Hearts Under Fire (18 page)

-- knowing it was reflex. And, while true, it wasn’t what Daniel wanted. Or what Clark wanted, for that matter.

Taking in the couch, Daniel, and their position in the room, Clark played all the possibilities through his mind in two heartbeats. He tried to talk, and the words died little deaths in the wake of having to say what he wanted. Clark felt dizzy with
déjà vu
. He wondered if Daniel understood how hard it was, really, to render Clark speechless under normal circumstances.

“Um,” Clark said intelligently. He shook his head to try to clear it, leaning closer on reflex.

Laughing, Daniel stroked his hands across the smooth skin of Clark’s chest. “I love it when you lean just that little bit toward me,” Daniel said. “How hard is that?”

Clark thought about it and shivered with Daniel’s low voice in his ears. “It’s not,” Clark said softly, a little surprised that it was true. He turned his head so their cheeks brushed. An image appeared in his mind, and he shuddered again, forcing himself to feel the heat of that conjured thought without recrimination. This was Daniel.

Guilt need not apply.

Daniel’s hand moved to the back of Clark’s neck, brushing against the short hairs there, fingers closing. “Good. I’m glad. Tell me, please?”

Clark opened his eyes and made a humming sound. His hands flexed and moved aimlessly over Daniel’s body, and he hated that the edge of the couch prevented him from getting closer while they sat in a tangle of limbs.

“Nothing, really,” Clark rumbled, half-convinced it was silly and half-sure Daniel would enjoy what Clark wanted to confess. He spoke in Daniel’s ear, tongue teasing out to taste. “Never been taken from behind. Just thinking about that.”

Daniel’s breath went short. “Whew, Clark. Never, hm? That’s a very enticing thought. It’s so interesting, as experienced as we both are, just what we haven’t done.”

Clark pulled away, letting Daniel’s hand catch and hold him. “Yes,” Clark said, feeling like he was balancing on a knife’s edge and not really sure why. “It... yes. Interesting.”

Images of men confessing things they wanted filled Clark’s mind, and he thought of fate, and irony, and female dogs. Clark let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I like the idea of your weight. On me. And maybe...” Clark’s heart tried to stop, but once it found its rhythm again, Clark continued, more-or-less steadily. “Take away the use of my hands. So that I...” Clark went quiet, unable to finish.

“So you can’t touch me? Or push me away? So, in front of you,” Daniel breathed. “You have rope or cuffs here?”

Clark felt the increasingly familiar sensation of not quite being connected to his own body. He nodded. “Crate under the bed. Both cuffs and rope in it.” Clark couldn’t tell if his voice sounded small or just breathless. Maybe both.

“And... slow.” Clark looked Daniel in the eye, feeling like it was a personal challenge to himself. Get through this and he could walk on glass next. “Fast and hard doesn’t get me. Slow and teasing will.”

“After two amazing orgasms last night, not having to deal with Adam teasing me, and since it’s not my first time with you... I think I can do slow,” Daniel said dryly. “Do you mind if I come with you to see what’s in the crate?”

Clark pressed his lips together and looked away from Daniel, mind in the eye of a hurricane. He felt warm and thought he might be blushing. His heart beat against his sternum.

Am I really doing this?

Clark’s shoulders tightened. “Sure,” he said, with an automatic smile as he got up and headed toward the bedroom. Clark counted his steps until he knelt next to the bed and reached for the crate underneath it. While this felt sudden, it was also moving slowly enough that he could think. That was both good and bad.

Good because he knew it was the safer route; this path led to more anticipation and chances to chat before things got underway.

Bad because it gave Clark entirely too much time to think about what he’d told Daniel --

Slow and teasing will get me there.

-- and to feel overwhelmed by the entire situation. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Daniel. The man wouldn’t hurt Clark. It was more that this felt entirely deliberate. There was no breathless confession or cover of darkness to mask what they were doing. Clark didn’t know whether to be proud of that or worried about himself. Wincing, Clark got out the crate and removed the lid.

Daniel settled close enough to lean against Clark and peered into the plastic container. “I asked you about what you want to get a feel for what you like and what you don’t. We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to.” Daniel grinned wryly. “We could wait until after lunch, or just talk.”

Clark uttered a surprised laugh. “Thanks for that,” he said honestly. “It’s just...” Clark swallowed audibly and spoke in a quiet voice near a whisper. “It’s just new. And I keep having to remind myself that this is... okay. Allowed?” He shook his head. “I feel like if I back down, I won’t go through with it, and...” Clark looked toward Daniel, but didn’t meet his eyes. “I want it.”

Worry made Clark frown. “But if you want to wait, we don’t have to. I didn’t mean to rush you.”

Daniel kissed Clark. “If you want it, I want you. Want you to know it’s not just allowed, but desired, treasured. That you doing this for me doesn’t just turn me on, it makes me amazed at how much you trust me.” Daniel took a deep breath. “I was worried about forcing your hand, so I thought I should say something. Now I’m glad I did.” He turned back to the crate, his hand caressing one of Clark’s, a quick touch. “All right. What have you got here?”

“The usual,” Clark said, voice low. His skin felt too tight, and he sighed at himself. “Cuffs, bars, you know the drill.” Clark rummaged around in the crate, and metal clanked as it was moved aside. “These aren’t bad,” Clark said, holding up a set of thigh and wrist cuffs that were tangled into a knot.

“Hm.” Daniel took the offered restraints. “I’m starting to think that I’d like your hands not just tied together, but tied to your legs, so that you really can’t use them. I want you to be able to spread your knees as much as you need to, so nothing that restricts your leg movement, but... What do you think?”

Clark looked at the handful of buckles and leather now in Daniel’s grasp and stamped on the fluttery sensation the words caused. He tilted his head, thinking that analytical would be a good approach here.

“Makes sense,” Clark said. “You could... hm...” He removed a stretchy cord with metal clasp hooks on either end. “Link the thigh cuffs with this for movement. Hook the cuffs on the wrists with the single link -- it’s got a ring -- and attach down.” He picked up another cord, contemplative. “It would allow for movement, but not much. Not enough to, say, bend arms, but plenty to rearrange position or spread knees.”

Daniel sighed happily, and the hand not occupied with the cuffs gently stroked Clark’s thigh. “Good. I like that setup. Is there anything else you want to show me?”

Clark told himself to calm the hell down, and he couldn’t help but consider all the times he’d been in Daniel’s position: kneeling with a nervous but eager partner and talking about what they were going to do.

Never been quite like this, though.

Looking at the open crate, Clark slowly shook his head, mouth pursed as he considered the mental image of himself on his stomach, tied and...

Shivering and unable to control it, Clark turned and caught sight of the free-standing oval mirror in the corner of the room. He saw his face and was equal parts amazed and shocked at his transparent expression and body language. He was so simple for Daniel to read as to be laughable. He gaped, unsure of himself.

Clark sighed when Daniel wrapped an arm around him. “I think we have what we need, then. Let’s get back to the couch?”

Nodding on autopilot, Clark said, “Sure,” and tore his eyes away from the mirror. He snapped the lid back on the crate and shoved it under the bed before standing up. Daniel led the way, and when they got to the sunlit room of the open loft, Daniel stopped by the sofa and waited.

Gaze everywhere and nowhere, Clark thought about Daniel and Brian, about trust and hope and how crazy it was that the things a person wanted were often so buried as to be painful when excavated from the ruins of self-denial. He remembered some of the times he’d bottomed, about the way he’d refuse to move if asked to face down. He knew it was silly, but Clark had never been comfortable with his back to anyone. It was something ingrained, something alive and deep.

Always keep your back to a wall and your eyes on the exit, son.

Clark ran his hand through his hair and put his father’s voice away. This wasn’t dangerous. This wasn’t stupid or silly. This was just Daniel. And Clark. And the couch.

Slowly, Clark walked over to Daniel, stopping within arm’s reach. He looked at the dark eyes in silent question.

How do we do this?

Daniel touched Clark’s jaw before leaning forward for a slow kiss. Then he asked rather than told. “All right... how about we get the line on you, then the cuffs? Then you’ll get on the couch, get situated the way you want, and we’ll hook it all together?”

Clark stared at Daniel, grateful for the kiss and the question. Daniel’s mouth and touch were quickly becoming the fastest way to tranquility. “Sounds okay,” Clark said, and he reached down to take off his t-shirt, trying to ignore the way that his skin jumped.

Once the shirt was off, Daniel stepped forward, quickly untying the top of the sweatpants. He ran his hands beneath underwear and over Clark’s ass as he pushed the cloth back. Clark’s lips parted as Daniel knelt, sliding fingertips down one of Clark’s legs to free that foot from the pant leg.

Clark braced a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. With Daniel kneeling and touching him, Clark went from half-aroused to fully hard. The room was entirely too warm and got warmer when Daniel’s hands roamed along Clark’s legs. Gentle lips brushed along Clark’s scars and across to his length, ending with a lick of the tip. Clark gasped and clenched Daniel’s shoulder as the professor picked up the thigh cuffs, wrapping one around Clark’s leg and fastening it.

Daniel tugged on the cuff. “Does that feel all right?”

Clark yanked himself out of a fog of lust. “Er... yeah...” Clark said gruffly. He flexed the large muscle in his leg and nodded. “Good.”

Daniel picked up the other cuff, put it on Clark, and linked the cuffs with a cord. The binding didn’t affect Clark much, but the cord between the cuffs did. It didn’t restrict him like this, but hearing the soft click of the clasp made something jump low in Clark’s gut.

“Hold out your hands?” Daniel grabbed the wrist cuffs, licking up Clark’s hard on and kissing the tip before standing. The slick warmth of Daniel’s mouth didn’t distract Clark quite as much the second time, and his heart began to pound. Reminding himself that he had asked for this, he held out his hands in loose fists, wrists up. He didn’t know whether to go with the flow or kick himself for being so easily affected.

Daniel buckled on the cuffs, giving them a good, hard pull. He linked them together with the panic release and tugged to test the clasp. It came apart easily. Daniel put the bolt back together and asked, “Please, pull that for me.”

With a smirk, Clark braced and yanked viciously on the cuffs and link. The muscles in his arms burned with the sudden, demanding motion, and he was pleased when everything held.

Mostly.

Grinning, Daniel nodded “Good. Onto the couch, then, facing whichever way is more comfortable.”

Clark turned his head. Heat and something like panic made him want to sway on his feet. He didn’t falter, but he didn’t move toward the couch, either.

“Daniel,” Clark said quietly, eyes on the furniture. “Kiss me first... please?”

Daniel’s breath caught, and Daniel stroked Clark’s side, throat, and jaw before kissing him. Lips and tongue reassured and aroused, Clark kissed greedily, trying not to attack the other man’s mouth. The contact and careful touches made it easier to cope with the bindings, with being naked and vulnerable and needy.

But feeling Daniel’s mouth slide over his lips also made it harder for Clark to rise above the undertow that pulled him down; it wasn’t a place where Clark forgot his sense of self, but the feeling reminded Clark of water and breathing. The kiss made it easier to feel the restriction around his wrists and upper thighs, but more difficult to ignore his hard on and how much he wanted to be face down on the couch, unable to fight it, unable to control...

Clark moaned and broke the kiss to pant.

Daniel murmured, “Please get on the couch?”

Clark didn’t answer, merely turned and contemplated. After a second, he sat normally. In the back of his mind, he thought hooking his wrists to the strap between his knees would be easier like this. But mostly all he could think about was not being able to move much after being secured, and his cock pulsed when he thought about having to swing his legs up and lie down.

Daniel knelt and hooked the links to the strap between Clark’s knees. Clark got a flash of oceanic eyes before harsh lips pressed against his own, forcing thought to flee in the wake of want. Teeth against his lips and tongue pushing into his mouth, Daniel’s warm palms pressed against his chest to pinch his nipples. With a moan ending in a soft cry that Daniel swallowed, Clark automatically tried to raise his hands. He couldn’t do much more than run fingertips over Daniel’s bare stomach. Clark felt an ache in his gut that made him shake and heard a rushing sound in his ears that reminded him of the ocean.

Daniel shuddered and broke the kiss with a shaky, “God, Clark...” Daniel panted. “Right... slow. Teasing... we can do this... All right, let’s get you up.”

“Yeah,” Clark rasped. Clark fell to his left and lifted his legs at the same time. He realized that the binding managed to put his erection between his wrists. Pulling up on the cord between his legs would dig the clasp into his balls, and the angle made it so that his wrists could actually tighten, but it’d be a tease to his cock and little else.