In Your Eyes (I Am Complete)
Pairing: Miles Miller x Ben Mears
Summary: Only a year into their relationship, Miles Miller and Ben Mears have been slowly going from strength to strength after the events of Salem's Lot. That doesn't mean each step forward is ever easy. Still haunted the phantom hold of the El Royale on his life, Miles is plagued by the desire to be able to give his whole self to his partner. To do that, he needs to exercise some demons first. He knows the how, is disgusted by the why. But after years of having his trust broken, can he find it in himself to trust Ben once again, and try bondage?
Warnings: 18+ only please. First time trying BDSM. Allusions to less than ideal times, but not between the pair. References to Miles's time being held hostage by the cult, abuse of power, and PTSD. Descriptions of prostate stimulation, anal sex, hand jobs, bondage, voyeurism, dirty talk, verbal domming, sir/daddy kink, spit kink, scent kink, m/m breastfeeding/oral fixation and subspace. There was a lot of words to fill.
A/N: Set post Try As I May, but can be read standalone. Only mild spoilers to the fic, and is mostly focused on the events of the El Royale. Also I've added dividers for breaks, as lets be honest, its a lot to read all at once. And thanks as ever to @lalalunascope for her proof reading and ideas! and for not cutting the nips <3
Word Count: 22k. lol. Available on AO3
Ā Ā Miles and Ben hadnāt been in the neighbourhood for even a year, and yet their presence had been felt, not just in their own home, but in a multitude of others. Ben had half-joked that Miles couldnāt go anywhere without leaving a piece of his heart there to make even the most distant house feel like home to Ben. It was in the way their next-door neighbour, Steven, always had a can of Coke next to Benās cheap Pabst, chilled and ready to go for when they came over to watch the Mets game. It was in how Milesās closest friend and colleague at school, Amelia, had gratefully inherited a copy of Milesās Nanaās recipe cards to make even her fussy, elitist, in-laws impressed. And it was how Ben could barely sit on a sofa now without it being draped in something Miles had made. But it was all thanks to Mark that Gladys and Theresaās home was awash with homemade knitted blankets, crocheted toys for the grandkids, and a signed copy of āConwayās Daughterā made out to Benās biggest fan, Theresa. It was scuffed at the corners from how many times Gladys had saved it from the trash before the garbage men had seen it off to what her wife had called its ārightful resting place amongst its own kindā. They always insisted they never needed anything for looking after Mark, that he was a good kid, welcome any time, for any reason. However, Miles especially had always been grateful for the easy, accepting way theyād never press for the why behind the favour, even when he knew they could see it clearly written across his open face. Whether it was the dark bags under his even darker baby blue eyes, the tremble of his lower lip as he worried about Ben, and, ever increasingly, the ruddy blush that soaked his skin when heād dance around the simplest reason of them all.
That Miles Miller really wanted an evening alone with his boyfriend.Ā
Ā It was the week after they granted his request to let Mark sleep over that Gladys and Theresa welcomed a beautiful, if slightly amateurish and damaged, vase into their home as a thanks for their kindness. Years later, Miles found himself struck dumb as he saw it shine once again after their annual spring clean. Theresa thought she saw him blushing. Gladys could have sworn she saw him blink away the tears.
The evening of Mark's sleepover had been something Miles and Ben had talked about for weeks, although it had been on their minds since almost the beginning. The shameful desire reared its ugly head whenever Miles was held in a loving, almost too-tight bear hug, or he twisted the bedsheets tight around his wrists as they made love. Seeking those moments out wherever he could, never letting the implications linger long enough to make room in his mind, Miles was only ever left with the sinking feeling that whatever it was that he was doing, it was disgusting. The former concierge couldnāt admit to himself that what he secretly desired was the same thing he saw performed by the worst of the El Royaleās clientele. The very thing that had been done to him by the most uncaring of guests, and worst of all, the cult that had almost killed him.
He wanted to be tied down. No matter how hard Miles tried to ignore it, he longed for nothing more than to give up control of his body to the man he had sworn it to, but his body still didnāt feel like his to give. Not when it still haunted the corridors of the El Royale, trapped in the chair he swore heād die in. Ben had helped to save his soul from Jerusalemās Lot, but the fiery, blistering sensation of the rope against his wrists still burned with an inferno hotter than the sun. The feeling kept him bound to that place even years later, struggling to free himself against the invisible tether that sometimes felt more real than his belovedās touch. But therein lay his problem; he couldnāt move on, not without giving in to the monstrous sinner that died that day instead of the true him.
Ā He wasnāt that dammed person anymore; he was a new Miles. One that would have to find another way to exorcise that side of himself. Alone.
Ā However, despite Milesās best attempts to conceal that side of himself, Ben had spotted it almost every time, lurking just below the surface, waiting to be set free. He knew exactly what it was that Miles was craving. Hell, how could he not? After all, once upon a time, that desire had haunted him, too. But where Miles had found only the calloused hands of another paying stranger, Ben had found Miranda. She had looked after him during their first time venturing into the world of BDSM and encouraged all his subsequent ideas and fantasies. Afterwards, the skin he spent his life chafing against sat more easily over his frame than it had ever done before. There was nothing Ben wanted to do more for his love than to pass on that precious gift to him.
Ā That is, if he could find the bravery to ask Miles if he wanted to try. Where Miranda hadnāt hesitated, Ben couldnāt bring himself to ask that one simple question. It encircled Ben like a vulture, just waiting to feed on the carcass of the hard-won trust he thought he could so easily annihilate. What if?
What if Miles really didnāt want to go far enough to try bondage? What if Ben was selfishly seeing what he wanted to? And if Ben was wrong, what if Miles thought it was disgusting? That Ben was disgusting? Or worse, what if he could inadvertently trigger yet another panic attack in Miles? Miles certainly seemed to be searching for those sensations of being restrained, and Miles had at least told Ben he loved their first, tentative, planned forays into giving up control. But that wasn't the same as ropes and toys, especially to his timid Catholic mouse, whose creative and (hopefully) devious mind was only just starting to be unleashed. While their progress had been nothing short of miraculous to him, he couldnāt bear to see it spooked back into hiding, especially when Milesās recovery and comfort were worth more to him than anything. There were still moments when Ben saw Miles hesitate; a revelation, a piece of his past, something he wanted to tell Ben but couldn't yet say. However, the fear of overstepping held him back from reaching out. He had lost so many people in his life already. There was no way on this godforsaken planet he would do anything to jeopardize his new life with Miles.
So instead of asking, Ben pushed the suggestion deep down, until it was just another addition in a long line of unspoken questions.
Ā In the end, they had taken that plunge together.Ā
Benās large hands held Milesās firm above his head. Ben hadnāt even realized he had done it. Fingers woven together into a loverās tie, the writer had been grasping for anything that could tether them together as he poured all the stress of the long week into his deep, open-mouthed kisses. When their conjoined hands hit the soft mattress with an even softer āthumpā, they both felt the way Miles suddenly went still beneath him. āMiles, sweetheart, you okay?ā
Ā There was a quick clench of strong muscle under Benās grip. Not trying to get away, just a gentle, barely there test. Ben shivered as the needy whine warmed his neck before his brain could play catch-up and decipher it. āPlease. Donāt stop.āĀ
If it hadnāt been for the fact that Mark lay asleep down the corridor, Ben could have happily complied and stayed there for hours, soaking up the way Miles full-bodied groaned when he plunged his way into his tight hole, knees coming up to hold him, as if Ben could ever want to be anywhere else. Lying so close, his stomach squished Milesā suddenly engorged cock between them, each thrust rolled the swell of his belly over that silky, hardened length with delicious friction. It had taken record time to get Milesā eyes to glaze over, as hazy-looking as his mind felt. All the while, each twist of his wrists against Benās hold sank him deeper and deeper into that void that turned all thoughts inside out until he was nothing more than a vessel for his boyfriend to break in for his own pleasure.
āBān. Sāgood. More- need- ah! M-more.ā
Oh, how it did wonders for Benās heart to hear him cry for more. He knew what was coming. Once, Miles would try to pull away as he got close to this point. He used to protest that it was too much. Now it wasnāt enough. Benās whole being braced itself, bringing Milesās hands closer to the halo of fiery curls that fanned out across the bed, fingers still clutched together, so Ben could push himself up just enough for his eyes to feast on the display tabled before him.
āCome on. Let go for me, baby. Just let go.ā
He went still, hovering over Miles like an eagle watching its tiring prey, barely blinking lest he miss his favourite moment in the world. He waited a beat, just long enough for his boyfriend to stir, blinking his confusion, before he plunged back into him with a wet, filthy squelch. It was a teasing swipe of air against his ribs that literally hit him first, followed by the sound of a surprised, broken yelp. Miles was close, but not close enough. So Ben pulled back and thrusted again, slapping his hips against the cushion of Milesās plush thighs. The veteranās body bowed to welcome it, but he couldnāt hold himself up with his hands entrapped. Before he could try again, Ben pounded into him furiously, long and hard, shoving him back into his rightful place, buried into the mattress below. It was when Miles could only grind his head back and forth under the onslaught that Ben fully let go, ramming the tip of his cock right on the smooth button buried deep within his core. He beat it into submission with each thunderous clap of their bodies. With nowhere to go, Miles tried to hold on; instead, he could only squirm like a trapped bug under Benās grip. The reaction was instantaneous. Miles kicked a leg against the air like a dog scratching its ear. The muscles of his left leg quaked in the aftershocks as though he could shoot the excess pleasure from his limb to stop it from leaking out of his open, kiss-swollen lips as easily as the drool pooling at his chin. He lost control of his lower half as the toes of his other leg curled, unable to stop it from seizing as the other drummed against Benās side like a wind-up toy pushed past its limits and sprung. Ben never lasted more than a few seconds after that.
āFuckā, Ben groaned, swallowing Milesās hands with his own and bringing them up one at a time to place a tender kiss on each knuckle. āIncredible. Absolutely incredible, Thumper.ā
Milesās body reacted without conscious thought, chest rising in the motion of giggles as he intimated āgimmieā hands, beckoning Ben back onto him. Ben knew Miles always got extra clingy after one of their more intense sessions. He noted, with just a slightly smug curl of his lips, that Milesās tummy was a pearlescent, sticky mess. It didnāt appear Miles could feel it yet, but he knew how much he hated it if left unattended, and coupled with the way his body had seized, he was likely going to be sore in the morning. Without breaking contact, Ben scooped him up, bringing Milesās arms around his neck and carrying him the short distance into the en-suite bathroom, thanking the good architects of Ashford, Minnesota, for their contribution to keeping their young ward (relatively) unscarred.
By the time Miles started to stir again, Ben had managed to run a hot bath, pouring in a few shakes of scented oils for good measure. Cradled in Ben's arms, Miles lay back against his boyfriend's chest, head burrowed within the nest of his neck as Ben massaged the soap into his biceps. Ben could see the faint pinkish marks where heād shoved Miles's hands firmly to the bed.
The sight hit him as though it had physical weight.
Oh, was that why Miles had gotten so worked up so quickly?Ā
It couldn't be⦠could it? Before he could get the cogs working in his tired mind, he felt warm air groaned into his throat that sounded suspiciously like a swear word. Boy, Ben couldnāt wait to lord it over him in the morning. He placed a barely-there kiss to the crown of curls at his chin. āWelcome back, sweetheart.ā Miles blinked against the dim light as he reluctantly extracted himself from the protective haven of the neck. He wriggled his digits, restoring feeling to his extremities to prove to himself that his body still listened to him. āDid⦠Did I do that thing again?ā Ben squeezed him tighter. āThat you did, Thumperā, he tittered affectionately. Even just the memory infected his voice with an awe normally reserved for the saints as he whispered into Miles's ear. āGod, you looked so beautiful, too. I needed that today, so thank you⦠For trusting me.ā And Ben meant it; he never took for granted what it meant for Miles to let him take charge, and to trust that heād look after him when he did. Especially when the last person he trusted had done everything to betray it.
Ā āThink that should be my line.ā Ben feigned consideration, tilting Milesā chin up to meet him. Taking in the still glassy tint to his slate blue eyes, he brushed his thumb over the lazy crease of his dewy lips, coaxing it into a satisfied smile. āDonāt seem like youāre capable of many lines right now.ā āPride is a sin, Benjamin.ā āSo were those skin coloured shorts you wore today. Shaking that fine ass of yours like you really did have a bunny tail.ā Ben suddenly stopped himself with a gulp⦠Now wasnāt the time to be picturing that. Instead, he all but growled into the remains of Milesās cheek scars. āA rabbit and a minx. Think that makes us even.ā
The only retort Miles could muster came in the form of a languid yawn. Stretching out like a cat in the sun, even as the moonlight reflected in the ripples of water, Milesās heavy head nodded along Benās clavicle as he sank slightly lower into the soothing abyss. He trusted in the sturdiness of his loveās arms to keep him afloat as he drifted along with it, unable to think of a witty rejoinder when every sense and every shattered, jagged piece of him was being held together, secure and moored to the safe harbour of what was his Ben. Whereas evenings like this often gave Miles the much-needed emotional release he was still learning to accept that he adored, this night felt different; he just couldnāt say why, not when his thoughts were as elusive as the water surrounding him.Ā
Skimming along the edges, he could only catch fragments before they disappeared. There was something his mind was trying to tell him. It was somewhere in the faraway sound of Ben murmuring āoh botherā in his best Pooh Bear impression, the first time Miles had stripped in front of him and gotten his red shirt stuck over his head. But the memory dissolved as quickly as it came. In its stead was the quiet afternoon months ago, interrupted by a spluttered apology when Ben felt the telltale stirring of Milesās cock pressed into his lower spine as they lay snuggled on the sofa watching monster movies. Miles had been so sure Ben would pull away, only to find himself on his back moments later as Ben enthusiastically played the damsel in distress with aplomb.Ā
Ā However, the memory that filled his mindās eye the longest was their first weekend away together, when Ben took his time learning his new partner as though he contained more hidden treasures than the Smithsonian. Snapshots flicked in and out of view, the way Ben smoothed over any mistake by turning it back on himself, the way he made Milesās body feel sanctified with just a look of lust and a schoolboy glimmer of mischief, and how, on the final evening, he had first called him āThumperā after milking the final drops of bone-trembling pleasure from his boyfriendās bullied prostate. Even Ben had expected a tut or a smack for that one; instead, he found himself bouncing lightly up and down as his partner crushed him to his chest and laughed more freely than he had ever done in his adult life.
Ā Before Miles could follow the thread to the end, Benās voice reverberated with a low hum. Even half asleep, Miles could hear the anxiety that kept his lips pursed together. whenever he was fishing for something. āDid you enjoy it? Anything that was too much? I didnāt make you uncomfortable at allā¦?ā
Ā ā-No! Sāwas greatā, Miles slurred. āYou always make me feel good, Benā¦ā Miles mouthed at the bicep next to his face in an approximation of a kiss. He could feel how tense he was under him, hugging him even tighter lest he disappear for good. Pushing himself up Benās chest, nearly headbutting him in the chin, Miles tried to wake himself up to discern the source of Benās hesitation. But then he felt it. Two hands cradled around his, tying them together, lightly tracing the lines of his veins like he was trying to smooth out a bruise that wasnāt there. Ben rested his chin on Milesās shoulder, looking at them with an intensity that made his jaw clench. He didnāt know it, but he held Miles like the chair and ropes at the final stand-off at the hotelās casino.Ā
Bracing himself for the old burning sensation to start, instead Miles felt only a calmness breeze over his skin, followed by the surprisingly soothing memory of how Ben had held him down. How could that be? He was too exhausted to think straight. All he knew was that he was here, in his house, with his Ben, and with his son sleeping peacefully down the hall. Every one of them, safe. His mind went through the breathing exercises his new therapist had taught him. Iām not at the El Royale, Iām in Minnesota, Iām home. And for once, it worked. He couldnāt believe it-
It was then that the realization finally hit him of what his mind had been trying to make him understand. Within those moments, just like that very evening, Ben had taken him apart, piece by piece, orgasm by orgasm, with a sixth sense for when to put Miles back together again, greater than before. All with just his easy charm and a knowing grin. Never patronizing or cruel, just with a gentle, loving humour that kick-started those first steps towards Milesās accepting the parts of his sexuality he hated most. Maybe bondage could be the same. Just another one of Benās tiny miracles on his life?
Giving into the body behind him, melding into him like they were one being, Miles suddenly felt all his shattered parts start to slip into place for the first time in his life. However, emboldened by the care Ben showed his wrists, Miles Miller wanted to go one better. He wanted to be more than the sum of all the broken pieces of himself, and to do that, he needed to face all of them. Daring to put all his love and confidence in the man who held him in his totality, Milesās body finally started to feel like his own again. Now all he had to do was hand over control to the only man he trusted it with.Ā Ā
Ā Unable to bear the nerves radiating off his devoted writer any longer, Miles raised Benās knuckles to his lips, kissing them as Ben had done to him not half an hour earlier. Benās own hands were weightless, moving with rather than against him. The air hitched against Milesās ear, both in surprise and something approaching wonder. āIt was nice⦠When you, um, did thatā said Miles, bunting his head against Benās still flexing sideburns. Ben was silent, but Miles didnāt push. He swore he could hear his boyfriendās thoughts screaming whatever warning was still bothering him, but eventually the author leaned into his touch with a slow exhale. He squeezed Miles tighter and braved it. āIs that something you want to try again? Me⦠holding you down?ā āYesā, came the harried response. It was so quick Ben barely heard it over his own voice. Embarrassed, Miles suddenly sounded much more alert as he amended, āSo long as you donāt mind! Itās okay if you donāt-ā
Ā He didn't even finish before Ben assured, with barely contained glee, that he didnāt mind in the slightest. Looking at the way his shimmering eyes gleamed, Ben knew his love felt just as relieved as he did. He kissed the button of Milesās nose, and the deal was sealed.
Ben just hoped he had learned enough from his too-short time with Miranda that he could do Miles justice.
The morning sun cut its way through the cracks in the curtains, a thousand tiny daggers all pointed right at the writerās still sleep-sodden eyes. The beginning of summer energized the room while Ben remained motionless under its stubborn insistence that it was time to wake up and face the day. In a feeble āfuck youā to the universe, Ben turned his face into the pillow, but the puddle of chilled drool drove him back, the jerk of his head triggering a gentle laugh in front of him that felt warmer than the blazing sun. The sound did more to trick him back into the land of the living than the light ever could. How fucking dare they. āYouāre breathing too loudly. Mātrying to sleepā, Ben groaned.
Ā The sound rudely kept going, but the fingers that threaded his hair and massaged his scalp were an acceptable apology.
Ā The alarm clock beeped once before the kind, saintly, definitely heaven-bound man next to him switched it off before it could disturb him more. It was then, when the hand returned and continued along the line of his neck and over the rise of his bare shoulder, that Ben realized he hadnāt even gotten under the covers last night. He hurriedly replayed the evening in his head, praying to the god Miles interceded with on his behalf that he hadnāt gotten drunk last night and made an ass out of himself.Ā
Ā The memories were fuzzy, like a worn-out VHS tape, but with each recollection, it slowly cleared - Benās heated meeting with his editor. The even more heated argument with his car that wouldnāt start. A withering look from his son as he couldnāt help even a twelve-year-old with his math homework. But then, none of that had mattered after Mark had asked for a bedtime story for the first time. It all flowed quickly after that: the impromptu slow dancing in the kitchen with his boyfriend, who told him how good a dad he was, the ill-advised opening of the expensive scotch that Miles sucked from his lips, and not to mention the mind-melting orgasm that dragged the most embarrassing sounds from deep within his gut. Then came the memory of the bath. It was like heād applied jumper cables to his heart, shocking himself to life. His arm suddenly stretched out before him, slapping against a thigh just inches away from his face. Surprised, Benās hand didnāt retreat as he realized Miles must have been sitting against the headboard. That was normally the position reserved for big, important conversations. The kind Ben Mears had spent over thirty years expertly avoiding, but grew to gratefully, if nervously, anticipate now that Miles had finally started to open up.
The revelations of Milesās past had been slowly drip-fed over the last few months. While Ben knew the broad, horrifying strokes of what had happened, Milesās most trusted confidante hadnāt been his partner, or even his therapist, but their black and white cat, Dot. Ben had overheard him on several occasions, tearily whispering his secrets into the softness of her fur as she lay curled up, snug on his lap. Even with their beloved pet, he often waited for her to fall asleep first.Ā
Ben had always fought the urge to lean in and eavesdrop. As hard as it was, he quickly realized those one-sided conversations were just a necessary rehearsal, preparing Miles to work up the courage to tell Ben himself in the form of a shakily written letter, left on the bedside table when he was sure he wouldnāt be there to see Ben read it.
It was only in the last couple of months that Miles had finally started to feel secure enough to tell Ben directly, either during their joint therapy sessions or more often than not, here in the very bed they shared. Ben didnāt know what it meant. That Miles felt safest of all in a place that often symbolized some of his most shameful memories. But he was going to do everything he could to keep it that way. āMy eyes are up hereā, he huffed into the covers, lids still held shut as he gave his butt a little playful wiggle. Miles sounded as distant as Ben anticipated, but he reassuringly felt him move his leg closer to his touch as he breathed out a quiet laugh. āHowād you guess?ā āHow could you resist?ā
Ā Miles snorted. Against his will, Ben finally opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to dispel the fog. He thought he would have gotten used to it by now, but if ever he would, today wasnāt the day. God, he is so fucking beautiful.Ā
Miles was still his quiet, woodland Fae all these months later. Dust and gossamer danced around him, catching the rays and turning into a blizzard of rainbow specks that all moved to encircle and caress the creature who housed his heart. At the beginning of their relationship, Miles had always slept clothed, no matter the weather; now he wore his nudity with a casualness that Ben thought was the sexiest thing in the world, scars and all. All he needed to do was ease the worry that lined his face to complete the picture.Ā
āPenny for your thoughts?ā Ben asked.
Ā Miles took a deep breath, steadying himself before softly nudging Ben to sit up. He took the hint, still completely naked, giving Miles the space to think but allowing himself to keep a watchful eye. When he was settled, Miles brought his knees up, covered by the duvet that cushioned his folded arms as he rested them on top. He looked defensive, almost afraid, while he did all he could to stay present. āAbout last night⦠I need to tell you something.ā Benās stomach dropped. Shit. Had Miles changed his mind? Had he woken up and realized Ben had, in fact, pushed him too far? Ben moved to apologize, but Miles shot him a look as he leaned forward. ā-And I need you to listen.āĀ
His boyfriend stopped dead in his tracks. Miles regretted the harsh words before they even left his mouth, but he couldnāt stop the adrenaline that only ever needed the smallest excuse to set him on edge. āS-Sorry- that was rude- I didnāt mean-ā
āMilesā, Ben interrupted, quiet but firm. āYouāre fine. Fire away.ā
Relaxing slightly, Milesās gaze lingered a moment to check he wasnāt lying, before he turned to stare out the window. He had gotten better at this, but it was never easy. Legs hugged tighter against his chest, Ben could see him attempt to slow down his breathing as he watched the birds prepare their new, spring homes in the garden. For a moment, their song was the only noise in the room as Ben held his breath, listening intently in case he missed any sign that Miles needed him. Finally, the man spoke. He sounded robotic, cold, as he read from the script he had prepared all morning. He always did when he spoke about his past again.
Ā āItās about what happened at the El Royale. On that last day, when the cult came⦠Once I came round after this happenedā. He motioned to the scars of his face, āThey⦠They had me tied to a chair. One of them said they were going to k-kill me and-⦠All I can remember is how much it cut into my skin when I tried to get away. I kept struggling, and nothing happened, an- and-ā. His mouth moved frantically, feebly. The āI thought I was going to die thereā, lodged painfully in his throat. Miles tried to continue and push on, but his voice came out as only a shuddering sigh. When he went to try again, he was struck strangely dumb. A single goldfinch landed softly on their windowsill. He watched it for a while as it twisted its head, just as interested in Miles as he was in it. He never saw birds that beautiful in the desert; he had only ever dreamt of being as free as they were. Maybe even as free as he was starting to feel with his new, impossible family. When it eventually flew off, Miles looked down at his calloused hands. They tingled, but they werenāt trembling anymore. āT-There ain't any marks leftā, he said, sounding more present. āBut I can still feel the rope burning sometimes when itās real hot or if it's been a bad day⦠Then last night, even though I couldnāt move⦠They felt fine. I felt fine.ā
He turned back to Ben, searching for some reassurance that Ben understood, that he could make sense of what it all meant. That he wasnāt irrevocably broken for wanting this. However, when he saw Benās wet, wide eyes, full of love and concern, staring back at him, he shattered. Milesās chin scrunched up, sucking in his lower lip before it let out a sob. He tried to straighten it back out before he worried Ben even more, but it was too late; his whole jaw quivered like a leaf, dragging his shoulders with it. Miles tried to get a hold of himself, but it was no use, not once the dam had broken.Ā
Yet, he refused to look away again - They had backed out of this conversation too many times before to give up now. So, for once, he allowed the tears to fall unimpeded.
The sight broke Benās heart, but at the same time, he felt so goddamm proud. As much as Ben wanted to kiss it all away, he knew they had to face it, too. So instead of fussing over him as he used to do, Ben moved a couple of inches closer, the side of their legs not quite meeting through the barrier of the duvet, remaining present but not intruding while Miles rode out the wave of emotions until it finally ebbed. It was just a quick double tap of the foot, their sign that Miles was ready to be touched, that allowed Ben to finally close the gap. With a deft touch, Ben lightly coaxed Milesās legs forward so he could place the side of his forehead on top of his bent knees. Instantly, Miles made room, carding his fingers through his sleep-tussled hair, straightening it out around the curve of his writerās ear, causing Benās lashes to flutter when blunt nails scratched along his scalp.Ā
Ā Miles giggled softly when Ben pressed a kiss to his palm. He looked so⦠goofy, sat next to him. Like a lazy hound at his feet, silently waiting for his masterās order- Oh. Right.
Miles looked abashed, wiping the tears from his face. āOh, sorryā¦! Um, Y-you can talk now.ā
A small, fond smile tugged at Benās lips. āThank you for telling me, sweetheart. Just to check, do you still want to try using restraints? Thereās no shame if you change your mind. We can drop it or talk about it another time.āĀ Ā Ā
To Benās relief, Miles stopped to really consider it. Head tilted like an owl, he muttered, āNo⦠I want to. Really, I do. Iām just worried Iām going to freak out on you and make it miserable for both of us.ā āOkay. Thatās something we can work on then.ā Benās voice dulled an octave, āCan I ask, where was it they tied you?ā āUm, elbows to my sides and wrists together on my lapā, responded Miles. He felt strangely lighter putting it into words already. Ben raised himself up slightly, crossing his arms over Milesās knees with his chin resting on top like a curious schoolboy. The significance of what they were about to undertake should have scared him, but knowing why Miles had been so afraid gave him a plan of action, something, thank God, he could do. āAlright, then weāll work around it - try something new, make sure it's different. Iāll have a chat with Gladys and see if she can look after Mark for an evening. Then we can take it as slow as we need.ā āAnd if I still mess it up?ā Miles blushed. āThen we mess it up, we move on, or we keep trying until we get it right. Same as we do everything elseā, said Ben confidently. āAnd if it all goes to hell? Weāll order in, weāll watch the Mets game, and then I'll tell you how much I love you while you tell me off for speaking with my mouth full.ā
Ā Ben expected a laugh, but Miles looked at him like heād been visited by an angel who had just graced him with a divine revelation. He sounded like he was talking to himself as he slowly whispered, āYou really donāt mind, do you?ā
Ā āBe a hypocrite if I said I did.āĀ āYouā¦ā Milesās forehead crinkled as he struggled to process his words and the sly grin plastered all over Benās face. It took just a moment, and then his eyebrows shot up, ā... Y-Youāve done this before?ā Ben nodded. His dimples deepened as he teased, āUh-huh. Either way, I get to tie up my incredible, handsome boyfriend, or I get to eat Pizza and watch the Mets with my incredible, handsome boyfriend. Either way? Iām the luckiest man alive.ā
It was then that Ben got the smile he had wanted to see since he had woken up. Miles beamed brighter than the mid-morning sun, disbelief still playing along the trail of his laugh lines, perfecting them against the pink, mottled canvas of his blushing cheeks. āRememberā, Ben continued. āWe have time now. Nothing needs to be perfect on the first go unless youāre my good-for-nothing editor.ā
Miles nodded softly. It took only a quick tug, but he lowered his legs and brought Ben to straddle his lap over the duvet. For just a second, he looked, really looked at his partner above him. Ben wasnāt Richard Straker. He wasnāt going to take his confession and use it to hurt him. He could do this. They could do this. Taking a scruff of long hair within his hands, he pulled Ben onto his lips, hoping, praying, it contained everything he wanted to say. It didnāt take long before Ben cupped Milesās face and deepened it, giving his everything back into that open, pliant mouth. He sang his response down to the very core of his love. Each hum and moan filled his lungs until they overflowed, warming the space between cells until Miles felt himself unfurling under Benās kiss like a flower finally blooming in the morning glow. With just a drift of his lips, Ben traced a line of kisses along the face he knew better than his own. Miles tried to follow, as though their lips were magnetized to each other, but Ben remained undeterred, following his predetermined path, luxuriating in the stretch of the skin under his touch and drying the trails of his tears with his thumbs. When he got to his destination, he bowed Milesās head to knight him with a chaste kiss to the centre of his brow. Inching his way closer, Ben nuzzled his forehead into the spot, swaying in Milesās arms as they came up to envelope him in a lazy, loose hug. He waited for Miles to make the first move, if he wanted to continue or call it a morning. Instead, Miles let the moment stretch on, allowing it to breathe as he himself found his again. He wanted to live in it for as long as he could with Ben draped over him, shielding him from the very passage of time as he sat as comfortably in his lap as he did in the silence Miles needed.Ā
It was only when they were interrupted by the sound of padded, soft feet, followed by four even lighter ones, walking past their door that they finally broke apart.
Miles opened his mouth and closed it again, thinking better of it. He looked half in a daze, as though the gentle rhythm of their rocking had hypnotized him, until the sound of their sonās knocking snapped him out of it with a bang. āGuys! Dotās getting hungry, dāyou need me to feed her?ā āGive us a minute! Itās a Saturday, jeezā, shouted Ben. They could practically hear Markās eyes roll in his skull as he sighed, āItās a Friday, and I have school in thirty minutes.ā
Ā Ben looked to Miles to check he was correct. ā....Shit. Okay, get your stuff. Be there in a moment.ā
Ā But Ben didnāt move away, not when Miles kept him locked in place. The cute pout to his lips was irresistible, not to mention a low blow. āYou said we have time now. Donāt suppose thereās still time for pancakes?ā Ā āWith you? Always.ā Ben brushed Milesās curl from his eyes, āI luff you, Miles Miller. I need you to know, nothing is going to change that.ā It seemed to take a few seconds for the words to soak in, but Ben could feel the exact moment they took root. The repetition, the constant assurances, the unfailing attempts to always be there, even if he sometimes stumbled. It was finally chipping its way through the last of Milesās defences, until it finally shattered, and with it, Miles threw himself into Benās arms to catch him. It came out of nowhere, the words punching their way out of Milesās subconscious, the end of his scripted confession heād woken up early to compose. He couldnāt remember how he was supposed to get to the closer, but it still felt true, even as it came out as a jumbled, inarticulate mess. āI luff you too... It scares me, sometimes. What would have happened if I never met you. I-I never dreamt⦠I mean, I thought, in a movie or for someone else⦠But I justā¦ā. He sighed, unable to put into words everything his very soul was filled with. But as he looked up at Ben, it came pouring out like a drunken, sober confession. āThere was never anyone like you, not even in my wildest dreams.ā Ben crushed him into his chest, kissing anywhere and everywhere he could reach. He didnāt try to hide the quiver in his voice. āIām so glad you survived, Miles. Now all we have to do is work on living. Every day. Starting with pancakes.āĀ Ā
As the first batch of pancake mix burnt, Ben called the school and informed them that Mark was sick and wasn't going to be in today. Their son didnāt question it when he saw the tiredness etched across his Dadsā faces, and Miles, despite his half-hearted lecture to the both of them on the importance of school, couldn't help but feel relieved when Mark promised there weren't any important deadlines that day.Ā
Just the knowledge that they were all safe at home was an indulgence he would allow himself this once. After nights like that, his anxiety would always play havoc with his mind as the old words of Straker's came bubbling back to the surface, twisting his thoughts around until he believed the very worst of them. Sometimes he was still the hopeless addict, the pervert criminal, the cold-blooded killer. Today, he was simply the burden.Ā
It had been one of Miles's biggest challenges, to accept that seeking help didn't make him a liability, certainly never to them. He knew it intellectually, but that didn't mean he believed it. However, as Mark plastered himself to Miles's side at the table, and his boyfriend remeasured the flour according to Ms. Winters's recipe as though his life depended on it⦠The voice was quieter than normal. Quieter, but still there, rumbling under the blanket of gentle, lazy morning conversation that energized the kitchen. Guilt still burned his ears as Miles saw the concern in his young wardās face when he picked at the once forbidden food. Miles would figure out how to let Mark in eventually, but for now, just being together was enough to live through the day.
The distorting, magnifying effects of time caused that day to become borderline mythical within the Miller-Mears household. However, despite Benās stubborn insistence, the heavens hadnāt opened up and rained their heavenly light upon them, declaring Ben to be āThe Best Boyfriend Everā¢ā. Nor had the planet quaked as the seismic shift in the lives moved the plates of the earthās crust. Instead, life carried on much the same. The school runs took precedence, as did Milesās application for community college, and in the evenings, they ran the gamut of B to Z movies as Mark steadfastly loved them all with an infectiousness that even Ben was slowly succumbing to. Not that it ever stopped his running commentary of scathing critiques.Ā
It was once Mark was tucked up and comfy in bed that the planning could begin. Sensing the energy shift as soon as the bedroom door was closed, Ben insisted that they take it slow. Miles insisted they get it over and done with, which only made Ben more certain. Eventually, Miles ceded to Benās point after he spent the whole session a nervous wreck, agreeing to every suggestion without listening, including inviting the neighbourhood knitting group over to watch.Ā
So they broke it up piecemeal, one day at a time. It started with quiet mornings spent in bed discussing the practicalities - which position would feel best, morning or afternoon, sexual or non-sexual. Followed by not-so-quiet evenings, feeling out what worked - allowing Miles to experience different parts of his body being held down with just hands, and then doing the same to Ben in turn. Letting him familiarise himself to the sensations without associating it with Straker or Billy Lee. After a while, it became a part of their routine, casual, sometimes even easy. And with each conversation, Ben swore Miles's eyes glowed brighter, his back straighter. Even his voice grew louder.
One year ago, Miles had little care for his own boundaries. Now, his timid Catholic mouse was telling him what he wanted to try and what to avoid. He still blushed, but Ben could see the simmering arousal hiding in plain sight. It was challenging. They felt silly, scared and elated in equal measure. But it deepened their bond in ways that years later they were still only just beginning to comprehend. And every step of the way, Ben guided Miles through it, until they both agreed they were ready.
Miles casually asked Gladys over lunch when she could next take Mark, and the date was set for a week on Friday. He put it in the calendar. Looking at it, seeing it was real, feeling the countdown in the ticking of the clock... It hit him.
He was still terrified.
After everything that had happened, he would always be terrified. How could he ever think he could leave his past behind, when that was all he was? All he would ever be?Ā
Alone in the house, Miles could feel himself spiralling, as it all came flooding back.Ā Ā
It boomed against the ringing in his ears that blared like a danger siren. Miles tried to outrun the shadow of Richard Straker, pacing around his studio like a caged animal in an unending marathon. But he couldnāt hide from himself. The speeches got stuck on repeat, assuring him, in no uncertain terms, how sick and abhorrent his perverted desires were. How he needed to give up control to him if he was ever going to have any hope of moving on. Turning the radio up loud, Miles forced the thunderous drawl into the background, adding to the taunting Greek chorus that followed him around the tiny enclosure. But with each step, the chorus welcomed its old members. The indifferent teasing of men who had only used him for their pleasure, the Major who fashioned him down into a weapon, threatening him if he ever questioned it, and the letter from management, attached to his blackmail tape, stating simply that he was their property now.
Wearing the carpet down beneath his stomping feet, Miles did as his therapist had suggested and got to work instead. With trembling hands, he set about making them useful and started on the finishing touches of the gift he had planned for Gladys and Theresa. It was a small vase, a still beginner's attempt, but it shone with the character and promise only a passionate novice could achieve. He tried to focus on painting it, a sparkly emerald green to signify their neighbours' soon-to-be 35 years together. It was slow going, having to apply coat after coat as he lost focus under the barrage, uneven lines ruining what had to be perfect. But how could they be, when everything he touched turned to shit? Useless. Unloveable. Hopeless.Ā
āMiles. Sweetheart. Honey.ā Unable to hear him over the torrent of abuse, Miles came back to earth with a soft thud as Ben hugged him to his chest. He swayed with him, led into a stationary waltz as Ben held those frayed edges together in the security of his arms. Even as his vase lay shattered and broken at their feet. When he saw all his work was for nothing, Miles wanted to call the whole thing off and run⦠But feeling Ben around him, he didnāt know why. But he stayed. Ben gave him a knowing look, and asked if he was having second thoughts. Not wanting to pressure him, he kept any disappointment from his tone. Chewing the cuticle of his thumb, Miles sounded only slightly more confident than he looked as he spoke.Ā āI⦠I want to do this still. I know I can do this.ā āAre you sure?ā Ben asked warily. āYou donāt have to prove anything to me.ā Milesās voice was soft as he looked up at Ben, āItās not that, I promise. I just⦠panicked.ā His face fell. āI donāt know whatās wrong with me.ā āDo you want to talk about it? Could be weāre missing something, and we need to fine-tune it some more.ā And to Benās relief and delight, he did. They sat in their kitchen, warm cup of tea in hand, and Miles told him what the voices had said. Of all the ways he had conceded power and control, and had that trust abused. Where they had previously only discussed the practicalities, they realized they had only seen the tip of the iceberg.Ā
For once, Miles didnāt sound so robotic as he explained it all off the cuff. No prepared speech, just two weathered hands laced together on the tabletop. Where previously he spoke as if the only way to survive was to gut himself of all feeling, now he sounded unguarded, raw. Like theyād opened up a nerve, poking and prodding at it until they knew as much as they could bear for one day. He hadnāt even needed the shelter of their bedroom.
So instead of calling their attempt at BDSM off, they recalibrated. Knowing Milesās need to feel useful, they planned to make a full day of it, something to bring them ever closer, something they could treasure no matter what happened after. It had been weeks since their last proper date. It sounded nearly perfect, but Ben still anxiously fussed with the sleeve of his shirt. Seeing the doubt that still lingered behind Benās countenance, Milesās voice barely registered through the quiet ambience.
āYou know I trust you, Ben? Know I aint always good at showinā it, but I promise. I do.ā
Ā Ben took a moment, taken aback by the question. His first instinct was to protest and tell him he knew. Of course, he knew⦠Didnāt he? Suddenly, he wasnāt so sure.
In those first few months of their relationship, they were supposed to build the foundations that set them up to tackle the rest of their lives together head-on. Instead, it had been a blur of FBI interviews, hospital visits and moving halfway across the country to build their stitched-together home. In their attempt to give Mark stability, they had to forego normal relationship milestones, a fact Ben Mears was all too aware of. While other couples looked to build timeshares and retirement plans, they were still rediscovering what it felt like to be human again. To be loved unconditionally. To heal, and most of all, to trust the other would be there when they couldnāt. It wasnāt a trait that came easily to either of them anymore, but they were trying. The fact that they were still sitting here discussing it was proof enough.
āYeah⦠I know,ā Ben said solemnly. The affirmation hung in the air, the silence suspending them between the couple as Ben let it rest, to see if it felt true. It certainly felt as true as the hand that squeezed his in surprise, softening into something Ben had spent his writing career trying to put into words. āBut I donāt need you to prove you trust me enough. I need you to want this.ā
Miles considered it until the man who replied sounded more confident than he had all week. āI want it⦠I want you to tie me up.ā Beaming, the words rolled out by themselves. āThen I trust you, too.ā
It was only then, as Miles kissed Benās nose to finalize the deal, that he realized it was the first time Miles had explicitly said he wanted to be tied up. Armed with a new plan and energized by a flash of giddy inspiration, Miles left Ben to make dinner while he got to work putting the broken vase back together again.
Ā He was going to jinx it. Ben Mears jinxed everything, ever since he bragged to his best friend in kindergarten that he was going to win best story at the school fair. He should know better after almost 30 years of experience. But fuck it. Ā Today was going better than he expected.
Ā Ā Shit, Miranda, is this how you felt the first time?Ā
Ā Ben bit his nail as he waited. Just as he had done years earlier, when he anxiously awaited Miranda to call him in. It had been just another lazy Sunday morning, but Ben had refused to let the treasured memory dull with time. He still remembered how it set his nerves alight, not to touch his future wife, simply because her luscious voice had commanded it. Instead, he had rolled onto his back like a trusting puppy, legs spread wide in their restraints, an unspoken invitation to keep them there for as long as she wanted. To his undying amazement and gratitude, it had taken her only a few weeks to spot the hidden side of himself he never knew existed. Even at the beginning, she had loved him enough to see the whole of Ben Mears, coaxing him out into the asylum of their bedroom, where his other self was accepted, celebrated.Ā
Ā Ā It had taken them months rather than weeks to reach this point, but theyād made it eventually. Now, Ben was finally going to pass his wifeās gift onto his dearest Milesā¦Ā
  ⦠Just as soon as he worked up the courage to open the bedroom door to where his boyfriend was waiting for him.Ā
Ā Ā It was the basis of all human desires, he thought. An open door, thrown shut. He sent a quick prayer up for her to wish them luck.
Ā Ā He rapped his knuckles against the wood, āMiles, can I come in?ā Ā āJust a minute!ā Ā Ben could hear him patter around the bedroom, putting his clothes away after his quick shower. He had thought theyād be more nervous, but barring the piss poor performance by the Mets ball pen, the day had gone off without a hitch. Mark was at Gladys and Thersas. Miles had cooked his favourite beef casserole with homemade apple and cinnamon pie, and they had sat at a pristinely decorated candle-lit table, listening to Milesās favourite album, just like the dates Ben had first promised him before life (and a few vampires) derailed their best-laid plans.Ā
Ā Ā It felt like stepping back in time, into a different reality altogether. The silver screen version of their romance that theyād dreamt of in their wildest, early fantasies. But it was more than that; it was the accumulation of months together, working on themselves and supporting each other through the highs and lows. Between setting the table, preparing the food and cleaning the dishes, they worked as a well-oiled machine, honed through the long days spent by each other's side. Where theyād feared the day would be awkwardly spent in silent dread, the coupleās chatter had been surprisingly easy, even when Miles admitted that he had been nervous, or when Ben confessed that heād worried about inadvertently taking on the mantle of Straker. Each time, the other had responded with a confidence that came only from having asked the same question of themselves a hundred times before.
Ā Ā Ā Ben still stood outside the threshold, anxiously brushing his hair back like he was waiting to greet his prom date, but he didnāt think there would ever come a time when he didnāt desperately want to impress the man on the other side.
Ā Ā āOkay, māready!ā Miles called. Ā Ben went to open the door, but in his nervous excitement, Miles got there first and flung it wide. He was standing before him in just his softest, black boxers, deliciously framing his neatly trimmed happy trail that burrowed its way under the enticing fabric. His hastily slicked back curl was still slightly wet, fighting to return to its rightful home along his brow. With nowhere to hide, the scars of his chest and stomach were laid bare against his pale skin, reminding Ben just how precious this⦠Miles⦠everything was.
Ā Ā Ā How dare Milesās thumb not understand just how truly incredible he looked right then, allowing itself to be nibbled by worried teeth as though it could ever be a question.
Ā He had wanted to tell him that and so much more. Instead, all that came out was a high-pitched, strained, āHiā. Ā Forgetting to close his mouth, Ben figured he must have looked ridiculous. But how could he care about any of that when Miles was on him before he could even bat his eyelashes? Ā Miles hiked himself up onto his tiptoes to gain leverage, grabbing Ben by the sideburns as he cupped his face to his. Ben could still taste the cinnamon coating his lips, but it was Miles who was devouring him as he pulled his love by the shirt and into the bedroom. With a quick spin, Ben waved his arm blindly behind him, just about managing to swat the door closed. Before it could waft open again, he slammed it shut with his back when Miles barrelled into him. Ben had no idea how Miles managed to move his hand to cushion his head in time. Not that he had any time to think when that greedy, conniving tongue was plundering him, stealing the confidence it needed with each press of their spit-slick mouths.
Ā Ā āTodayās been amazing, thank you, Ben.ā Miles kissed him again, lips magnetized to each other. āThank you,ā he mumbled. āThank you, thank you.ā
Ā Ā Straining between the door and Milesās thigh that had planted itself into its home between his legs, Ben bear hugged his loveās naked chest into the coarse thread of his jumper. Miles gasped into the kiss, allowing Ben to deepen it. He didnāt know if he was crushing him, or if he was just that good a kisser, but Miles went limp in his arms like his strings had been cut.Ā
Ā Ā Good, he was trying to get into the headspace already. Encouraging him on, Ben wrapped him up that bit tighter, clamping his thigh in place so he could roll his hips and lightly relieve the strain that had been building all day. It was just a moment, but he felt Miles squirm in his grasp. He made the split decision and held firm. Wriggling harder, but feeling no give, Milesās whole body shivered with a moan, letting himself be held up by just those strong arms. Ā āGood?ā Ben asked simply. Ā He sounded like a dream, āSo good.ā
Ā Ā Ben let go to give Miles space to think as he brought his boyfriendās gaze to meet his. Checking for any sign of hesitation, he asked carefully, āThink youāre ready to get the rope for me?ā
Ā Ā Miles nodded eagerly. Ā āWords, sweetheart. Gotta use our words today, like we said.ā Ā Seeing him relax a bit at the insistence, Ben pressed a quick, chaste kiss to his forehead. Ā āIām ready, Benā, he whispered. His teeth flashed their brilliant white, a shy smile pulling his lips like he couldnāt quite believe it either. Ā āOkay, get it out for us. Did you decide how you want me?ā
Ā Ā āU-um, could⦠could you be in your underwear too? I think, if I can feel your skin⦠It would help keep it different.ā
Ā Ā āYou just want an eyeful of my ankles,ā Ben winked.Ā Ā Miles clucked his tongue out of habit. Without Ben to lean on, he looked unsteady a moment before regaining his balance and bounding to the chest of drawers that hid the long-awaited rope under a mountain of clothes, just in case Mark forgot his self-preservation skills and went rooting around where he shouldnāt. Undressing quickly, Ben stripped down to his briefs, throwing his clothes into the hamper lest the mess distract his boyfriend. Making sure Miles didnāt see, he subtly readjusted himself in his underwear - despite how quickly the kiss had escalated, he didnāt want Miles to feel pressured to go further than he wanted.
Ā Ā Ā But boy, did Ben hope he wanted with the ferocity that he did.
Ā Ā This isnāt about you, Ben. Focus. Ā The weight of the responsibility started to dawn on him. The picture-perfect date was over; now the true test of their relationship was just beginning.Ā
Ā Ā He caught Miles out of the corner of his eye, squatting next to the bottom drawer. He held the pearly white, jute rope in his hands, weighing it up, getting used to the feel. They had spent that extra few dollars to get the softest one in the store, making sure to stay away from colours he had used before, as well as ones so bright that Miles could potentially feel self-conscious and silly. Just before he could ask if he was okay, he saw Miles clench it within his hand and nod to himself, steadily exhaling. Ā āAlright, get comfy on the bed for me, sweetheart.ā Ben came over and held his hand out. Taking it, Miles got to his feet, stealing a quick peck to Benās cheek as he leapt up. Grinning like a mischievous school boy, his face slowly scrunched in concern as Ben was slow to respond. Ā āNervous?ā Miles asked. Ā Ben bit his tongue. He wanted to deny it, to ensure Miles had the utmost confidence in him now that they were nearing the scene. But Miles was watching him steadily in the way Ben had done. He was a good liar, but this evening was about trust; he couldnāt start it by not returning it.Ā āYeah, I am, but itās a good nervous. You?ā Ā āA good terrifiedā, Miles giggled softly. Ben raised an eyebrow, but Miles cupped his jaw before he could respond. āPromise. Māexcited, just my heartās going so fast it feels like it's gonna leap out of my chest.ā
Ā Ā Without thinking, he placed his open palm over Milesās smooth, sweating chest. He was right. It beat like a galloping gazelle against the prison bars of his ribs, picking up speed under Benās touch, like it was trying to fight its way into his hands. Ben realized it wasnāt Miles who was sweating. Before he could pull away, fingers entwined with his own and squeezed softly. He always forgot how calloused those fingers were when they treated him so gently. They werenāt the hands of someone who broke easily.Ā
Ā āWe got the prep to go through first, then weāll go from thereā, Ben assured both of them. Expecting Miles to let go, instead, he led Ben by the hand towards the bed, walking backwards until he felt the king-size mattress against his thighs. Ben followed his bewitching nymph like he was in a trance, right into his domain of the bed. Amusement danced along the pools of Milesās eyes as he pushed himself along the sheet and into the headboard, leaving Ben to stare at him dumbly, hand still suspended where Miles had left it. Ā Returning to the present, Ben followed his path across the quilt. He took the rope from Milesās hand and placed it on the bedside table next to the balm and snacks he had ready for after. Sitting halfway down the bed to give Miles space, it occurred to him how alike they were to that morning just a couple of weeks ago, when Miles had been so nervous in telling him of the El Royale. Now Miles looked ever more like the patient teacher he wanted to go to college to become⦠which would make Ben his- Fuck, get it together, Mears. Heās relying on you to take charge.Ā Ā Ā
Ā Ā However, despite Benās gnawing concern that he was messing it up, Miles seemed to grow ever more confident. Ā The silence stretched on, but Miles waited serenely until Ben finally managed to gather up his scattered thoughts into something approaching coherence.Ā
Ā Ā āAlright - So, Iām going to tie up one arm first. Weāll take a moment, let you get used to it a bit. Then, weāll move on to the second arm. Weāll see then if you want me to touch you first, or myself.ā Ā āYou spoil me, Benjaminā, Miles hummed. Ā It looked like Miles had chucked a glass of wine at him as his cheeks blushed a rosy hue. āOnly what you deserve, love. Can you tell me your safe word?ā Ā āYankeesā, Miles said confidently. āAnd red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go.ā Ā āYouāre an expert alreadyā, Ben lightly grinned. āAnd if you canāt speak, either kick the bed twice to stop, or squeeze my hand twice if you can reach. Got it?ā Ā Without having to ask, Miles repeated it back. Ā āGood. And remember, we stop at any time, for any reason. Just because youāre tied up, doesnāt mean youāre not the one in control hereā, Ben implored. He had lost count of how many times he had said it over the last two weeks.Ā
Ā Ā It had taken a while for Miles to see their precautions as a necessity, always assuring Ben he would be okay with whatever he did to him. It had taken more than a few missteps and tough conversations before Ben was confident that Miles would actually use them. But in recent months, Miles had started to say them readily, even unprompted. Always checking in with a āgreenā and quickly using āyellowā when he thought he was getting close to needing his safeword. As much as Ben regretted not braving the conversation on bondage sooner, seeing Miles hang on his every word as they went through their briefing made him wonder if it had all come at exactly the right time.
Ā Ā āYou know that goes for you, too, right?ā Miles asked suddenly. Ā Benās eyes widened as he gave a half-hearted nod. Ā But Miles followed his gaze, like a keen bird, ducking his head when Ben tried to weave away. āHey. Words, remember? This is for you as well. Us. I donāt have fun if you donāt.ā
Ā Ā Even when riddled with nerves, Ben couldnāt help himself. āSeemed like you were enjoying yourself when the Twins got a grand slam earlierā. Ā Ā Ā āYouāre helpinā me with this, so it seemed only fair I indulged whatever humiliation thing you got goinā on, baby.ā Ā Ben laughed. Miles looked borderline smug as he watched some of the nervous energy release its grip on Benās shoulders. Ā āOkay, yeah, youāre right. Iāll stop if I need to.ā Ā Miles smiled, the apples of his cheeks ripening as he leaned over to pick up the rope from the table. He held it out upon his two open palms like it was an offering. Ben hesitated for just a moment before clasping his hands around Miles instead. He raised his knuckles to his lips and kissed them, one hand at a time, before taking the cord. He mouthed an almost shy āI love youā to his partner as he got comfortable. Head tilted back as he got a feel for the bed, Miles drew a heart in the air before mouthing the words back. Ben wasnāt entirely sure what the extra words were, but he was pretty sure it was āmy jackassā.Ā Ā
Ā Ā āComfy?ā Ben asked. Miles said yes. āOkay, letās go. Left hand, please.ā Ā Miles stretched his arm out straight away. Scooching closer on his knees, Ben gently held it as he started to tie the single-column knot, bringing it against the bars of their headboard, far enough away that it gave a slight stretch, but near enough that it didnāt strain. He looped the rope with shaky hands, trying to remember how he had done this a dozen times before in the last few days. Those wide eyes stared back at him, like he was doing something incredible- beautiful, even as Ben dropped the rope for the second time. It was like a spotlight had been shone on him. It was hard to keep Miles still as the hand that was being tied kept stealing touches, brushing the hairs of Benās arm, flexing to meet trembling finger tips like a rabid fan desperate to touch just a sliver of their idol. So deep in his own thoughts, Ben didnāt realize Miles was doing it to keep Ben with him. Ā Despite his best attempts to look confident, as he struggled to loop the rope back under itself, all Ben could think of was how he didnāt need to be Richard Straker to betray Milesās faith in him. The thought cut like a knife. Suddenly, the connection between brain and body severed as the wires became as mangled as the knot that lay loose across the bar. He stared at it blankly, unable to comprehend how useless he was being, even after all his practice. He knew on some level he didnāt have to be perfect, but to not even be able to do one knot? How did he always manage to fuck over everyone he loved?
But before he could spiral, the rope appeared before his very eyes to magically fix itself as a foreign hand guided his to pinch the rope back into place.Ā
Ā Ā āBen, get out of that handsome head of yours. Youāre not ruininā anythināā. Ā Shit, so much for his poker face. Had he said anything out loud? He didnāt think so, but his dearest Miles often didnāt need his writer to say anything to read him like a book these days. Ā āIām sorry. I don't know what's got into me⦠Iā¦ā Ben faltered. What had gotten into him? He had been so sure of himself in the build-up, but just the prospect of failure had sent him veering wildly off course. He searched Milesās eyes for any hint that he was saving face; however, Miles didnāt look disappointed, especially not when he weaved his legs with Benās calves like he couldnāt get enough of him. He looked⦠Ben wasnāt sure how he looked. Scanning between his tied wrist and Milesās face, he didnāt think his love had ever looked like this before. Ā Unable to process the way Miles seemed to melt into the headboard, Ben muttered limply, āI just wanted to make this good for you.ā āYou areā.
Ā Ā It wasnāt often Miles sounded so sure of himself. Ā Ben did his best to believe him as Miles gestured with his tied hand towards him. Despite Miles beckoning him closer, Ben could only see it writhe like a trapped mouse, pleading to be set free. The power didnāt rest easily on Benās head, nor did the responsibility. He had done this a couple of times with Miranda, but he was younger then. Had been too drunk on youth to let something as insignificant as anxiety phase him as he bound her to his desk. He had lost so much since then, discovered more about himself than he ever wanted to. He still hadnāt learnt how to be this new Ben Mears, but he thought he knew a bit about the man he wanted to be. The one that Miles saw as he asked him to kiss him.Ā
Ā Ā Leaning in, Ben finally took Milesās hand in his, and instead of freeing him, he held him tight. As if nothing could ever tear them apart. Milesās lips welcomed him in before Ben got there, willing himself to stay still so Ben could drink from him like he was his and his alone. Ben felt the hand strain and relax under him, while the other groped at the air, attempting to resist the urge to touch. But they werenāt there yet, so Ben took his other hand and brought it to the nape of his neck, ceding his body to Miles as he let him lead the kiss. He scooped Miles from under the shoulder, drawing him in like an octopus, melding them together into an array of moving limbs. Ben wasnāt sure when he had moved into his lap, but the soft laugh against his lips signalled Miles knew precisely the moment.Ā Ā Ā
Ā Ā Breaking away for air, Ben could only see the mess of auburn hair burrowing into his chest as he hovered above him. Suddenly, his captured mouse didnāt feel like the one who was the helpless prey, not when he felt wolflike teeth smiling against his clammy skin.Ā Miles had him exactly where he wanted him.Ā
Ā Pressing a quick kiss into the valley of his chest, Miles looked up. Hand still clawing at the loose strands of hair, he waited until he knew for certain that Ben was paying attention.
Ā It came out as the scariest and most wondrous confession. āNo one else ever cared enough to be nervous. Take your time, mānot goinā anywhere. Just need you here with me.ā
Ā Ā And Miles gave it to him. While Ben struggled to find the words to respond, Miles gazed at him like he was at the feet of something divine, memorizing every worried line and wrinkle until it was burned into his memory, rewriting all those that came before.
Ā Ben pressed his forehead into Miles', as though he could psychically show him everything he meant to him if he just thought hard enough. Thankfully, theyād already found their own way of saying it, through months of shared in-jokes and history, the origin which no longer mattered as much as all the utterances that were adding to it every time. Ā āI luff you, Miles Miller.ā Ā āI luff you too, Ben Mears.ā Ā It was then that it started to click into place. This wasn't the grand test of their relationship. It was just them, together. He didnāt need Ben to take sole charge as others had done before; he didnāt need him to be anything other than his Ben. His partner in everything, even this.
Ā Ā Nodding against the head below his like a butting cat, Ben thought for a second as he collected himself. āShow me you can get out?ā Ā Miles wasted no time in latching onto the quick-release thread and pulling at it with his bound hand. It took just a couple of tugs, but it undid itself, letting Miles go free. Ā āTa-da!ā he tittered with a flourish of his wrist. Ā Happy that Miles knew what he was doing and that the knot worked, Benās hands worked steadier as Miles talked him through it. He sat back in Milesās lap and admired his handy work. Much better. He asked if Miles was ready for the other arm, and after a quick tug of the first, he agreed. The second was easier, but Ben took his time, recognizing how vulnerable Miles could feel. He motioned to leave Milesās lap to give him room, but he stopped him with a jolt, lifting his knees behind Benās back to keep them close together. Settling back down with a squeeze of his thighs, Ben then ensured the quick release was within his reach as he leant over to finish the knot. Putting two fingers between the material and skin, Ben asked, āRope not too tight? Nothing hurting?ā Ā Miles tested it lightly, not wanting to fully struggle against it. He closed his eyes, blocking himself off from all other stimulation in the room, keeping his breathing steady.Ā
Ā āColour, sweetheart?ā
Ā āGreenā¦ā, Miles muttered without thinking. He could feel his heart start to pick up steam in his chest, his scars heating up along his face, and the skin under the jute tingling like popping candy. Unsure if it was arousal or the Royale trying to drag him back, he scrunched his lids up tighter. āNo, um. Y-Yellow, I think. Just, give me a bit longer to get used to it?ā
Ā Ben sat back on his haunches, keeping his fingers wrapped around Milesās in case he needed to squeeze them to stop. āCourse. Tell me if thereās anything I can do.ā
Ā Ā āJust⦠talk to me?ā he weakly asked, eyes peeking open under the gentle light. Seeing his boyfriend light up, he blinked them twice, just in case they were deceiving him. But if there was anything that could assure him that he was with his dear author, it was hearing him talk uninhibited. The way Ben looked at him right then, as though heād been heaven-sent, was a good second. Ā If Ben had a tail, it would be wagging a hundred miles an hour. In its place, the former hotel clerk felt his butt wiggle against his thighs, like a duck about to take to water.Ā Ben stretched and grabbed something from under the nest of pillows. Miles froze. What had he done?
Ā Ā āOh, Miles, Miles, Miles. My sweet, handsome idiot. Remember, you asked for this.ā
Ā āOh heavens, dare I ask?ā Miles sighed, unable to keep the grin from stretching his lips. Ā Ben pretended to consider as he yanked the object behind his back before Miles could see, āYou may, but pleading ain't going to help you, let alone asking.ā
Ā Ā āWhat about bargaininā?ā Ā Ben flicked Milesās single, sultry, raised brow. āDown, boy. Youāve already given me my greatest prize.ā Ā Miles was almost touched. Until he saw what he was really referring to. As soon as the corner eased into view, Miles knew. He wanted to marry this man. The jute around his wrists chafed, but they only made him laugh harder when he fought to escape. Ā āYou said you were worried about betrayinā me! And this is what yādo?ā
Ā Ā āEvery time you protest, I read another chapter, Miles.āĀ Ā
Ā Ā Ben dramatically opened his manuscript, flicking through the pages as though the 500-page monster didnāt just have a handful of hastily written waffle. It wouldnāt be his worst review, but thankfully, he had the rapt attention of his most generous audience. Ā Or so he thought. It hurt Benās ego, but the headboard lunged along with Miles as he tried and failed to grab the offending pages. He cleared his throat like a Shakespearian ham, ignoring the way Miles tried to buck him off. āChapter 1. The perfect, sexy, and definitely not a dumbass boyfriend finished writing his masterpiece. He had done it again. Never had money been so well spent as on his prestigious English degree. The soft roadblocks of his breasts bounded down the hall in search of their bosom buddy. Unharnessed, his nipples were as hard as bullets, pointing the way like two divining rods. It didnāt take long to find their owner. Hot and sweaty, lying against the sofa in a picture of complete defeat, the shifting punctuation marks of the lucky manās nip nops begged for help. āHelp me!ā, they cried. āI am but a simple country boy, we are still a millennium away from IKEA furniture.ā
Ā Ā Benās laugh at his own joke was punctuated with a thump as Miles whacked his head back with a groan, āThey- I did not sound like that!ā
Ā Ā āShh! Down in frontā, he admonished like an angry librarian. He made a point to clear his throat again, but the veteran took his chance. With a burst of force that would make a bronco proud, he toppled Ben over, crashing him into the landing spot of his bare chest. Before he could fight back, Miles raised his knees to stop his retreat and dived into the expanse of skin served up to his wetted lips. His tongue shot out in a rapid fire spray of open-mouthed kisses, as frenzied as they were honed on every weak point. The feel of just Milesās head taking and taking from him, savouring the sweat that built up between the valley of his pecs, made Ben rear into him, accidentally dragging their clothed dicks against each other. With a breathy, ragged sigh, Ben seized the bucking bull by the horns of his waves and held him at bay. Ā āC-Colour?ā Ben heaved.
Miles thrust in response. āGreen- ah! So green-ā
Ā Ā āSure? Donāt want me to read you the part about the scrotums and the PTA fundraiser?ā Ben teased, grinding his hips into the happy trial his love was selfishly trying to hide. Ā But Miles shook his head so fast he felt dizzy.Ā
"No? Well, you know i'd do anything for my number 1 fan", Ben pouted. But his voice lowered an octave, turning almost serious. "So tell me, Miles. How do you want me? Just say the word, and i'm yours."
Despite the playful interlude, Ben took measure of Miles, scanning his face for any signs of hesitation. It felt almost intimidating, being studied like that, but with Ben, he didn't find that he minded. Surprising even himself, the words came out before he could second guess them.
āI⦠I wanna watch you touch yourself. Please, Ben.ā He whined like he had been denied all week, not just a few minutes. They had discussed who would go first, leaving it for Miles to decide at the time. In truth, despite his determination to give up control, he was really enjoying Ben losing his. They had barely even touched each other apart from a few kisses, and yet Ben's composure was strained like a rubber band pulled too tight with every flex. Miles had worried over their weeks of planning that Ben was simply humouring him, but even he found it hard to believe when the thick cock twitched against the paunch of his tummy. Ben looked like a kid on Christmas morning, so eager, so⦠thankful.
Ā Ā Ben sounded hoarse as he shivered, āWhere do you want me?ā Ā āIn front, want to see all of you.ā
Ā Ā If irises could turn into love-hearts, Benās would have bulged out of their sockets. Not needing to be asked again, Ben pushed himself back in one almighty go, down to Milesās feet. Sitting on his ass, he spread his legs wide, feet planted parallel to Milesās knees. Near, but far enough that Miles could enjoy the view. And enjoy it he did as Ben tightly palmed himself over the simple cotton, rolling the straining member against his waist. Ā āRemember, youāre in controlā, assured Ben. Miles nodded, almost drooling at the bulge that was tenting his partnerās briefs. āOh no, want to hear you say it.ā Ā āIām in controlā, Miles whispered. Ā Ben shook his head, ālouder.ā Ā āIām in controlā¦ā He breathed deep, finding his voice, āIām in control.ā
Ā Ā Miles almost missed it, but the quiver of Benās lips confirmed it. He had whimpered. Oh.
Ā Ā Each word seemed to push Benās legs further apart.
Keeping his tone neutral to see where this was leading, Miles asked, āTalkinā about your chest get you goinā that much, honey?ā
Ā Ā āYou did- do. Can⦠Can I..?ā Ben gripped himself, hand still as he waited.
Ā Ā Miles raised a questioning eyebrow. āCan you, what?ā Ā āCan I touch myself⦠sir?āĀ
Ā Ā Ben held his breath, watching intently for any sign heād misstepped. However, Miles nodded to himself, his tongue protruding against his cheek as though he was testing the word in his own mouth. His eyes bore right into Benās soul as he shifted gears. Ā āMhmm. Thatās it, honey, askinā so pretty fāmeā, he purred. āYou took such good care of me today, think you deserve your reward?ā
Ā Ā āYessir. Please. Oh fuck, it hurts.ā
Ā Ā Despite the begging, a mischievous glint embellished Benās face as he slowly⦠oh so very very slowly, moved his hand, exposing the wet spot that painted the front of his briefs. The material clung to the sticky flesh underneath, and being the kind saint Ben was, he thrust his hips forward to give him a better look, a single barely-there finger outlining it, as though there was any chance Miles could miss it.
Ā Ā But where Ben knew what Miles needed, so too did Miles. He saw the needy, open face, waiting on tenterhooks to be told again how good a job he had done. So with a mean tilt of his head, appraising him like a bored judge seeing his final plea bargain of the day, he hummed. And he considered. Benās eyes narrowed, nibbling on his lower lip in anticipation. He wanted so much to touch his sir, but his eyes pinned him like a butterfly.Ā Ā āShow me. Let me see just how good you are.ā
Ā Ā God, Ben loved it when Miles got like this. It was so unlike his usual, kind and meek soul. It had taken time to ease him into it, a natural progression for their first steps into power dynamics - at first, it had been to prove to Miles that it could be done with love, so he could let go and submit. But Miles had gotten a taste for the way he could learn the new, needy side to his constant stalwart. Ben blamed the accent. Miles just said he was a slut. It had been the first time he had ever been coarse like that. Even reluctantly stuttering it out again like the polite gentleman he was, Ben would never forget the way it made him cum on the spot, and judging from the evil grin on Milesās face, he was thinking about it too.Ā
Ā Ā Ben dove his thumbs into the band of his underwear before Miles could get any other ideas- Ā āAh ah ahā, Miles chided. āEasy does it.ā
Ā Ā With a soft pout, Ben changed course, inch by inch, dragging the briefs lower until the crimson head shyly poked out. He stopped, gliding the foreskin over his bulbous tip between thumb and forefinger, coating it in the copious amounts of pre-cum that had built up. Seeing the fluid glisten over him, Miles sounded just as gone as he did, āNot that kind of easy.ā
Ā Not stopping, Ben smugly smirked, āNo? And what are you going to do about it?ā
Ā Ā The slam of the headboard was all the answer he needed as Miles attempted to lunge. Miles flushed in embarrassment as a growl of frustration reverberated through his throat, but to Ben, it felt like toying with a chained, starving pitbull. Laughing, Ben tugged his underwear down a few more inches, exposing the top half of the girthy length. He pumped himself with a tight fist, but Miles looked unperturbed, even as he started to delight in the dangerous persona he was inhabiting. Ā āHm, yāknow what. I donāt think I need to do much of anythinā. All Iād have to do is tell you to stop, and I think you would. After all, you want to be my good boy, donāt you?ā Ā Fuck. It was a low blow, and he knew it. But by god, it worked.Ā Benās brain went into hard reset, stammering as he moved his hand away, āY-Yes. Iām sorry, sir, Iāll be good, Iāll be g-good.ā Ā Milesās voice felt like a caress as he cooed, āI know you will, always are fāme. Now, show me whatās mine.āĀ
Ā Ā Unable to disobey, even if he wanted to, Ben pulled himself free of his underwear. But it wasnāt relief that he felt. Loosely gripping the turgid flesh, he paused, holding it up in pious offering towards the altar of his pagan god, that he himself had unleashed. Arms spread wide, Milesās shadow beared down on him, the ropes creaking, giving away the subtle shift of muscles preparing to strike. To devour him whole if he found his gift wanting. Luckily for him, Miles licked his lips.
Ā Ā All pretence was forgotten as Miles savoured him, āMmmhm. Gorgeous. So gorgeous, honey. Go right ahead, nice nā slow fāme. Give yourself what you deserve.ā
Ā Ā Ben whimpered a measly āthank you, sirā, before giving himself a few testing strokes. His thumb came out to run down the thick vein with each pass. It pulsated under the smooth pad, feeding his greedy cock as it transformed into a deep and angry red, engorging itself on the blood that gushed into it. And all the while, it drooled even more than the man who wielded it for his loveās entertainment. If Miles closed his eyes, he could tell exactly what Ben was doing and when with each corresponding grunt. Miles loved it. Loved getting to indulge in watching him perform, to lose himself in his own hand, so confident and uninhibited, so different to his own lingering sense of shame.
Ā Ā Miles had strived to be more like Ben, to give himself as readily as he did, to make love with the same single-minded focus that he could, separated from all that came before. But he didnāt need to be, not here. Where normally he bristled at the faintest idea that he was being selfish in bed, here it was all for him, and being tied up heightened it all, every squeeze and sound, that bit brighter, that decibel louder. Unable to look away, he couldnāt deny it anymore. Ben was loving it as much as he was. Miles didnāt even need to do anything; just being with him was enough for Ben. The realization felt as heavy as it did freeing.Ā
Ā Ā āThatās itā, Miles choked. āMade me feel so special today. Love you, Ben. Love you so much.ā
Ā Ā Benās hand lost its rhythm, clenching to stop him from falling over the edge, āLove⦠ah fuuck⦠Māclose.ā
Ā Miles was practically panting, like a dog waiting for its treat. āYeah, already? Bring your underwear down lower, wanna see you cup yourself.ā Ā He did so eagerly, moving them down just enough that he could pull his balls out, letting the underwear snap into place behind them, keeping them on open display. Ben roughly caressed them with one hand, giving them a tug on every other downstroke. At first, he struggled to keep the rhythm, but eventually, he fell into it, speeding up the hand on his dick, punctuating it with a roll of his heavy sack. No longer able to control himself, Ben started to ride his hand like a sleeve, the pre-cum coating the channel of his fingers as he dived inside. If a hundred hands were on him, Miles didnāt think they could take Ben apart as well as he was doing. The sounds being cajoled from him were a filthy, debauched symphony, all produced by a single musician. Each tug of his balls, cant of his hips, swipe of his thumb - all of them harmonized together as sections of an invigorated orchestra. Miles could barely believe his ears as Ben expertly played himself, eliciting slaps of skin that squelched obscenely, whines that would make even a soprano proud, and groans that drummed straight through his bones.Ā
Ā Ā And Miles conducted him through all of it.
Ā Ā He did his best to pitch his voice low, resisting the urge to beg. āFeel good, donāt you? See how good you are?ā
Ā Ā However sultry he had tried to be, must have worked, as Benās voice reverberated around the room in a near shout: āYessir, t-thank you, sir!ā
Ā Ā His knuckles was a blur along the shaft, hard and fast, suddenly stopping to tease and stroke, trying to trick his body to surprise itself. But all Miles could look at was the way Benās eyes rolled back into his skull, lashes fluttering as his jaw tightened. Miles didnāt even need to glance down to know Ben must be massaging his perineum; he always sucked his teeth in when he did that. Milesās hands impotently groped the air, a deceivingly innocent sirenās call, luring him into their claws so he could give his prey the climax it deserved.Ā āLook at me, Ben, look at me when you come.ā
Ā Trying his best to stay focused, Ben could barely hold his gaze for a second before his neck snapped back to the ceiling. It was all too overwhelming; he should slow down, but Miles wanted him to come, so instead his fist went quicker. His hips recoiled from himself, the friction frying his nerves until he couldnāt tell if it was too much or not enough. His subconscious wouldnāt let him give himself over to the pleasure pooling in his gut; he had to stay present for Miles. Had to make sure he was okay. Ā āI don't⦠I canāt... Making me feel crazy⦠Fuck, sir-ā he pleaded, hoping Miles knew what to do.
Ā āShh shh, youāre okay. Give me your hand.ā
Ā Ā It took a few beats for the words to compute, but eventually Ben waddled over on his knees. Replanting himself back into his loveās lap. He kept one hand on his member as the other flailed in the direction of Milesās bound hand. When their fingers passed over each other, Miles grabbed at him, pulling them together and giving his hand one squeeze for go. Ben returned the gesture, relaxing instantly, feeling that connection keeping him tethered to the bed even as his body felt like it was going to float through the roof.Ā
Ā Ā āThere we goā, Miles hummed. āNow, be a good ālil slut and let go.ā
Ā Ā Ā Fuck, it still worked. It was just a flick of the wrist, an accidental touch against the sodden tip, but it was enough. The liquid pleasure shot up his spine, branching out into every nerve and sinew that quaked along with the bed as Ben rode it out, screaming Miles's name like praises to heaven. He had just enough presence of mind to aim his shaft into his own stomach as it erupted - pearly white cum painting him as he coaxed out more with each tug. Miles watched in abject awe as it kept going. He could see his dick pulsate under the gaps in his fingers, weakly dribbling the final spurts from the head until Ben could no longer stand it. He rode out the waves of pleasure until they finally washed him up onto the shore of Miles's waiting embrace. With a final grunt, Ben collapsed into Miles's shoulder, coiling into his side as his body still trembled. Breathing heavily, Ben tried to move, to get back to focusing on Miles even as his eyes were still glued shut. He tried again, but his body ignored his commands and curled up into Miles all the more. His apology died in his throat when all of a sudden the hand that he had been holding wrapped him up and brought him into a one-armed hug. Miles had used the quick release.
Ā Ā Before Ben could panic, Miles kissed his temple, as reverent as if it were the Lordās. āPerfect. Absolutely perfect, honey. Catch your breath.āĀ
Ā Ā Doing as he was told, knowing Miles was okay, Ben let himself be consumed by the aftershocks, luxuriating in the way his muscles wrung out his soul while Miles held him together. Releasing his other hand, Miles grabbed the box of wet wipes from the side and cleaned Ben up, only lightly touching his over-sensitive cock that was finally beginning to soften. He helped Ben out of his underwear, a complete dead weight next to him. The only signs of life were the hand that kept attached to him as he worked and the reedy nose whistle that pierced the air whenever Miles felt too far away. When he was done, Ben flopped onto him like a beached whale, crushing the laugh out of Miles as he cemented himself to his partner so he could never escape again.Ā Ā
Ā Ā Which was just alright with Miles. His wrists still held onto the feel of the rope as he smothered Ben close - but it was okay. It didnāt carry the weight of years past, just the memory of how Ben had looked at him as though his whole world was contained in those gentle restraints. No one had ever taken care of him as Ben had done, and while it was sometimes difficult to accept, this felt different. To be wanted, desired, even when he was at his most vulnerable. The others that came before had either dragged him down to this state or coerced it, under the guise of the love that Ben readily gave him without ever demanding anything in return.Ā None of them had ever known how his vulnerability could be one of his greatest strengths until Ben.
Ā Whereas before heād only been met with looks of pity to downright disgust, now it was just the glazed-over eyes of the man who had saved his life looking back at him. Trusting in Miles of all people to keep him safe. It made him feel powerful. Made him feel readyā¦Ā
Ā Ā Just as soon as his ridiculous, blissed-out Ben could move again.
Ben Mears didnāt know how long he was out, but he came back to the feeling of blunt nails raking their way through his hair. If he had died and gone to heaven, he didnāt think he would feel as good as he did then. His head bounced on Milesās torso as he laughed at whatever Ben had hummed in his post-orgasmic stupor. It tasted like a āfuckā, maybe two.
Ā Ā āThat was⦠God, Miles. Still my dark horse, arenāt you?ā Ben grunted.
Ā Ā Miles brushed Benās hair away, drinking in his flushed expression as he rested his chin on Milesās sternum. āAnd youāre still my ālil slut, Ben.ā
Ā Ā Ben looked aghast. Sniggering, he chided, āWho are you and what happened to the polite store clerk I first met?ā
Ā Ā He would never get over how Miles's whole face changed when he got smug. āHe got a handsome writer to scream his name without even havinā to touch him.āĀ
Ā Ā They fell into a fit of giggles, Ben crawling up Miles to lick along his jaw, making him laugh even harder as the faint suggestion of a stubble grazed along his throat. Their hands entwined as Ben placed a precious kiss to each cheek.Ā
Ā Ā āWhat do you want to do now?ā Ben asked.
Ā Ā āI was thinkinā maybe you could tie me up again? And you could⦠Use your hands on me?ā
Ā Ā āYou sure?āĀ
Ā Ā āYesā, he said simply. Certain. āWant you. Want to be yours.ā Ā Staring at him straight, leaving no room for doubt, Ben vowed, āYou are. For as long as you want to be, it's just you and me. You've given me my family. Now, let me give you this.ā
Ā Ā Watching Miles's eyes turn glassy, Ben threw himself into the kiss, claiming Milesās tongue with his own as he wrestled it into the submission he would soon earn. Miles raised his hips to meet him, shaking as Ben softly manhandled him, moving him backwards, back to his throne against the wall.Ā
Ā Ā It took record time for Ben to get the ropes and restrain Miles into position. He contemplated having his hands in front, but it felt like too much, too quickly. Instead, Ben kissed each wrist and tied them back to the headboard's wooden columns. Milesās heart started to race under his increasingly confident touch, the significance of which was building in what he hoped was excitement rather than panic. However, if Ben could submit to a broken stooge like him, he could finally hand over his body to the man who plowed the neighboursā drives and felled the forces of evil, all with the same single-minded determination and open-hearted kindness that saved him from the Lot.
Ā Ā A few quick taps against his chapped lips broke him out of his reverie. A bottle of Coke was held before him. Ā āHere, youāre shaking a bit. Get some sugar in you.ā
Ā Ā Miles drank from it gratefully, not even realizing how thirsty he was. Ben wiped the dark fluid from the corner of his mouth before kissing the sticky, sweet stain away. Afterwards, they worked through the checks again until they were good to go. To make sure Miles didnāt feel too overwhelmed, they had agreed in their plan that Ben would stay on his knees between Milesās open legs so Miles could easily close them to touch him, and move away again if he became too crowded. But even as Ben checked the ropes again, Miles couldnāt help but draw circles on Benās calves with his toe.
Ā Ā Ā With a final kiss and a nod of the head, Ben slowly undid the button of Milesās boxers. He was still soft. Ben raised an eyebrow and asked if he was okay, but Miles assured him he was, that he was enjoying himself, even if his body was still playing catch-up. It wasnāt uncommon for Miles to take longer to become hard, to get over a mental block he wasnāt always privy to, and to simply feel. So Ben took him at his word and gently brought him out of the confines of his underwear, unwrapping him like he was his favourite birthday present.
Ā Ā Not wanting to overwhelm him too quickly, he took Milesās shaft between finger and thumb and slowly coaxed it awake. Cupping Milesās face, he brought him to look down between the thin rift separating their bodies. If there was one thing Ben knew would get Miles going, it was watching.
Ā Ā āSee how pretty you are? To think you let me have this for myself. Māso lucky,ā Ben serenaded, ignoring the way Miles inadvertently winced and shook his head.Ā
Ā Ā However, as if hearing its cue, the cute, blushing tip raised its head towards Milesās gaze like it knew it had an audience to impress. Ben rubbed the sensitive frenulum in encouragement with his thumb, giving it a quick flourish of his hand and leaving it to stand by itself proudly. When Miles gulped, transfixed on how it blindly sought out his loveās grasp, Ben gave his partner in crime a tug well done. Ben could have sworn it gave him a quick bow before blushing the same colour of Milesās neck.
Ā Ā Letting out a full-body sigh, Miles reclined back.
Ā Ā Ben started to speed up, kindling the liquid hot pleasure starting to pool in the pit of his stomach. āThatās it, baby. Just lie back and let me take care of you.āĀ
Ā Miles shuddered at how expertly Ben was working him over, like he was trying to compound all of his months of learning into just one hand job to remember him by. The blood plummeted downwards as he sped up again, the tiny little āah ah ahās cascading from his mouth were as dizzying to Ben's ears as Miles felt. Head heavy on his tired neck, he rolled it from side to side like he was drunk. And when Ben let go to draw him into another kiss, pulling his lower lip between sharp, but careful teeth, he thought maybe he was.
Ā Ā āFuck, even sound prettyā, Ben gasped.
Ā Ā The fire in his belly crackled at the praise. āBen, don't stop, please -ā
Ā Ā Giving him a moment to steady himself, Ben was back on him before he could completely cool - his open palm came over his tip and polished it like a pool cue. He gave it a few rotations, letting Miles chase his hand with his hips. But he struggled to keep up as his tormentor alternated his speed to drive him wild, stroking him at the same time to keep him in the building throes of ecstasy. When Miles finally started to get a measure of his ploy, Ben changed it up again, gently slapping the head like he was a bombing comedian on his traitorous microphone. Miles tried to slur out how mean he was being, but it came out as a broken gasp, as on the fourth slap, Ben pushed his thumb straight into the slit. It was like he found his secret button. It took just a single press for his twitching cock to instantly spurt out that sweet, cloudy fluid that heightened his touch even more. If Ben thought he had gotten wet quickly, it was nothing compared to Miles.Ā
Ā Ā āOh god, Ben- Ben-ā, he chanted. The slick sound of the masterful hand punctuated each cry, āright t-there-āĀ
Ā Ā āLike it nice and wet, donāt you? Think you can spit on it for me?ā
Ā Ā Miles did as he was asked, struggling to remember how when his mouth went so dry. It took a couple of goes, but he managed to work up enough to weakly slaver some down onto his jittering chin and onto his waiting dick.Ā
Ā Ā The reaction was instantaneous. His cock grew longer as it soaked it in, like a flower sprouting towards the sky in the spring rain. Wanting to see it bloom into that beautiful red rose he loved so much, Ben dived at Milesās wet mouth and chin. He lapped up every remnant of sparkling saliva with his flailing tongue, slapping it against his lips with a sinful slurp. Miles could only whimper, more drool escaping his mouth, held wide in a rapturous āOā, for Ben to drink up. When heād finally had his fill, he pulled back. He waited for Miles to check what the holdup was. Once his eyes widened in barely contained lust, he spat straight onto his swollen member. It hit with such force that it felt like a slap. His cock lurched. Ā Finally, at full mast, he couldnāt tear his eyes away as Ben took the engorged flesh proudly in hand. It fit him perfectly, like it was made for him. Cock absolutely drenched, it felt better than any lube as Ben took him from root to tip, releasing every time before going back to the base and repeating. When Miles was particularly good and bucked up, Ben would reward him with his other hand, working him in a cruel and brutal tandem.Ā
Ā Ā Miles wanted to reach out, to gain the stability he needed from Benās frame as he felt himself sink into that sweet abyss where his thoughts drifted into the clouds, and his body descended into the inky depths. He thrust himself towards Ben, but the rope pulled him back. Unable to get the physical grounding he needed himself, he put his faith in Ben to provide. Struggling to control his limbs, Miles dragged his knees to Benās sides and tried to pull him forward. He was so uncoordinated that Ben could barely feel it, but it was enough. In a deft movement, Ben came close in a flash. Now sitting, he brought Milesās legs from outside his own and entwined them over his hips, as he did the same to Miles until they were both locked together in a tight lower-body hug.Ā
Ā Ā It did just the trick. He trembled against all that was still holding him together, even as he fell apart. Ben twisted his hand, running his finger pads along Milesās juicy vein, turning him to putty in his hands. āOh my- Please, take me, māyours, all yours. Please, D-.. Be-oh god.ā
Ā Ā Miles wasnāt sure what he was asking for, only that he needed it. He sucked in the air, trying to at least maintain the semblance of his earlier persona. The one that took charge, the one he had been conditioned to see as better than this. It was the version of him that didnāt start to tear up as Ben kissed his bowed head and trailed open-mouthed kisses towards his swollen, waiting lips. But he didnāt want to be that side of him right then. Not really. Instead, he didnāt want to talk, let alone think. He wanted Ben to unburden him of everything, until he was nothing but a vessel for pleasure and the love that was spilling out of Benās mouth and into his own.Ā
Ā Ā Ben broke away. He sounded wrecked. āPlease, who?ā
Ā Ā But Miles couldnāt speak. He tried to hide the word in Benās skin, however Ben moved away, the restraints keeping Miles in place. Keeping him honest. With a curled finger, Ben raised his still-wet chin to meet him. āSay it, say whoās making you feel this good. The only one who gets to see you like this.ā
Ā Ā The command forced the truth out of him with a careening cry, āD-D..Daddy!ā
Ā Ā āThatās right,ā Ben inhaled, as though the word had physical form that he could suck into his lungs, imbuing him with all the power it contained. āJust Daddy. Daddy gonna make you cum isnāt he?ā
Ā Ā He nodded vigorously as the hand sped up, roughly fisting him, giving him everything he craved. He hid his face in Benās shoulder, but Ben laced his fingers in his hair and brought it back, making Miles watch the head of his cock disappear and reappear under his meaty hands as they hammered him like there was no tomorrow. Miles was almost there, he was so close - He could feel the world outside of them melt away into nothing, the way his racing thoughts were starting to slow down like they'd been dunked into molasses.Ā
Ā Ā āThere we go. So beautiful, isnāt it? Feels so incredible in my hand, in my throat, especially when itās inside of me. God, youāve ruined, Daddy. Only ever want you, baby.ā
Ā Ā Ben moved Milesās head into a dreamy nod. Do it again, he begged. But he didnāt, he couldnāt speak. He felt like he was on a tightrope over a great chasm, Ben and the restraints keeping him from toppling into the pit of his mind. It was exhilarating, knowing he wasnāt going anywhere despite the way he shaked like even a small breeze could topple him. The jute kept him alert, Ben kept him safe - it was a heady mix, something he didnāt dare break with words, something he could grow addicted to⦠But he had been here before, held over the dark, bottomless precipice where he was stripped of all control. From its depths came the shmoozing, distorted voice of Billy Lee and Daniel Flynn.
Ā Ā Hm, did you think some writer could just take whatās mine and I wouldnāt come-a-huntinā?
Ā Ā Miles tried to block it out. When that failed, he tried to argue with it, but all the words lay suspended above him as his mind was sinking further under the relentless motion of Benās palm. He shivered, coiling his body like a snake as he tried to sliver away from the voices that chased after him, as well as the hand that took his breath away- The rope suddenly scolded as they chafed at his wrists. Ā Ā What are you, some kind of pervert?
Ā Ā The kid canāt answer you, you tied his mouth shut.Ā
Ā Ā That mouth opened to prove him wrong, but his tongue felt thick and heavy, clogging his throat. For just a second, he felt the gag from the Royale again. He flexed, trying to get himself to that finish line that would obliterate everything, but he couldnāt; he needed to hold his beloved. Needed him to keep him afloat even as he dived into a freefall. Before it could spiral, Miles kicked his leg twice, squeezed his hand around what he thought was the air - however, Ben had seen ahead and taken it within his. As soon as he felt the second compress, he pulled the quick-release thread.Ā
Ā āMiles, are you okay? If you canāt speak, squeeze once for yes, two for no.ā
Ā Ā Miles gave a single squeeze.
Ā āThank godā, he sighed, relieved. āIām going to let you go, and weāll get you nice and comfy, okay?ā Working to keep himself calm and collected, he waited for Miles to nod before he pulled the other rope free and brought Miles into his arms, changing places against the headboard and bringing Milesās legs over his lap so he could curl the side of his head into Benās shoulder.
Ā Ā āWell done for telling me, sweetheart, so proud of you.ā
Ā Ā āMāsorry⦠too muchā, Miles sniffed.
Ā Ā Ben pressed a chaste kiss to his head. āThereās nothing to apologize for, you did so well.āĀ
Ā Ā They sat together, Ben rocking him gently, exaggerating his breathing to guide Miles to copy him. To Benās surprise, Milesās erection didnāt flag. Theyād managed to stop in time before things went too far. Where previously the slightest memory of his old life could be enough to wrench Miles from the safety of his home, back to the depths of the El Royale, Miles had never felt closer to the man keeping him in the present. Ben had always rolled his eyes at the sappy story, but Miles could have sworn he felt the mythical red, unbreakable chord keeping them anchored together, stronger than even Billyās rope. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, serrated pieces from various points in his life, jammed together as he tried to work out the sense of calm that he shouldnāt be feeling. It was too much for him to piece together by himself, but he saw enough to understand. He didnāt need the ropes to feel like he had given his body over to his soulmate; he knew now he had done it before Ben had ever entered the room. The panic slowly leeching its way out of his body, Miles breathed in time with his belovedās.
Ā Ā As Ben nuzzled the now untamed field of hair below him, Miles closed his eyes to block out all the other stimulation, everything that didnāt matter, and reached out his hands freely. Ben gave the one that wasnāt keeping Miles plastered to him, and without hesitation, Miles brought it back onto his crotch.
Ā Ben hesitated before checking, āDo you want to continue?āĀ
Ā Miles nodded as he squeezed. āJust you⦠No rope.ā
Ā āOkayā, Ben said, kissing the top of Milesās hair. āRemember, no pressure.ā
Ā Ā Benās touch was tentative as he lightly brought his hand back over the base of his cock, checking that it wasnāt too much. But Miles laced their fingers together and brought them up and down in a slow and gentle rhythm. Taking the hint, Ben carried it on, watching Milesās face for any sign of discomfort. They had a safety measure for when Miles was getting overwhelmed during sex, but wanted to continue. Developed from Milesās old routine, the one Straker had taught him to keep him from one of his āpatheticā panic attacks, they had reclaimed it into something of their own. Miles continued to follow Benās breathing as he kept his eyes closed, and slowly but surely, he reintroduced himself to his senses to keep him grounded.Ā
Ā Ā He inhaled through his nose first, taking in the smell of their bedroom. There was still that lingering scent from when they first arrived. New, freshly laid carpeting, and the colourful indoor flowers that had come with the property, making it instantly feel like somewhere they could finally call home. But there was more layered on top of it now, more of them. Cheap ballpark beer still laced the room, the meal heād lovingly made and the steam from the shower, carrying the shampoo he had stolen from his boyfriend to surround himself in him.
Ā Ā Ā It had been a long-held, shameful secret, how wild various smells made him, but Ben had worked his easy, accepting magic there too. Now, Benās favourite sniffer dog leant forward, resting his head further into the crux of chest and shoulder. With a shuddering breath, Miles took in the heady mix of coffee and whisky, the same as when theyād first met in his antique shop over a year ago. But now it was twinged with the slight suggestion of freshly cut grass that heād mowed that morning to relax, the more expensive deodorant he used since taking care of himself again, and best of all, the musky sweat building up under Milesās nose. It was just a quick sniff, but Ben opened his arm just enough to indulge him. His hand sputtered as he heard Miles groan. Ā Leaning into taste, Ben felt Miles take another deep inhale before he licked his way along the swell of his pecs. His loverās tongue lazily marked the way, lapping at the soft muscle, saliva glistening as it made its way towards its goal - but as he got close, he couldnāt reach, not without twisting his injured neck muscles, rendered tight from the scars of the buckshot.
Ā Ā Ben couldnāt help himself; his earlier worry fading from memory, his cock gave a little exhausted twitch. Whimpering against the meat of Benās bosom, Ben took pity on him and turned ever so slightly so he could cradle Mileās head into his nipple. Miles latched on in an instant, sucking the tiny, dusky nub as he pacified himself, dulling the would-be embarrassment of how he drooled and groaned on the intrusion. For as much as he knew it helped Miles, Ben felt his whole being relax into it with a satisfied grunt.Ā Brushing his fingers through his fringe to keep it out of his eyes, Ben cooed gently, āThere ya go, love, youāre alright. Sājust me.āĀ Ā
Ā Mouth now reassuringly full, Miles tried to move on and focus on the sound of Benās voice, but somehow his groans were even prettier as he heaved his chest forward into Milesās wet and willing maw. Unable to paw at his ample flesh, it made the experience all the more intense as he opened himself up to the delicious cavalcade of sound that was generously falling from Benās lips. Deigning it somehow not enough to his greedy ears, Miles scraped his teeth along Benās tender nipple, waiting for that delectable hiss before he lathered it like the penitent sinner, desperate to earn his forgiveness, even as he did it again.Ā Ā
  Miles could hear himself, the rhythmic suckling, the damp moans as he sucked in a hasty breath so he could attach himself again. All other noise in the room was forgotten as he pinpointed his attention on the abused, pebbled nub that seemed just as eager to return to that hot orifice as Miles was. It was filthy, the sounds he (or was it Ben?) was making banged against his eardrums, commanding his libido's attention. He should feel some way about it⦠The way his mouth suddenly went dry told him it was probably something bad, but he drowned it out when Ben pushed his head in even closer. Miles gave his thanks with a particularly loud smack of his lips as he suckled on him.
Ā Benās voice was barely audible over the heavy squelch of his hand as it kept nursing Miles, as he nursed on Ben. āThatās itā, Ben purred. āTake what you need. Itās all yours.āĀ
Ā Ā Feeling more confident, more present, even as he was floating, Miles attuned himself to the sounds of the world around them, letting it envelope them. Whereas once he had convinced himself he was happy in the quiet of Strakerās shop or in the deserted Royale, nothing could compare to the clamour of life surrounding him now. Noticing what step Miles was on, Ben quietened his breathing, slowing his strokes into a tender, lilting waltz.Ā
Ā Ā It was late, a single car drove past and parked nearby, likely his new dear friend Amelia and her husband. He felt so lucky to find a kindred spirit halfway across the continent, even luckier when he heard his ever loyal cat, Dot, bound down the corridor. She was one of his few remaining connections to the Lot, always appearing as if by magic when he needed her most, reminding him of the good he could still take from that town, and being there, toy in paw, when he couldnāt. Always the chatterbox, her meowing chants for food sang along with the dulcet tones of Nat King Cole from the living room. Ben must have put it on while Miles took his shower, remembering it as the first song they'd danced to when they moved in. It didn't feel like his house without the records of his Nana playing on, keeping her spirit alive. Transforming it into the home he missed, and the one he knew she would be proud of him for.Ā
Ā Ā Miles finally opened his long lashes. He blinked the haze away, not daring to gaze at his love yet lest it crack him wide open. Instead, he looked down at his feet, the soft, chestnut quilt was so unlike the rough, cheap and stained sheets of his bunk at the Royale. They had decorated the bedroom to be brighter than his small back room, more open and homely than his attic in the Lot. Even under the dim light, he could never mistake this as anywhere other than his inner sanctum. At the beginning of their relationship, his pulse would always quicken when he entered. Shame and doubt hid in every crack of the facade as he was unable to shake off the belief that there was something damnably wrong about sharing this domesticity with another man. But over the last few months, those cracks had been paved over with trinkets from their lives, family photos, and even the one book award Ben insisted foretold the death of culture, but Miles has framed pride and place anyway. The empty shell of a building they bought now bulged at the seams, barely able to contain their multitudes, let alone those of the friends and neighbours who had gifted them cherished pieces of themselves. He felt just as sheltered by them as he did by his boyfriendās arms.Ā Ā Ā
Ā Ā Tears started to fall freely as he finally looked up at Ben. The man who had shown him this could ever be possible. That tirelessly worked with him to make that possibility a reality. Letting go of the nub in his mouth, Miles could barely see Ben through the watery film that clung to his vision, no matter how hard he tried to clear it away. A soothing thumb wiped away the trail of droplets that orbited the ruby gemstones of his cheeks, causing more to follow in their wake, like they were desperate to meet that sweet, tender hand that was rising up to greet them.
Ā Ā āHi there, sweetheartā, the skin coloured blob whispered. āStill with me?ā Ā Milesās head rolled in an approximation of a nod, held up by the cup of Benās shoulder. Knowing that outline anywhere, Miles allowed himself to finally move onto the last step, letting himself feel everything that body gave his like it was its greatest honour. Closing the gap, Ben drew him into a soul-claiming kiss.Ā Ā
Ā Ā Miles felt, rather than heard, Ben speaking to him. The sound of something ricocheting into his mouth as Ben refused to break away for just a second. It was all just feeling now. The vibrations ran down the chords of the soldier's neck like an overtuned guitar string being mercilessly plucked, before being smoothed into blissful harmony by those devilish, kneading fingers that played him better than Ben had played even himself. Miles sang from deep within his chest. Ā Selfishly keeping that beautiful sound to himself, Ben drank it down, coaxing it out with each push of his thumb. When heād finally had his fill, he broke away, but Miles wasnāt done with him. He could still barely make out Ben from under the syrupy haze he was finally succumbing to, even less so now heād rendered him dumb under his lips. But he didnāt need to speak. Showing Ben what he needed, he pulled the hand from his neck and brought it to encircle his two wrists together. The air hitched against him, a āyou sure?ā barely breaking through the fog of pleasure as the tug on his cock kept pace.
Ā Ā Milesās foot kicked the bed once for go, and Ben clenched his long fingers around him. Miles shuddered in bliss, so Ben went one better and encased him completely, curling a leg around Milesās own like a vine as the other wrapped around his back. He brought him deeper into his body, resting his chin against the top of his skull until he was boxed in at all angles.Ā
Ā Where Miles had skimmed over the edges of total submission, now he felt himself plunge. He gasped, muscles pulling taut like heād been dunked into ice water. He fell off the tightrope and into the abyss of total thoughtlessness. And yet at the bottom wasnāt Billy Lee, or the El Royale. Not even Straker was waiting for him. Instead, he collided into his own body, like his soul had fallen from the heavens. Suddenly alight with every sensation in the here and now, his stomach collapsed around the hand that gave and gave, but Ben kept him still, heightening it, making him experience everything it could offer in every minute detail. Ben worried for just a second as he heard Milesās foot move. Looking down, he saw Miles lose control. Leg quaking, thumping against the air, he squirmed wildly but was still restrained under Benās calf. The weight just made his toes curl all the more.Ā Ā
Ā Ā Miles thought he was speaking (or was he screaming?), but it wasnāt his own voice he heard. It sounded like it wanted to cry too as it babbled into watery kisses, pressing hard into Milesās scars like he could replace them and write his words into his skin. āThat's it - You're okay, I've got you. Just let yourself go, let me take care of you.ā
Ā And he did, because the voice that he trusted more than anything in this world told him to. He could barely make him out as the pleasure washed over him, but Miles knew the shape of him. The taste of his lips against his. The smell of his sweat as he kept pumping him through his faltering endurance. The sound of his voice as it said everything he wanted to hear, echoed every moan and sigh as though the pleasure was his own. And the feel of his skin stuck to his own, limbs holding him in place as he fell apart. He didnāt know where he ended, and his love began. It didnāt matter. Not when he could feel his still beating heart galloping proudly, harmonized to Milesās own as his wrists were held so tight, that even the barrier of their skin seemed to disappear. But touch wasnāt enough. He turned his face to listen to that sacred, beautiful heart beat, bursting with love. And he wept.
Ā He knew he was in the home theyād made together. He knew he was with his Ben Mears. He had never felt so safe and loved, or so far away from the Royale. Giving into the body that bound his up within it, Miles broke. Pearlescant cum gushed into his partnerās hand, catching it to keep it off Milesās overstimulated skin. He almost wrenched himself out of Benās grasp, bucking and writhing, chasing and retreating into the pleasure that crashed him into the walls of Benās chest. It was almost violent as he kicked against him, but eventually the bliss released Miles from its grip, and slowly eased him back into his partnerās who caught him. Body no longer racked with pleasure, it gave in to the sobs that racked it instead.Ā Ā
Ā Ā Ā But by god, even as he cried, letting so many years of pain out, he felt as free as the birds.
Ā Ā Ā āThere we go. God, Miles. You're⦠you're perfect. Cāmereā. Ben rocked him as he came down from his high. He had seen the emotional release coming, and as he heard Miles try to let out torn-up āI love youās through tiny hiccups, he shushed him, promising him that he knew as he let his own tears fall. He felt so proud of his soulmate. The same as he did with every one of Milesās victories. Whether it was when he showed Ben yet another side of his once hidden self, took another step in breaking free of Strakerās chains, or simply managed to struggle out of bed to look after their son when he was at his lowest. Even in the darkness, he always found a way to blossom.Ā
Ā Ā When the sobs had subsided, the balm had been lovingly applied after they cleaned each other up, and the crumbs lay across the bed, Miles lay with his cheek on Benās bosom. He felt the drying saliva and tears under his cheek. But he didnāt feel ashamed. Worried he would, Ben turned it on himself. Jokingly, he swore to his boyfriend that by the time of their tenth anniversary, he would publish his magnum opus, rivalling even War and Peace in length. A simple instruction manual on the many tried and true ways to get Miles to cum so hard that he made the other person cry. Ben promised he would try to remember to thank him in his acceptance speech for the Pulitzer. Ā Ā Benās lips missed Milesā as he raised his head to meet him. Determined to show him just how incredibly proud of him he was, he tried again. But instead, he was met with a burst of air as Miles erupted into a puddle of giggles.
Ā Ā āHey!ā Ben clicked his tongue. āStop laughing, Thumper, I'm trying to kiss you!ā
Ā Ā āStop making me laugh then!ā Miles tried to kiss him back in a non-apology, but it was contagious. Spreading to its new host, Ben couldnāt keep himself still as he bellowed, relief pouring off him, and if he was being entirely honest, just a little bit of pride in himself. He hoped Miranda could see them like this.Ā
Ā Ā However, as they lay entwined under the sheets, Ben didnāt need to make Miles laugh this time to get him to accept what heād normally shun. He just needed to squeeze Miles tighter as he drifted off to the sound of their shared hearts, beating together. Alive and healing. It took a few more days for Ben to realize what Miles had learned that evening. That he didnāt need the rope to give himself fully to Ben. He had done that when he had first allowed himself to cry openly in front of him, letting him in. Trusting he wouldnāt use that vulnerability to control him as others had done before. Today had been his proof, if any were needed, that his faith had finally been in the right person.
Ā Ā The next morning, as the birds welcomed them into the new day with their song, they stayed in bed. Miles told him of what Billy had said, which had nearly brought their evening to a screeching halt. And just a few days later, their house was once again alive with the joy only his son could bring, he started to open up to Mark, too. He finished his gift to Gladys and Theresa that very same evening.Ā
Ā Ā Five years later, Miles sat in the kitchen of his two elderly neighbours. He had almost forgotten about the gift he had made for them as a thank you for that day. Shining brightly on top of their windowsill in royal emerald green, his vase looked brand new.Ā
Almost.
Ā Ā After it had broken, Miles took his inspiration from the craft book Amelia gifted him for his birthday. Remembering the chapter on historical art, he had remade it in the style of Kintsugi, repairing broken objects into something new. Something made better for its every imperfection. But where he didnāt have the finest gold, instead, he used the cheap epoxy that his son had brought him with his pocket money. It still couldnāt be mistaken for the artwork he made now, but it had been his starting point, as had those few, short weeks spent opening up to his partner about his past. He was still learning to accept those broken pieces as something beautiful, but held together by his family, and shared with his friends and community, he was now well on his way. And it had all started with Ben, being there to let him fall apart, and staying by his side as he built himself into someone more than the sum of his history. The person Ben always knew was there below the surface. The vase wasn't perfect, but it was to those who cared for it.
Ā Ā Ā Years ago, Ben had half-joked that Miles couldnāt go anywhere without leaving a piece of his heart there to make even the most distant house feel like home. But Miles had retorted that he felt at home everywhere because of the piece of Ben he carried with him. Thumbing at his wedding band, he mouthed a silent āI luff youā to the man across the table who shared his surname. The El Royale and Jerusalemās Lot felt like a distant memory, even as they walked in step with him, as they always would. But that was okay, because on those days that they reared their heads once again, he and his husband knew what he needed. Theresa thought he blushed. Gladys thought she saw him tear up.
Ā Ā But Ben Miller-Mears knew the look of desire on his husbandās face anywhere.
Ā Ā With a few more ropes and toys now at their disposal, they still had a few more pages to go if Ben was going to ever win his Pulitzer on time.Ā
Dividers by @saradika-graphics. Taglist: @musicislove3389 @lewmagoo @solarsentry @abbottsdarling @purpleheartspounding












