— terrence

So, Terrance was a talker, then. Hopefully, he didn’t require too much depth to his story. Dean would prefer to forget his life before the Haus and during his small break as nothing more than the motions he went through to get him here, to where he belonged. Anything about him that a client needed to know was listed on the Haus phone application - there were photos of all the staff members with their individual kink lists - easy to peruse so the clients didn’t have to ask personal questions - could find someone compatible and simply call the staff member to their room - no talking required. But there were always clients who wanted to “get to know” the staff. It wasn’t the worst trait, but personal history was boring - much more exciting to talk about the near future. Still, it wasn’t a question, so Dean was as succinct as possible. ‘Conservative mother, absentee father, a brief modelling career - when I got to the Haus, I discovered what I was looking for in life. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, except perhaps your bed, tied up and at your mercy.’

‘If I didn’t completely butcher it, it means something along the lines of “the pleasure is mine, sir.”‘ It was the closest translation Dean could muster, and one of the only French phrases he really knew from his modelling days and being introduced to those more worldly than he. Dean followed Terrance into the dining area and … fuck! That hand on his waist giving him a silent push to follow the order sit down - it was all he could do to not suggest that they forgo the meal and get straight to the afterparty. It wasn’t his place, though, not with clients so he quickly obeyed Terrance and took a seat. ‘Thank you. You’re most generous, sir.’ God, how he wanted Terrance to fully claim him already, the itch to have a Master was raging quite the yen within him.

“Ah,” A snicker escaped him. “No, it’s mine. Who wouldn’t want to take a beautiful man like you out for dinner?” The scents of their cuisines waded in before the latter did. Plates and plates of buttery dishes were settled in front of the two but they did not block Terrence’s view of the other, the chiseled edges of his countenance and the gleam in those eyes which begged and begged and begged tacitly. He would not satisfy his wish, not right now. Right now, Terrence’s hands gracefully took his knife and fork and dug into the chicken breast. After taking a bite - slowly, sensually, coquettishly - Terrence’s shoe brushed up against the other’s ankle. “So, Dean.” It ascended up immediately, to his knee. “Tell me about yourself.”  

Seeing as the client had spoken to him, though, it would be rude of him not to reply. ‘Tout le plaisir est pour moi, monsieur.’

Terrence smiled coyly at him. It was one of those smiles that had more to it then the curvature of a mouth and rosy lips, one of those smiles which were as cryptic as they were revealing.  “I don’t understand French thoroughly.” He confessed. “So, that better be a compliment.” Motioning to the table and candlelight that Terrence had asked for, he asked the other to take a seat. “Please.” A hand patted his waist, suggestively, before Terrence sat down opposite to the other. 

Dean was quite pleased when he noticed who had picked him for the Valentine’s Dinner. He was eager to spend more time with the most interesting man he’d met. Terrence barely looked old enough to be out of high school, yet the sheer dominance that radiated from him was enough to keep Dean happy. And the guy was a client to top it all off, which meant every moment spent following Terrence’s orders was him doing his job. And damn if he didn’t love working here. Dean donned a suit and shaved before heading down, wanting to look his best for the client, and letting it be up to Terrance how ruined he’d be at the end of the night. When he saw the guy, he was still taken aback by the fresh face, but knowing that beneath the young skin lay a predator, he inclined his head respectfully, a smirk coming to features as he realised Terrance could well be a perfect match for him.

In the main kitchens, clad in only a long, light blue button-up instead of his sweaty running garb, Dean opened the door of the refrigerator and looked at the selection of fruit. Deciding on a nectarine, he bent over and grabbed it from the fresh produce drawer. Standing up, he noticed another Haus inhabitant up before the sun. Since the room light was on, Dean shut the fridge door, so as not to let the cold air out as he took in the guy before him. ‘Good morning! I hope I’m not in your way.’

But, as the day grew brighter and twilight danced away, he made his way back to the Haus's central building. It was quiet, each of his footsteps drew louder by the comfortable silence. He wasn't alone in the kitchens. Terrence abruptly assumed the other was a staff member from the way he spoke, with an elegant politeness and awareness to his words. He was a characteristic the staff wielded. “ Good morning. ” His eyes trailed down at the other's chiseled form and it truly was a good morning. “ Oh, you've just done a work-out session, huh? ” Fingertips rose and crawled up his sweat-glistening chest, the movement tantalizingly slow. “ Does this mean you're too tired for another? ” Terrence asked with false innocence.

“Is that what you’re looking for within these halls?”  He asked the shallow question, “for someone who’s not so keen on taking orders you sure do want that,” he remarked though he wasn’t sure if it was generally with everyone or just him - it’s not like he knew how the boy responded to others.  He stopped the dance altogether, taking a step away from the man to admire the body without being so close to it, “you might want to think of ways to start showing me you’re interested, and maybe, JUST MAYBE, i’ll let you call me that.”

“ i am looking for wonder within these walls. “ terrence gesticulated at the grey surfaces, all solemn and concrete at first glance but brimmed with marks and scratches - remnants of previous sex sessions. “ can you provide that, mr. thorne ? “ he smirked, that abridged name obviously a way to lure and capture the other man’s attention more. 

“ disagreed, there are a couple of guys in the pool, they look pretty good too, boy. ”  he smiled, his eyes going up and down the nearly perfect body.  “ but yeah, you are a very good view… i’d actually love to see it closer. and i’m not really into doing so much exercise, don’t really want to change the shape of my body. you think i should? ”  

“ now you’re just trying to make me feel insulted. careful — you might lose your ‘looking privilege. “ terrence let out a peal of laughter, completely discarding his dark shades. “ no, i don’t think you should. “ his eyes washed over those washboard abs, those sinuous curves. “ you are pretty adequate, buddy. “ 

Michael’s hands never left the boys hips. He held him down, held him steady, brought him crashing back down onto his cock each time he moved upwards and bounced, like the little whore he was, the little whore that was finally blossoming into compliance. “Yes, Baby. Yes, just like that.” Michael moaned, his pupils dark and blown wide with lust. He reached around Terrence’s body and grabbed handfuls of that little ass and squeezed, fingers digging in until they left bruises as, finally, he moaned loudest of all and came deep inside Terrance’s body. 

Michael smiled up at him. “Oh don’t worry, Baby,” he cooed, his voice a smooth silk. “I will.” He grabbed the silk tie that had bound Terrence’s wrists and instead, wrapped it around the base of his cock, trying it tightly to prevent an orgasm. He leaned up, kissing the boy, stroking back his sweaty hair. “Bounce on Daddy’s dick, Baby Boy.” 

Michael would have to be careful with this one. He didn’t need anyone making him soft–particularity not before he’d had time to sample all that Haus had to offer. But this boy already had his tensions slipping away, and Michael had hardly had to punish him to do it. He grabbed the silk tie around Terrance’s hands and freed them, giving him a bit more range of motion. “Touch me,” he ordered. “I know you want to feel your Daddy.” He hissed in pleasure as Terrenace tightened around him. “That’s right, Baby Boy. Milk your daddy’s cock.” Michael stroked up Terrance’s hard cock, sliding his thumb over the precum on the tip. “You want to cum, don’t you?”

With that, he grabbed a hold of Terrence’s cock and held it–tight–so the boy wouldn’t be able to cum, even if he was to let himself. “I know you’re an eager litttle slut, but you need to pay attention to Daddy,” he told him. “Come here,” he ushered him closer, making the boy kiss him again. “Feel me so deep inside you. Forcing you open. I’m going to cum inside you, fill you with my seed. Soon. But not yet. I want you to just squeeze down on me. Feel it.” 

“ you’re so beautiful, daddy. “ 

Michael laid down on his back, pushing his pants down the rest of the way and kicking them off his ankles and onto the floor. “Come here, Baby,” he cooed, grabbing Terrence’s hips again and tugging him onto his lap. “Come ride, Daddy. Show him how much you love his cock.”

“ i love it. i love it so much. “ he said in almost incoherent slurs, hands pinned to michael’s chest to balance himself as he proceeded. his entire body rippled with pleasure, thrill, and sweat. 

“That’s what I thought,” Michael said, squeezing Terrence’s hip even harder as he drove his cock deep inside that hole, feeling it spread open for him, feeling it squeeze him and milk him. He started up a hard and forceful pace, holding Terrence’s throat and hip for leverage as he rutted into him like an animal in heat, chasing his own pleasure at the expense of Terrence’s body. 

Michael moaned as the boy clenched around him. He was like a vice, squeezing his cock–almost too tight to be believed. “That’s a good little whore,” Michael cooed, holding Terrenc’s throat with one hand, and now his hip with the other, his grip strong and bruising. “Tell Daddy how much you love being fucked open like the little slut you are, Boy.”

This one was cute–Michael would give him that. When he looked back at him, his ass up in the air, his hands bound, he looked like a toy on Christmas morning, and those eyes were so charming, Michael had to lean forward and kiss him. But that was all the softness he showed. As soon as he pulled away, he grabbed Terrence by the throat and shoved his face into the mattress. Holding him down with one hand, he used the other to guide his cock toward Terrence’s hole and pushed straight in, moaning as he forced it past the muscle’s residence. Terrence hadn’t been lying; he was very tight. 

“Good boy,” Michael praised, kissing the back of Terrence’s neck. He pulled out his fingers. He’d decided to take Terrence on his word; he was not interested in prepping him any more. Pushing Terrence down onto the mattress, he pulled up that plump ass just a little higher, and pulled out his own cock, teasing it against the boy’s hole. “Beg for it,” he ordered. 

Michael grinned, running one hand up Terrenc’s arching back, feeling every curve of his spine, while with the other hand, he pushed those two fingers in and out, in and out. “You like this, don’t you?” he asked. “You like being a little whore. Like a bigger, stronger man pushing you down and taking what’s his?”