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A moan breaks across the room and Eddie snaps his head up towards it, to the chair on the other side of the table where Steve is sitting, face flushed a dark red that creeps down his neck.
“What did I tell you about being quiet?” Eddie asks. “If you make me fuck this up, you already know you’re not going to like what happens,” he warns, tone firm but loving, flicking his eyes away from Steve and back down to the project he has spread out over the table between them.
“Sorry Eddie,” Steve whispers, and his voice is fucking wrecked. Eddie catches him shifting a little and lifts his head to shoot Steve another dirty look. Steve keens, very quietly. “It’s just, fuck, it’s so big, I can’t keep-”
“You can and you will,” Eddie snaps, narrowing his eyes in warning. And then he pauses, just for a second. “Color?” he asks.
“Green,” Steve whines, and rolls his hips again, reaching out to grasp the edge of the table with his hands. “But-”
“Good. Then I don’t want to hear another word out of you unless I ask you a question. Otherwise I’ll make you keep it in all night and I won’t fuck you in the morning either.” It’s a warning that he is pretty sure Steve could see through, if he was in his right mind. But Steve hasn’t been in his right mind for hours. Not since he showed up way too early for their planned date night, muttering something about being bored out of his mind and Eddie decided he could have a little fun and still finish what he was working on at the same time. He’d teased Steve almost to the brink, then stretched him open with two fingers, then three.
Then he’d dug out their new dildo, one neither of them had even tried yet, big enough to stretch but not quite as big as his own dick, slid it inside, led Steve to the table, and told him to sit.
That was–he checks the clock–forty five minutes ago.
But Eddie still isn’t done.
“You can move your hips. But stay fucking quiet. Do you understand?” Eddie checks, raising a brow. Steve’s still in his shirt, and from the waist up he looks almost normal, other than the flush and the panting. But Eddie knows if he looks under the table he’ll see exactly what he wants to see–Steve’s cock, red and neglected. His hole stretched lewdly around the toy’s base, red and puffy and clenching desperately. He knew the dildo was just long enough to brush at Steve’s prostate, but not quite long enough to provide enough stimulation like this for Steve to come just from having it inside him.
Perfection.
Steve nods again. “Yes,” he gets out, and shivers at the effort to not say more.
“Good boy,” Eddie says with a smile, and then picks up the Gothmog miniature he’d been working on. “Now,” he says, considering it with a little smile, “do you think his cloak needs to be a darker gray?”
This goes on for what feels like an hour, though by the clock it’s only another fifteen minutes. Steve keeps moving his hips in small circles, and a few whimpers slip through that Eddie ignores out of the goodness of his heart. He’s finally finished Gothmog and sets it down with the small group of other Osgiliath figures he’s been working on, and then he sets his paintbrush down too.
And then Steve lets out a sob and Eddie looks up.
He’s even darker red now, chest heaving, and there are tears starting to well up in his eyes. So pretty they make Eddie want to chase them more, wants to make Steve cry for real.
“Color?” he asks again, trying to sound indifferent though the side of Steve falling apart like this is making him far more aware of his own hardness, the way he’s stiffening fast in his jeans.
“Green, but, Eddie-”
Eddie tsks. “This is exactly why we’re in this position, Stevie,” he chides, shaking his head and crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair, ignoring the throb of his own cock. “You’re a bratty little slut who can’t remember the rules. Why should I reward you when you’re over there, desperately fucking yourself on that dildo I so graciously gave you, and you can’t even remember what to call me?”
“Sir,” Steve sobs out, fast and broken. Eddie lets it heat his blood, lets it slide down his skin. There’s something so sinful about having Steve like this, about getting him desperate and begging. Something from his high school fantasies, his dreams of bending a jock over in the locker room and proving to them that what they really need is his cock. Dreams of making them jump when he says how high. Steve plays the role so perfectly, and moreso, seems to get off on it the meaner Eddie can make himself be.
And so, Eddie sighs again, dropping his eyes to the paintbrush as another idea sparks in his gut.
“You really haven’t been a good boy for me today,” Eddie says, conversationally. “What I really should do is take that dildo out of you and send you home aching and empty, so you know how good I’ve been to you. Or I could let you fuck me with it,” he says, actually liking the thought of that, “and make you watch me come all over it, not give you an ounce of pleasure.”
“Please, sir,” Steve half sobs, knuckles harsh white as he grasps the table. “I’ll do anything, you know I’ll do anything for you to fuck me,” he begs.
Eddie leans forward, across the table, and beckons Steve closer with a finger. Steve complies, leaning in, licking his lips in anticipation.
Then Eddie lifts a hand and smacks him across the cheek, hard, the sound reverberating through Eddie’s kitchen. Steve keens at the sensation, shoulders heaving as he pants harder, tears prickling in his eyes again as he looks back to Eddie, a little dumbstruck.
Eddie knew it was on the list of things Steve wanted to try, but he assumes Steve wasn’t expecting it now. Before he can even ask what color Steve is, Steve is speaking.
“Thank you, sir,” he says, so beautiful and perfect. “Green, so fucking green.”
“Good,” Eddie praises, and puts his fingers on Steve’s chest to push him back into his chair, enjoying the gasp he lets out as the dildo re-seats itself fully inside him. And then Eddie stands up and leaves the room.
He can hear Steve whimpering as he heads into the bedroom, digs around for something and then pockets it. He finds what he needs fast but decides to take a minute, to let Steve sweat. He had been planning on fucking Steve today, but the more he thinks about it the more he thinks there’s something else he wants first.
There’s a groan from the kitchen and Eddie smirks, wondering how in his head Steve is right now.
“You better not be touching your dick,” he calls through the house, and then decides he wants to make Steve wait even longer.
Eddie slides his pants down and props himself back on the bed, pulling the bottle of lube from his pocket and drizzling it over his fingers. He ignores his cock and goes straight to his hole, having to bite down his own moan at the feeling of his finger pushing inside. Usually he’d take longer for this, but now that the idea is in his head he doesn’t want to wait another minute. He works a second finger in, pausing to listen and grinning in satisfaction as he catches tiny like “uh, uh, uhs” from the kitchen that indicate Steve is fucking himself on the dildo. Carefully he scissors out his fingers, stretching, and then he fumbles for the bedside table and finds his favorite plug–much smaller than the dildo Steve has been on this afternoon–lubes it up and slides it home with a soft gasp into the pillow.
Then, he wipes his hands off on the sheets and tugs his pants up, grabbing the lube and shifting from one foot to the next to test his handiwork. Perfect.
He saunters back into the kitchen, making sure he doesn’t change the way he walks so Steve doesn’t know what he’s done.
“Sir,” Steve breathes out, hips stuttering to a halt, relief flooding his face at the sight of Eddie back so soon. “I was such a good boy,” he promises.
Eddie steps to his side of the table, setting the lube aside so he can reach down to roughly grab Steve’s chin. “I don’t think that’s true,” he says, all mean and harsh. “You spoke to me without me asking you a question. Open your mouth,” he commands, and Steve complies. First, Eddie reaches down to grab the hem of his shirt, sliding it up over Steve’s hairy chest and fully off, tossing it behind him into the hallway. Then Eddie moves his hand and shoves three fingers into Steve’s still-open mouth. “Should have gagged you,” he muses, half to himself. “I do like it when you drool all over yourself.”
Steve whimpers around his fingers and lets himself do just that. Eddie feels the saliva pooling in Steve’s mouth, feels it dribbling out around his hand, and he smiles down at him. “Give me your hand,” he says, and Steve lets go of the table to comply.
Eddie slides his own fingers out of Steve’s mouth and replaces them with four of Steve’s. “Good boy,” he coos, and Steve moans softly around his hand, lips stretched obscenely around himself. Eddie can see the way his tongue is working underneath them, and he feels a shiver skate down his spine.
Then he lowers himself to sit on Steve’s muscular thighs, far enough back that his jeans don’t brush Steve’s cock. There’s something so fucking hot to Eddie about being fully clothed while Steve is fully naked and desperate. Makes it all feel so much more delicious, makes him feel powerful in a way few other things do. He could do anything he wanted to Steve, and Steve can’t even see his cock. Grinning down at his boyfriend, he turns to reach over to the table and picks up a clean brush.
“What do you think, baby? I think you look good in blue,” he hums.
Above him, Steve starts to slide his fingers out of his mouth.
“Uh uh,” Eddie chides. “Did I say you could take those out? And answer my question. I’m waiting.”
“S'rry srr,” Steve slurs hard around his fingers in a half sob, more drool gathering as he tries to talk, his stomach muscles with desire. “Bloo's good.”
Eddie nods and pops open the cap of his favorite baby-blue paint bottle, squirting a small dab into the tray. Then he dips the small brush into the paint and turns back to face his canvas. Steve is watching him closely, shifting his hips as much as he can with Eddie’s weight on them, but when Eddie drags the paint-covered brush over Steve’s nipple, Steve still gasps in shock and flinches away from him.
“Cold,” he murmurs, and Eddie shakes his head.
“Didn’t say you were going to enjoy this, baby. Said you were going to take whatever I decided to give you.”
Steve nods, swallows around his fingers. The drool is starting to slide down his chin now, and Eddie knows it won’t be long before it drips onto his chest. “Th-yew-srr,” he slurs out, and Eddie feels his cock twitch in satisfaction. He really needs to buy that ball-gag he’s been eyeing. Steve is so perfect when his mouth is full.
Eddie redips the paintbrush and traces it down Steve’s throat, trying to avoid the hairiest parts of his chest and sticking to areas he know will have Steve twitching. He pauses and pulls back to look at his canvas and then he grins with an idea.
“I know,” he says to himself, pleased. “That sharpie last time looked so fucking hot on you, but it didn’t tell anyone who you are,” he muses. And then he dips the brush and, in the largest letters he can fit, writes the word SLUT on Steve’s chest, blue stark against the red of his body.
Eddie sets his brush down and stands up to step back to survey his work and it’s almost too much to bear. Steve is flushed darker than Eddie has ever seen him and panting hard, Eddie’s artwork looking beautiful and sinful on his chest. His chin is wet and there’s a long string of saliva sliding down around his fingers, eyes are a little glassy. His cock is hard and pulsing with need, dripping precum and twitching in time with Steve’s abs. Eddie circles the chair, crouching down to look between the slats. He can just see the base of the dildo, and part of Steve’s abused hole stretched around it. Unable to help himself, Eddie reaches out and brushes the skin with a finger, and Steve screams around his hand, clenching and twitching and trying to jump away without falling off the chair.
Suddenly, the feelings in Eddie’s body slam hard into him, and he’s so desperate to feel Steve inside of him that he knows, now, the games are over.
Well.
Mostly over.
Eddie stays behind the chair and tugs his shirt off, shucks his pants and boxers with it. He likes that Steve can’t see him, can’t see what’s coming next.
Then he circles around to the front and smirks, smug and self satisfied, at the way Steve’s eyes go wide at the sight of his cock.
“You better not come until I tell you,” Eddie says, and Steve nods fast in agreement, manages to remember to keep his fingers in place as he waits to see how Eddie wants him.
But all Eddie does is reach around and tug the plug out of his own ass, groaning at the sensation. Steve’s eyes widen even further as Eddie steps over him, one leg on either side. He snags the bottle of lube he’d left on the table and uncaps it, squirting a glob down onto Steve’s aching length.
“Fuuu!” Steve half shouts around his fingers, as he realizes what Eddie’s about to do. Eddie doesn’t give him long to get used to the idea, instead he lines himself up and sinks all the way down until he’s resting his weight back on Steve’s thigh, Steve’s dick seated fully inside of him.
Underneath him, Steve sobs.
“You can move your fingers, baby. You don’t have to be quiet anymore,” Eddie whispers in his ear, and Steve complies.
“Eddie—sir–I can’t, I, it’s too much, I’m going to–”
“No you’re not,” Eddie snaps, and presses his hands down on Steve’s shoulders to use him as leverage. “I won’t make you wait forever, but I like feeling your cock stretching me, so you’re going to be a good boy and wait.”
Eddie starts to move his hips, knowing that even if he told Steve not to come, there was only so long he’d be able to hold out physically. He focuses on lifting up and pulling Steve up a bit with him, dropping back down to get Steve feel the dildo shift in his ass. Eddie only manages to do this three times before Steve starts to whimper against him, his short fingernails digging into Eddie’s ribs.
“Ed, Ed, sir, baby, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobs, and Eddie feels his resolve to tease Steve any longer crack.
“You’re so good for me, baby, you can come,” Eddie whispers down into Steve’s hair, and Steve whimpers and then moans, spurting hot strands of come up into Eddie. Eddie groans at the feel of it, letting his head fall back as he rides Steve through the orgasm. And then his own urge to come is suddenly so strong he can’t wait another minute.
Eddie pulls off and catches Steve’s lips in a kiss, standing fast from his lap. “Baby,” he starts, reaching for him. “Can I?”
Steve is so done, so spent on the teasing and edging and orgasm that’s ripped through him that all he can do is nod. Eddie reaches down and tugs him up to standing, bends him over the desk, knocking over one of his figures and not caring at all as it crashes to the floor.
“You just lie here, baby, okay?” Eddie says into his neck, and then he reaches down and tugs the dildo from Steve’s hole.
It’s fucking obscene, how stretched and wet and red he is. All Eddie can do is whimper and grab one more small squirt of lube for his cock and then he’s lining up behind Steve and pushing home in one full stroke.
“Fuuuuck,” he moans down into Steve’s back, feeling Steve shiver underneath him. “So stretched out for me, baby. So fucking perfect. Not gonna last, baby, when your hole is this fucking good.”
And he’s right. He pulls out and thrusts in once. Then again. A third time.
Steve clenches around him with another whimper and that does it, pulling Eddie over the edge with a shout as he fills Steve with his come.
They lie there together on the desk for a long few minutes before Eddie feels Steve’s legs shaking underneath him.
“You did so good for me, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, as he slides out and presses soft kisses to Steve’s back. “What do you need? A bath? Bed?”
Steve pushes up to standing but he looks like he could topple over at any minute. “M’good. Bed?” he murmurs.
“You’re better than good,” Eddie promises, as he wraps his arms around Steve and leads him to their bedroom, tucking him under the sheets, crawling in behind and wrapping his arms around him from behind. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
And then he snuggles in, face burrowing in Steve’s soft hair. “I love you,” Eddie says, and Steve makes a content noise in front of him.
“Love you,” Steve whispers. And then, together, they drift off to sleep.