lee_fallon | PSL - Chance Encounter

Lee's been in Darrow now about a week and a half, and he's been to every bar in the city limits, met all of the owners, and offered to tailor each of their wine lists. He wasn't getting paid for any of this, but based on the amount of money in his bank account, his monthly stipend, and the cost of rent, he didn't really need money to get by day to day. And he certainly didn't need to save up for anything.

He still hasn't bothered to see a doctor. He feels like he probably should, just so someone in the city (besides his dear friend Susan) knows what was going on with him. But he'll get to that later.

Today he's out for a run. His running shoes arrived in the mail yesterday, and he's been itching to get his pulse up. He never feels as alive as he does when he's out on the street, feet pounding against the pavement, sweating freely, breathing hard. Sex is a very close second, but nothing beats the adrenaline rush of a good, hard sprint.

He doesn't have a route yet, just sort of turning left and right at intersections with no rhyme or reason. He's planning on doing six miles today, using the app on his phone to track his progress; so far he's just over four miles, maintaining something close to an eight minute mile pace, nice and respectable.

But then, turning a corner, he stops, abruptly enough that he nearly stumbles. It's been a few days since he last saw Connor, his last glimpse when Connor slipped out of his apartment. He'd thought about calling a few times, just to check on him, but for some reason Lee had always changed his mind.

Here he is now, walking down the street, late afternoon sun lighting up his face. Lee's thought about him a lot, about what it had been like to be with him, but also worrying about him, all that sorrow filling him up, sending him on a self-destructive path. He looks good, right now, not happy really but not falling into himself like he had been a few nights ago.

He can't make himself say anything, just stands and watches Connor walk his way on the opposite side of the street. He's breathing heavily from running, covered in sweat, and his heart is pounding, but some of that has to do with seeing Connor again. More than he's willing to admit even to himself.

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Oh, fuck. The very slight pressure around his throat amazing. He lets Lee push him back as much as he wants.

"I don't know," he says, still biting his lips. "Maybe you want the option to have me on my belly or my knees? Or do you want my legs tied apart?"

"I want you on your knees," Lee tells him, knowing Connor is talking about a means of adjustment, but focusing on the idea of fucking Connor that way. "I'm just going to tie your arms," he says. "So the only one that can touch you is me."

At the doorway to Lee's room, Lee presses Connor's back into the door frame, holding him there with his hand still on Connor's throat. "Tell me you want this," he says, and it's rough like the rest of what Lee's been saying, but he wants the truth here, doesn't want to take too much.

"I want it," says Connor, without a moment's hesitation. His cock, pressing against his underwear, tenting the thin fabric, is evidence enough but he can understand why Lee needs to hear him say it. He squirms a little against the doorframe for emphasis. "You can do anything you want to me."

Lee's expression is dark, his eyes on Connor's face, and he thinks about some of the other things he's thought about doing, the things he could take from Connor. One step at a time, he thinks, though he squeezes his hand around Connor's throat just a bit, not enough to choke him, but tight enough to make it difficult for Connor to swallow.

"Go kneel on the bed," Lee tells him, a soft command. "And take your underwear off." He licks his lips, holding Connor's gaze for a moment longer before he lets him go.

Connor swallows, just to feel the press of Lee's fingers against his adam's apple and then bites his lip, his eyelashes fluttering slightly. When Lee lets him go, Connor nods, just slightly, and then steps away, fingers pushing under the waistband of his underwear, shoving them down long, tanned thighs. He gets up on the bed on his knees, glancing back over his shoulder at Lee.

Connor looks so good all the time, but seeing him do this, what Lee says, without complaint or comment sends a shiver through Lee. There's a part of Lee that wants to be tender too, and he knows he might not ever get the chance for that, but this is better, this is good, he wants this.

He hasn't been here long and he doesn't have much in the way of resources, so he gets the spare set of shoe laces from his new running shoes and sets them on the bed. He climbs up himself, kneeling behind Connor for a moment, wrapping his hands around Connor's waist and pressing his front to Connor's back, letting Connor feel his cock against him, hot and hard. He brushes one hand down Connor's belly, wraps a loose hand around Connor's dick, and strokes him a couple of times gently.

A couple of hours ago, if you'd asked Connor how he was spending his afternoon, this wouldn't have been what he'd said, but his is pretty incredible, all the same. He presses his ass back against Lee, biting his lip at the feel of Lee's cock sliding against him and then lets his head fall forward at the touch of Lee's fingers along his cock.

"Thank you, Sir," he says, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Lee's a little overwhelmed by a wave of arousal that breaks over him when Connor calls him 'sir.' He's never felt like he wanted to be dominant like this, but it feels good, powerful, but not in a way that scares him. Connor's submitting to him, and Lee wouldn't want this if Connor didn't.

He drops a kiss to the side of Connor's neck, then his shoulder, stroking him a few more times before he lets him go. "Bend over," he commands gently. "Rest your face against the bed, and stretch your arms toward the corners of the mattress."

It takes him a moment to get the posture right. He has to shift his weight on his knees a little to be able to get his cheek pressed to the blanket, both arms stretched out. He's going to feel it in his shoulders, he's aware of that, but it's not more than he'll be able to take. He keeps his thighs pressed together, for now, until he's instructed otherwise. The kiss, the touches, their so gentle, and, already, his brain is going clean and blank.

Lee presses his palm to Connor's lower back, comforting and strong, thanking Connor for doing what he's been asking, praising him silently. He dips his head to press a kiss there as well, right on Connor's tailbone, but then he gets up, moving to the side of the bed. He loops one of the shoelaces around Connor's right wrist, tugging it carefully until it's close enough he can tie the cord to the headboard. He kisses Connor's wrist once he's done, moves to the other side of the bed and does the other the same way, tenderly and carefully, kissing him once he's done.

"If those start to hurt, please tell me," Lee instructs, and this is fully him using his usual tone of voice. He won't let Connor get hurt doing this.

If he knew nothing else about Lee - and, he reminds himself, he doesn't know much - those gentle, reassuring touches, the kisses to his skin, would tell him a lot. Connor's been in this situation before with people he instinctively trusts less; he knows he's going to be safe with Lee. He tests the bindings, tugging them lightly, flexing his fingers.

"Yes, Sir."

The way Connor calls him that sends another little shiver through Lee, and he knows Connor will tell him, that he doesn't have to worry about Connor letting it too until it doesn't feel good anymore. Going to his bedside table, Lee gets the lube and a condom, then climbs onto the bed behind Connor.

Connor looks amazing like this, bound to Lee's bed, bent and waiting. "Push your knees apart," Lee tells him, his voice still kind but directing him.

It's sort of clumsy, without his hands to settle him but Connor shuffles his knees apart so that his thighs are spread, his back arched, framing his balls and hard cock between them. He swallows, biting his lip.

"Like what you see?"

Lee has to close his eyes to the wave of arousal that crests over him when Connor opens himself, Lee able to see his genitals hanging there invitingly, his hole exposed.

"Yes," Lee breathes, swallowing hard. His instinct is to get his mouth on all of it, bite at Connor's ass and lick him all over, but he doesn't want to make Connor stay in this position too long, so he has to get to business. Popping the cap on the lube, he slicks the first two fingers of his right hand, then sets the tube aside. He rubs his fingertips over Connor's asshole in a little circle, loving how it feels when it clenches with his touch.

"Oh, fuck."

It's just a touch, teasing more than anything, but Connor squirms his hips back, rubbing his hole back against Lee's fingers, all but begging for more. His fingers clench and then relax.

"C'mon, Sir," he says, a plaintive note in his voice. "Open me up. I can take it."

Lee nearly laughs at Connor's words, because they're gorgeous and almost a little petulant and it makes Lee want to kiss him. He bites his lip against it, though, rubbing little circles for a moment more before he slides his index finger in to the hilt, twisting his wrist as he does it. He doesn't wait for Connor's body to relax, just starts to pump his finger inside smoothly, deep and solid.

Connor has had enough practice, taken enough cock in his life that Lee's finger doesn't come as too much of a surprise. Still, he groans, softly, immediately rocking his hips back, knees pressing into the bed for leverage.

Lee figures that Connor can take more pretty quickly, but he fucks Connor with one finger for a few more seconds, waiting until he feels just a fraction more relaxed to add a second one. The clench around him is a little tighter now, and it makes him moan, remembering how good it felt to be inside Connor before. He doesn't work for very long before he adds a third finger, the group of them sliding in and stretching Connor wide. Pushed deep, he rotates his hand, watching Connor's body take him, seeing the rim of his hold stretched around the base of Lee's fingers.

He loves it, being stretched like that, opened up. He pictures what he must look like from behind, hopes Lee's enjoying the show. He groans, louder this time, working his hips back rhythmically to push his ass onto Lee's fingers.

"Oh fuck, thank you," he whimpers under his breath as Lee's fingers graze his prostate and he sees stars.

Connor sounds utterly relieved, and Lee knows how that feels, to want to be fucked so badly that you'd do anything to get something inside you. He loves being fucked, loves fucking, just loves sex so much. And Connor does too, Lee can tell that. If Lee was younger and not actively in the process of dying he'd want to take Connor away somewhere and just fuck for two weeks straight.

He doesn't fuck Connor with his fingers for too much longer, pushing deep and stretching him, touching him in that just right spot from time to time just to hear him gasp. He pulls his fingers free slowly, watching Connor's body clench as he moves away, missing him, wanting to be full again. Lee won't make Connor wait.

The condom goes on quickly, as practiced as Lee is at this, and he sees Connor's body shaking in anticipation as he pops the cap on the tube of lube. He slicks himself up and tosses the tube aside, rising on his knees to bump the head of his dick against Connor's ass, pushing just enough that the tip pops inside, making both of them moan.

He feels obscenely exposed, kneeling like that with his ass in the air, lube smeared on his skin, his cock throbbing between his thighs. He can feel his hole twitching for the loss of Lee's fingers. His face burns with pleasure at the thought that Lee can see that. And then the head of Lee's cock slips inside him without any warning, and Connor groans, pressing his face into the sheets.

Connor's body tightens around Lee and he has to take a breath, centering himself as he slowly pushes himself inside, inch by inch, until he's buried. He likes fucking this way, from behind like this, and Connor looks so good with his arms tied, spread wide. He takes Connor's hips in his hands and begins to thrust, slowly and carefully at first, allowing Connor's body to get used to the length and girth of his cock again.

Lee's going slow with him at first, Connor feels that, and there's part of him that's entirely frustrated by that, who just wants to be fucked, wants to be pounded, wants to hurt tomorrow. They'll figure it out. He twists his wrists, wrapping his fingers around the laces he's bound with, holding on as he rolls his hips, fucking himself on Lee's cock.

Connor's not pulling on the cords, which is good, because Lee's still a little worried about friction burn on Connor's wrists. He's moving back into Lee now, and he wants more, that's very clear. His body is more than ready, so there's no reason to hold back anymore, and Lee's fingers dig more tightly into Connor's hips, pulling back as he thrusts forward, power behind the motion now. He's moving faster, bucking forward harder, the sound of their breathing and the slapping of their bodies echoing through the room.

"I love fucking your ass," he says, his voice rough and deep. "You're so hot and tight, Connor. You look so fucking good on your knees."

Lee is blessedly good at this, so Connor can just kneel there and take it, the thrust of Lee's cock, the grip of his hands on his hips. He bites his lip over a smirk at the compliment, every thrust knocking him forward onto his knees.

"Thank you, Sir," he says, still smirking.