Bound to This
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Title:  Bound to This
Author:  Phobosgirl
Rating:  PWP
Written:  02-08-06
Summary:  Completely pointless Brian and Justin PWP ficlet with a little kink thrown in, cos I'm just like that. This little tidbit started in my head with one line of dialogue that demanded to be captured in MSWord. The rest was just the porn delivery system designed to facilitate that one line. Can ya guess which one?


Bound To This

Brian's plane hadn't even been on the ground at La Guardia an hour before he had Justin bound, face-down, to his own bed in the clean but tiny niche Justin now called home.

Brian had seen the chocolate brown leather cuffs in his client's store two weeks ago and knew how perfectly they would compliment Justin's pale, slim wrists. He couldn't resist buying them, and having them in his nightstand drawer all this time had sent him to bed with a raging hard on every night for the last 14 days.

"Brian," Justin breathed into the pillow smushed under his head, "you didn't have to tie me down, I'm not going anywhere."

"Shut up, Sunshine," Brain's low growl in Justin's ear sent shivers racing across his shoulder blades and down his spine, "I'm seducing you."

Justin's throaty laugh was swallowed by his only financial indulgence in months- an expensive feather pillow that he'd bought because it had promised to be hypoallergenic. He fucking loved the pillow, but he wasn't thinking about that as he chewed into it. All he could focus on was Brian's palm as it stroked and patted his bottom.

The gentle pats soon wound their way across the tops of his thighs, the outsides of his hips and the very tender flesh between his legs, each swat firmer than the last. Justin's cock, pressed beneath him, would have begged for friction had it been able, but Justin, a warm sting rising in his flesh, didn't have attention enough to take notice. Brian's hands were too large, and fell too flatly, for him to care about anything beyond the next blow, and the next and the next.

Each time Brian's hand came down on his ass, Justin released an involuntary grunt that, to an uninformed observer, might have sounded like displeasure. Brian's hearing was finely tuned, however, to recognize the need beneath the pain, and as he slowly ramped up the intensity, Justin began to writhe, yanking on the cuffs keeping his upper body immobilized

His torment was the hottest thing Brian had experienced in months.

"Yeah, Justin, that's right, struggle."

His words, like too much water rushing suddenly against a weakened dam, unleashed from Justin a torrent of incoherent but earnest pleas that made Brian's rigid dick ache.

"Fuck, Sunshine," he groaned, "the begging's even better."

He didn't remember the moment he hauled Justin to his knees, Justin's arms stretched and straining around his confinement. Didn't clearly recollect slamming brutally into him. But when he brought Justin off with little more than a few rough pulls on his dick, and then came himself like molten lava into Justin's ass, a part of him marveled at the symmetry of being bound to Justin as absolutely and securely as Justin was tied to the bed beneath them.

He absorbed the thought as quickly as it occurred to him, because this connection was a fact of his life, now, and he didn't waste time or energy questioning it.

Justin begged Brian drowsily to let him sleep tied up for just a little while, promising before consciousness left him to not be a princess in the morning and complain about the inevitable ache in his shoulders. Brian complied, his fingers stroking the soft leather at Justin's wrists as he drifted off.

~fin~