Charlie and Arthur

…Charlie steps away to observe Arthur. His skin is flushed, a ruddy hue spreading down his neck and over his chest. His nipples are peaked, even in the heat of the room, and his cock is leaking where it strains toward his belly.

“I’m in the mood to indulge you, darling.”

Arthur closes his eyes and swallows thickly. “Can I release you?”

Charlie chuckles. “That could mean a lot of different things, pet.”

Arthur smiles, reaching out to finger the buckles again. “This. Can I let you out?”

Charlie hums his assent, tilting his hips forward in invitation. His own cock has taken an interest in the proceedings and is straining under the stricture of his skirt, unable to go anywhere. Arthur’s hands have steadied by the time he springs the first strap from its binding. The look of pure concentration on his face is making Charlie’s head spin. He’s always found it heady to have Arthur’s attention focused on him, but this is more than he’s ever dared hope for.

The second buckle opens and Charlie giggles, breathy and high-pitched. Arthur raises his head with an amused expression.

“Sorry.” Charlie schools his face into something he hopes looks serious, but Arthur’s smiling, sneaking his fingers into the gaping front of the leather.

“No, it’s good. Don’t hold anything back.”

“I’m not used to doing this with anyone present.” Charlie gasps a little at the pressure of Arthur’s fingers on the scoring left by the corset.

“We’re changing that.”

“We seem to be,” Charlie breathes and Arthur smiles, big enough to show off his dimples. Charlie brushes this thumb over them as the last buckles is released.

The leather clings to his back where his skin is warm and slick with sweat and Arthur spins him in place, pulling the corset off as he goes. For a moment Charlie is lightheaded again, feeling somehow giddy and solemn at the same time. Arthur steps away to lay the corset on the desk, carefully settling it away from anything sharp or potentially staining. It hits Charlie that Arthur is taking this seriously. He stumbled onto this part of Charlie that he keeps so carefully hidden, and Arthur’s paying it as much respect as he can. Somehow, Arthur took one look at Charlie in the midst of his surrender, and understood completely what it meant.

Charlie has only ever had people tolerate this part of him, so to have Arthur run his fingers, then his mouth so reverently over the red lines left behind by the corset, is dizzying. He should feel overwhelmed, he thinks, apprehensive, demure, something other than this yearning to turn himself over completely to the man currently on his knees and fluttering kisses over the indents from the buckles.

“Take off my skirt,” Charlie says, voice gone breathy.

Arthur peers up at him from his place on his knees, eyes dark and serious. He slides his hands up Charlie’s thighs and over his hips to the zipper at his back. Charlie doesn’t hear the sound of the zipper over his own panting, but he know the exact moment it’s all the way down because his circulation returns at full force and his cock fills so fast it hurts. He groans at the sudden pressure and Arthur eases the skirt down his legs.

“God, Charlie.” Arthur says, rubbing his cheek against the lace at Charlie’s hip.

“Careful, I’m close already,” Charlie warns, not wanting this to end so soon.

Arthur growls and sinks his teeth into the skin above Charlie’s panties.

“Fuck, Arthur.”

Arthur grins up at him, one hand behind Charlie’s knee to help him step out of the skirt. Once it’s off, Arthur folds it carefully and leans to the side to place it on one of the large armchairs.

“What now?”

Charlie licks his lips, trying to decide. Feeding Arthur his cock has serious appeal, but there’s something in the way Arthur has adopted this care taking role that draws him and he’s eager to explore that further.

“Sit.” Charlie nods his chin to the other chair, overstuffed and ostentatious as it is. A not-so-small part of Charlie likes the idea of ruining it.

Arthur collapses into the chair, legs spread wide, eyes hungry. Charlie moves to straddle him, aborting the idea at the last second and lurching into him awkwardly.

“Sorry.” He mumbles, face flaming. Arthur shakes his head, running his hand up Charlie’s arm in a soothing gesture. Charlie presses Arthur’s legs closer together and turns around. He settles lightly in Arthur’s lap, bracing himself on the arms of the chair, aware of how heavy he is compared to the other man.

Arthur huffs, knocking Charlie’s arms away and pulling him in firmly.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Arthur says against his neck. “I want to feel you.”

Charlie wiggles a little, delighting in the feel of Arthur’s cock against his ass. “Yes, dear.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.”

Charlie stills.

“You being obedient.” Arthur clarifies, hand trailing over Charlie’s chest.

Charlie relaxes. “Don’t expect it to happen often.”

Arthur chuckles, nipping at Charlie’s neck. “Of course not.”

Charlie leans his head back until it’s laying on Arthur’s shoulder, the other man’s hands still exploring the skin spread out over him. He scratches lightly over Charlie’s’ nipples and Charlie’s hands scrabbled at the armrests again. The scratching moves lower, blunt nails trailing past his navel and over the lace of his panties.

“Theses are gorgeous,” Arthur tells him. “You look unbelievable.”

Charlie shudders as Arthur’s hands roam his inner thighs.

“Can I touch you?” Arthur asks, pressing a wet kiss behind Charlie’s ear.

“ Please, ” Charlie keens.

Arthur palms him lightly through his panties and Charlie stops breathing.

“Relax, I’ve got you.” Arthur soothes, his touch growing firmer.

“I’m not going to last long, pet.” Charlie is already arching toward Arthur’s hand, trying to increase the friction.

“That’s fine.”

“Arthur,” Charlie hates the whine in his voice, but it makes Arthur’s cock pulse where it’s trapped between them. “I need-”

“Yes, okay, yes,” Arthur says, voice dropping an octave and he reaches into Charlie’s panties to free his cock. “Do you want, should we take these off?”

“No,” Charlie gasps, squeezing his eyes shut as Arthur’s hand finally wraps around him. “Just, God, keep going.”

“Yeah,” Arthur growls, stroking firmly. His other arm is wrapped around Charlie’s chest like a vise, pinning him down.

Charlie’s balls are tightening and he’s going to come embarrassingly soon, but he’s beyond caring because he’s pumping into Arthur’s fist, and grinding back against his cock, and he’s never felt so exposed and revered in all his life…

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