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rsadellePart 1, Part 2
Brandon doesn't really have plans for the evening, everyone too tired from too many days on the road to come up with anything more concrete than maybe getting dinner at a restaurant down the block. When there's a knock on his door, Brandon expects it to be someone organizing an actual trip for dinner. Instead it's Shawsy, in sweats and a hoodie with the hood drawn all the way up over his head.
Brandon raises his eyebrows and lets Shawsy in.
"I think I'm crashing," Shawsy grumbles after the door swings shut behind him.
Brandon blinks. "Huh."
"Yeah," Shawsy says with a scowl.
"That wasn't even really a scene."
"I know." Shawsy pushes past Brandon and climbs into his bed.
"Make yourself at home," Brandon says dryly.
"Would you just get over here and cuddle me? I feel like I did something wrong."
Brandon drops the teasing. "Hey, no, you didn't do anything wrong." He gets into bed with Shawsy and pulls him into his arms. "You did everything right." He presses a kiss to the top of Shawsy's head. "You were really, really good."
Shawsy presses his face into Brandon's chest. "Even though you didn't come when I was fucking you?"
"Babe, I've never come from being fucked." Brandon strokes Shawsy's back. "That has nothing to do with how you did. You did a really good job fucking me, and sucking me off after. Really good."
"Promise?" Shawsy's voice comes out small and muffled in Brandon's shirt.
"I promise," Brandon says. "You're always so good for me. Even when you're fighting me it's great. I love playing with you." Brandon tugs the blankets up higher, so they're all the way around Shawsy's shoulders. "What do you need right now?"
Shawsy stops huddling enough to wrap one arm around Brandon. "This is good. I like it when you cuddle me and tell me I'm doing good."
Brandon kisses the top of his head. "Okay, babe. You're doing great, and I've got you."
*
Shawsy shows up full of attitude, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with aggression.
Brandon takes one look at him and tosses him the small bottle of lube from his pocket, trusting Shawsy to catch it. "Go into the bathroom and get yourself slicked and stretched."
Shawsy sets his feet and crosses his arms over his chest. "Why should I?"
"Because I don't want to have to stop and do it later," Brandon says. "Go."
Shawsy stays put for another few seconds. Brandon waits it out. Either he'll go or he won't and Brandon can redirect how this is going to go.
Shawsy goes, but he stomps around Brandon and to the bathroom. His bare feet make it less effective than it might be. Brandon doesn't laugh, and he doesn't turn to watch.
Brandon settles himself onto the couch to wait, not distracting himself with anything, but just breathing and getting himself into the right headspace for Shawsy's mood.
The sound of Shawsy wrenching open the bedroom door is very loud. "Now what do you want?" Shawsy bites out.
Brandon stands up, settled into himself, steady and easy on his feet. "I want you to stop being such a little shit."
Shawsy's mouth twists, and he pushes back when Brandon gets into his space.
Brandon takes him down. It's not easy, and Shawsy fights him all the way. Even when Brandon has him face down on the bed, both of Shawsy's hands twisted behind his back, Shawsy still pushes against him, trying to twist out of Brandon's grip.
"Stop that," Brandon says. He smacks Shawsy's ass, the sound of it dulled because Shawsy put his clothes back on after he got himself ready.
"Fuck you," Shawsy spits, and he keeps twisting, keeps pushing back, trying to throw Brandon off of him. He's not quite putting enough force behind it to make that happen, and he hasn't used his safeword.
Brandon shoves Shawsy's face into the pillows. "The only thing getting fucked here is you." He keeps holding Shawsy down with one arm while he reaches under him with the other. He gets Shawsy's jeans open, despite the way Shawsy struggles against him the whole time.
"Don't, fuck," Shawsy snarls at him.
Brandon slaps his hip. "Don't pretend you don't want this." He tugs Shawsy's jeans and underwear down, one side then the other, without trying to be careful, and grins sharply at Shawsy's yelp when they catch over his cock.
Brandon's pants are easier, just has to get them open enough to get his cock out.
Shawsy keeps swearing at him, a constant stream of, "Fuck you, you asshole. Get the fuck off of me."
Brandon pays attention to the tone, in case it turns into a real objection, and ignores the content.
He swipes one finger over Shawsy's hole to make sure he actually did what he was told and opened himself up.
Shawsy goes still for a few seconds, long enough for Brandon to grab the condom out of his pocket and roll it on before he needs both hands to hold Shawsy down again.
It takes a minute to subdue Shawsy enough that Brandon can keep him down with one hand. When that happens, Brandon uses his free hand to guide his cock into Shawsy.
"No," Shawsy says. "No, fuck, I don't want-"
Brandon bends over him, gets his mouth right behind Shawsy's ear, and says, "Yes, you do." He pulls back to get better leverage and thrusts all the way into Shawsy.
Brandon matches Shawsy's low drone of protests with his own litany of filth. "I know you want this. This is what you wanted when you came over, to get fucked hard." Brandon presses Shawsy down into the bed. "And you don't have any choice anyway."
Shawsy keeps struggling under him, saying, "No," and, "You asshole." His words are getting more ragged, breaking off in the middle. One of them breaks on a sob, and then Shawsy stops fighting, slumps down onto the bed. The fight goes out of him and Brandon doesn't have to work on keeping him down.
Shawsy hasn't safeworded, and when Brandon uses his newly freed hand to reach under Shawsy and check, he's still hard. Brandon grips both of Shawsy's hips, pulling them up to a better angle, and fucks hard into him.
Shawsy still mumbles out the occasional, "No," but mostly he just keeps his face in the pillows and cries while Brandon fucks him.
Subduing a Shawsy who fought so hard, getting him to go down and submit, makes Brandon feel better, stronger, more powerful than pretty much anything else he can think of. He reaches under Shawsy and jerks him off, sharp pulls on his cock that don't quite match up with the rhythm of Brandon's thrusts.
Shawsy shouts when he comes, the sound breaking off in the middle into a sob.
Brandon lets go of his cock, gets both his hands on Shawsy's hips, and fucks into him hard and fast. He needs to come right fucking now, isn't sure how he's lasted this long, and he listens to Shawsy sobbing into the pillows while he gets in the last few thrusts that get him there.
Brandon pulls out of Shawsy and slumps onto the bed next to him. He drops the condom into the trash can next to the bed and pulls Shawsy over to lie half on him, Shawsy's face in his shirt. They never even got their clothes all the way off.
"There you go, babe," Brandon says. He wraps his arms around Shawsy and rubs up and down his back. He keeps murmuring soothing, meaningless things while Shawsy cries himself out and then drops straight into sleep.
Shawsy wakes up later, and Brandon gets them both into a shower, heats up food and makes sure they rehydrate, and changes the sheets before they drop back into bed.
*
Brandon wakes up in the morning because Shawsy's already awake and digging his chin into Brandon's shoulder.
"Hey." Brandon rubs his hands up and down Shawsy's back. "How do you feel?"
"Great," Shawsy says, and he looks like he means it, smiling and eyes bright. "Can I blow you?"
Brandon blinks at him, half hard and not quite awake. "Yes?" He blinks again. "Yeah, you can do that."
"Awesome." Shawsy pushes the blankets away as he moves down the bed. He smiles up at Brandon, simple and easy, before he goes down on him.
It's a slow, leisurely blowjob. Shawsy licks and sucks and seems to be enjoying it. Brandon certainly is, and he rests his hand on the back of Shawsy's head, pets his hair a little.
"That's good, babe," he says, and Shawsy smiles up at him, sucks harder for a second before he goes back to a slower pace.
Brandon isn't in any hurry to get to the end of the blowjob, so he lets Shawsy set the pace, and doesn't interfere until the slow build gets to the point that he's about to come. He warns Shawsy, and Shawsy looks up at him, eyes dark under his lashes, and doesn't move.
Brandon comes with Shawsy's eyes meeting his, Shawsy's mouth on his cock, Shawsy's hand on his thigh.
Shawsy swallows, licks his lips, and kneels up next to Brandon. "I'm going to jerk off now."
Brandon pats his thigh. "You want me to do it for you?"
"No," Shawsy says. "I'm good."
Brandon watches anyway, giving Shawsy someone to show off for and appreciating the view.
Shawsy gets himself off, leans over Brandon to get tissues from the nightstand to wipe the come off his hands, and then bends down to kiss Brandon, gross with come and morning breath but good anyway.
"That was awesome," Shawsy says brightly. Then he swats Brandon's hip on his way out of bed. "You're going to make me breakfast now, right?"
Brandon watches him go - a nice view, even if he was expecting Shawsy to want to cuddle - and then sits up and gets out of bed. "Yeah, babe, I'll make you breakfast now."
*
Brandon slumps onto his couch. It wasn't that hard a practice. He shouldn't be this tired. He unlocks his phone, and then locks it again and tosses it down on the coffee table. He doesn't feel like talking to anyone, and nothing he has on there to distract him sounds good either.
It's been a while, which is why it takes him some time to realize that he's not just having a bad day for no reason. He picks up his phone, hovers over Shawsy's number for a minute, and then scrolls up and calls Katy instead.
"Hey," she says when she picks up after two rings. "What's up?" He doesn't usually call during the day.
"I'm- Fuck."
"Brandon," she says, sharper with it than with her greeting.
Brandon closes his eyes and leans against the back of the couch. "I'm dropping."
Katy lets out a breath. "Okay. What happened?"
"I was playing with Andy." Brandon has to swallow against all the things crowding into his throat. "It was intense, because he was in a mood and we like to fight it out." He can still feel how good that felt, the memory of it fighting against a wash of shame. "It turned into a rape fantasy."
"Did he safeword?" Katy asks.
"No."
"How was he afterwards?"
"He blew me in the morning," Brandon says. "His idea."
"That's good," Katy says, gentle like he's heard her be with Anna. "That sounds like he was okay. But you went to a dark place."
"Yeah," Brandon says. "Yeah."
"Look," Katy says, "I have a client meeting in five minutes, and then I have to be in court. Anna's teaching and she has office hours today."
Brandon squeezes his eyes shut even tighter. "I know. I know you're busy. I just needed to talk to someone."
Katy's quiet for a beat, and then she says, "I think you should talk to Andy. You know having him tell you it worked for him will make you feel better, and he seems like he can handle it."
Brandon takes a suddenly shaky breath.
"He knows you," Katy says gently. "He knows you're more than just a dom with all the answers. It's not going to shatter his illusions."
"Okay," Brandon says. "Yeah."
"If it doesn't help," Katy says, "and there isn't anyone you want to ask, call me back, and we'll figure something out."
"Yeah," Brandon says. "Thanks, Katy."
"Any time," Katy says so warmly that Brandon knows she means it.
It takes Brandon a few minutes before he can pull up Shawsy's name and call him. He needs to breathe, to let his rational mind take over and insist that Shawsy is fine, that Brandon didn't hurt him.
"Can you come over?" Brandon asks when Shawsy answers.
"Ledds and I were going to go hang out with Saader," Shawsy says.
Brandon closes his eyes, grits his teeth, and then exhales and says, "I'm crashing. Can you come over?"
"Oh," Shawsy says after a beat, "yeah, I can come over. Should I bring anything?"
"No," Brandon says. "Just you."
"Okay, yeah. I'm leaving right now."
"Thank you." Brandon hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the coffee table. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, face resting in his hands, and forces himself to breathe deeply.
Brandon doesn't get up from the couch until Shawsy knocks on his door and he has to go unlock it to let him in.
"Hey," Shawsy says.
"Hi." Brandon lets him in and closes the door behind him.
"How come you're crashing?" Shawsy asks. "Last time was intense, but," he shrugs, "not, like, too intense or anything."
Brandon stares at him. "Andrew," he says, "that was a rape fantasy."
Shawsy opens his mouth, closes it. "Huh," he says after a moment. "I guess it was."
"You guess?" Brandon lets out a sharp laugh. "I held you down and fucked you while you said no."
"Yeah," Shawsy says, "but that's what I wanted. I was spoiling for a fight, and I wanted you to give me one I couldn't win."
"I could've hurt you," Brandon says. "I wanted to hurt you."
Shawsy steps forward and puts his hand on Brandon's shoulder. "You didn't. You wouldn't. I could have safeworded if I wanted out."
The touch is comforting, but Brandon's not sure Shawsy gets the point he's making. "You cried."
"Yeah," Shawsy says. "And I felt great later, like I got to release all the crap inside me." He puts his other hand on Brandon's other shoulder. "Brandon, do you really think I would have cried like that if I didn't feel safe? I felt totally safe. I always feel safe with you."
Brandon hooks one hand around Shawsy's forearm. "I could hurt you."
"Maybe," Shawsy says sounding absolutely certain about it, "but you won't. That time I used my safeword, you were already stopping before I said it."
Brandon closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Shawsy's. That's true, he was stopping, and the fact that Shawsy remembers it cuts through Brandon's self-recriminations.
Shawsy moves one of his hands from Brandon's shoulder to the back of his head, rubs his fingers over his scalp. "I like cuddling when I'm crashing," he says. "Is that what you want?"
Brandon smiles a little, at the offer and at how well Shawsy has learned to negotiate with him. "Yeah, babe," he says. "Come cuddle with me." Later he'll want to take care of Shawsy, just the way he does when Shawsy is crashing, to reaffirm to himself that he's a good dom, but cuddling is a good start.
*
[Either something would happen here or there would be a better transition into the next scene.]
*
Brandon answers the knock on his door and lets Shawsy in. "Hey," he says. "What's up?"
"Nothing," Shawsy says. "I just wanted to see you."
"You saw me two hours ago," Brandon says with a smile.
"I know," Shawsy says. "I wanted to see you again." He pushes his way right into Brandon's space and kisses him.
Brandon wraps his arms around Shawsy and keeps smiling into the kiss. "See me, huh?"
Shawsy grins. "See, make out with, whatever."
Brandon laughs. "Come on. We don't have to stay in the entryway."
Shawsy follows easily as Brandon pulls him to the couch, and then he pushes Brandon to sit down and straddles his lap.
Brandon has to look at up him when he warns, "You're too heavy to do this for very long."
"So we'll move in a while," Shawsy says. "I want this."
Brandon chuckles. "Pushy."
Shawsy grins at him unrepentantly. "Yep." He dips his head and kisses Brandon.
Brandon lets Shawsy be in charge of the kiss for a minute, getting a feel for what he wants, before he slides one hand up the back of Shawsy's shirt, settles the other on the back of Shawsy's head, and takes over.
Shawsy makes a noise into his mouth, a slight, pleased sound, and settles right into where Brandon wants him.
Brandon keeps it slow and easy, the way Shawsy started it, more focused on the enjoyment of making out than anything else. Shawsy sighs into it, makes pleased little mmms, smiles every time Brandon pulls back to let them both breathe.
When Brandon's legs are starting to go numb, he nudges Shawsy back. "Stand up."
"What? Why?"
Brandon taps Shawsy's hip. "Change of position. Up."
Shawsy's slight pout melts into an amused smile when Brandon also stands and then tips Shawsy down onto his back on the couch. Brandon lies down over him, legs slotted together, Brandon's arms on the couch on either side of Shawsy so he's not putting all his weight directly on him.
"And you said I was pushy," Shawsy says.
Brandon says, "You knew what you were getting into with me," and licks slowly into Shawsy's mouth.
Shawsy's hands make their way up the back of Brandon's shirt this time. It's just as slow and easy, but this time Brandon can feel Shawsy getting hard under him. Despite that, neither one of them pushes for more than the making out they started with.
Brandon's lips feel raw and oversensitive when Shawsy's stomach growls. Brandon pulls back to smile down at him.
"Don't stop," Shawsy protests.
Brandon rubs his cheek against Shawsy's. "Come help me make dinner. I'll make out with you again later."
"Promise?" Shawsy asks.
"Promise." Brandon smiles down at him, so fond of Shawsy that he's tempted to make out with him again now. He settles for one soft, deep kiss before he pushes himself off of Shawsy and stands up.
Shawsy looks good sprawled out on Brandon's couch, lips red, slight beard burn on his jaw, legs spread a little where Brandon was. He looks good standing up too, hair a mess and slight bulge of his jeans over his cock.
Brandon runs a hand over Shawsy's hair, smoothing it down a little, and takes him into the kitchen.
Making dinner together involves a lot more touching than is strictly necessary. Shawsy brushes up against Brandon every time they're in the same space, and Brandon presses up against Shawsy's back every time he needs to reach something past him.
They take their plates to the couch instead of sitting at the table. Shawsy sits down right next to Brandon and slings his leg over Brandon's.
"Pushy," Brandon says lightly.
Shawsy smirks at him. "You knew what you were getting into with me."
Brandon laughs and pats Shawsy's thigh. "I guess I did."
When they're done eating, Shawsy puts both of their plates on the coffee table and pushes Brandon back until he's lying on the couch. Shawsy stretches out on top of him, and Brandon grins up at him until Shawsy kisses him and he's too busy kissing back to keep smiling.
Brandon gets his hands up Shawsy's shirt, then pushes one of them down, teasing at the waistband of Shawsy's jeans. Shawsy groans, rubbing his dick down against Brandon.
Brandon nips at Shawsy's lip. "You want to do something more than make out?"
"Yes," Shawsy says.
Brandon grins at his eagerness and pushes Shawsy back enough for Brandon to unbutton his jeans. He gets Shawsy's cock out and wraps his hand loosely around it.
Shawsy lets out a soft moan and folds over to kiss Brandon while keeping enough space between them for Brandon to jerk him off.
Shawsy's cock is familiar to him now, and Brandon knows how to build it up slowly, like the natural progression from how they've been kissing. They don't stop kissing, Shawsy seeming to want that as much as he wants Brandon's hand on him.
Brandon wants that. Brandon wants that with a soft, steady force that makes him hook his free arm around Shawsy's shoulders and keep him close while he licks into Shawsy's mouth.
"Brandon," Shawsy moans when Brandon tightens his grip on Shawsy's cock, strokes him a little harder.
"Yeah," Brandon says, suddenly breathless with how much he wants to make Shawsy come, like he's never gotten to do it before. "Yeah, come on, babe." He jerks Shawsy just how he knows he likes it, triumph unfolding in him when it makes Shawsy gasp and throw his head back.
Brandon watches Shawsy's face as he comes, dragging Shawsy in to kiss him as soon as Shawsy seems like he can manage it.
Shawsy kisses him for a minute, and then he pulls away and stretches to get one of the napkins from dinner off the coffee table.
Brandon takes the napkin from him and wipes his hand mostly clean, swipes roughly at Shawsy's stomach and gently at Shawsy's cock.
Shawsy smiles at him the whole time, and leans in to kiss Brandon when he's done. Shawsy pulls back and takes the napkin from Brandon, drops it on top of one of the plates on the coffee table. "I'm going to blow you now," he announces, and then he scoots down the couch, kneeling over Brandon, and gets Brandon's cock out.
Brandon makes sure it's the hand Shawsy didn't just come all over that he uses to cup the back of Shawsy's head when he goes down on him. Shawsy has enough practice doing this to make it good for Brandon, mouth sealed around him, lips and tongue working in just the right way.
Brandon gasps out, "Andy," and bites back the rest of the words he wants to say because even in the moment he has enough awareness to know that telling Shawsy he loves him isn't something he wants to say without thinking through the consequences a little more.
Shawsy looks up at him, eyes bright and crinkling with the hint of a smile.
Brandon smoothes down Shawsy's hair and smiles back at him, is still smiling when Shawsy's mouth draws his orgasm out of him.
Shawsy swallows most of it, grabs for a napkin to clean up the rest, and comes up to kiss Brandon.
Brandon smiles into that too, tasting himself in Shawsy's mouth and enjoying the way Shawsy's body fits against his. They make out slow and lazy until Shawsy puts his head down on Brandon's shoulder, and then they both doze for a while.
"Hey," Brandon says, softly nudging Shawsy awake when his body reminds him that he's a little too old to be sleeping on a couch with a heavy body pinning him down, "are you staying?"
"Mmm." Shawsy rubs his cheek against Brandon's shoulder. "Yeah, if that's okay."
Brandon brushes his hand over Shawsy's hair. "Yeah, babe, that's okay, but let's move to the bed."
Shawsy rolls off of Brandon onto his knees on the floor, which is almost enough to make Brandon drag him back on top of him. Shawsy catches him looking and smirks at him before he stands up and stretches.
Brandon watches that, too, before he gets off the couch and stretches out the worst of the couch-induced kinks in his back. He can feel Shawsy's eyes on him, and he grins at him when he comes out of his stretch.
Shawsy laughs a little and picks up their plates off the coffee table.
Brandon follows him into the kitchen and crowds him against the sink. He kisses the side of Shawsy's neck, hands on the edge of the sink on either side of Shawsy. "Leave those."
Shawsy tilts his head to let Brandon at his neck, but he also says, "It'll only take a few minutes to wash them."
Brandon chuckles. "I guess I knew what I was getting into with you," he says as he steps to the side.
Shawsy smiles at him. "Yep." He washes and passes plates to Brandon to rinse and put in the drying rack.
When they're done, Brandon hooks his fingers in the waistband of Shawsy's jeans and tugs him closer. "Are you done cleaning my house?"
Shawsy grins at him. "When was the last time you vacuumed?"
Brandon laughs, delighted with the way Shawsy plays along. "Come to bed." He tugs at Shawsy's waistband for emphasis.
Shawsy goes along with him. "Is your bed made?" he asks, laughter in his voice. "I don't know if I can spend the night with someone who doesn't make their bed."
Brandon laughs and changes tactics, pushing Shawsy into his bedroom. "You'd stay even if I didn't."
"No I wouldn't."
"Yes you would." Brandon puts his arms around Shawsy and pulls him tight against his chest. "You would," he murmurs into Shawsy's ear.
"Maybe."
Brandon can see the curve of Shawsy's cheek as he smiles. "You would." He smacks a kiss against Shawsy's cheek, and then lets go of him.
Shawsy's been over enough to already have his own toothbrush in Brandon's medicine cabinet, and Brandon tosses him a pair of drawstring pajama pants that he can cinch tight enough not to fall off his hips. Shawsy also helps himself to one of Brandon's old St. Lawrence t-shirts before he crawls into Brandon's bed.
Shawsy makes himself comfortable, and then looks at Brandon, still standing by the closet watching him. "Come cuddle with me," Shawsy demands.
Brandon's helpless to do anything but turn out the light and get into bed to cuddle with Shawsy. "Anything you want, babe."
*
Brandon meets Katy for a drink at a lawyer bar, one where people are used to not overhearing conversations around them and no one will be too intrusive even if they do recognize Brandon.
"Do I need to get payment from you so this is covered by privilege?" Katy asks when they've been there for ten minutes and Brandon still hasn't said anything that merits the in-person conversation.
"No," Brandon says. Then he sighs. "I made a fucking rookie mistake."
Katy raises her eyebrows. "There are a lot of those," she says calmly. "Which one do you mean?"
Brandon twists his beer bottle in his hands. "Fell in love with my sub."
"Huh," Katy says.
"You don't seem surprised."
Katy lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "Not really. I mean, you were friends already, you obviously like playing together. That kind of intimacy, it was always a possibility." She sips her drink. "Are you going to talk to him about it?"
That is the question. Brandon gulps at his beer. "I told him we could talk about it if either of us wanted to start dating." He twists his beer bottle in his hands again. "It could be a disaster."
Katy pats his hand. "It's not going to be a disaster. Even if he doesn't want to date you, you'll be able to be friends with him. And you never know. I fell in love with my sub, and look how that worked out. You and yours are probably just as well matched as we are."
Brandon takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "I know," he says. "It could be fine, and I have to talk to him about it, not just drag you into it."
Katy squeezes his hand. "Even the toughest doms need support."
Brandon lifts her hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. "Too bad I couldn't just fall in love with you and Anna."
Katy laughs. "You'd get bored," she says. "You need someone who pushes back more than Anna likes to."
*
Brandon goes over to Shawsy's when he knows Leddy is going to be out. He thought about inviting Shawsy over to his place, or trying to find safe neutral territory to meet in, but if Shawsy doesn't want what Brandon wants, he thinks it'll be easier on him if he can leave and leave Shawsy in his own space.
Shawsy opens his door with a bright smile and kisses Brandon once he's inside.
Brandon smiles into the kiss and nudges Shawsy toward the couch. "I came to talk to you," he says.
"Talk, huh?" Shawsy says with a grin.
Brandon shakes his head, unable to keep from smiling while he does. "Serious talk," he says. "Negotiation talk."
"Oh," Shawsy says, dropping the grin. Not that he looks unhappy, but he's taking it seriously. He sits down on one end of the couch, letting Brandon choose how much space to put between them.
Brandon appreciates it, and he sits close but not too close. "I want to ask you about something," he says. "And you can say no. We'll still be friends and we can still play if you do, although we might need to take a break for a little bit."
Shawsy blinks at him. "You're making me nervous."
"I'm making myself nervous," Brandon says. He takes in a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "When we first started doing this, I told you we would talk about it if things changed. I want to date you. Outside of what we do when we play. If you want."
"Yes," Shawsy says, and half the nervousness Brandon was feeling drops away at the word. "I mean, we're already kind of doing that anyway, right?"
"Kind of," Brandon says. "But we didn't talk about it."
Shawsy smiles at him. "And we have to do that, got it."
That eases most of the rest of the tension Brandon was feeling. "Yep."
"So what's going to be different?" Shawsy asks.
"Well," Brandon says, "I'm going to encourage you to come over just to make out with me more often. And I'll probably tell you how I feel about you, not just about you being good when we play."
Shawsy's eyes get wide.
"You don't have to say it back," Brandon says. "You don't have to say anything."
Shawsy nods, and he scoots closer to Brandon. "If we're really doing this, I want us to be exclusive," Shawsy says. "I haven't been hooking up with other people anyway, but," he shrugs, "I don't want you doing it either."
Brandon reaches out for Shawsy's hand and laces their fingers together. "You've gotten good at this negotiation thing," he says. "I won't hook up or play with anyone else either."
Shawsy beams at him, and then drops into seriousness again. "Unless we're both there and we both want it."
Brandon grins and pulls Shawsy over and onto his lap. "Oh yeah? You got some ideas about that, babe?"
Shawsy loops his arms around Brandon's shoulders. "I want to watch you play with someone else," he says. "A guy. Like we do."
"Just watch?" Brandon asks.
Shawsy nods. "I want to watch you do your thing. When we play, I'm in it and I can't just watch how good you are." He shrugs. "People watch you play hockey, and I want to watch you do the other thing you're really good at."
Brandon curves his hand over the back of Shawsy's head and draws him in for a kiss. Shawsy stays close when Brandon stops kissing him, their foreheads pressed together.
"Okay," Brandon says. "I'll set it up." He rubs his thumb behind Shawsy's ear. "Anything else we need to talk about?"
Shawsy shifts on his lap and grins at him. "What we're going to do to celebrate."
Brandon chuckles and grabs Shawsy's ass with both hands. "What makes you think you get a say in that?"
Shawsy laughs, leaning back into Brandon's grip. "Bossy." Then his smile slides down into a smirk. "Take me now."
Brandon laughs, moving one hand up Shawsy's back to pull him in close. "Is that permission to do whatever I want?"
Shawsy groans. "Yeah. Yes, please."
Brandon keeps one hand tight against Shawsy's ass while he uses the other to keep him close enough to kiss. "Andy," he says, lips running along the line of Shawsy's jaw, "babe." He pauses with his lips against the shell of Shawsy's ear. Maybe he should wait, but then he just told Shawsy he was going to tell him this kind of thing, and he doesn't want to wait any longer. "I love you."
Shawsy gasps, and shudders, and yanks at Brandon's hair until he's in the right place for Shawsy to kiss him, deep and hard, greedy. "Love you," Shawsy mutters against his lips. He grinds down into Brandon's lap, dick hard between them. "Please."
There's no way Brandon can keep from smiling after that, so he doesn't even try, just presses that smile against Shawsy's lips, his cheek. "Yeah, babe," he promises. "This is going to be great."
Brandon doesn't really have plans for the evening, everyone too tired from too many days on the road to come up with anything more concrete than maybe getting dinner at a restaurant down the block. When there's a knock on his door, Brandon expects it to be someone organizing an actual trip for dinner. Instead it's Shawsy, in sweats and a hoodie with the hood drawn all the way up over his head.
Brandon raises his eyebrows and lets Shawsy in.
"I think I'm crashing," Shawsy grumbles after the door swings shut behind him.
Brandon blinks. "Huh."
"Yeah," Shawsy says with a scowl.
"That wasn't even really a scene."
"I know." Shawsy pushes past Brandon and climbs into his bed.
"Make yourself at home," Brandon says dryly.
"Would you just get over here and cuddle me? I feel like I did something wrong."
Brandon drops the teasing. "Hey, no, you didn't do anything wrong." He gets into bed with Shawsy and pulls him into his arms. "You did everything right." He presses a kiss to the top of Shawsy's head. "You were really, really good."
Shawsy presses his face into Brandon's chest. "Even though you didn't come when I was fucking you?"
"Babe, I've never come from being fucked." Brandon strokes Shawsy's back. "That has nothing to do with how you did. You did a really good job fucking me, and sucking me off after. Really good."
"Promise?" Shawsy's voice comes out small and muffled in Brandon's shirt.
"I promise," Brandon says. "You're always so good for me. Even when you're fighting me it's great. I love playing with you." Brandon tugs the blankets up higher, so they're all the way around Shawsy's shoulders. "What do you need right now?"
Shawsy stops huddling enough to wrap one arm around Brandon. "This is good. I like it when you cuddle me and tell me I'm doing good."
Brandon kisses the top of his head. "Okay, babe. You're doing great, and I've got you."
*
Shawsy shows up full of attitude, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet with aggression.
Brandon takes one look at him and tosses him the small bottle of lube from his pocket, trusting Shawsy to catch it. "Go into the bathroom and get yourself slicked and stretched."
Shawsy sets his feet and crosses his arms over his chest. "Why should I?"
"Because I don't want to have to stop and do it later," Brandon says. "Go."
Shawsy stays put for another few seconds. Brandon waits it out. Either he'll go or he won't and Brandon can redirect how this is going to go.
Shawsy goes, but he stomps around Brandon and to the bathroom. His bare feet make it less effective than it might be. Brandon doesn't laugh, and he doesn't turn to watch.
Brandon settles himself onto the couch to wait, not distracting himself with anything, but just breathing and getting himself into the right headspace for Shawsy's mood.
The sound of Shawsy wrenching open the bedroom door is very loud. "Now what do you want?" Shawsy bites out.
Brandon stands up, settled into himself, steady and easy on his feet. "I want you to stop being such a little shit."
Shawsy's mouth twists, and he pushes back when Brandon gets into his space.
Brandon takes him down. It's not easy, and Shawsy fights him all the way. Even when Brandon has him face down on the bed, both of Shawsy's hands twisted behind his back, Shawsy still pushes against him, trying to twist out of Brandon's grip.
"Stop that," Brandon says. He smacks Shawsy's ass, the sound of it dulled because Shawsy put his clothes back on after he got himself ready.
"Fuck you," Shawsy spits, and he keeps twisting, keeps pushing back, trying to throw Brandon off of him. He's not quite putting enough force behind it to make that happen, and he hasn't used his safeword.
Brandon shoves Shawsy's face into the pillows. "The only thing getting fucked here is you." He keeps holding Shawsy down with one arm while he reaches under him with the other. He gets Shawsy's jeans open, despite the way Shawsy struggles against him the whole time.
"Don't, fuck," Shawsy snarls at him.
Brandon slaps his hip. "Don't pretend you don't want this." He tugs Shawsy's jeans and underwear down, one side then the other, without trying to be careful, and grins sharply at Shawsy's yelp when they catch over his cock.
Brandon's pants are easier, just has to get them open enough to get his cock out.
Shawsy keeps swearing at him, a constant stream of, "Fuck you, you asshole. Get the fuck off of me."
Brandon pays attention to the tone, in case it turns into a real objection, and ignores the content.
He swipes one finger over Shawsy's hole to make sure he actually did what he was told and opened himself up.
Shawsy goes still for a few seconds, long enough for Brandon to grab the condom out of his pocket and roll it on before he needs both hands to hold Shawsy down again.
It takes a minute to subdue Shawsy enough that Brandon can keep him down with one hand. When that happens, Brandon uses his free hand to guide his cock into Shawsy.
"No," Shawsy says. "No, fuck, I don't want-"
Brandon bends over him, gets his mouth right behind Shawsy's ear, and says, "Yes, you do." He pulls back to get better leverage and thrusts all the way into Shawsy.
Brandon matches Shawsy's low drone of protests with his own litany of filth. "I know you want this. This is what you wanted when you came over, to get fucked hard." Brandon presses Shawsy down into the bed. "And you don't have any choice anyway."
Shawsy keeps struggling under him, saying, "No," and, "You asshole." His words are getting more ragged, breaking off in the middle. One of them breaks on a sob, and then Shawsy stops fighting, slumps down onto the bed. The fight goes out of him and Brandon doesn't have to work on keeping him down.
Shawsy hasn't safeworded, and when Brandon uses his newly freed hand to reach under Shawsy and check, he's still hard. Brandon grips both of Shawsy's hips, pulling them up to a better angle, and fucks hard into him.
Shawsy still mumbles out the occasional, "No," but mostly he just keeps his face in the pillows and cries while Brandon fucks him.
Subduing a Shawsy who fought so hard, getting him to go down and submit, makes Brandon feel better, stronger, more powerful than pretty much anything else he can think of. He reaches under Shawsy and jerks him off, sharp pulls on his cock that don't quite match up with the rhythm of Brandon's thrusts.
Shawsy shouts when he comes, the sound breaking off in the middle into a sob.
Brandon lets go of his cock, gets both his hands on Shawsy's hips, and fucks into him hard and fast. He needs to come right fucking now, isn't sure how he's lasted this long, and he listens to Shawsy sobbing into the pillows while he gets in the last few thrusts that get him there.
Brandon pulls out of Shawsy and slumps onto the bed next to him. He drops the condom into the trash can next to the bed and pulls Shawsy over to lie half on him, Shawsy's face in his shirt. They never even got their clothes all the way off.
"There you go, babe," Brandon says. He wraps his arms around Shawsy and rubs up and down his back. He keeps murmuring soothing, meaningless things while Shawsy cries himself out and then drops straight into sleep.
Shawsy wakes up later, and Brandon gets them both into a shower, heats up food and makes sure they rehydrate, and changes the sheets before they drop back into bed.
*
Brandon wakes up in the morning because Shawsy's already awake and digging his chin into Brandon's shoulder.
"Hey." Brandon rubs his hands up and down Shawsy's back. "How do you feel?"
"Great," Shawsy says, and he looks like he means it, smiling and eyes bright. "Can I blow you?"
Brandon blinks at him, half hard and not quite awake. "Yes?" He blinks again. "Yeah, you can do that."
"Awesome." Shawsy pushes the blankets away as he moves down the bed. He smiles up at Brandon, simple and easy, before he goes down on him.
It's a slow, leisurely blowjob. Shawsy licks and sucks and seems to be enjoying it. Brandon certainly is, and he rests his hand on the back of Shawsy's head, pets his hair a little.
"That's good, babe," he says, and Shawsy smiles up at him, sucks harder for a second before he goes back to a slower pace.
Brandon isn't in any hurry to get to the end of the blowjob, so he lets Shawsy set the pace, and doesn't interfere until the slow build gets to the point that he's about to come. He warns Shawsy, and Shawsy looks up at him, eyes dark under his lashes, and doesn't move.
Brandon comes with Shawsy's eyes meeting his, Shawsy's mouth on his cock, Shawsy's hand on his thigh.
Shawsy swallows, licks his lips, and kneels up next to Brandon. "I'm going to jerk off now."
Brandon pats his thigh. "You want me to do it for you?"
"No," Shawsy says. "I'm good."
Brandon watches anyway, giving Shawsy someone to show off for and appreciating the view.
Shawsy gets himself off, leans over Brandon to get tissues from the nightstand to wipe the come off his hands, and then bends down to kiss Brandon, gross with come and morning breath but good anyway.
"That was awesome," Shawsy says brightly. Then he swats Brandon's hip on his way out of bed. "You're going to make me breakfast now, right?"
Brandon watches him go - a nice view, even if he was expecting Shawsy to want to cuddle - and then sits up and gets out of bed. "Yeah, babe, I'll make you breakfast now."
*
Brandon slumps onto his couch. It wasn't that hard a practice. He shouldn't be this tired. He unlocks his phone, and then locks it again and tosses it down on the coffee table. He doesn't feel like talking to anyone, and nothing he has on there to distract him sounds good either.
It's been a while, which is why it takes him some time to realize that he's not just having a bad day for no reason. He picks up his phone, hovers over Shawsy's number for a minute, and then scrolls up and calls Katy instead.
"Hey," she says when she picks up after two rings. "What's up?" He doesn't usually call during the day.
"I'm- Fuck."
"Brandon," she says, sharper with it than with her greeting.
Brandon closes his eyes and leans against the back of the couch. "I'm dropping."
Katy lets out a breath. "Okay. What happened?"
"I was playing with Andy." Brandon has to swallow against all the things crowding into his throat. "It was intense, because he was in a mood and we like to fight it out." He can still feel how good that felt, the memory of it fighting against a wash of shame. "It turned into a rape fantasy."
"Did he safeword?" Katy asks.
"No."
"How was he afterwards?"
"He blew me in the morning," Brandon says. "His idea."
"That's good," Katy says, gentle like he's heard her be with Anna. "That sounds like he was okay. But you went to a dark place."
"Yeah," Brandon says. "Yeah."
"Look," Katy says, "I have a client meeting in five minutes, and then I have to be in court. Anna's teaching and she has office hours today."
Brandon squeezes his eyes shut even tighter. "I know. I know you're busy. I just needed to talk to someone."
Katy's quiet for a beat, and then she says, "I think you should talk to Andy. You know having him tell you it worked for him will make you feel better, and he seems like he can handle it."
Brandon takes a suddenly shaky breath.
"He knows you," Katy says gently. "He knows you're more than just a dom with all the answers. It's not going to shatter his illusions."
"Okay," Brandon says. "Yeah."
"If it doesn't help," Katy says, "and there isn't anyone you want to ask, call me back, and we'll figure something out."
"Yeah," Brandon says. "Thanks, Katy."
"Any time," Katy says so warmly that Brandon knows she means it.
It takes Brandon a few minutes before he can pull up Shawsy's name and call him. He needs to breathe, to let his rational mind take over and insist that Shawsy is fine, that Brandon didn't hurt him.
"Can you come over?" Brandon asks when Shawsy answers.
"Ledds and I were going to go hang out with Saader," Shawsy says.
Brandon closes his eyes, grits his teeth, and then exhales and says, "I'm crashing. Can you come over?"
"Oh," Shawsy says after a beat, "yeah, I can come over. Should I bring anything?"
"No," Brandon says. "Just you."
"Okay, yeah. I'm leaving right now."
"Thank you." Brandon hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the coffee table. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, face resting in his hands, and forces himself to breathe deeply.
Brandon doesn't get up from the couch until Shawsy knocks on his door and he has to go unlock it to let him in.
"Hey," Shawsy says.
"Hi." Brandon lets him in and closes the door behind him.
"How come you're crashing?" Shawsy asks. "Last time was intense, but," he shrugs, "not, like, too intense or anything."
Brandon stares at him. "Andrew," he says, "that was a rape fantasy."
Shawsy opens his mouth, closes it. "Huh," he says after a moment. "I guess it was."
"You guess?" Brandon lets out a sharp laugh. "I held you down and fucked you while you said no."
"Yeah," Shawsy says, "but that's what I wanted. I was spoiling for a fight, and I wanted you to give me one I couldn't win."
"I could've hurt you," Brandon says. "I wanted to hurt you."
Shawsy steps forward and puts his hand on Brandon's shoulder. "You didn't. You wouldn't. I could have safeworded if I wanted out."
The touch is comforting, but Brandon's not sure Shawsy gets the point he's making. "You cried."
"Yeah," Shawsy says. "And I felt great later, like I got to release all the crap inside me." He puts his other hand on Brandon's other shoulder. "Brandon, do you really think I would have cried like that if I didn't feel safe? I felt totally safe. I always feel safe with you."
Brandon hooks one hand around Shawsy's forearm. "I could hurt you."
"Maybe," Shawsy says sounding absolutely certain about it, "but you won't. That time I used my safeword, you were already stopping before I said it."
Brandon closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Shawsy's. That's true, he was stopping, and the fact that Shawsy remembers it cuts through Brandon's self-recriminations.
Shawsy moves one of his hands from Brandon's shoulder to the back of his head, rubs his fingers over his scalp. "I like cuddling when I'm crashing," he says. "Is that what you want?"
Brandon smiles a little, at the offer and at how well Shawsy has learned to negotiate with him. "Yeah, babe," he says. "Come cuddle with me." Later he'll want to take care of Shawsy, just the way he does when Shawsy is crashing, to reaffirm to himself that he's a good dom, but cuddling is a good start.
*
[Either something would happen here or there would be a better transition into the next scene.]
*
Brandon answers the knock on his door and lets Shawsy in. "Hey," he says. "What's up?"
"Nothing," Shawsy says. "I just wanted to see you."
"You saw me two hours ago," Brandon says with a smile.
"I know," Shawsy says. "I wanted to see you again." He pushes his way right into Brandon's space and kisses him.
Brandon wraps his arms around Shawsy and keeps smiling into the kiss. "See me, huh?"
Shawsy grins. "See, make out with, whatever."
Brandon laughs. "Come on. We don't have to stay in the entryway."
Shawsy follows easily as Brandon pulls him to the couch, and then he pushes Brandon to sit down and straddles his lap.
Brandon has to look at up him when he warns, "You're too heavy to do this for very long."
"So we'll move in a while," Shawsy says. "I want this."
Brandon chuckles. "Pushy."
Shawsy grins at him unrepentantly. "Yep." He dips his head and kisses Brandon.
Brandon lets Shawsy be in charge of the kiss for a minute, getting a feel for what he wants, before he slides one hand up the back of Shawsy's shirt, settles the other on the back of Shawsy's head, and takes over.
Shawsy makes a noise into his mouth, a slight, pleased sound, and settles right into where Brandon wants him.
Brandon keeps it slow and easy, the way Shawsy started it, more focused on the enjoyment of making out than anything else. Shawsy sighs into it, makes pleased little mmms, smiles every time Brandon pulls back to let them both breathe.
When Brandon's legs are starting to go numb, he nudges Shawsy back. "Stand up."
"What? Why?"
Brandon taps Shawsy's hip. "Change of position. Up."
Shawsy's slight pout melts into an amused smile when Brandon also stands and then tips Shawsy down onto his back on the couch. Brandon lies down over him, legs slotted together, Brandon's arms on the couch on either side of Shawsy so he's not putting all his weight directly on him.
"And you said I was pushy," Shawsy says.
Brandon says, "You knew what you were getting into with me," and licks slowly into Shawsy's mouth.
Shawsy's hands make their way up the back of Brandon's shirt this time. It's just as slow and easy, but this time Brandon can feel Shawsy getting hard under him. Despite that, neither one of them pushes for more than the making out they started with.
Brandon's lips feel raw and oversensitive when Shawsy's stomach growls. Brandon pulls back to smile down at him.
"Don't stop," Shawsy protests.
Brandon rubs his cheek against Shawsy's. "Come help me make dinner. I'll make out with you again later."
"Promise?" Shawsy asks.
"Promise." Brandon smiles down at him, so fond of Shawsy that he's tempted to make out with him again now. He settles for one soft, deep kiss before he pushes himself off of Shawsy and stands up.
Shawsy looks good sprawled out on Brandon's couch, lips red, slight beard burn on his jaw, legs spread a little where Brandon was. He looks good standing up too, hair a mess and slight bulge of his jeans over his cock.
Brandon runs a hand over Shawsy's hair, smoothing it down a little, and takes him into the kitchen.
Making dinner together involves a lot more touching than is strictly necessary. Shawsy brushes up against Brandon every time they're in the same space, and Brandon presses up against Shawsy's back every time he needs to reach something past him.
They take their plates to the couch instead of sitting at the table. Shawsy sits down right next to Brandon and slings his leg over Brandon's.
"Pushy," Brandon says lightly.
Shawsy smirks at him. "You knew what you were getting into with me."
Brandon laughs and pats Shawsy's thigh. "I guess I did."
When they're done eating, Shawsy puts both of their plates on the coffee table and pushes Brandon back until he's lying on the couch. Shawsy stretches out on top of him, and Brandon grins up at him until Shawsy kisses him and he's too busy kissing back to keep smiling.
Brandon gets his hands up Shawsy's shirt, then pushes one of them down, teasing at the waistband of Shawsy's jeans. Shawsy groans, rubbing his dick down against Brandon.
Brandon nips at Shawsy's lip. "You want to do something more than make out?"
"Yes," Shawsy says.
Brandon grins at his eagerness and pushes Shawsy back enough for Brandon to unbutton his jeans. He gets Shawsy's cock out and wraps his hand loosely around it.
Shawsy lets out a soft moan and folds over to kiss Brandon while keeping enough space between them for Brandon to jerk him off.
Shawsy's cock is familiar to him now, and Brandon knows how to build it up slowly, like the natural progression from how they've been kissing. They don't stop kissing, Shawsy seeming to want that as much as he wants Brandon's hand on him.
Brandon wants that. Brandon wants that with a soft, steady force that makes him hook his free arm around Shawsy's shoulders and keep him close while he licks into Shawsy's mouth.
"Brandon," Shawsy moans when Brandon tightens his grip on Shawsy's cock, strokes him a little harder.
"Yeah," Brandon says, suddenly breathless with how much he wants to make Shawsy come, like he's never gotten to do it before. "Yeah, come on, babe." He jerks Shawsy just how he knows he likes it, triumph unfolding in him when it makes Shawsy gasp and throw his head back.
Brandon watches Shawsy's face as he comes, dragging Shawsy in to kiss him as soon as Shawsy seems like he can manage it.
Shawsy kisses him for a minute, and then he pulls away and stretches to get one of the napkins from dinner off the coffee table.
Brandon takes the napkin from him and wipes his hand mostly clean, swipes roughly at Shawsy's stomach and gently at Shawsy's cock.
Shawsy smiles at him the whole time, and leans in to kiss Brandon when he's done. Shawsy pulls back and takes the napkin from Brandon, drops it on top of one of the plates on the coffee table. "I'm going to blow you now," he announces, and then he scoots down the couch, kneeling over Brandon, and gets Brandon's cock out.
Brandon makes sure it's the hand Shawsy didn't just come all over that he uses to cup the back of Shawsy's head when he goes down on him. Shawsy has enough practice doing this to make it good for Brandon, mouth sealed around him, lips and tongue working in just the right way.
Brandon gasps out, "Andy," and bites back the rest of the words he wants to say because even in the moment he has enough awareness to know that telling Shawsy he loves him isn't something he wants to say without thinking through the consequences a little more.
Shawsy looks up at him, eyes bright and crinkling with the hint of a smile.
Brandon smoothes down Shawsy's hair and smiles back at him, is still smiling when Shawsy's mouth draws his orgasm out of him.
Shawsy swallows most of it, grabs for a napkin to clean up the rest, and comes up to kiss Brandon.
Brandon smiles into that too, tasting himself in Shawsy's mouth and enjoying the way Shawsy's body fits against his. They make out slow and lazy until Shawsy puts his head down on Brandon's shoulder, and then they both doze for a while.
"Hey," Brandon says, softly nudging Shawsy awake when his body reminds him that he's a little too old to be sleeping on a couch with a heavy body pinning him down, "are you staying?"
"Mmm." Shawsy rubs his cheek against Brandon's shoulder. "Yeah, if that's okay."
Brandon brushes his hand over Shawsy's hair. "Yeah, babe, that's okay, but let's move to the bed."
Shawsy rolls off of Brandon onto his knees on the floor, which is almost enough to make Brandon drag him back on top of him. Shawsy catches him looking and smirks at him before he stands up and stretches.
Brandon watches that, too, before he gets off the couch and stretches out the worst of the couch-induced kinks in his back. He can feel Shawsy's eyes on him, and he grins at him when he comes out of his stretch.
Shawsy laughs a little and picks up their plates off the coffee table.
Brandon follows him into the kitchen and crowds him against the sink. He kisses the side of Shawsy's neck, hands on the edge of the sink on either side of Shawsy. "Leave those."
Shawsy tilts his head to let Brandon at his neck, but he also says, "It'll only take a few minutes to wash them."
Brandon chuckles. "I guess I knew what I was getting into with you," he says as he steps to the side.
Shawsy smiles at him. "Yep." He washes and passes plates to Brandon to rinse and put in the drying rack.
When they're done, Brandon hooks his fingers in the waistband of Shawsy's jeans and tugs him closer. "Are you done cleaning my house?"
Shawsy grins at him. "When was the last time you vacuumed?"
Brandon laughs, delighted with the way Shawsy plays along. "Come to bed." He tugs at Shawsy's waistband for emphasis.
Shawsy goes along with him. "Is your bed made?" he asks, laughter in his voice. "I don't know if I can spend the night with someone who doesn't make their bed."
Brandon laughs and changes tactics, pushing Shawsy into his bedroom. "You'd stay even if I didn't."
"No I wouldn't."
"Yes you would." Brandon puts his arms around Shawsy and pulls him tight against his chest. "You would," he murmurs into Shawsy's ear.
"Maybe."
Brandon can see the curve of Shawsy's cheek as he smiles. "You would." He smacks a kiss against Shawsy's cheek, and then lets go of him.
Shawsy's been over enough to already have his own toothbrush in Brandon's medicine cabinet, and Brandon tosses him a pair of drawstring pajama pants that he can cinch tight enough not to fall off his hips. Shawsy also helps himself to one of Brandon's old St. Lawrence t-shirts before he crawls into Brandon's bed.
Shawsy makes himself comfortable, and then looks at Brandon, still standing by the closet watching him. "Come cuddle with me," Shawsy demands.
Brandon's helpless to do anything but turn out the light and get into bed to cuddle with Shawsy. "Anything you want, babe."
*
Brandon meets Katy for a drink at a lawyer bar, one where people are used to not overhearing conversations around them and no one will be too intrusive even if they do recognize Brandon.
"Do I need to get payment from you so this is covered by privilege?" Katy asks when they've been there for ten minutes and Brandon still hasn't said anything that merits the in-person conversation.
"No," Brandon says. Then he sighs. "I made a fucking rookie mistake."
Katy raises her eyebrows. "There are a lot of those," she says calmly. "Which one do you mean?"
Brandon twists his beer bottle in his hands. "Fell in love with my sub."
"Huh," Katy says.
"You don't seem surprised."
Katy lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "Not really. I mean, you were friends already, you obviously like playing together. That kind of intimacy, it was always a possibility." She sips her drink. "Are you going to talk to him about it?"
That is the question. Brandon gulps at his beer. "I told him we could talk about it if either of us wanted to start dating." He twists his beer bottle in his hands again. "It could be a disaster."
Katy pats his hand. "It's not going to be a disaster. Even if he doesn't want to date you, you'll be able to be friends with him. And you never know. I fell in love with my sub, and look how that worked out. You and yours are probably just as well matched as we are."
Brandon takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "I know," he says. "It could be fine, and I have to talk to him about it, not just drag you into it."
Katy squeezes his hand. "Even the toughest doms need support."
Brandon lifts her hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. "Too bad I couldn't just fall in love with you and Anna."
Katy laughs. "You'd get bored," she says. "You need someone who pushes back more than Anna likes to."
*
Brandon goes over to Shawsy's when he knows Leddy is going to be out. He thought about inviting Shawsy over to his place, or trying to find safe neutral territory to meet in, but if Shawsy doesn't want what Brandon wants, he thinks it'll be easier on him if he can leave and leave Shawsy in his own space.
Shawsy opens his door with a bright smile and kisses Brandon once he's inside.
Brandon smiles into the kiss and nudges Shawsy toward the couch. "I came to talk to you," he says.
"Talk, huh?" Shawsy says with a grin.
Brandon shakes his head, unable to keep from smiling while he does. "Serious talk," he says. "Negotiation talk."
"Oh," Shawsy says, dropping the grin. Not that he looks unhappy, but he's taking it seriously. He sits down on one end of the couch, letting Brandon choose how much space to put between them.
Brandon appreciates it, and he sits close but not too close. "I want to ask you about something," he says. "And you can say no. We'll still be friends and we can still play if you do, although we might need to take a break for a little bit."
Shawsy blinks at him. "You're making me nervous."
"I'm making myself nervous," Brandon says. He takes in a deep breath, lets it out slowly. "When we first started doing this, I told you we would talk about it if things changed. I want to date you. Outside of what we do when we play. If you want."
"Yes," Shawsy says, and half the nervousness Brandon was feeling drops away at the word. "I mean, we're already kind of doing that anyway, right?"
"Kind of," Brandon says. "But we didn't talk about it."
Shawsy smiles at him. "And we have to do that, got it."
That eases most of the rest of the tension Brandon was feeling. "Yep."
"So what's going to be different?" Shawsy asks.
"Well," Brandon says, "I'm going to encourage you to come over just to make out with me more often. And I'll probably tell you how I feel about you, not just about you being good when we play."
Shawsy's eyes get wide.
"You don't have to say it back," Brandon says. "You don't have to say anything."
Shawsy nods, and he scoots closer to Brandon. "If we're really doing this, I want us to be exclusive," Shawsy says. "I haven't been hooking up with other people anyway, but," he shrugs, "I don't want you doing it either."
Brandon reaches out for Shawsy's hand and laces their fingers together. "You've gotten good at this negotiation thing," he says. "I won't hook up or play with anyone else either."
Shawsy beams at him, and then drops into seriousness again. "Unless we're both there and we both want it."
Brandon grins and pulls Shawsy over and onto his lap. "Oh yeah? You got some ideas about that, babe?"
Shawsy loops his arms around Brandon's shoulders. "I want to watch you play with someone else," he says. "A guy. Like we do."
"Just watch?" Brandon asks.
Shawsy nods. "I want to watch you do your thing. When we play, I'm in it and I can't just watch how good you are." He shrugs. "People watch you play hockey, and I want to watch you do the other thing you're really good at."
Brandon curves his hand over the back of Shawsy's head and draws him in for a kiss. Shawsy stays close when Brandon stops kissing him, their foreheads pressed together.
"Okay," Brandon says. "I'll set it up." He rubs his thumb behind Shawsy's ear. "Anything else we need to talk about?"
Shawsy shifts on his lap and grins at him. "What we're going to do to celebrate."
Brandon chuckles and grabs Shawsy's ass with both hands. "What makes you think you get a say in that?"
Shawsy laughs, leaning back into Brandon's grip. "Bossy." Then his smile slides down into a smirk. "Take me now."
Brandon laughs, moving one hand up Shawsy's back to pull him in close. "Is that permission to do whatever I want?"
Shawsy groans. "Yeah. Yes, please."
Brandon keeps one hand tight against Shawsy's ass while he uses the other to keep him close enough to kiss. "Andy," he says, lips running along the line of Shawsy's jaw, "babe." He pauses with his lips against the shell of Shawsy's ear. Maybe he should wait, but then he just told Shawsy he was going to tell him this kind of thing, and he doesn't want to wait any longer. "I love you."
Shawsy gasps, and shudders, and yanks at Brandon's hair until he's in the right place for Shawsy to kiss him, deep and hard, greedy. "Love you," Shawsy mutters against his lips. He grinds down into Brandon's lap, dick hard between them. "Please."
There's no way Brandon can keep from smiling after that, so he doesn't even try, just presses that smile against Shawsy's lips, his cheek. "Yeah, babe," he promises. "This is going to be great."
(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-28 07:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-28 11:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-28 07:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-28 11:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-28 10:04 pm (UTC)So obviously it was great that you posted this, thank you for sharing it!
(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-28 11:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-29 08:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2015-03-30 01:15 am (UTC)