Against him, Dylan swallowed hard. But he didn't move, his hand didn't move; he didn't even flinch. Steady. Listening. Waiting.
"You sure?" Dylan asked softly.
"Y-yeah," Ashton admitted, for it was too late now to hide the truth. Dylanknew. Had felt the way his hand on Ashton's cock had made him hard. The way Ashton had kissed back, hadn't pushed him away? There wasn't any place left for Ashton to hide. There wasn't any reason left for him to hide. "I — I need…"
He pressed his lips tight, frustrated; wanting, needing, aching with his inability to say it.
"You need a safe word."
"What?" Ashton reared back, sure he hadn't heard right. "As in — Uphere?You can't tie me up!"
"Oh, don't tempt me, fresa. I might take it as a challenge," Dylan chuckled darkly, the shape and promise of it shooting down Ashton's spine and directly to his cock. "A safe word isn't about kink, it's about control. And you seem like a guy in desperate need of some control right now. So I'm going to let you have it; just a little, don't let it go to your head. But you give me a word. And when I hear it, this all shuts down, understand?Youcan shut it down — at any time, for any reason."
Pity. He was taking pity on Ashton, and it stung like being dunked in ice water on a winter's day.
"It's… I'm fine," Ashton said, shaking his head.
"But I'm not," Dylan growled, hands tightening where he gripped the back of Ashton's neck, the other fisted in his clothes, and — oh.
Wow.
"You've obviously got something you're struggling against," Dylan said in that same low, commanding voice. "That's alright, but it's not my problem. Whatismy problem is all thesecan'ts, won'ts, don'ts— anything that sounds like anoorstop?I'm the kind of guy that likes to be all in, and¡Ay Dios mío!but there's so much I'd love to do to your bobo little ass. It kills the mood for me, not being able to tell if you're serious. So: pick a serious word. One you'll remember, and won't accidentally shout out while I'm busy blowing your mind."
"Uh…" Hasilty, Ashton wracked his brain. "Byline?"
"Alright, byline it is," Dylan nodded. "Mine's Beethoven."
Ashton blinked."Beethoven?Why?"
"Who's gonna say Beethoven during sex?" Dylan shrugged. "Safe words don't have to come with a story. In fact, it's probably better if they don't. The point is, I say it, you have to stop — right?"
"Sure, I guess…"
"No guessing," Dylan snapped, the warning clear. "This is about being clear.So?"
"You say Beethoven, I stop," Ashton repeated obediently. "Got it. So, uh… what now? Because I — I don't think I'm, um… that I'm ready for all the things you… uh, said."
"Mmm, me neither," Dylan murmured, as he found the zipper to Ashton's pants again, driving Ashton to madness with how slowly he slid it down. "Want you in a bed, for one. If I'm taking your cock, I believe I'd like to ride you. If you're taking me, then I'd want to take my time."
Oh hell.
Ashton gasped when Dylan shoved his hand inside Ashton's pants, warm and firm as he palmed Ashton's cock through the thin cotton of his briefs.
Breath shuddering at the touch, Ashton groaned, thrusting, deliriously grateful for even that much relief. He wasn't certain what he should be doing with his hands, what would be wanted or allowed; gripping and kneading at Dylan's shoulders, burying his face in Dylan's neck.
"Shouldn't rush it, your first time,” Dylan continued as the backs of those knuckles brushed along Ashton’s shaft in sweet torment. Exploring the shape of him, the curve of his —hng— his balls. “Take a few weeks, train you up on some toys… Do it right, y'know?"
Ashton nodded, so wound up he couldn't have said what it was he was agreeing to —Train me? What? And with…toys? —but fervently in need of it all the same.
"Have you so wound up and needy."
Needier than this?
"Begging me to fill you up with cock."
Oh, God.
"But I wouldn't."
