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Pretty little rings with blue jewels.
Humming, he bent to one, nibbling on it, giving it a good, long lick, then flicking at it with his tongue.
Fillion panted, focusing on him, on his lips.
He hummed again, this time with the nipple between his lips, knowing the sound would vibrate around the hard little bit of flesh.
Fillion groaned, his boy panting for him in sheer desperation.
He shifted his weight so he could spread Fillion’s legs with his hand, and rubbed his fingertips along Fillion’s perineum. The strip of flesh was hot and silky and his touches there made Fillion shiver. A ring here, too, then. Something small and shiny and secret. Just for the two of them.
He slid his finger across Fillion’s hole next, the wrinkled skin hot, tight.
Fillion gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head for a brief moment.
“Been a while, hmm?” He stroked again.
“Over a year. A long time.”
“You’ll be ready,” he promised. He would take his time to open Fillion up.
“Will I? I want to be. Ready for you. God, I need to stop babbling.”
“I like your babbles, boy.” It gave him insight as to what was going on inside his boy’s head.
Fillion stopped. “You do? Are you sure?”
He chuckled. “I do and I am indeed sure.”
Fillion offered him the sweetest smile. Oh, lovely boy. “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you.” Fillion’s eyes filled with tears.
Someone had told Fillion he talked too much so he’d learned to keep it all in and this bright light had faded. He kissed Fillion’s cheeks, licked away the tears that leaked from the pretty brown eyes.
“I see you, boy.”
Fillion offered him the sweetest smile. Oh, lovely boy.
He gave his boy a kiss, then another, his finger stroking that hot hole over and over.
Fillion began to relax, rocking into him, showing that need.
Sweet, wonderful boy. He couldn’t quite believe someone had let him go and no one else had snapped him up.
He deepened his kisses, pressing against Fillion’s hole now, making the tiny pucker open just a bit.
Fillion moved eagerly, rocking against him and taking more and more of his touch.
He stopped long enough to open the lube and get his fingers slicked up. Then he went back to invading Fillion’s hole, the way much easier now that his finger was wet.
Fillion’s hands held his shoulders, keeping them close together, clinging as they connected.
Sweet boy. One day, he would be able to tie Fillion up because his boy trusted him enough that they could play hard. Luckily, he had patience.
There were going to be dozens of one days.
Hundreds.
Smiling, he leaned in to rub his cheek against Fillion’s left nipple. Then he took it between his lips. As he bit down, he pressed his finger all the way in.
