Training Wheels - DVD Extras
Apr. 14th, 2011 08:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sonora_conejaPairing: Liam/Bradley
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: possible D/s issues...
Summary: A fill for this prompt over at the kink meme
ok, background info. Our lovely napalmedsteak got herself some life-size cutouts of the boys, and there's a ton of discussion on the off-topic thread.
There was some talk about Face's expression, and I kinda suggested that maybe he was wearing.......idk........something.
Link is here if you want to read up: http://community.livejournal.com/ateam_prompts/821.html?thread=5013557#t5013557
So let's have some of your special brand of gorgeousness, hon.
Hannibal or Liam, Face or Bradley.
and a training device.
Early on in their relationship, Liam realizes that Bradley’s not going to be able to take him without some, err, additional help. Fortunately, he’s got just the thing...
“Liam, Liam, oh... oh, oh, fuck, please...”
“More, Brad?”
“I-I...”
“Tell me what you want, lad, just say it. Is it...”
“N-no, p-p-please...please stop...”
And that pressure is instantly, terribly, perfectly gone.
Bradley breathes a sigh of relief, despite himself, despite the way Liam’s sliding off of him, tracing the lines of the younger man’s shoulder with some kind of hesitation that makes him want to throw up. Fuck, what the hell’s wrong with him? He wants this. He asked for this. Sure, it’s only the second time they’ve tried, the first since that one-off two weeks ago, the one where he took Liam, no problem. But tonight, fuck, the pressure, the sensation of being split open and turned inside out damn near unbearable, Liam barely inside at all...
“Are... are you okay, Bradley?” Liam asks, and at the dejected tone he hears there, the American actor turns over, rolling off his belly so he can face is would-be lover.
Liam’s collapsed off to the side, onto his back, one big hand folded under his own head, the other resting heavily on his chest. He’s only half-hard now, and for some reason, that upsets Bradley. A lot.
“Fuck, Liam...” he says, trying to figure out what he can say here, and reaches over for that big hand, attempting without any success to prise it loose. “I’m so, so sorry...”
That almost gets him a chuckle, although he doesn’t like the way that sounds, either. “What are you sorry for? I’m the one who...who’s...”
“It’s just really tight,” Bradley says. Even with all the lube Liam used. Even with the prep. “It’s... I don’t understand it. I took you just fine before.”
“Don’t lie, lad. You were sore for days that first time. I saw how you were...”
"Shouldn't it be easier? Like, hmm, with..."
"It's not like I broke your hymen, Bradley...the muscles do clench back up, lad. Tighter, maybe, now, I don't know." And yeah, Liam still sounds pretty fucking defeated.
It's a terrible, terrible thing.
So Bradley pushes up on his side and gets close, pressing his own reawakening erection back against the big Irishman’s side, wanting him to know exactly how much he wants this. Wants to do this. Wants to be able to do this... for him, his traitorous brain thinks, but the younger man’s not even going to think about entertaining that as a possibility right now. Just... just wants to be able to feel that again, Liam inside him. His own fingers, something Patrick told him about, are wonderful, just don’t compare.
Not at all.
“I didn’t mind,” he admits, hoping it’s seductive enough to get Liam out of his funk. Liam seems to like his voice, which is kind of cool. “I kind of like it, actually. It was like I could feel it all, you know, afterward...”
“Did you now?” And Liam’s on his side too now, head resting on a big hand while the other comes up to pull Bradley closer. “You liked that?”
“Liked? Yeah, it felt like I was all full...” Brad replies and gasps, brain misfiring a bit as one of Liam’s legs snakes over his, bringing their groins together in full, glorious contact. And goddammit, he knows he’s blushing again. Just can’t seem to stop. Fuck, Liam looks at him, and he gets all warm inside, but here, naked and exposed and held like this is so much more. So much more. Almost like... “It was really, really good.”
Liam nods for a second, and closes those gorgeous blue eyes. “Do you want this, Bradley? Do you really, lad?"
It’s whispered against the stubble of his cheek, and the younger man shivers closer, wiggling into that embrace as much as he can. Didn't they already have this conversation? Didn't he already tell Liam that he wants to explore all of this mansex thing? And that means everything. He wants everything. And while Patrick's awesome and Sharlto's dropped his own little hints, it's Liam he wants to guide him through it.
But there's no way to put that into words without ruining their cozy little friendship or whatever. It's just a fling, Cooper, he tells himself, and tries to move around for a kiss that the Irishman expertly dodges. “Yeah, I mean... yeah. Want you... want you to... show me all of this...”
Liam laughs a little, and he’s close enough, pressed chest to chest, to feel those vibrations. “Well, there’s something we could try, if, err, if you’re so inclined.”
Ooh. “Like what?”
“There are ways to make sure you’re able to handle...”
Bradley drops his hand between them and wraps it around Liam’s cock, which is eagerly starting to nudge into his thigh now. “Your gigantic coke can up my... up here?”
“Brat,” the older man growls, and slaps Brad’s hand away, replacing it with his own, those wonderfully strong fingers encircling both of them now. “Yes, there are ways to make sure this fits inside your tight, beautiful body, lad, if you’d like to try...”
“Bring it, old man. I’m up for anything,” he says confidently, arching into that touch.
But Bradley realizes he really might have made a mistake the way Liam starts laughing, really laughing, one of those deep belly laughs that make the younger actor feel all funny inside. He just can’t bring himself to care, though, not the way Liam starts working their cocks against each other, shorting out everything else.
And hell, it can’t be too weird or bizarre.
Right?
Of course not.
+++++
“Liam, what the fuck is that?”
“That, Bradley, is your new best friend.”
Liam looks way too damn pleased with himself, Bradley thinks, and stares at the contraption in front of him, black leather and shiny chrome nestled in a bed of white tissue paper. There’s two more boxes, both wrapped in the same silver ribbons, sitting off to the side, one bigger and one smaller, and he’s a little afraid of what might be in them. Their one day off the shoot for the week, out at some Vancouver hotel, Liam showing up unannounced before he had even woken, those boxes in hand. The remains of breakfast off to the side of the table, and Bradley’s still in his sleep pants. He’s had his morning coffee, but this, this all is throwing him completely for a loop. “No, seriously, what is that?”
“It’s a harness, lad,” and the older actor fingers the arrangement of leather straps, raising it right out of its non-descript black box. “Haven’t you ever seen one of these before?”
He shakes his head, knowing his eyes are probably the size of dinner plates, but he can’t help it. And Liam’s chuckling again, and running his thumb and forefinger around in the wide chrome ring on the end, and Bradley can’t tear his eyes away. “That’s a cock ring, right?”
“Yes, Bradley, that’s a cock ring.”
“What... what’s it there for?”
Liam doesn’t laugh at him, not this time, but turns the thing around to a wider section of the leather, rubbing it between his palms experimentally, and the younger actor realizes he’s inspecting the damn... harness...thing. “Why don’t you open the other two?”
Bradley goes for the smaller one first. It’s a giant tube of lubricant, and that’s something Patrick and Liam have told him about.
“It’s a good quality one, lad, won’t dry out or absorb too quickly,” Liam says, tugging on the thing a little now. “Open the other one.”
It’s the tone Liam uses when he’s giving Joe some kind of suggestion about what he’d like to see in a certain scene. Not the voice you argue with, no matter how soft it sounds. And, face flaming, Bradley complies.
He’s expecting to be shocked, but instead? Instead, he’s just confused.
Liam’s looking at him expectantly. “Don’t tell me I have to explain what this one is for.”
“I think you might,” he replies. It’s a set of little cylinders, four of them, bulging in the middle, tapering a bit towards the top and flaring out flat at the bottom. Hard. Metal, aluminum or something, coated in a springy layer of silicone, very lightweight and very, very black. The first isn’t much longer than three inches, maybe an inch and a half at the widest point. But the biggest one is about five inches long, and almost three at the round. “What is...”
The older man drops the harness back in its box and slides around Bradley, covering his back with his own broad chest and dropping his chin onto the American’s shoulder. One of those big hands picks up the smallest, and turns it around and around, while the other hand drops inside the waistband of his soft cotton pants. “This, lad, is a buttplug.” A finger presses against his entrance. “And it goes right in here.”
Bradley makes a strangled little yelp, either from the touch of Liam’s index finger or the words he just uttered. “It...wait, what?”
Liam kisses his neck, low and almost biting. “It goes up inside of you, Bradley. Slides right in. You’ll love the way it feels, lad...”
“And the, the harness?” he asks, trying to remember how to breath.
“Holds it in place.”
“Of course it does.”
And Liam turns him around at that, pushing him away a little, wrists to shoulders, and Bradley can feel the smallest buttplug dangling down against his back. There’s a hint of concern in those blue eyes. “You wear it for a few hours at a time at first, then work up to longer periods and the bigger sizes. It’ll help stretch you out, and you’ll... this... this is the way this works, Bradley, but if you’re not comfortable with it...”
The younger actor glances over his shoulder at the present - because there’s no other word for this - and then back to Liam, who’s smiling gently at him. If this is how he gets himself ready... “I’m, I, I want to try, Liam, I do. I just... I feel like a fucking novice, not knowing about any of this,” he replies, swallowing hard.
Liam doesn’t seem to care about his little admission, though. Draws him in to a big bear hug. “What did Joe call you that one time? A choirboy?”
“I’m not that naive!” he protests without any heat.
“Oh, but you are, lad,” and a big hand smooths down the fine hairs along his neck. “You’re a very sweet, very innocent, very pretty...”
Bradley grins back and hits Liam square in the chest. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point, Neeson. Show me how this little set up works?”
“You sure, lad?”
“It’ll help me take...” but he has to bite his tongue before he says take you like a damn lovesick teenager, and what’s that about anyway?
“Yes, lad, it’ll help you take a man,” Liam practically purrs in his ear. “Take him without pain, however you’d like it...”
“Sounds good,” he says. “Can we... can I try it out?”
And at that, the older actor lets him go, moving back to the table and the harness and everything, gathering his selected pieces into the biggest box and nods back towards the bed. “Strip down,” he orders gently, walking over to it. “Shirt too.”
Bradley slowly pulls his sleep clothes off, shirt and pants, something shamefully, gloriously erotic about undressing like this, for this. But he braces himself, tossing the clothes away as he follows Liam over to the bed to stand uncertain at the edge.
The Irishman’s already sitting down, carefully uncapping the lube, and he pats the rumpled sheets next to him. “Face down, lad.”
“Are you sure this isn’t going to hurt, Liam?” he asks as he lays downs and digs his body down into the cool cotton, hating himself for how whiny it sounds. But his co-star just rubs the small of his back reassuringly.
“It’s going to be fine, lad. Now, I’m just going to slick you up a bit,” he says, and a cool, lubed finger trails down between his cheeks, into his cleft, right over his hole. “Good so far?”
“I, uhmph,” Bradley moans, that finger slipping inside of him. There’s some pushing, a little bit of wriggling, but nothing too much. A lot of slick, though. A lot of slick. And he feels himself getting hard. “I’m not going to break, Liam.”
“Shh, Brad. Let me do this first time, okay? Then we’ll go over how you do it yourself...”
“What do you mean, how I do it myself?”
Liam’s hand is there, smoothing down the inside of his thighs, across his ass, and Bradley can hear more slick being squeezed out. He cranes his neck, and there’s Liam, rubbing the stuff across shining black, a bulge definitely visible in his own jeans. “It’s something you’ll have to do every day, lad, if you want it to work right. Like I said, remember?”
“Oh, yeah, right...” he mumbles, hot everywhere, and he hides his face in a pillow. “You're not going to do it for me?”
There's a pause, and Bradley realizes how that must have sounded. Fuck, really, did he really just say that? Damn.
"Only if you want me to," Liam finally says. "But you should be able to get it after this." He feels his cheeks being spread and the blunt tip of the plug is right there. “Now don’t fight me on this, Brad. Take a deep breath... okay, now, exhale...” and on the exhale, Liam starts slowly working the three-inch plug into him.
It’s different than a cock or his fingers, Bradley realizes. It’s colder, for one, and unyielding. But there’s still something about it, not unbearable, almost good, definitely good, so different and so wonderful and it’s Liam’s hand, Liam, who’s pushing this thing into him, Liam...
And he yelps a little in surprise as Liam rotates it, just a bit, and there’s a sheepish little laugh behind him. “Sorry, lad, couldn’t resist. You just look, you look, it’s... you’re just taking that so well.”
“No, no, Liam, it’s fine,” he pants. “Can you... can you do that again?”
Liam chuckles and moves the plug again, a little harder this time, a little faster, and Bradley feels his ass canting up in the air of its own accord. It’s all too much, really too much, and he moves his own hand back to fist his cock but, once again, Liam slaps it away.
“Allow me, lad,” he growls, and Bradley hears a faint unzipping, right before the older man’s cock slips right between his cheeks. That added pressure pushes the buttplug deeper, and a fist closes down around his own cock. It’s definitely too much stimulation now, and the American actor feels himself gasping through his orgasm as Liam locks up and shudders against his back, hot semen shooting across heated skin, quick and dirty and Bradley falls down into the sheets again, groaning. And then Liam’s gone and he’s alone.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s thinking that this is shameful, that he should be ashamed, playing around in some Canadian hotel room, sex toys and an older man and Liam thinks he’s so innocent, but he knows what a submissive is, and does this make him one? What does any of this mean?
“How’s it feel?” Liam asks, coming back and wiping him down with a warm, damp cloth. “Good?”
“Good,” he sighs back, not giving a shit what the hell this says about him. Liam’s safe. He knows that much. He’s safe with Liam. And that’s more than enough. It’s not like he’s doing this for any other reason than to have some regular, awesome, gay sex anyway. Totally fine. Nothing weird about this at all. “Feels really damn good, Liam. Feels really full.”
“Glad to hear it, Brad.” The washcloth slides underneath him, wiping his release off, skin soft and cool again. “Kneel up, lad. We need to get the harness on.”
“But...”
“Come on, Bradley, just kneel up. It’s okay, you can move with it.” Liam chuckles, and helps him up. “That’s the whole idea.”
“Right, yeah,” he groans, feeling the thing shift inside of him as he settles into a new position. “I knew that.”
Liam chuckles again, and Bradley looks down to see the black leather being strapped around his waist. It’s really thin. Obviously made to be hidden under clothes.
Is he going to have to wear this under his actual clothes? Not just at night or something?
“You want it right here,” Liam says, seemingly ignorant of the sudden thoughts Bradley’s having of having this thing on, inside him, nobody but the two of them knowing about it. “Right over your hips. And then this crosspiece needs to be just so.”
There’s a strap that falls down, right below his bellybutton, a short thing that clips over one end of the cock ring, and Liam grins in front of him as dexterous fingers slide the metal around him, snugging tight. The older man hasn’t even bothered to pull himself back together, that huge cock hanging out of his jeans, starting to harden again, and Bradley can’t stop staring at it. “Wouldn’t want you coming randomly on the set, now would we?”
Bradley groans at the thought. Answers that question, then. “No, no, that would be bad...”
“Exactly. So, protection.”
There’s another set of straps that hang down in the back, that wide piece of leather hitting him right over his ass, and Liam moves around, doing something with the buttplug that changes the angle a little. He ooks up the strap hanging down from this piece to the ring, tugging his cock down a little.. “The base of the plug snaps into this piece right here to keep the plug in place. That feel okay?”
“Yeah, a little weird, but okay,” Bradley replies as Liam fusses over the lengths and tensions and buckles and somehow seems to get it all right, everything sliding into place, everything just tight and just loose enough.
“You sure?” Liam asks.
He nods again. “It feels weird but...” and he moves his hips a bit, feeling the plug move a little inside of him, sending a bolt of pleasure straight through him, the cock ring just holding him back. “It feels kind of good.”
And to his surprise, the older man crawls back around on the bed and tackles him down, kissing him deeply, leaving him absolutely breathless and ragged as Liam rolls off of him and finally tucks and zips. “Good,” he says and pushes lightly off the bed. “I’m glad to hear it. Now come on, lad, get dressed.”
“Dressed? Why?”
Liam grins at him. “We’re going to go get coffee.”
Bradley feels himself quail. “What?”
“You need to wear it for an hour, at least, and I’m not sitting around your hotel room whilst the minutes tick by.”
“Liam!”
“Come on, Cooper,” Liam says, and holds out his hands again. “You and me, we’ll get a coffee, walk around, let you get used it,” and his voice drops, “the only two people in the world who know the sexiest man in America’s wearing a plug under his clothes...”
His cock twitches again, too fast for the ring to catch, and fuck rationale for any of this. It really is a delicious idea. “You’re on, Neeson,” he groans, and manages to get himself off the bed, the plug shifting deliciously. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“We do that plug... sex... thing again, before you take it out.”
It’s Liam’s turn to groan, but he tries to cover it, Bradley notices with a happy smirk, by tossing him his pants off the back of the chair he threw them on last night. “There will most certainly be more of that, brat...”
He smiles and tugs his jeans on. Screw underwear. Liam’s going to pay for this. And judging from the way the older man stares as he wriggles them back over his hips, the waistband just concealing the thin leather, Bradley figures this was the right call. “You’re on, old guy.”
They’re both still laughing as they leave the room.
Liam plays with the plug again in the elevator to the way to the lobby.
+++++
The first few days, Liam tells Brad he only needs to do this for a couple of hours. So he does it at night, his co-star usually coming over to help get it set up. And maybe they’ll watch a movie or talk or something like that, usually ending in make-out sessions on the couch like they’re seventeen again. Or blowjobs. Blowjobs are good - Bradley’s discovering he actually likes giving them.
It’s all okay, too. Liam seems absolutely fascinated by the entire thing, inserting and playing and removing again. The younger actor lets him, lets him do whatever he wants, because it always feels good and he loves that smile, that secret little smile, that steals over his face whenever he gets to touch it.
“You ready for this one?” Liam asks him on Friday, holding up the next plug. About four inches, fatter and definitely wider at the base.
It’s felt so good so far... so Bradley nods, and in it goes. More stretch, yeah, but with that is so, so much more sensation.
And later, as Liam’s moving it around inside on him, his own hand wrapped around the older man’s cock, the two of them bringing each other to sweaty, wonderful orgasm, he figures this is a pretty damn good thing right here. That this is something he could definitely get used to.
He doesn’t want this to go on forever, though. He does want to get to the good part. Wants to feel Liam again, the friction and nubbiness of living flesh instead of indifferent silicone and metal. So Bradley starts wearing it for longer and longer periods of time, having to venture into day hours sometimes, although there’s no good way to explain this to the costume people, and trying to run with it in is just out, so he has to pick and choose his time. Sometimes, he’ll get done with the day, completely exhausted, but he makes sure to get it in before he goes to bed or whatever it takes.
Whatever it takes.
He’s in the third one by day twelve, maybe moving a little aggressively, but Liam only chuckles and pulls him down to the bed and twists it around inside of him until his eyes roll back into his head. Fucking wonderful.
But this morning there’s no Liam yet, no supervision. Nobody prying at all. It’s the weekend and it’s his day and he’s going to fucking make the most of it.
The largest plug is still waiting for its turn. It’s bigger, nearly six inches, almost two and a half at the base, and while it’s not quite as big as Liam is, it’s going to have to do. It’s probably too soone, but he really doesn’t care. Not right now. He caught a glimpse of naked Liam yesterday, in his trailer as the other man was changing for another of the cast’s bar nights, and he hasn’t been able to shake it.
He wants to feel it again. He really, really does.
Bradley takes it reverently out of the box, along with a second thing of lube Liam bought him after the first ran out, staring at it, just a little. It’s conical, but wide at the base and tip alike. All smooth black, untouched and unspoilt, and it’s with a slow hand that Face slicks it up.
He lubes a finger and runs it inside of himself. Oh yeah, he’s not nearly as tight as he had been. Looser. Much looser. Patrick, who was somehow able to discern the second he walked on set with the harness on, warned him that there can be consequences for a too-loose sphincter muscle down here, but admitted that this probably wasn’t going to do anything too horrific, that he wasn’t really in the demographic that might normally experience that. But either way, Bradley really does not care.
He wants Liam too goddamn bad to worry about anything else right now.
He kneels down on the bed, on hand and knees, his right forefinger and thumb guiding the device straight into him, tensing up automatically at the extra girth forces the muscles wide. Bradley grits his teeth and forces himself to relax, breathing out, and tries to think about why he’s doing this, about Liam’s massive cock, about how fucking good it’s going to feel to have that again, about how happy it’s going to make the older man. He’d been so worried, so depressed...
Thinking about that, the look that’s going to spread over the other man’s face when it’s his finger slipping inside of him. When he’s able to line up and push in and take him again...
All that heat flares up in Bradley, thinking about Liam taking him, and the plug slips in, all the way, that ring of muscle opening wide and taking in the thickest bit of the base.
He moans. Because in his mind’s eye, it’s Liam who did it.
No, wait, even better.
It’s Liam who’s inside of him.
You’re so tight, lad. I’m not hurting you, am I?
“No, no Liam,” he moans, taking a harder grip on the square base of the plug. Bradley knows he really should get the harness on, put it on and get on with his morning, but he just can’t. The erotic sensations of being filled like this are coursing through his body with every beat of his heart, and then as he twists, the actor feel his arousal start to soar. “You aren’t hurting me.”
God, feels so good, being buried in you...
He pulls the plug out a little, popping the wide flare of the base out, savoring the feeling of that smooth, hard length gliding out. “Please, Liam, please fuck me...”
You never have to beg me, lad. Tell me what you need...
“Need you, need you,” he gasps, face falling into the bed, and can almost feel one of those big, wonderful hands brace on his upturned hips as he pushes the plug back in. It’s Liam, though, that length in him now, Liam fucking him, Liam... just Liam...
Like that, lad? Is that what you need?
“F-f-faster, Liam, god...”
His hand speeds up with the plug, thrusting it in and out, gasping every time that flared base pops out, easier and smoother every time, Liam pumping in and out of him, head thrown back, breath coming in ragged gasps. Bradley tries to get a hand around his cock, but he can’t, not like this, and Liam slaps it away anyway, growling that wonderful accent in his ear that you’re going to come on my cock, Bradley, or you’re not going to come at all...
He’s groaning now, with every snap of Liam’s hips, every slide, so slick and deep, changing the angle until he finds his prostate and sticks with that, Liam taking such good care of him, Liam wanting it to be good for him, Liam so pleased, so pleased with him...
Look at you, my beautiful boy, such a good boy, doing all of this just for me...
And that does him in completely.
Brad jams the plug in hard, and pitches forward, balls pulling up, spilling himself in hard, hot spurts, milking the last few drops of pearly white fluid with a trembling hand. Completely ruining the sheets, he thinks with a tired giggle, and rolls off to the side, avoiding the wet spot he just put there.
“Okay,” he tells himself, feeling his heart slow, feeling that inflexible, undeniable six inch length deep inside of him, tight, all those little interior muscles clenching around it. “Okay, okay, we can do this.”
Just a few more days. Just a few more days. In a few days, he’ll be able to give this all to Liam again without the older man feeling guilty about it.
And as he gets everything hooked up, Bradley steadfastly refuses to think about why he’s thinking about being Liam’s boy. Stops all of that. It would be nice. It really would be. But they’re just having some fun. Nothing more to it...
Look at you... he hears again, and smiles as he tugs a shirt on.
Maybe his co-star’s up for coffee again this morning.
+++++
It’s going to be his fourth evening with largest plug in, the one he’s jokingly been calling Zeus, but only to himself. And Bradley squints at it a little, trying to imagine how much longer, thicker, Liam is. Significantly, he knows, and goes for the lube.
He really, really hopes this is going to be enough.
It’s been a weird few weeks with the set, and no more so than that first morning with Zeusy here in.
Bradley had wondered if he was walking a little funny, the way Liam looked at him as he sidled up to where the Irishman was sipping tea and reading, down in the lobby of the hotel. The book had been put aside the second Bradley plunked himself down on the other end of the sofa, not where he’d wanted to be, but close enough. Close as he could get in public, anyway.
Liam had just stared at him, a little smile playing over his handsome features, and Bradley knew he lost whatever game was being played when he blushed and looked away.
“Moved on up, have we lad?” the older actor had asked smoothly.
“Yeah, err, yeah...” he’d replied lamely, and dared to scoot a little closer. Close enough to feel body heat. “Is that... is that a problem?”
Liam cocked his head, and that smile had spread. “Eager, are we?”
“Well, yeah, I mean, it’s all more fun once it gets to the point where...”
“Smells like you’re having plenty of fun as it is,” the older actor had grinned, and Bradley, right then and there, wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. But he had to settle for a nervous little laugh that was soon overridden by Liam’s much, much louder explosion of mirth.
“Fuck, Liam...” he’d groaned, and Liam had clapped him on the back and stood, gesturing that he should do the same.
“Let’s go get your latte, Bradley,” he’d announced, and then, in a softer voice, brushing past him, “and you are going to have to show me how you did one of these days.”
Well, Bradley thinks now, not tonight. Tonight they’re supposed to be hanging out in Rampage’s room, watching a movie or something. Sharlto’s been very excited about it. All. Day. And he’s supposed to be up there in a few minutes, so he doesn’t have time to have fun with it again, to fantasize about...
There’s a knock at his door, though, and Bradley stuffs the slick plug under his pillow and hastily pulls his pants back up, tucking the open, unhooked harness back into his pants where it’s cinched up around his waist, and goes to answer it. Shit, he thinks, wiping his shiny fingers on the inside of a pocket, it sure as hell better not be Patrick, he doesn’t want to have to expla...
Oh. No.
Not Patrick.
Better.
He slides the chain of its slot and opens up, stepping aside automatically as Liam strides easily in to his room, looks around, and then smiles at Bradley as he closes the door again.
“Ready to head up, lad?”
Bradley feels that goddamn, uncontrollable heat start spreading again, starting at his groin, where he’s already got the cockring in place. “I, uh, I’m not quite...” and he looks over his shoulder, feeling a wee bit helpless. Just being near Liam... the man’s completely overwhelming, towering over him, a vast presence, and there’s something sinful about that light cologne he always wears...
“Brad?”
He shakes himself out of his little reverie. Last thing he needs is to get caught fangirling the older actor. Again. “I... I don’t have it in yet, no. If you’d give me a minute...”
Liam’s hand settles on his hip as he tries to turn and head back to his bed. “Need some help with that tonight, lad?”
Godyespleasepleaseplease his brain screams, but the only thing Brad lets himself do is just nod.
Just once.
“Lead the way,” Liam murmurs, and damn if that all doesn’t just send goosebumps scattering everywhere.
Bradley knows the plug, all slicked up like it is, is going to be a problem, but the way Liam doubles over laughing when he has to peel it off the pillow doesn’t do anything to calm his oddly flustered nerves.
Pull it together, Cooper, he orders himself to no effect. It’s not like Liam hasn’t done this for you before.
Still chuckling, Liam wraps a hand around the younger man’s hips and pulls them both into the bathroom, turning on the sink. “It’s okay, calm down, but your face at that was just...” he says, obviously trying to hold back his mirth as he gets a washcloth to wipe spoiled slick off the springy black surface.
“You can say it,” Bradley groans.
“...fucking hilarious,” Liam says, and breaks down into a fresh round of laughter, leaning against the edge of the hotel room sink, chortling uncontrollably. And yeah, Bradley thinks, a small smile breaking out on his own face, it was kind of funny, the way it just stuck like that...
“Okay, okay, enough of that,” the Irishman says, grinning, and nods to the American as he gets a handful of soap and starts washing the thing off. “Pants down, lad. Lets get you all set up.”
Bradley moves down a bit and unzips his jeans, noticing Liam’s eyes following his movements in the mirror, and goes a little slower than he strictly needs to.
“Cocktease,” the older man says, and it’s heated. Bradley figures that must be because he’s got the main loop of the harness, the cockring, already snugged in place.
It helps his self-confidence tremendously, seeing that reaction, the way Liam’s pants start tenting, and he bites his lip in what he hopes is a sexy way. He hands over the lube, which he grabbed along with the buttplug. “You love it.”
“Aye, lad, something about you...” Liam replies, voice lowering a register, and Bradley wonders if the older man’s been dreaming about the same thing. If he’s been fantasizing about how this is going to feel, when Brad’s uncooperative body finally falls into line and does what they’re asking it to do. If Liam’s been jacking off at night to the thought of him, like he’s been doing at the thought of the Irishman.
The younger actor turns around and braces his hands on the edge of the counter without being prompted, watching Liam in the mirror, slotting around behind him, circling his belly with the plug, clenched in the fingers of one big hand, a wonderful big hand, the plug’s base cool against his skin, as the hand other palms his ass. “You been making sure to slick yourself up before putting this in, lad?”
He nods. “Y-yeah...”
“I think I should check anyway, don’t you think?”
He nods again, and Liam’s hand pulls back on his belly even as he slips two fingers straight in.
And they both groan as Bradley’s body offers absolutely no resistance to that.
Those two long fingers, so much better than the plug or even his own, rotating slightly, thrusting. Testing. And Bradley inhales, slow.
“How’s that feel, lad? Think this is going to go back in just fine?”
Oh, right, the plug. He’d forgotten about little Zeusy there. “Yeah, sure, uhh, Liam, yeah, it feels...”
Over his shoulder, in the glass in front of him, Bradley can see the older man smiling blandly, and then he arches back, breathing, heartbeat suddenly skyrocketing, cock fighting against the steel of the ring. Because Liam pushes in with a third finger and fucking spreads. “How about that?” Liam growls, head dropping, rough chin rubbing up the younger actor’s neck. “What about that, lad?”
“F-feels...feels so...” and then Bradley whines high in his throat, as those fingers are gone and he’s being thrown around, hobbled by his jeans, landing hard on his spine against the other wall. One of Liam’s hands lands down, right next to his ear.
His lips move in close, murmuring those words so close that the American thinks he absorbs them through his skin rather than with his ears. “Feels so what, lad?”
“Feels... feels so,” he pants, staring down at the leather strap around his waist, the ring tight around his cock, the pressure building, being held back. Then he looks up, meeting Liam’s need-blown eyes with his own. “Feels so goddamn amazing.”
And then a big hand curls around the harness’ belt section, yanking him in for a hard, hard kiss.
The forceful grip on one of his biceps, the way the leather’s digging into his skin, just a bit now, Rough, probing tongue, hard hands, hard body, smashing his into the wall...
It catches him completely by surprise, this raw aggressiveness, pure animalistic need. He's not sure if he’s feeling fear or lust right now. He’s had rough sex with women before, but never on the receiving end, and never with anyone quite like Liam...
He gasps, shudders, and those lips move down his jaw, right over his pulse.
Oh yeah. He can do this.
“You ready, lad?” Liam growls, sucking a little on his neck now, not quite hard enough to bruise. He runs a hand between them, all the way up to the younger man’s throat, holding, careful, right under his chin. “You think you can handle it?”
Never with this much preparation. Never with this much forethought. And sure, it’s kind of new, it’s all way new, but Liam wants this. He can hear it in his voice. And Bradley oh so wants Liam to be happy. Anything. Right now, he’s prepared to give Liam anything. “I’ll handle anything you’ve got, Neeson.”
The smile that breaks across the older actor’s face is blinding hot. “We’ll see about that, Cooper.”
Liam tears that hand from Bradley’s throat, right down the front of his soft plaid collared shirt, ripping seams and popping buttons, tearing it, the younger man fighting to get the damn thing off as Liam leads him from the bathroom by the belt of the harness.
They end up tumbling down together on the bed, messing it up even more, scattering the covers and pillows until it’s just a single naked sheet beneath Bradley’s naked ass.
His cock is painfully tight in that ring.
Liam is dragging his own soft white sweater up over his own head, blue eyes heated and narrow, focused, and Bradley realizes he was wrong.
His cock is fighting with everything it’s got against the immutable steel around it, and somehow, that’s only sending his arousal higher and higher and higher.
The older man slides his pants off his hips, shoving his boxer briefs, dark gray against his lightly tanned skin, a knee coming to rest right down by Bradley’s hip, a hand resting on the slender piece of leather connecting the ring to the belt. Liam, crawling up his body, the American actor realizes, and feels his skin flushing again, everything just igniting at the mere proximity, that massive cock hanging between them but not quite touching yet.
He reaches out for it, wanting to feel it again, but Liam just does this thing where he lifts his hips, and his cock, just out of range and leans down to capture Bradley’s mouth again. Liam’s lips on his own again, not asking, not looking for permission, just straight up plundering, taking anything he wants.
And he can have it.
Every ounce of pleasure his unskilled body can possibly offer.
They fall apart, the kiss breaking open, and Liam tugs a little on the harness. “Hands and knees, lad. It’ll be easier that way.”
“For you or me?” he pants out, struggling between the stimulation of the ring and the slick already inside of him from earlier and the heat rolling off Liam’s skin, musky and delicious.
“Both of us,” Liam murmurs in his ear, and slaps his thigh lightly. “Come on, up with you.”
He grins and rolls up, hands and knees, shuffling it all around a little, wondering if this is the way he’s supposed to do this, if he’s doing this right, and then large hands strokes down his spine, neck to cleft. Liam takes a firm grip on that harness, Bradley starting to really love the thing, and then his brains shorts out.
A finger pushes inside him. Rotating. Testing. Plunging deeper and deeper. Almost, almost, catching that spot...
“OhfuckLiam!”
There’s an answering chuckle behind him. “Like that, lad?”
“Y-yeah...”
“Good boy,” and that finger’s gone, pushing down against the grasping muscle as it goes, drawing with it a little whine from Bradley and another laugh from Liam, replaced by a blunt pressure and a breathy little question. “You ready for me, Bradley?”
And here it is. Moment of truth. Time to see if all his hard work the last few weeks is going to pay off.
If he’s going to be able to give Liam a gift of his own.
“Fuck yes,” he groans.
And the pressure starts driving in.
Bradley drops his head, letting it hang, waiting for the burn, waiting for the pain, bracing for it. His body’s fighting, just a bit, not letting the head in, that cock so much bigger than the plug, so much bigger than anything...
“Relax, lad, relax,” Liam murmurs, his accent the sweetest thing that the younger man’s ever heard. A big hand’s rubbing his belly, soothing, warm. “You need me to stop?”
Fuck, no, the American actor thinks, the words shooting through his brain. No, Liam can’t stop. He couldn’t bear it, seeing the disappointment again, hearing the little we can try again tomorrow... no. He’s done this for Liam, he wants Liam to have it. “N-no, please, Liam, don’t stop, d-d-don’t, don’t...”
“Never, lad,” Liam says, and pulls away. “I could never hurt you, Bradley.”
He feels that nudging force gone from his rose, Liam backing away, leaving, leaving him, and his heart’s falling right out of him, completely. He failed, failed, couldn’t do it, couldn’t take it, and he feels himself start slumping in defeat, groaning, body curling back over his heels...
...and that hand that was on his belly’s gripping the harness tight, the forearm sliding around to his side, tickling through the line of hair trailing down from his belly button, and Bradley cranes his neck back over in confusion.
Liam’s leaning low over Bradley’s arching back, his other hand fisting around the base of his own cock, shiny with another application of lube, weeping tip of it pulling up between the younger man’s cheeks, and he nips lightly at a shoulder. “Trust me, lad.”
He can feel his eyes going huge, guessing at what’s coming, but there’s not a thought of hesitation, canting his ass back, offering, begging, needing...
And he gets it. Hard. Fast. Unrelenting.
Bradley can’t help the scream that tears loose from him, the way he tries to buck forward as Liam jams his hips forward, breaching and filling and stretching all in one go. There’s no pause, no relief at all from the long, slick slide, from the strong arm looped around him, and it feels, oh fuck, it feels...
It just feels.
He can hear his own whimpers, high and desperate, body locking up as the immense pressure in his ass pushes deeper and deeper and deeper in, but Liam’s not stopping, not stopping at all, and Bradley suddenly realizes there’s no pain.
None.
Relief floods his entire being and everything shifts, welcoming it all in, and Liam groans gratefully against his neck, and suddenly, impossibly, wonderfully, their thighs are touching.
And Liam’s in. Completely.
It worked.
It actually fucking worked.
And it already feels amazing, that throbbing deep inside, body opening and clenching and shifting, a thousand new sensations every time Liam’s shattered breathing his his overheated skin, taking it, taking all of him...
Then.
“That’s it, Brad,” the Irishman murmurs, licking a hot stripe up his spine. “That’s my brave lad.”
“...Liam...”
“You okay, Bradley?”
“...fuck, Liam, please...”
“Fuck you? Shall I fuck you now, lad?” It’s a pleased, hot purr, and the younger man’s cock is straining with everything it has against its restraint. He’s doing this, his body is doing this, he can, Liam can take him, Liam wants him...
Oh yes, oh yes, oh fuck, yes please.
“You’re beautiful like this, Bradley,” Liam growls, voice frayed from holding back so long, needing something that Bradley realizes he needs too, and they both moan together as the older man pulls out, almost all the way.
And slams right back in.
For the first few strokes, in, out, in, out, quick, real quick, all Bradley can feel is the fullness of it all. The way his body’s taking it. And yeah, it’s still really fucking tight, but his body isn’t protesting. No, no, not that at all.
Conditioned for it. Opening for it. Welcoming it.
Wanting it.
Wanting it the same way Liam wants it, wanting to give in equal measure. Wants all this to be worth it. Wants Liam to love it.
And with that, everything, everything in his mind, everything just seems to blow open and let Liam in. Lets him plunder anything he wants. Nothing’s in his way. Everything’s his for the taking.
“That’s my boy,” Liam growls.
My boy.
Exactly like his fantasy.
So now he’s moaning like a whore.
So now he’s canting his ass up, Liam’s wonderful big hands guiding him exactly where he needs to be to make it good for the older man.
So now he’s pushing back against that immense shaft burying itself in his ass, again and again and again, the wet, wonderful slap of flesh on flesh loud, so loud.
It’s amazing. The most amazing thing he thinks he’s ever felt. Liam driving into him, taking exactly what he wants, delicious sexy sounds tearing loose, his pleasure made audible, made tactile, wrapping around Bradley now, threatening to overwhelm him completely.
And he’s falling to his elbows, arm strength failing under the battering force, the bruising grip, the protestations of his cock he can’t do a goddamn thing about and isn’t worried about right now anyway.
He’s screaming as the next rough thrust hits his prostate dead on.
He’s hearing those dirty words, those you’re loving my cock up your ass, aren’t you, fucking you open, your tight hole, exactly what you were meant for, my beautiful boy, all for me, words, although, the way Liam’s crying out, he could be saying anything.
He’s clamping down with everything he’s got.
He’s spurring Liam on, taking him higher, pushing him up, as Liam gains speed, as Liam’s crying out, as Liam’s rhythm’s falling apart, as Liam’s coming in hot, hot pulses, coating him, filling him, claiming me, Bradley thinks right as they both tumble forward, collapsing, Liam’s hips still jamming forward through the last of it.
His body’s caught between the pleasure of the assault inside of him and jerking, painful restraint of the ring outside, holding his own orgasm back, all of it pushing him somewhere he’s never fucking been before.
And then the world starts to make sense again. He can hear Liam talking, really talking, saying things Liam would say, not things he’d like to hear him say.
“Ah, that was fucking wonderful, lad,” the Irishman moans, and starts pulling slowly out. “Just loose enough. Haven’t bee...”
But the younger man yelps at that, that fullness sliding out, wet and slick and obscenely good. His own cock’s throbbing, leaking, smashed painfully forward under him, the goddamn... “No, no, Liam, please, please, it h-hurts...”
“Oh, fuck,” Liam pants, and drops his head to Bradley’s back, his hand to Bradley’s long-ignored shaft, and it only takes two smooth, practiced pulls, one quick of his softening cock, before the American’s entire body seems to jerk at once, neurons exploding, balls spilling every drop of what they have, the sudden furious climax fighting itself out so fast he’s completely overtaken, outgunned and outmatched, and he’s falling forward into the darkness.
But it’s okay, is Bradley’s last conscious thought.
Liam’s here to catch me.
And he’s gone.
When he comes to, eyes cracking open, breaking through the haze of his still-foggy mind, the first thing Bradley notices is that Liam’s holding him, holding him close, one hand massaging his stomach, the other petting through his hair.
The second thing he notices is that the harness, and the damn cock ring, is all gone. Nothing but salt-sticky skin and...other things between them right now.
The third thing?
“Aww, fuck...” he groans, shifting a little on the sheet. Yeah, it hurts, just a bit. Or maybe a lot. He’s not really sure, because Liam’s smiling at him, ice-blue eyes still so warm. Yeah, no problem. No problem at all.
Because Liam plants a little kiss on his forehead. “You back with the living here, lad? You were out cold for a while...”
“I think we missed the movie.”
“Had a bit more fun being social together, don’t you think?”
“Fucking A...mmphh, hell, didn’t know you could just...” and he changes his mind, stopping himself from the little pass out from coming like that, in case it gives his co-star any more fuel to tease him about the whole innocent-virgin bullshit. Which may be true. But he's trying to change it. Shouldn't there be credit for trying to change that? “That was amazing,” he says instead. “Really, really amazing.”
“Amazing’s not strong enough a word, Bradley,” Liam murmurs back. He sounds exhausted. “Amazing doesn’t begin to cover it. Didn’t hurt you, did I?”
He tries to shake his head, but his body’s not listening to him right now. So he settles for a happy little grunt instead. “Did you like that?”
“Liked that very much. Immensely,” his lover rumbles, and licks a line of sweat off his neck. “Wonderful, being able to do that with you.”
“Is it...is it always like that? With guys?”
Liam shifts, leaning over to grab a blanket and throwing it over them both, letting it fall slowly down, somehow getting both of them into a more comfortable position in the process. Chest to chest, his top hand stroking, both of Bradley’s curled into fists between them. So close, so warm, breath trapped under the muting surface of the fleecy bedding around them. “Rough?”
“Sure, yeah, rough?” Although he was really wondering about the other thing, about the passing out from coming so hard thing. About the way it feels to bottom thing. About the way it feels to bottom for this man, this one, right here. “Always rough?”
“Women are, well, women are different. They want...different things, usually.”
“Men ever want those things?” Bradley asks.
The Irishman chuckles, and kisses him again, this time slow and languid. No tongue, no teeth, no demands. Just a bit of a connection, something to cap off what they just did, pull them back down to earth or something. “We should shower,” he murmurs as he pulls away. “Be easier for you tomorrow. And I should go, in case...”
He presses his head forward, hitting solid shoulder, breathing deep, smelling all the reminders of their night there. Strong. Musky. Somehow...erotic. He doesn’t want to lose that quite yet. “I am comfortable right here, thank you very much.”
“Mmm, are you now?” Liam says softly, fingers working into the space between them, a little wider with Bradley pitched forward now like he is. He catches up the younger man’s closed fist, forcing it open, forcing it into his own, spreading and holding and pulling, pulling Bradley’s arm right over his own shoulder, fingertips scraping the boundary of the blanket around them. “I guess I could have come over, gotten drunk, fallen asleep...” He lets Bradley’s arm fall, much like he did with the blanket, and brings that hand around to rest right above the American’s tailbone, pinkie moving in and out of the very top of his cleft. “Sounds plausible, doesn’t it, lad?”
“Yeah,” is his sleepy agreement, too busy relishing the way they’re flush to each other now to worry about anything else. “Def...”
“Something like this we’ll call a rare treat, then,” Liam tells him.
“The plug or the fucking?” he teases back.
The older actor’s eyes flash. “You won’t need the plug anymore, lad. Don’t worry,” and he reaches out of their little cocoon, going for the lights at the side of the bed, plunging the room into lovely darkness right before snuggling that hand back again Bradley’s ass. “I’ll be keeping those muscles loose for you from now on.”
And Bradley nods. Can’t help it.
There’s no way he’s saying no to that.
Not when Liam’s this happy.
Not ever.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: possible D/s issues...
Summary: A fill for this prompt over at the kink meme
ok, background info. Our lovely napalmedsteak got herself some life-size cutouts of the boys, and there's a ton of discussion on the off-topic thread.
There was some talk about Face's expression, and I kinda suggested that maybe he was wearing.......idk........something.
Link is here if you want to read up: http://community.livejournal.com/ateam_prompts/821.html?thread=5013557#t5013557
So let's have some of your special brand of gorgeousness, hon.
Hannibal or Liam, Face or Bradley.
and a training device.
Early on in their relationship, Liam realizes that Bradley’s not going to be able to take him without some, err, additional help. Fortunately, he’s got just the thing...
“Liam, Liam, oh... oh, oh, fuck, please...”
“More, Brad?”
“I-I...”
“Tell me what you want, lad, just say it. Is it...”
“N-no, p-p-please...please stop...”
And that pressure is instantly, terribly, perfectly gone.
Bradley breathes a sigh of relief, despite himself, despite the way Liam’s sliding off of him, tracing the lines of the younger man’s shoulder with some kind of hesitation that makes him want to throw up. Fuck, what the hell’s wrong with him? He wants this. He asked for this. Sure, it’s only the second time they’ve tried, the first since that one-off two weeks ago, the one where he took Liam, no problem. But tonight, fuck, the pressure, the sensation of being split open and turned inside out damn near unbearable, Liam barely inside at all...
“Are... are you okay, Bradley?” Liam asks, and at the dejected tone he hears there, the American actor turns over, rolling off his belly so he can face is would-be lover.
Liam’s collapsed off to the side, onto his back, one big hand folded under his own head, the other resting heavily on his chest. He’s only half-hard now, and for some reason, that upsets Bradley. A lot.
“Fuck, Liam...” he says, trying to figure out what he can say here, and reaches over for that big hand, attempting without any success to prise it loose. “I’m so, so sorry...”
That almost gets him a chuckle, although he doesn’t like the way that sounds, either. “What are you sorry for? I’m the one who...who’s...”
“It’s just really tight,” Bradley says. Even with all the lube Liam used. Even with the prep. “It’s... I don’t understand it. I took you just fine before.”
“Don’t lie, lad. You were sore for days that first time. I saw how you were...”
"Shouldn't it be easier? Like, hmm, with..."
"It's not like I broke your hymen, Bradley...the muscles do clench back up, lad. Tighter, maybe, now, I don't know." And yeah, Liam still sounds pretty fucking defeated.
It's a terrible, terrible thing.
So Bradley pushes up on his side and gets close, pressing his own reawakening erection back against the big Irishman’s side, wanting him to know exactly how much he wants this. Wants to do this. Wants to be able to do this... for him, his traitorous brain thinks, but the younger man’s not even going to think about entertaining that as a possibility right now. Just... just wants to be able to feel that again, Liam inside him. His own fingers, something Patrick told him about, are wonderful, just don’t compare.
Not at all.
“I didn’t mind,” he admits, hoping it’s seductive enough to get Liam out of his funk. Liam seems to like his voice, which is kind of cool. “I kind of like it, actually. It was like I could feel it all, you know, afterward...”
“Did you now?” And Liam’s on his side too now, head resting on a big hand while the other comes up to pull Bradley closer. “You liked that?”
“Liked? Yeah, it felt like I was all full...” Brad replies and gasps, brain misfiring a bit as one of Liam’s legs snakes over his, bringing their groins together in full, glorious contact. And goddammit, he knows he’s blushing again. Just can’t seem to stop. Fuck, Liam looks at him, and he gets all warm inside, but here, naked and exposed and held like this is so much more. So much more. Almost like... “It was really, really good.”
Liam nods for a second, and closes those gorgeous blue eyes. “Do you want this, Bradley? Do you really, lad?"
It’s whispered against the stubble of his cheek, and the younger man shivers closer, wiggling into that embrace as much as he can. Didn't they already have this conversation? Didn't he already tell Liam that he wants to explore all of this mansex thing? And that means everything. He wants everything. And while Patrick's awesome and Sharlto's dropped his own little hints, it's Liam he wants to guide him through it.
But there's no way to put that into words without ruining their cozy little friendship or whatever. It's just a fling, Cooper, he tells himself, and tries to move around for a kiss that the Irishman expertly dodges. “Yeah, I mean... yeah. Want you... want you to... show me all of this...”
Liam laughs a little, and he’s close enough, pressed chest to chest, to feel those vibrations. “Well, there’s something we could try, if, err, if you’re so inclined.”
Ooh. “Like what?”
“There are ways to make sure you’re able to handle...”
Bradley drops his hand between them and wraps it around Liam’s cock, which is eagerly starting to nudge into his thigh now. “Your gigantic coke can up my... up here?”
“Brat,” the older man growls, and slaps Brad’s hand away, replacing it with his own, those wonderfully strong fingers encircling both of them now. “Yes, there are ways to make sure this fits inside your tight, beautiful body, lad, if you’d like to try...”
“Bring it, old man. I’m up for anything,” he says confidently, arching into that touch.
But Bradley realizes he really might have made a mistake the way Liam starts laughing, really laughing, one of those deep belly laughs that make the younger actor feel all funny inside. He just can’t bring himself to care, though, not the way Liam starts working their cocks against each other, shorting out everything else.
And hell, it can’t be too weird or bizarre.
Right?
Of course not.
+++++
“Liam, what the fuck is that?”
“That, Bradley, is your new best friend.”
Liam looks way too damn pleased with himself, Bradley thinks, and stares at the contraption in front of him, black leather and shiny chrome nestled in a bed of white tissue paper. There’s two more boxes, both wrapped in the same silver ribbons, sitting off to the side, one bigger and one smaller, and he’s a little afraid of what might be in them. Their one day off the shoot for the week, out at some Vancouver hotel, Liam showing up unannounced before he had even woken, those boxes in hand. The remains of breakfast off to the side of the table, and Bradley’s still in his sleep pants. He’s had his morning coffee, but this, this all is throwing him completely for a loop. “No, seriously, what is that?”
“It’s a harness, lad,” and the older actor fingers the arrangement of leather straps, raising it right out of its non-descript black box. “Haven’t you ever seen one of these before?”
He shakes his head, knowing his eyes are probably the size of dinner plates, but he can’t help it. And Liam’s chuckling again, and running his thumb and forefinger around in the wide chrome ring on the end, and Bradley can’t tear his eyes away. “That’s a cock ring, right?”
“Yes, Bradley, that’s a cock ring.”
“What... what’s it there for?”
Liam doesn’t laugh at him, not this time, but turns the thing around to a wider section of the leather, rubbing it between his palms experimentally, and the younger actor realizes he’s inspecting the damn... harness...thing. “Why don’t you open the other two?”
Bradley goes for the smaller one first. It’s a giant tube of lubricant, and that’s something Patrick and Liam have told him about.
“It’s a good quality one, lad, won’t dry out or absorb too quickly,” Liam says, tugging on the thing a little now. “Open the other one.”
It’s the tone Liam uses when he’s giving Joe some kind of suggestion about what he’d like to see in a certain scene. Not the voice you argue with, no matter how soft it sounds. And, face flaming, Bradley complies.
He’s expecting to be shocked, but instead? Instead, he’s just confused.
Liam’s looking at him expectantly. “Don’t tell me I have to explain what this one is for.”
“I think you might,” he replies. It’s a set of little cylinders, four of them, bulging in the middle, tapering a bit towards the top and flaring out flat at the bottom. Hard. Metal, aluminum or something, coated in a springy layer of silicone, very lightweight and very, very black. The first isn’t much longer than three inches, maybe an inch and a half at the widest point. But the biggest one is about five inches long, and almost three at the round. “What is...”
The older man drops the harness back in its box and slides around Bradley, covering his back with his own broad chest and dropping his chin onto the American’s shoulder. One of those big hands picks up the smallest, and turns it around and around, while the other hand drops inside the waistband of his soft cotton pants. “This, lad, is a buttplug.” A finger presses against his entrance. “And it goes right in here.”
Bradley makes a strangled little yelp, either from the touch of Liam’s index finger or the words he just uttered. “It...wait, what?”
Liam kisses his neck, low and almost biting. “It goes up inside of you, Bradley. Slides right in. You’ll love the way it feels, lad...”
“And the, the harness?” he asks, trying to remember how to breath.
“Holds it in place.”
“Of course it does.”
And Liam turns him around at that, pushing him away a little, wrists to shoulders, and Bradley can feel the smallest buttplug dangling down against his back. There’s a hint of concern in those blue eyes. “You wear it for a few hours at a time at first, then work up to longer periods and the bigger sizes. It’ll help stretch you out, and you’ll... this... this is the way this works, Bradley, but if you’re not comfortable with it...”
The younger actor glances over his shoulder at the present - because there’s no other word for this - and then back to Liam, who’s smiling gently at him. If this is how he gets himself ready... “I’m, I, I want to try, Liam, I do. I just... I feel like a fucking novice, not knowing about any of this,” he replies, swallowing hard.
Liam doesn’t seem to care about his little admission, though. Draws him in to a big bear hug. “What did Joe call you that one time? A choirboy?”
“I’m not that naive!” he protests without any heat.
“Oh, but you are, lad,” and a big hand smooths down the fine hairs along his neck. “You’re a very sweet, very innocent, very pretty...”
Bradley grins back and hits Liam square in the chest. “Okay, okay, you’ve made your point, Neeson. Show me how this little set up works?”
“You sure, lad?”
“It’ll help me take...” but he has to bite his tongue before he says take you like a damn lovesick teenager, and what’s that about anyway?
“Yes, lad, it’ll help you take a man,” Liam practically purrs in his ear. “Take him without pain, however you’d like it...”
“Sounds good,” he says. “Can we... can I try it out?”
And at that, the older actor lets him go, moving back to the table and the harness and everything, gathering his selected pieces into the biggest box and nods back towards the bed. “Strip down,” he orders gently, walking over to it. “Shirt too.”
Bradley slowly pulls his sleep clothes off, shirt and pants, something shamefully, gloriously erotic about undressing like this, for this. But he braces himself, tossing the clothes away as he follows Liam over to the bed to stand uncertain at the edge.
The Irishman’s already sitting down, carefully uncapping the lube, and he pats the rumpled sheets next to him. “Face down, lad.”
“Are you sure this isn’t going to hurt, Liam?” he asks as he lays downs and digs his body down into the cool cotton, hating himself for how whiny it sounds. But his co-star just rubs the small of his back reassuringly.
“It’s going to be fine, lad. Now, I’m just going to slick you up a bit,” he says, and a cool, lubed finger trails down between his cheeks, into his cleft, right over his hole. “Good so far?”
“I, uhmph,” Bradley moans, that finger slipping inside of him. There’s some pushing, a little bit of wriggling, but nothing too much. A lot of slick, though. A lot of slick. And he feels himself getting hard. “I’m not going to break, Liam.”
“Shh, Brad. Let me do this first time, okay? Then we’ll go over how you do it yourself...”
“What do you mean, how I do it myself?”
Liam’s hand is there, smoothing down the inside of his thighs, across his ass, and Bradley can hear more slick being squeezed out. He cranes his neck, and there’s Liam, rubbing the stuff across shining black, a bulge definitely visible in his own jeans. “It’s something you’ll have to do every day, lad, if you want it to work right. Like I said, remember?”
“Oh, yeah, right...” he mumbles, hot everywhere, and he hides his face in a pillow. “You're not going to do it for me?”
There's a pause, and Bradley realizes how that must have sounded. Fuck, really, did he really just say that? Damn.
"Only if you want me to," Liam finally says. "But you should be able to get it after this." He feels his cheeks being spread and the blunt tip of the plug is right there. “Now don’t fight me on this, Brad. Take a deep breath... okay, now, exhale...” and on the exhale, Liam starts slowly working the three-inch plug into him.
It’s different than a cock or his fingers, Bradley realizes. It’s colder, for one, and unyielding. But there’s still something about it, not unbearable, almost good, definitely good, so different and so wonderful and it’s Liam’s hand, Liam, who’s pushing this thing into him, Liam...
And he yelps a little in surprise as Liam rotates it, just a bit, and there’s a sheepish little laugh behind him. “Sorry, lad, couldn’t resist. You just look, you look, it’s... you’re just taking that so well.”
“No, no, Liam, it’s fine,” he pants. “Can you... can you do that again?”
Liam chuckles and moves the plug again, a little harder this time, a little faster, and Bradley feels his ass canting up in the air of its own accord. It’s all too much, really too much, and he moves his own hand back to fist his cock but, once again, Liam slaps it away.
“Allow me, lad,” he growls, and Bradley hears a faint unzipping, right before the older man’s cock slips right between his cheeks. That added pressure pushes the buttplug deeper, and a fist closes down around his own cock. It’s definitely too much stimulation now, and the American actor feels himself gasping through his orgasm as Liam locks up and shudders against his back, hot semen shooting across heated skin, quick and dirty and Bradley falls down into the sheets again, groaning. And then Liam’s gone and he’s alone.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s thinking that this is shameful, that he should be ashamed, playing around in some Canadian hotel room, sex toys and an older man and Liam thinks he’s so innocent, but he knows what a submissive is, and does this make him one? What does any of this mean?
“How’s it feel?” Liam asks, coming back and wiping him down with a warm, damp cloth. “Good?”
“Good,” he sighs back, not giving a shit what the hell this says about him. Liam’s safe. He knows that much. He’s safe with Liam. And that’s more than enough. It’s not like he’s doing this for any other reason than to have some regular, awesome, gay sex anyway. Totally fine. Nothing weird about this at all. “Feels really damn good, Liam. Feels really full.”
“Glad to hear it, Brad.” The washcloth slides underneath him, wiping his release off, skin soft and cool again. “Kneel up, lad. We need to get the harness on.”
“But...”
“Come on, Bradley, just kneel up. It’s okay, you can move with it.” Liam chuckles, and helps him up. “That’s the whole idea.”
“Right, yeah,” he groans, feeling the thing shift inside of him as he settles into a new position. “I knew that.”
Liam chuckles again, and Bradley looks down to see the black leather being strapped around his waist. It’s really thin. Obviously made to be hidden under clothes.
Is he going to have to wear this under his actual clothes? Not just at night or something?
“You want it right here,” Liam says, seemingly ignorant of the sudden thoughts Bradley’s having of having this thing on, inside him, nobody but the two of them knowing about it. “Right over your hips. And then this crosspiece needs to be just so.”
There’s a strap that falls down, right below his bellybutton, a short thing that clips over one end of the cock ring, and Liam grins in front of him as dexterous fingers slide the metal around him, snugging tight. The older man hasn’t even bothered to pull himself back together, that huge cock hanging out of his jeans, starting to harden again, and Bradley can’t stop staring at it. “Wouldn’t want you coming randomly on the set, now would we?”
Bradley groans at the thought. Answers that question, then. “No, no, that would be bad...”
“Exactly. So, protection.”
There’s another set of straps that hang down in the back, that wide piece of leather hitting him right over his ass, and Liam moves around, doing something with the buttplug that changes the angle a little. He ooks up the strap hanging down from this piece to the ring, tugging his cock down a little.. “The base of the plug snaps into this piece right here to keep the plug in place. That feel okay?”
“Yeah, a little weird, but okay,” Bradley replies as Liam fusses over the lengths and tensions and buckles and somehow seems to get it all right, everything sliding into place, everything just tight and just loose enough.
“You sure?” Liam asks.
He nods again. “It feels weird but...” and he moves his hips a bit, feeling the plug move a little inside of him, sending a bolt of pleasure straight through him, the cock ring just holding him back. “It feels kind of good.”
And to his surprise, the older man crawls back around on the bed and tackles him down, kissing him deeply, leaving him absolutely breathless and ragged as Liam rolls off of him and finally tucks and zips. “Good,” he says and pushes lightly off the bed. “I’m glad to hear it. Now come on, lad, get dressed.”
“Dressed? Why?”
Liam grins at him. “We’re going to go get coffee.”
Bradley feels himself quail. “What?”
“You need to wear it for an hour, at least, and I’m not sitting around your hotel room whilst the minutes tick by.”
“Liam!”
“Come on, Cooper,” Liam says, and holds out his hands again. “You and me, we’ll get a coffee, walk around, let you get used it,” and his voice drops, “the only two people in the world who know the sexiest man in America’s wearing a plug under his clothes...”
His cock twitches again, too fast for the ring to catch, and fuck rationale for any of this. It really is a delicious idea. “You’re on, Neeson,” he groans, and manages to get himself off the bed, the plug shifting deliciously. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“We do that plug... sex... thing again, before you take it out.”
It’s Liam’s turn to groan, but he tries to cover it, Bradley notices with a happy smirk, by tossing him his pants off the back of the chair he threw them on last night. “There will most certainly be more of that, brat...”
He smiles and tugs his jeans on. Screw underwear. Liam’s going to pay for this. And judging from the way the older man stares as he wriggles them back over his hips, the waistband just concealing the thin leather, Bradley figures this was the right call. “You’re on, old guy.”
They’re both still laughing as they leave the room.
Liam plays with the plug again in the elevator to the way to the lobby.
+++++
The first few days, Liam tells Brad he only needs to do this for a couple of hours. So he does it at night, his co-star usually coming over to help get it set up. And maybe they’ll watch a movie or talk or something like that, usually ending in make-out sessions on the couch like they’re seventeen again. Or blowjobs. Blowjobs are good - Bradley’s discovering he actually likes giving them.
It’s all okay, too. Liam seems absolutely fascinated by the entire thing, inserting and playing and removing again. The younger actor lets him, lets him do whatever he wants, because it always feels good and he loves that smile, that secret little smile, that steals over his face whenever he gets to touch it.
“You ready for this one?” Liam asks him on Friday, holding up the next plug. About four inches, fatter and definitely wider at the base.
It’s felt so good so far... so Bradley nods, and in it goes. More stretch, yeah, but with that is so, so much more sensation.
And later, as Liam’s moving it around inside on him, his own hand wrapped around the older man’s cock, the two of them bringing each other to sweaty, wonderful orgasm, he figures this is a pretty damn good thing right here. That this is something he could definitely get used to.
He doesn’t want this to go on forever, though. He does want to get to the good part. Wants to feel Liam again, the friction and nubbiness of living flesh instead of indifferent silicone and metal. So Bradley starts wearing it for longer and longer periods of time, having to venture into day hours sometimes, although there’s no good way to explain this to the costume people, and trying to run with it in is just out, so he has to pick and choose his time. Sometimes, he’ll get done with the day, completely exhausted, but he makes sure to get it in before he goes to bed or whatever it takes.
Whatever it takes.
He’s in the third one by day twelve, maybe moving a little aggressively, but Liam only chuckles and pulls him down to the bed and twists it around inside of him until his eyes roll back into his head. Fucking wonderful.
But this morning there’s no Liam yet, no supervision. Nobody prying at all. It’s the weekend and it’s his day and he’s going to fucking make the most of it.
The largest plug is still waiting for its turn. It’s bigger, nearly six inches, almost two and a half at the base, and while it’s not quite as big as Liam is, it’s going to have to do. It’s probably too soone, but he really doesn’t care. Not right now. He caught a glimpse of naked Liam yesterday, in his trailer as the other man was changing for another of the cast’s bar nights, and he hasn’t been able to shake it.
He wants to feel it again. He really, really does.
Bradley takes it reverently out of the box, along with a second thing of lube Liam bought him after the first ran out, staring at it, just a little. It’s conical, but wide at the base and tip alike. All smooth black, untouched and unspoilt, and it’s with a slow hand that Face slicks it up.
He lubes a finger and runs it inside of himself. Oh yeah, he’s not nearly as tight as he had been. Looser. Much looser. Patrick, who was somehow able to discern the second he walked on set with the harness on, warned him that there can be consequences for a too-loose sphincter muscle down here, but admitted that this probably wasn’t going to do anything too horrific, that he wasn’t really in the demographic that might normally experience that. But either way, Bradley really does not care.
He wants Liam too goddamn bad to worry about anything else right now.
He kneels down on the bed, on hand and knees, his right forefinger and thumb guiding the device straight into him, tensing up automatically at the extra girth forces the muscles wide. Bradley grits his teeth and forces himself to relax, breathing out, and tries to think about why he’s doing this, about Liam’s massive cock, about how fucking good it’s going to feel to have that again, about how happy it’s going to make the older man. He’d been so worried, so depressed...
Thinking about that, the look that’s going to spread over the other man’s face when it’s his finger slipping inside of him. When he’s able to line up and push in and take him again...
All that heat flares up in Bradley, thinking about Liam taking him, and the plug slips in, all the way, that ring of muscle opening wide and taking in the thickest bit of the base.
He moans. Because in his mind’s eye, it’s Liam who did it.
No, wait, even better.
It’s Liam who’s inside of him.
You’re so tight, lad. I’m not hurting you, am I?
“No, no Liam,” he moans, taking a harder grip on the square base of the plug. Bradley knows he really should get the harness on, put it on and get on with his morning, but he just can’t. The erotic sensations of being filled like this are coursing through his body with every beat of his heart, and then as he twists, the actor feel his arousal start to soar. “You aren’t hurting me.”
God, feels so good, being buried in you...
He pulls the plug out a little, popping the wide flare of the base out, savoring the feeling of that smooth, hard length gliding out. “Please, Liam, please fuck me...”
You never have to beg me, lad. Tell me what you need...
“Need you, need you,” he gasps, face falling into the bed, and can almost feel one of those big, wonderful hands brace on his upturned hips as he pushes the plug back in. It’s Liam, though, that length in him now, Liam fucking him, Liam... just Liam...
Like that, lad? Is that what you need?
“F-f-faster, Liam, god...”
His hand speeds up with the plug, thrusting it in and out, gasping every time that flared base pops out, easier and smoother every time, Liam pumping in and out of him, head thrown back, breath coming in ragged gasps. Bradley tries to get a hand around his cock, but he can’t, not like this, and Liam slaps it away anyway, growling that wonderful accent in his ear that you’re going to come on my cock, Bradley, or you’re not going to come at all...
He’s groaning now, with every snap of Liam’s hips, every slide, so slick and deep, changing the angle until he finds his prostate and sticks with that, Liam taking such good care of him, Liam wanting it to be good for him, Liam so pleased, so pleased with him...
Look at you, my beautiful boy, such a good boy, doing all of this just for me...
And that does him in completely.
Brad jams the plug in hard, and pitches forward, balls pulling up, spilling himself in hard, hot spurts, milking the last few drops of pearly white fluid with a trembling hand. Completely ruining the sheets, he thinks with a tired giggle, and rolls off to the side, avoiding the wet spot he just put there.
“Okay,” he tells himself, feeling his heart slow, feeling that inflexible, undeniable six inch length deep inside of him, tight, all those little interior muscles clenching around it. “Okay, okay, we can do this.”
Just a few more days. Just a few more days. In a few days, he’ll be able to give this all to Liam again without the older man feeling guilty about it.
And as he gets everything hooked up, Bradley steadfastly refuses to think about why he’s thinking about being Liam’s boy. Stops all of that. It would be nice. It really would be. But they’re just having some fun. Nothing more to it...
Look at you... he hears again, and smiles as he tugs a shirt on.
Maybe his co-star’s up for coffee again this morning.
+++++
It’s going to be his fourth evening with largest plug in, the one he’s jokingly been calling Zeus, but only to himself. And Bradley squints at it a little, trying to imagine how much longer, thicker, Liam is. Significantly, he knows, and goes for the lube.
He really, really hopes this is going to be enough.
It’s been a weird few weeks with the set, and no more so than that first morning with Zeusy here in.
Bradley had wondered if he was walking a little funny, the way Liam looked at him as he sidled up to where the Irishman was sipping tea and reading, down in the lobby of the hotel. The book had been put aside the second Bradley plunked himself down on the other end of the sofa, not where he’d wanted to be, but close enough. Close as he could get in public, anyway.
Liam had just stared at him, a little smile playing over his handsome features, and Bradley knew he lost whatever game was being played when he blushed and looked away.
“Moved on up, have we lad?” the older actor had asked smoothly.
“Yeah, err, yeah...” he’d replied lamely, and dared to scoot a little closer. Close enough to feel body heat. “Is that... is that a problem?”
Liam cocked his head, and that smile had spread. “Eager, are we?”
“Well, yeah, I mean, it’s all more fun once it gets to the point where...”
“Smells like you’re having plenty of fun as it is,” the older actor had grinned, and Bradley, right then and there, wanted the earth to open up and swallow him whole. But he had to settle for a nervous little laugh that was soon overridden by Liam’s much, much louder explosion of mirth.
“Fuck, Liam...” he’d groaned, and Liam had clapped him on the back and stood, gesturing that he should do the same.
“Let’s go get your latte, Bradley,” he’d announced, and then, in a softer voice, brushing past him, “and you are going to have to show me how you did one of these days.”
Well, Bradley thinks now, not tonight. Tonight they’re supposed to be hanging out in Rampage’s room, watching a movie or something. Sharlto’s been very excited about it. All. Day. And he’s supposed to be up there in a few minutes, so he doesn’t have time to have fun with it again, to fantasize about...
There’s a knock at his door, though, and Bradley stuffs the slick plug under his pillow and hastily pulls his pants back up, tucking the open, unhooked harness back into his pants where it’s cinched up around his waist, and goes to answer it. Shit, he thinks, wiping his shiny fingers on the inside of a pocket, it sure as hell better not be Patrick, he doesn’t want to have to expla...
Oh. No.
Not Patrick.
Better.
He slides the chain of its slot and opens up, stepping aside automatically as Liam strides easily in to his room, looks around, and then smiles at Bradley as he closes the door again.
“Ready to head up, lad?”
Bradley feels that goddamn, uncontrollable heat start spreading again, starting at his groin, where he’s already got the cockring in place. “I, uh, I’m not quite...” and he looks over his shoulder, feeling a wee bit helpless. Just being near Liam... the man’s completely overwhelming, towering over him, a vast presence, and there’s something sinful about that light cologne he always wears...
“Brad?”
He shakes himself out of his little reverie. Last thing he needs is to get caught fangirling the older actor. Again. “I... I don’t have it in yet, no. If you’d give me a minute...”
Liam’s hand settles on his hip as he tries to turn and head back to his bed. “Need some help with that tonight, lad?”
Godyespleasepleaseplease his brain screams, but the only thing Brad lets himself do is just nod.
Just once.
“Lead the way,” Liam murmurs, and damn if that all doesn’t just send goosebumps scattering everywhere.
Bradley knows the plug, all slicked up like it is, is going to be a problem, but the way Liam doubles over laughing when he has to peel it off the pillow doesn’t do anything to calm his oddly flustered nerves.
Pull it together, Cooper, he orders himself to no effect. It’s not like Liam hasn’t done this for you before.
Still chuckling, Liam wraps a hand around the younger man’s hips and pulls them both into the bathroom, turning on the sink. “It’s okay, calm down, but your face at that was just...” he says, obviously trying to hold back his mirth as he gets a washcloth to wipe spoiled slick off the springy black surface.
“You can say it,” Bradley groans.
“...fucking hilarious,” Liam says, and breaks down into a fresh round of laughter, leaning against the edge of the hotel room sink, chortling uncontrollably. And yeah, Bradley thinks, a small smile breaking out on his own face, it was kind of funny, the way it just stuck like that...
“Okay, okay, enough of that,” the Irishman says, grinning, and nods to the American as he gets a handful of soap and starts washing the thing off. “Pants down, lad. Lets get you all set up.”
Bradley moves down a bit and unzips his jeans, noticing Liam’s eyes following his movements in the mirror, and goes a little slower than he strictly needs to.
“Cocktease,” the older man says, and it’s heated. Bradley figures that must be because he’s got the main loop of the harness, the cockring, already snugged in place.
It helps his self-confidence tremendously, seeing that reaction, the way Liam’s pants start tenting, and he bites his lip in what he hopes is a sexy way. He hands over the lube, which he grabbed along with the buttplug. “You love it.”
“Aye, lad, something about you...” Liam replies, voice lowering a register, and Bradley wonders if the older man’s been dreaming about the same thing. If he’s been fantasizing about how this is going to feel, when Brad’s uncooperative body finally falls into line and does what they’re asking it to do. If Liam’s been jacking off at night to the thought of him, like he’s been doing at the thought of the Irishman.
The younger actor turns around and braces his hands on the edge of the counter without being prompted, watching Liam in the mirror, slotting around behind him, circling his belly with the plug, clenched in the fingers of one big hand, a wonderful big hand, the plug’s base cool against his skin, as the hand other palms his ass. “You been making sure to slick yourself up before putting this in, lad?”
He nods. “Y-yeah...”
“I think I should check anyway, don’t you think?”
He nods again, and Liam’s hand pulls back on his belly even as he slips two fingers straight in.
And they both groan as Bradley’s body offers absolutely no resistance to that.
Those two long fingers, so much better than the plug or even his own, rotating slightly, thrusting. Testing. And Bradley inhales, slow.
“How’s that feel, lad? Think this is going to go back in just fine?”
Oh, right, the plug. He’d forgotten about little Zeusy there. “Yeah, sure, uhh, Liam, yeah, it feels...”
Over his shoulder, in the glass in front of him, Bradley can see the older man smiling blandly, and then he arches back, breathing, heartbeat suddenly skyrocketing, cock fighting against the steel of the ring. Because Liam pushes in with a third finger and fucking spreads. “How about that?” Liam growls, head dropping, rough chin rubbing up the younger actor’s neck. “What about that, lad?”
“F-feels...feels so...” and then Bradley whines high in his throat, as those fingers are gone and he’s being thrown around, hobbled by his jeans, landing hard on his spine against the other wall. One of Liam’s hands lands down, right next to his ear.
His lips move in close, murmuring those words so close that the American thinks he absorbs them through his skin rather than with his ears. “Feels so what, lad?”
“Feels... feels so,” he pants, staring down at the leather strap around his waist, the ring tight around his cock, the pressure building, being held back. Then he looks up, meeting Liam’s need-blown eyes with his own. “Feels so goddamn amazing.”
And then a big hand curls around the harness’ belt section, yanking him in for a hard, hard kiss.
The forceful grip on one of his biceps, the way the leather’s digging into his skin, just a bit now, Rough, probing tongue, hard hands, hard body, smashing his into the wall...
It catches him completely by surprise, this raw aggressiveness, pure animalistic need. He's not sure if he’s feeling fear or lust right now. He’s had rough sex with women before, but never on the receiving end, and never with anyone quite like Liam...
He gasps, shudders, and those lips move down his jaw, right over his pulse.
Oh yeah. He can do this.
“You ready, lad?” Liam growls, sucking a little on his neck now, not quite hard enough to bruise. He runs a hand between them, all the way up to the younger man’s throat, holding, careful, right under his chin. “You think you can handle it?”
Never with this much preparation. Never with this much forethought. And sure, it’s kind of new, it’s all way new, but Liam wants this. He can hear it in his voice. And Bradley oh so wants Liam to be happy. Anything. Right now, he’s prepared to give Liam anything. “I’ll handle anything you’ve got, Neeson.”
The smile that breaks across the older actor’s face is blinding hot. “We’ll see about that, Cooper.”
Liam tears that hand from Bradley’s throat, right down the front of his soft plaid collared shirt, ripping seams and popping buttons, tearing it, the younger man fighting to get the damn thing off as Liam leads him from the bathroom by the belt of the harness.
They end up tumbling down together on the bed, messing it up even more, scattering the covers and pillows until it’s just a single naked sheet beneath Bradley’s naked ass.
His cock is painfully tight in that ring.
Liam is dragging his own soft white sweater up over his own head, blue eyes heated and narrow, focused, and Bradley realizes he was wrong.
His cock is fighting with everything it’s got against the immutable steel around it, and somehow, that’s only sending his arousal higher and higher and higher.
The older man slides his pants off his hips, shoving his boxer briefs, dark gray against his lightly tanned skin, a knee coming to rest right down by Bradley’s hip, a hand resting on the slender piece of leather connecting the ring to the belt. Liam, crawling up his body, the American actor realizes, and feels his skin flushing again, everything just igniting at the mere proximity, that massive cock hanging between them but not quite touching yet.
He reaches out for it, wanting to feel it again, but Liam just does this thing where he lifts his hips, and his cock, just out of range and leans down to capture Bradley’s mouth again. Liam’s lips on his own again, not asking, not looking for permission, just straight up plundering, taking anything he wants.
And he can have it.
Every ounce of pleasure his unskilled body can possibly offer.
They fall apart, the kiss breaking open, and Liam tugs a little on the harness. “Hands and knees, lad. It’ll be easier that way.”
“For you or me?” he pants out, struggling between the stimulation of the ring and the slick already inside of him from earlier and the heat rolling off Liam’s skin, musky and delicious.
“Both of us,” Liam murmurs in his ear, and slaps his thigh lightly. “Come on, up with you.”
He grins and rolls up, hands and knees, shuffling it all around a little, wondering if this is the way he’s supposed to do this, if he’s doing this right, and then large hands strokes down his spine, neck to cleft. Liam takes a firm grip on that harness, Bradley starting to really love the thing, and then his brains shorts out.
A finger pushes inside him. Rotating. Testing. Plunging deeper and deeper. Almost, almost, catching that spot...
“OhfuckLiam!”
There’s an answering chuckle behind him. “Like that, lad?”
“Y-yeah...”
“Good boy,” and that finger’s gone, pushing down against the grasping muscle as it goes, drawing with it a little whine from Bradley and another laugh from Liam, replaced by a blunt pressure and a breathy little question. “You ready for me, Bradley?”
And here it is. Moment of truth. Time to see if all his hard work the last few weeks is going to pay off.
If he’s going to be able to give Liam a gift of his own.
“Fuck yes,” he groans.
And the pressure starts driving in.
Bradley drops his head, letting it hang, waiting for the burn, waiting for the pain, bracing for it. His body’s fighting, just a bit, not letting the head in, that cock so much bigger than the plug, so much bigger than anything...
“Relax, lad, relax,” Liam murmurs, his accent the sweetest thing that the younger man’s ever heard. A big hand’s rubbing his belly, soothing, warm. “You need me to stop?”
Fuck, no, the American actor thinks, the words shooting through his brain. No, Liam can’t stop. He couldn’t bear it, seeing the disappointment again, hearing the little we can try again tomorrow... no. He’s done this for Liam, he wants Liam to have it. “N-no, please, Liam, don’t stop, d-d-don’t, don’t...”
“Never, lad,” Liam says, and pulls away. “I could never hurt you, Bradley.”
He feels that nudging force gone from his rose, Liam backing away, leaving, leaving him, and his heart’s falling right out of him, completely. He failed, failed, couldn’t do it, couldn’t take it, and he feels himself start slumping in defeat, groaning, body curling back over his heels...
...and that hand that was on his belly’s gripping the harness tight, the forearm sliding around to his side, tickling through the line of hair trailing down from his belly button, and Bradley cranes his neck back over in confusion.
Liam’s leaning low over Bradley’s arching back, his other hand fisting around the base of his own cock, shiny with another application of lube, weeping tip of it pulling up between the younger man’s cheeks, and he nips lightly at a shoulder. “Trust me, lad.”
He can feel his eyes going huge, guessing at what’s coming, but there’s not a thought of hesitation, canting his ass back, offering, begging, needing...
And he gets it. Hard. Fast. Unrelenting.
Bradley can’t help the scream that tears loose from him, the way he tries to buck forward as Liam jams his hips forward, breaching and filling and stretching all in one go. There’s no pause, no relief at all from the long, slick slide, from the strong arm looped around him, and it feels, oh fuck, it feels...
It just feels.
He can hear his own whimpers, high and desperate, body locking up as the immense pressure in his ass pushes deeper and deeper and deeper in, but Liam’s not stopping, not stopping at all, and Bradley suddenly realizes there’s no pain.
None.
Relief floods his entire being and everything shifts, welcoming it all in, and Liam groans gratefully against his neck, and suddenly, impossibly, wonderfully, their thighs are touching.
And Liam’s in. Completely.
It worked.
It actually fucking worked.
And it already feels amazing, that throbbing deep inside, body opening and clenching and shifting, a thousand new sensations every time Liam’s shattered breathing his his overheated skin, taking it, taking all of him...
Then.
“That’s it, Brad,” the Irishman murmurs, licking a hot stripe up his spine. “That’s my brave lad.”
“...Liam...”
“You okay, Bradley?”
“...fuck, Liam, please...”
“Fuck you? Shall I fuck you now, lad?” It’s a pleased, hot purr, and the younger man’s cock is straining with everything it has against its restraint. He’s doing this, his body is doing this, he can, Liam can take him, Liam wants him...
Oh yes, oh yes, oh fuck, yes please.
“You’re beautiful like this, Bradley,” Liam growls, voice frayed from holding back so long, needing something that Bradley realizes he needs too, and they both moan together as the older man pulls out, almost all the way.
And slams right back in.
For the first few strokes, in, out, in, out, quick, real quick, all Bradley can feel is the fullness of it all. The way his body’s taking it. And yeah, it’s still really fucking tight, but his body isn’t protesting. No, no, not that at all.
Conditioned for it. Opening for it. Welcoming it.
Wanting it.
Wanting it the same way Liam wants it, wanting to give in equal measure. Wants all this to be worth it. Wants Liam to love it.
And with that, everything, everything in his mind, everything just seems to blow open and let Liam in. Lets him plunder anything he wants. Nothing’s in his way. Everything’s his for the taking.
“That’s my boy,” Liam growls.
My boy.
Exactly like his fantasy.
So now he’s moaning like a whore.
So now he’s canting his ass up, Liam’s wonderful big hands guiding him exactly where he needs to be to make it good for the older man.
So now he’s pushing back against that immense shaft burying itself in his ass, again and again and again, the wet, wonderful slap of flesh on flesh loud, so loud.
It’s amazing. The most amazing thing he thinks he’s ever felt. Liam driving into him, taking exactly what he wants, delicious sexy sounds tearing loose, his pleasure made audible, made tactile, wrapping around Bradley now, threatening to overwhelm him completely.
And he’s falling to his elbows, arm strength failing under the battering force, the bruising grip, the protestations of his cock he can’t do a goddamn thing about and isn’t worried about right now anyway.
He’s screaming as the next rough thrust hits his prostate dead on.
He’s hearing those dirty words, those you’re loving my cock up your ass, aren’t you, fucking you open, your tight hole, exactly what you were meant for, my beautiful boy, all for me, words, although, the way Liam’s crying out, he could be saying anything.
He’s clamping down with everything he’s got.
He’s spurring Liam on, taking him higher, pushing him up, as Liam gains speed, as Liam’s crying out, as Liam’s rhythm’s falling apart, as Liam’s coming in hot, hot pulses, coating him, filling him, claiming me, Bradley thinks right as they both tumble forward, collapsing, Liam’s hips still jamming forward through the last of it.
His body’s caught between the pleasure of the assault inside of him and jerking, painful restraint of the ring outside, holding his own orgasm back, all of it pushing him somewhere he’s never fucking been before.
And then the world starts to make sense again. He can hear Liam talking, really talking, saying things Liam would say, not things he’d like to hear him say.
“Ah, that was fucking wonderful, lad,” the Irishman moans, and starts pulling slowly out. “Just loose enough. Haven’t bee...”
But the younger man yelps at that, that fullness sliding out, wet and slick and obscenely good. His own cock’s throbbing, leaking, smashed painfully forward under him, the goddamn... “No, no, Liam, please, please, it h-hurts...”
“Oh, fuck,” Liam pants, and drops his head to Bradley’s back, his hand to Bradley’s long-ignored shaft, and it only takes two smooth, practiced pulls, one quick of his softening cock, before the American’s entire body seems to jerk at once, neurons exploding, balls spilling every drop of what they have, the sudden furious climax fighting itself out so fast he’s completely overtaken, outgunned and outmatched, and he’s falling forward into the darkness.
But it’s okay, is Bradley’s last conscious thought.
Liam’s here to catch me.
And he’s gone.
When he comes to, eyes cracking open, breaking through the haze of his still-foggy mind, the first thing Bradley notices is that Liam’s holding him, holding him close, one hand massaging his stomach, the other petting through his hair.
The second thing he notices is that the harness, and the damn cock ring, is all gone. Nothing but salt-sticky skin and...other things between them right now.
The third thing?
“Aww, fuck...” he groans, shifting a little on the sheet. Yeah, it hurts, just a bit. Or maybe a lot. He’s not really sure, because Liam’s smiling at him, ice-blue eyes still so warm. Yeah, no problem. No problem at all.
Because Liam plants a little kiss on his forehead. “You back with the living here, lad? You were out cold for a while...”
“I think we missed the movie.”
“Had a bit more fun being social together, don’t you think?”
“Fucking A...mmphh, hell, didn’t know you could just...” and he changes his mind, stopping himself from the little pass out from coming like that, in case it gives his co-star any more fuel to tease him about the whole innocent-virgin bullshit. Which may be true. But he's trying to change it. Shouldn't there be credit for trying to change that? “That was amazing,” he says instead. “Really, really amazing.”
“Amazing’s not strong enough a word, Bradley,” Liam murmurs back. He sounds exhausted. “Amazing doesn’t begin to cover it. Didn’t hurt you, did I?”
He tries to shake his head, but his body’s not listening to him right now. So he settles for a happy little grunt instead. “Did you like that?”
“Liked that very much. Immensely,” his lover rumbles, and licks a line of sweat off his neck. “Wonderful, being able to do that with you.”
“Is it...is it always like that? With guys?”
Liam shifts, leaning over to grab a blanket and throwing it over them both, letting it fall slowly down, somehow getting both of them into a more comfortable position in the process. Chest to chest, his top hand stroking, both of Bradley’s curled into fists between them. So close, so warm, breath trapped under the muting surface of the fleecy bedding around them. “Rough?”
“Sure, yeah, rough?” Although he was really wondering about the other thing, about the passing out from coming so hard thing. About the way it feels to bottom thing. About the way it feels to bottom for this man, this one, right here. “Always rough?”
“Women are, well, women are different. They want...different things, usually.”
“Men ever want those things?” Bradley asks.
The Irishman chuckles, and kisses him again, this time slow and languid. No tongue, no teeth, no demands. Just a bit of a connection, something to cap off what they just did, pull them back down to earth or something. “We should shower,” he murmurs as he pulls away. “Be easier for you tomorrow. And I should go, in case...”
He presses his head forward, hitting solid shoulder, breathing deep, smelling all the reminders of their night there. Strong. Musky. Somehow...erotic. He doesn’t want to lose that quite yet. “I am comfortable right here, thank you very much.”
“Mmm, are you now?” Liam says softly, fingers working into the space between them, a little wider with Bradley pitched forward now like he is. He catches up the younger man’s closed fist, forcing it open, forcing it into his own, spreading and holding and pulling, pulling Bradley’s arm right over his own shoulder, fingertips scraping the boundary of the blanket around them. “I guess I could have come over, gotten drunk, fallen asleep...” He lets Bradley’s arm fall, much like he did with the blanket, and brings that hand around to rest right above the American’s tailbone, pinkie moving in and out of the very top of his cleft. “Sounds plausible, doesn’t it, lad?”
“Yeah,” is his sleepy agreement, too busy relishing the way they’re flush to each other now to worry about anything else. “Def...”
“Something like this we’ll call a rare treat, then,” Liam tells him.
“The plug or the fucking?” he teases back.
The older actor’s eyes flash. “You won’t need the plug anymore, lad. Don’t worry,” and he reaches out of their little cocoon, going for the lights at the side of the bed, plunging the room into lovely darkness right before snuggling that hand back again Bradley’s ass. “I’ll be keeping those muscles loose for you from now on.”
And Bradley nods. Can’t help it.
There’s no way he’s saying no to that.
Not when Liam’s this happy.
Not ever.
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Date: 2011-10-04 10:53 am (UTC)I can't quite process the hotness of it all. *is a puddle of goo*
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Date: 2011-10-04 09:08 pm (UTC)That master post...yup, I have a serious problem with the RPS! Just can't seem to stop with these two. Glad you're enjoying!