karl_urban (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
karl_urban) wrote2016-03-09 09:49 am
karl_urban) wrote2016-03-09 09:49 am
Karl Urban and Dougray Scott (dougray): a place in LA
players only. takes place not long after Karl and Dougray sort things out.
"Something with a view," Karl says with a laugh, grinning across the table at Dougray when Harry hangs up. It's their lover's only request. House, condo, neighbourhood, he couldn't give a shit, but he wants a view. Or more specifically, an office with a view. "What about you? What do you want?" They hadn't even dared talk about it yet, not until they got Harry on board with their finding a second permanent place in L.A. – a home away from their home in London.
"I want..." Dougray trails off with a smile, and then shrugs. "You know I'm easy. I'll be happy wherever the two of you are. But what kind of view did Harry mean, you think? I mean, L.A. is so gigantic, he could have an office overlooking the beach, or facing the foothills, or over a forest... Shit, that one hotel the studio put you up in last year had a view of downtown, with all the fucking traffic and buildings and a million people." He shakes his head, still puzzling over what the appeal could have been.
"I can't see him wanting that," Karl says, reaching for his beer. "Something with some nature, probably, but you're not being very helpful either, Mr. I'll-be-happy-wherever-the-two-of-you-are. You do most of the laundry and cooking," he points out. "Surely you want main floor laundry or gas burners or something like that."
"Ah, I see. I thought you were asking me what kind of place, like should it be ritzy or right on the sand, and so forth. Let me... think." Dougray tents his hands in front of his pursed lips. "I would really love to have a good convection oven," he murmurs after a moment. "Not one on the counter, but one that is built in. And a pizza oven," he adds, shooting Karl a grin. "Can you imagine if we had a real wood-fired pizza oven? God, that would be amazing."
"Do they put those in houses?" Karl asks. "Or do you mean outside?" Between Harry's view and Dougray's oven, they might truly be fucked. Unless they can build one. Surely it can't cost that much to build an oven?
"I think those need to be outside, surely. Even if it's just to properly vent." Dougray polishes off his beer. "That's something we could have added to a stone patio, I'd think. If we have one." His smile tilts a little. "You realize this isn't a deal-breaker for me, right?"
"If Harry gets his view, you should get your ovens," Karl says firmly. "Even if we have to add on after we buy."
God, Dougray loves how Karl gets that stubborn flash in his eye over the littlest things sometimes – but it only happens when he has decided to go to bat for his partners, and never over something just for himself. "Karl," Dougray says softly, wanting for an instant to cuddle his sir like a puppy, "what do you want?"
"Some privacy, a bit of land," Karl says after thinking about it for a moment. "It doesn't have to be a ranch or anything, but I want to be able to step out, sit in my own backyard."
"Sit?" Dougray echoes, checking that he's got his lover's full meaning. "Or fuck?"
Karl laughs. "It'd be great if we could do that too, but I meant sit," he confirms, still chuckling softly.
"Ahh, all right." Dougray grins. "So then, a bit of space to spread out in, but not military-grade fortress walls. How many bedrooms do we want?"
"I think we should each have our own space," Karl says. "We'll share the Master bedroom, sleep there, but Harry'll have his office and you and I should both have a place to put our stuff so that's four. Do we need guest space?" He wouldn't dream of so many rooms in London or back home, but here it's almost a given.
Dougray shrugs a little. "We never have spend-over guests, so we probably don't need it," he replies, getting to his feet to collect a cold drink for each of them. "But if we have Harry's view, then we should also have a balcony, no? Do you want to start holding dinner parties? You know so many people in this city already."
Dinner parties. Karl bites back a smile. "I don't know if I'd be holding anything as formal as that but yeah, having the space to have people over would be nice." Suddenly breaking into a grin as he adds, "A media room might be cool."
"A large one, then," Dougray amends. "You're a big boy now. No more silly parties. Just invite your mates over by the kilo to watch something thought-provoking and profound on the telly, and I'll be sure to drown them in expensive cognac." His eyes dance.
Karl tosses a balled up napkin at Dougray, certain he's being teased, but not really minding. "I guess we'd better decide on a budget." Both his lovers work and make decent money but he's the one with bucks to afford what they're talking about.
Dougray frowns faintly and he kicks back his chair, thinking. "I suppose that depends on whether we're happy carrying a mortgage or not. I'm sure the three of us together can find something that meets everyone's needs, regardless. Oh, and how close do you want to be to the airport?"
"I'd rather not be more than an hour away," Karl says, giving it some thought. "You want to call up Cit tomorrow and find someone to show us some places?"
"Yes, I'll do that. Do you expect that your schedule might change much this week from what you already put on the calendar?" Dougray asks, already adding the task to the Kanbana app on his phone.
"I don't think so." Karl rubs a hand over the back of his neck, thinking. "We should make videos of our househunting," he says after a moment. "That way we could send them to Harry, get his input."
"Good idea," Dougray agrees, smiling. "But... Let's not film everything, not the entire trip. Just once we know we like a particular feature of a house, then turn the camera on. And say what about it appeals to us most."
"Can we tape things that are really ugly?" Karl asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Dougray smothers a snicker behind his hand. "Only if we narrate the shot like we're really truly sold on that particular ugliness."
"He'll think we've fucking lost it," Karl muses, laughing. "Hollywood gone to our heads."
"Maybe it will give him ideas for his next film," Dougray suggests. "A satire on beauty. That might be subversive enough for him, no?"
"Might also give him ideas he wants it," Karl says. "Let's go back to filming the parts we really like."
Dougray snickers, picturing the dilemma that might ensue. "Excellent point. Do you care if a place has a swimming pool or a hot tub or anything like that?"
"Not particularly," Karl says, shaking his head. "I wouldn't mind a pool or being near a beach, but I don't want to be on the beach. I looked at a few listings and there was nothing that wasn't seriously overlooked by neighbours and I don't want that."
"Great," Dougray agrees with a nod, and now he gets up to dig a pen and pad from a drawer so that he can begin taking notes. His lips curve. "I'll be just as happy to not spend half my time sweeping sand out of our house."
Karl laughs, draining the last of his beer. "If we're anywhere near a beach, we'll need a place for surfboards," he points out. "Mudroom, racks out back, or you'll be doing the same thing."
Dougray's jaw tightens and his lips purse. "Something a bit inland, then," he agrees, his tone of voice smooth, and he makes a few more notes. "Sounds wonderful."
"I'm sure you can convince us to clean up after ourselves," Karl says with a grin. Which, for the most part, they actually do.
Raising an eyebrow, Dougray gives his lover an extremely dry look, fighting his answering grin. "It's your boy's pleasure to clean up after both of his sirs. Of course."
"I can think of a lot better pleasures," Karl murmurs, that mischievous glint back again.
The would-be grin grows more insistent. "That's Sir's prerogative. And this boy is fortunate to be the beneficiary of such creativity, as always."
"You're busy making that list though," Karl says, grinning widely as he sits back. "I wouldn't want to break your concentration."
Oh, Christ. At that, Dougray simply surrenders to the inevitable. He chuckles softly as he sets paper and pen aside, then goes to his knees at Karl's feet. "I'm yours to command, Sir." Looking up at his sir's face, a familiar wave of lust rocks through him – he can never get enough of Karl's mischievous grin.
It never fails. The sight of Dougray on his knees makes his cock jerk and his chest tighten. This man belongs to them. "Give me your mouth to start," he orders.
"Yes, Sir," Dougray murmurs, feeling a familiar tightening in his gut. But it's not all lust – some of it is a simple rightness. He's right where he should be. "May I use my hands?"
"Your hands?" Karl sighs dramatically and then grins, all boyish charm. "Go ahead."
Dougray snorts, struggling to hold back the laugh. He moves between Karl's thighs with a smile on his face, and unbuckles his Sir's belt with practiced ease. And fuck, how he worked to get where he is right now, pulling down that zipper, nosing his Sir's cock out of his jeans and rubbing his lips along the length.
Karl groans, burying a hand in Dougray's hair, eyes intent on his face, his mouth, watching every movement.
Slowly Dougray licks, from root to tip and back again, learning his Sir's taste and textures all over again. Silkier here, more sensitive here... Until finally he closes his mouth over the crown, his tongue working the slit.
Another groan and Karl's grip tightens but only for an instant. He wants Dougray to take the lead, to take his time, at least for now.
Catching the subtle signal, Dougray grows more aggressive. He scrapes his teeth over the head, deliberately catching the extra sensitive spot on the underside. Then sucking any sting away with a soft moan of pleasure.
"Fuck," Karl breathes, fingers tightening again, his cock throbbing, precome welling at the tip.
Fuck. That masterful hold... it just disintegrates any toppy leanings Dougray might possibly have, instantly. He gives in to his own needs and takes Karl's length into his mouth, sucking hungrily and starting to bob his head.
"That's it. Good boy," Karl groans, keeping his grip tight enough Dougray's not going anywhere but still giving him the room to move.
Dougray moans softly. How accustomed he's become to hearing those words. Good boy. He suspects he might just starve for affection in the absence of his lovers' approval, so deep is his need now to please them. He flicks his glance up at his sir, watching Karl for a moment before taking him as deep into his throat as he can.
Cursing softly under his breath, Karl forces himself to keep his eyes open, watch their boy take him deep, again and again, his balls drawing up quickly.
That thick cock hits the back of Dougray's throat and he chokes, but he steadies himself and opens up for more. It's a fucking honor to do this, uncomfortable as it might be. It's Karl, and so it's fucking perfect.
He'd said this was to start but the way Dougray's swallowing him down has Karl reassessing his plans. For a moment. But then he's pulling back, pushing Dougray from his cock. "I want your ass, boy," he growls softly.
Dropping back on his hands, Dougray only barely saves himself from smacking hard onto the floor. In an instant he scrambles around and presents his hole, shuddering with anticipation.
"Look at you," Karl breathes, going to his knees behind Dougray, his thumb placed over his hole, pressing firmly. "Eager slut."
Dougray whimpers, the sound strangled in his throat. It's reflex now to hitch his hips back at the teasing touch, but he works to keep it to only that – he doesn't push harder and fuck himself on Karl's thumb like he's dying to do.
"You're just barely holding back, aren't you?" Karl grins, stroking over that pucker, the very tip of his thumb dipped inside.
"Yes, Sir," Dougray confesses on a groan. He stiffens even further -- he can't totally control his muscles, though. His hole contracts, clutching at his sir.
Karl can't resist. He pushes his thumb into Dougray's hole, fucking him with it.
Dougray cries out in need and his body tightens in an instant. Karl's thumb is nice but it's nothing compared to the rest of him. Rocking his hips, he lets his body do his begging for him.
As much as Karl loves to tease, he loves to fuck Dougray even more and within minutes he's replacing thumb with cock, shoving in hard and deep with one rough thrust. Trusting his boy can take it.
This time the cry ripped from Dougray's lips is barely human. He braces his body against the floor, his hands shaped into claws like he might actually find secure purchase there, to keep him steady through the onslaught. Because that's the most he can do: just hold his position and open himself for his Sir's lust, his cock, any-fucking-thing Karl wants of him.
Karl drives into Dougray, holding nothing back. Pounds into him, his cock already throbbing dangerously close.
"Fuck," Dougray spits out breathlessly, unable to even lift a hand to shove his hair out of his eyes. And he begs with absolutely no fucking shame. "Oh god yes, fuck me, Sir, please hurt me, more!"
And Karl does, knowing Dougray'll be feeling it for days, his nails carving crescents in their boy's skin, cock reaming him open, his hole gaping as he pulls out, all the way out, and drives in again.
It's a shock to Dougray to suddenly realize that he's right on the brink of orgasm, without a touch to his cock. "Sir," he spits out, feeling his whole body seize tight with denial. Responding to the brutality. "Karl-- No--!"
Stunned, Karl follows him, shoved over hard by the clench of Dougray's body. He empties every last drop into his boy, fingers gripping his hips, keeping him in place for it, until he's done.
The rush of pleasure nearly blinds Dougray, and he'd blissfully lose himself in it if only... He tenses all over again, a cold knot of fear in his belly.
Fuck. Karl finally eases out and up to his feet. "Stand up," he orders, crooking a finger at Dougray, even though his boy can't see it.
Dougray obeys, getting to his feet and turning to face Karl with all the dignity he can muster. It doesn't feel like much, in this moment, and he keeps his gaze cast down.
"You know what you did wrong?" Karl says, mind already running through the gauntlet of punishments, none of which he really feels like inflicting.
Swallowing hard around the lump in his throat, Dougray nods. "Yes, Sir. I climaxed without your permission." Never mind that he hardly had the presence of mind to beg just then, anyway; this isn't about making excuses.
"Did you know you were going to come?" Karl asks.
"No, Sir," Dougray replies, his voice soft. "I wouldn't have thought it possible."
"But you did try to warn me," Karl says, pretty sure Dougray did, although he was pretty swept up in the moment himself.
"Yes, Sir. There was a split second... I apologize that I didn't realize sooner and control myself sufficiently."
Karl nods. Arms crossed against his chest, he watches Dougray for a long moment, mulling through his options. "I'm not going to punish you," he says finally. "It's been a while, you didn't disobey on purpose and you did try to say something."
Dougray's breath leaves him in a rush, and his shoulders slump like a deflated balloon. "Thank you, Sir," he whispers, still not quite ready to look up and meet Karl's eyes. "Your boy is sorry."
"I know you are," Karl says, dropping his arms and gesturing for Dougray to come in for a hug.
It's rare for Dougray to fuck up, beyond the tiny mistake of a misspelled word here or an unreturned phone call there, and even those don't happen often. He has built his career on precision and exactitude, and so to feel like he has failed his sirs is bloody near unbearable. He steps willingly into Karl's embrace, needing the resolution, but even so he can't stop an agonized tear from slipping down his cheek.
"It's okay," Karl tells him, hugging him close. "It's forgiven and I'm not disappointed in you. I know you tried."
"Yes, Sir." The temptation is strong to let his own disappointment in himself overwhelm everything else, but Dougray knows that to do so would be disrespecting his Sir even further: Karl said the incident is over, and it's Dougray's job to accept that and fucking let go. He lifts his head and asks in a whisper, "May I kiss you, Sir?"
"Of course," Karl says with a smile.
Dougray's eyes shut for an instant in relief. He keeps his hands to himself but lifts his head and presses a soft kiss to his Sir's lips.
Karl accepts the kiss and responds in kind, hugging Dougray tighter. "I love you," he whispers.
Finally, some of the tension begins to melt from Dougray's shoulders. "Thank you, Sir," he murmurs, the words heartfelt.
[feedback welcome. comments screened.]
"Something with a view," Karl says with a laugh, grinning across the table at Dougray when Harry hangs up. It's their lover's only request. House, condo, neighbourhood, he couldn't give a shit, but he wants a view. Or more specifically, an office with a view. "What about you? What do you want?" They hadn't even dared talk about it yet, not until they got Harry on board with their finding a second permanent place in L.A. – a home away from their home in London.
"I want..." Dougray trails off with a smile, and then shrugs. "You know I'm easy. I'll be happy wherever the two of you are. But what kind of view did Harry mean, you think? I mean, L.A. is so gigantic, he could have an office overlooking the beach, or facing the foothills, or over a forest... Shit, that one hotel the studio put you up in last year had a view of downtown, with all the fucking traffic and buildings and a million people." He shakes his head, still puzzling over what the appeal could have been.
"I can't see him wanting that," Karl says, reaching for his beer. "Something with some nature, probably, but you're not being very helpful either, Mr. I'll-be-happy-wherever-the-two-of-you-are. You do most of the laundry and cooking," he points out. "Surely you want main floor laundry or gas burners or something like that."
"Ah, I see. I thought you were asking me what kind of place, like should it be ritzy or right on the sand, and so forth. Let me... think." Dougray tents his hands in front of his pursed lips. "I would really love to have a good convection oven," he murmurs after a moment. "Not one on the counter, but one that is built in. And a pizza oven," he adds, shooting Karl a grin. "Can you imagine if we had a real wood-fired pizza oven? God, that would be amazing."
"Do they put those in houses?" Karl asks. "Or do you mean outside?" Between Harry's view and Dougray's oven, they might truly be fucked. Unless they can build one. Surely it can't cost that much to build an oven?
"I think those need to be outside, surely. Even if it's just to properly vent." Dougray polishes off his beer. "That's something we could have added to a stone patio, I'd think. If we have one." His smile tilts a little. "You realize this isn't a deal-breaker for me, right?"
"If Harry gets his view, you should get your ovens," Karl says firmly. "Even if we have to add on after we buy."
God, Dougray loves how Karl gets that stubborn flash in his eye over the littlest things sometimes – but it only happens when he has decided to go to bat for his partners, and never over something just for himself. "Karl," Dougray says softly, wanting for an instant to cuddle his sir like a puppy, "what do you want?"
"Some privacy, a bit of land," Karl says after thinking about it for a moment. "It doesn't have to be a ranch or anything, but I want to be able to step out, sit in my own backyard."
"Sit?" Dougray echoes, checking that he's got his lover's full meaning. "Or fuck?"
Karl laughs. "It'd be great if we could do that too, but I meant sit," he confirms, still chuckling softly.
"Ahh, all right." Dougray grins. "So then, a bit of space to spread out in, but not military-grade fortress walls. How many bedrooms do we want?"
"I think we should each have our own space," Karl says. "We'll share the Master bedroom, sleep there, but Harry'll have his office and you and I should both have a place to put our stuff so that's four. Do we need guest space?" He wouldn't dream of so many rooms in London or back home, but here it's almost a given.
Dougray shrugs a little. "We never have spend-over guests, so we probably don't need it," he replies, getting to his feet to collect a cold drink for each of them. "But if we have Harry's view, then we should also have a balcony, no? Do you want to start holding dinner parties? You know so many people in this city already."
Dinner parties. Karl bites back a smile. "I don't know if I'd be holding anything as formal as that but yeah, having the space to have people over would be nice." Suddenly breaking into a grin as he adds, "A media room might be cool."
"A large one, then," Dougray amends. "You're a big boy now. No more silly parties. Just invite your mates over by the kilo to watch something thought-provoking and profound on the telly, and I'll be sure to drown them in expensive cognac." His eyes dance.
Karl tosses a balled up napkin at Dougray, certain he's being teased, but not really minding. "I guess we'd better decide on a budget." Both his lovers work and make decent money but he's the one with bucks to afford what they're talking about.
Dougray frowns faintly and he kicks back his chair, thinking. "I suppose that depends on whether we're happy carrying a mortgage or not. I'm sure the three of us together can find something that meets everyone's needs, regardless. Oh, and how close do you want to be to the airport?"
"I'd rather not be more than an hour away," Karl says, giving it some thought. "You want to call up Cit tomorrow and find someone to show us some places?"
"Yes, I'll do that. Do you expect that your schedule might change much this week from what you already put on the calendar?" Dougray asks, already adding the task to the Kanbana app on his phone.
"I don't think so." Karl rubs a hand over the back of his neck, thinking. "We should make videos of our househunting," he says after a moment. "That way we could send them to Harry, get his input."
"Good idea," Dougray agrees, smiling. "But... Let's not film everything, not the entire trip. Just once we know we like a particular feature of a house, then turn the camera on. And say what about it appeals to us most."
"Can we tape things that are really ugly?" Karl asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Dougray smothers a snicker behind his hand. "Only if we narrate the shot like we're really truly sold on that particular ugliness."
"He'll think we've fucking lost it," Karl muses, laughing. "Hollywood gone to our heads."
"Maybe it will give him ideas for his next film," Dougray suggests. "A satire on beauty. That might be subversive enough for him, no?"
"Might also give him ideas he wants it," Karl says. "Let's go back to filming the parts we really like."
Dougray snickers, picturing the dilemma that might ensue. "Excellent point. Do you care if a place has a swimming pool or a hot tub or anything like that?"
"Not particularly," Karl says, shaking his head. "I wouldn't mind a pool or being near a beach, but I don't want to be on the beach. I looked at a few listings and there was nothing that wasn't seriously overlooked by neighbours and I don't want that."
"Great," Dougray agrees with a nod, and now he gets up to dig a pen and pad from a drawer so that he can begin taking notes. His lips curve. "I'll be just as happy to not spend half my time sweeping sand out of our house."
Karl laughs, draining the last of his beer. "If we're anywhere near a beach, we'll need a place for surfboards," he points out. "Mudroom, racks out back, or you'll be doing the same thing."
Dougray's jaw tightens and his lips purse. "Something a bit inland, then," he agrees, his tone of voice smooth, and he makes a few more notes. "Sounds wonderful."
"I'm sure you can convince us to clean up after ourselves," Karl says with a grin. Which, for the most part, they actually do.
Raising an eyebrow, Dougray gives his lover an extremely dry look, fighting his answering grin. "It's your boy's pleasure to clean up after both of his sirs. Of course."
"I can think of a lot better pleasures," Karl murmurs, that mischievous glint back again.
The would-be grin grows more insistent. "That's Sir's prerogative. And this boy is fortunate to be the beneficiary of such creativity, as always."
"You're busy making that list though," Karl says, grinning widely as he sits back. "I wouldn't want to break your concentration."
Oh, Christ. At that, Dougray simply surrenders to the inevitable. He chuckles softly as he sets paper and pen aside, then goes to his knees at Karl's feet. "I'm yours to command, Sir." Looking up at his sir's face, a familiar wave of lust rocks through him – he can never get enough of Karl's mischievous grin.
It never fails. The sight of Dougray on his knees makes his cock jerk and his chest tighten. This man belongs to them. "Give me your mouth to start," he orders.
"Yes, Sir," Dougray murmurs, feeling a familiar tightening in his gut. But it's not all lust – some of it is a simple rightness. He's right where he should be. "May I use my hands?"
"Your hands?" Karl sighs dramatically and then grins, all boyish charm. "Go ahead."
Dougray snorts, struggling to hold back the laugh. He moves between Karl's thighs with a smile on his face, and unbuckles his Sir's belt with practiced ease. And fuck, how he worked to get where he is right now, pulling down that zipper, nosing his Sir's cock out of his jeans and rubbing his lips along the length.
Karl groans, burying a hand in Dougray's hair, eyes intent on his face, his mouth, watching every movement.
Slowly Dougray licks, from root to tip and back again, learning his Sir's taste and textures all over again. Silkier here, more sensitive here... Until finally he closes his mouth over the crown, his tongue working the slit.
Another groan and Karl's grip tightens but only for an instant. He wants Dougray to take the lead, to take his time, at least for now.
Catching the subtle signal, Dougray grows more aggressive. He scrapes his teeth over the head, deliberately catching the extra sensitive spot on the underside. Then sucking any sting away with a soft moan of pleasure.
"Fuck," Karl breathes, fingers tightening again, his cock throbbing, precome welling at the tip.
Fuck. That masterful hold... it just disintegrates any toppy leanings Dougray might possibly have, instantly. He gives in to his own needs and takes Karl's length into his mouth, sucking hungrily and starting to bob his head.
"That's it. Good boy," Karl groans, keeping his grip tight enough Dougray's not going anywhere but still giving him the room to move.
Dougray moans softly. How accustomed he's become to hearing those words. Good boy. He suspects he might just starve for affection in the absence of his lovers' approval, so deep is his need now to please them. He flicks his glance up at his sir, watching Karl for a moment before taking him as deep into his throat as he can.
Cursing softly under his breath, Karl forces himself to keep his eyes open, watch their boy take him deep, again and again, his balls drawing up quickly.
That thick cock hits the back of Dougray's throat and he chokes, but he steadies himself and opens up for more. It's a fucking honor to do this, uncomfortable as it might be. It's Karl, and so it's fucking perfect.
He'd said this was to start but the way Dougray's swallowing him down has Karl reassessing his plans. For a moment. But then he's pulling back, pushing Dougray from his cock. "I want your ass, boy," he growls softly.
Dropping back on his hands, Dougray only barely saves himself from smacking hard onto the floor. In an instant he scrambles around and presents his hole, shuddering with anticipation.
"Look at you," Karl breathes, going to his knees behind Dougray, his thumb placed over his hole, pressing firmly. "Eager slut."
Dougray whimpers, the sound strangled in his throat. It's reflex now to hitch his hips back at the teasing touch, but he works to keep it to only that – he doesn't push harder and fuck himself on Karl's thumb like he's dying to do.
"You're just barely holding back, aren't you?" Karl grins, stroking over that pucker, the very tip of his thumb dipped inside.
"Yes, Sir," Dougray confesses on a groan. He stiffens even further -- he can't totally control his muscles, though. His hole contracts, clutching at his sir.
Karl can't resist. He pushes his thumb into Dougray's hole, fucking him with it.
Dougray cries out in need and his body tightens in an instant. Karl's thumb is nice but it's nothing compared to the rest of him. Rocking his hips, he lets his body do his begging for him.
As much as Karl loves to tease, he loves to fuck Dougray even more and within minutes he's replacing thumb with cock, shoving in hard and deep with one rough thrust. Trusting his boy can take it.
This time the cry ripped from Dougray's lips is barely human. He braces his body against the floor, his hands shaped into claws like he might actually find secure purchase there, to keep him steady through the onslaught. Because that's the most he can do: just hold his position and open himself for his Sir's lust, his cock, any-fucking-thing Karl wants of him.
Karl drives into Dougray, holding nothing back. Pounds into him, his cock already throbbing dangerously close.
"Fuck," Dougray spits out breathlessly, unable to even lift a hand to shove his hair out of his eyes. And he begs with absolutely no fucking shame. "Oh god yes, fuck me, Sir, please hurt me, more!"
And Karl does, knowing Dougray'll be feeling it for days, his nails carving crescents in their boy's skin, cock reaming him open, his hole gaping as he pulls out, all the way out, and drives in again.
It's a shock to Dougray to suddenly realize that he's right on the brink of orgasm, without a touch to his cock. "Sir," he spits out, feeling his whole body seize tight with denial. Responding to the brutality. "Karl-- No--!"
Stunned, Karl follows him, shoved over hard by the clench of Dougray's body. He empties every last drop into his boy, fingers gripping his hips, keeping him in place for it, until he's done.
The rush of pleasure nearly blinds Dougray, and he'd blissfully lose himself in it if only... He tenses all over again, a cold knot of fear in his belly.
Fuck. Karl finally eases out and up to his feet. "Stand up," he orders, crooking a finger at Dougray, even though his boy can't see it.
Dougray obeys, getting to his feet and turning to face Karl with all the dignity he can muster. It doesn't feel like much, in this moment, and he keeps his gaze cast down.
"You know what you did wrong?" Karl says, mind already running through the gauntlet of punishments, none of which he really feels like inflicting.
Swallowing hard around the lump in his throat, Dougray nods. "Yes, Sir. I climaxed without your permission." Never mind that he hardly had the presence of mind to beg just then, anyway; this isn't about making excuses.
"Did you know you were going to come?" Karl asks.
"No, Sir," Dougray replies, his voice soft. "I wouldn't have thought it possible."
"But you did try to warn me," Karl says, pretty sure Dougray did, although he was pretty swept up in the moment himself.
"Yes, Sir. There was a split second... I apologize that I didn't realize sooner and control myself sufficiently."
Karl nods. Arms crossed against his chest, he watches Dougray for a long moment, mulling through his options. "I'm not going to punish you," he says finally. "It's been a while, you didn't disobey on purpose and you did try to say something."
Dougray's breath leaves him in a rush, and his shoulders slump like a deflated balloon. "Thank you, Sir," he whispers, still not quite ready to look up and meet Karl's eyes. "Your boy is sorry."
"I know you are," Karl says, dropping his arms and gesturing for Dougray to come in for a hug.
It's rare for Dougray to fuck up, beyond the tiny mistake of a misspelled word here or an unreturned phone call there, and even those don't happen often. He has built his career on precision and exactitude, and so to feel like he has failed his sirs is bloody near unbearable. He steps willingly into Karl's embrace, needing the resolution, but even so he can't stop an agonized tear from slipping down his cheek.
"It's okay," Karl tells him, hugging him close. "It's forgiven and I'm not disappointed in you. I know you tried."
"Yes, Sir." The temptation is strong to let his own disappointment in himself overwhelm everything else, but Dougray knows that to do so would be disrespecting his Sir even further: Karl said the incident is over, and it's Dougray's job to accept that and fucking let go. He lifts his head and asks in a whisper, "May I kiss you, Sir?"
"Of course," Karl says with a smile.
Dougray's eyes shut for an instant in relief. He keeps his hands to himself but lifts his head and presses a soft kiss to his Sir's lips.
Karl accepts the kiss and responds in kind, hugging Dougray tighter. "I love you," he whispers.
Finally, some of the tension begins to melt from Dougray's shoulders. "Thank you, Sir," he murmurs, the words heartfelt.
[feedback welcome. comments screened.]