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That swat elicits a short barking laugh, the grin that comes with it not fading as he follows Chris' prim direction, straightening his posture and putting a hand to each post. The bed is large and at the limits of how far he can reach comfortably but he manages, curious about what exactly Chris is expecting him to weather that would make standing upright a trial. He knows better than to ask.

The image of Chris' threat dancing in his mind's eye puts a quick hitch in Hawke's breath, imagining himself tied to the posts as he is, stuck facing in on a bed while Chris lays amongst the plush covers, fingers buried in himself and head thrown back in cries of ecstasy in a show for Hawke that he'd not be allowed to interact with, just torturously watch. That might make him beg, he thinks, if he were of a mind. He'd try bargaining first, appeal to Chris' lust and the things he knows the cleric loves to take of him, but Chris has a will stronger than steel and unless Hawke truly pleads with him, he's certain his lover would simply let him writhe for as long as he liked, making a mess of himself and then smirking in that self-satisfied little way he does when he gets exactly the reaction he knew he would.

Hawke would beg. He'd offer anything just for a touch, if Chris teased him that way, and they both know it.

At full hardness now for the his fantasy running away with him, Hawke takes a steadying breath and tries to just focus on the present. Stand here. Feet shoulder's width apart. Do as he's told. "Yes, messere."

That earns a sweetly pressed kiss to Hawke's shoulder as Chris pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it aside. "Good. A reward, then."

He trails kisses down Wolfe's shoulders and back next, though he pauses at the mage's lower back to suck a mark right above the curve of his ass. Chris takes a knee for the angle and the other follows for comfort as his fingers slip between those pronounced cheeks and casts a cool wash of magic. "Keep your knees for me, love, I know you can."

A hanbd planted on either cheek, Chris spreads Hawke's ass for himself and leans in to run his tongue up along the crease of him. There's little other preamble before he begins to swirl and press his tongue along Wolfe's entrance. It's a tighter press than for his fingers, but Chris steadily works his tongue inside his lover with a small yet pleased sound.

It's silly, but pride blooms in him for the praise. It's not as if Chris is careful with his approval, but Hawke's caught on long ago that he doesn't give it for no reason. If Chris is satisfied, then Hawke is happy and that's as simple as it needs to be for a scene. With the collar on, his only worry is whether Chris is pleased with him and there is such comfort and catharsis in being able to put everything else away temporarily.

He can't see with his back turned, but the kisses marking a haphazard line down his shoulders and back give away Chris kneeling and he lets out an appreciative pant for the mark he feels Chris leave on him. He wants a dozen more like it, to walk out of here covered in love bites and bruises to wear proudly. That train of thought spirals away for the slip of magic against him, causing a shudder and for him to have to momentarily lock his knees lest he go weak in them for his cautious excitement.

Is he really going to...?

A pleasured moan escapes Hawke almost before Chris has pressed his tongue against the tight ring of flesh. This sort of treatment is rare, almost like a special occasion, and that Chris would reward him with it goes straight to his cock. Just the feeling of himself being spread is enough to get him going, but the wetness and the invasion and how he can feel Chris's nose occasionally bump the inside curve of his ass makes him giddy.

"C-Chris..." He says his name just to say it, to affirm that he still has his wits for now, but he gulps air and pants, holding the bed posts with a white-knuckled grip.

Hawke's enjoyment is half of what he's after, he other half being a more practical angle. He needed his lover loosened and prepared for what Chris had in mind. It's for both of these things that Chris takes his time and care with the other man, his tongue diligent and fingers firm in how they pressed and touched.

Occasionally, he would sit back to press one and then two fingers into Wolfe's body to encourage him to loosen up more, but always he'd follow again with his tongue and a sound of enjoyment for Hawke's enjoyment.

Eventually, he pulls back more and swipes at his mouth with the back of a hand before rising to his feet again and presses a kiss to Wolfe's shoulder. "There we are. On the bed, darling, close to the headboard for your head, if you please. You've been so good so far, I think it's time I gave you what you really need." His lips linger next to Wolfe's ear and his fingers brush over the small of his back.

"No more worries. No more thoughts but of me. Your attention is mine. Your pleasure is mine and your peace is mine to grant. I'll take care of you, Wolfe." The last word, he presses on Wolfe's back to encourage him on and takes a step back with only the intention of granting him space to follow Chris' order.

"You'll take care of me." Hawke repeats Chris' words thickly, shivering at what he's already received. That alone would be enough even if he wasn't aching to finish, his cock hanging low and heavy between his legs, a little slick with precome, but Chris always goes beyond, always makes sure he's physically satisfied. And emotionally, too, which is the point of this but not what he should worry about right now. He trusts Chris to give what he needs.

He trusts Chris to know him.

Gingerly removing his hands from the bedposts, Hawke steps back to move around the bed and climb onto it, settling up near the plush pillows at the headboard with a long exhale that he can feel in his throat as it leaves him thanks to the collar. It puts him in focus and while his skin still seems to buzz in expectation and want, he's easily surrendered to Chris' guidance and grey eyes meet green with a warmth he may have hidden were he not in this headspace.

Hawke holds Chris' gaze for a moment, wishing for a moment that he'd at least brushed a hand against his when he'd gone to follow directions but it's alright. Chris knows him and will put hands on him soon enough. He can be patient.

He waits for Hawke to lay out on the bed and then moves to hover over him as he strips what remains of his own clothes off.

"Good. Now, lift up a bit for me here, I'm gonna slip this under you." Once he's bare as his friend, he reaches over for the belt-looking thing and slides it under Wolfe to strap over his abdomen. To the D-rings on it's center, he clips leather cuffs, their interiors unlined. He reaches for one of Hawke's hands to pull his wrist over to the cuff and squeezes his fingers before letting go. "Here we are...I'm looking forward to the marks these'll leave on your skin, darling. Now the other."

He repeats the process with Wolfe's other hand and reaches up to sweep some of Hawke's hair from his face and pet down his cheek. "You are just too perfect bound up for me. Now your legs."

Hawke's legs take a bit more time, the ropes turning and twisting and folding around the mage's pale thighs and ending at just below his knee before Chris ties the slack up by the headboard, pulling one and then the other leg open and wide for him. "There now...all spread and inviting for me. Do you want me between your legs, my Wolfe?"

The leather is supple but thick. It won't hurt much but it will leave light scours in his skin that will take some hours to fade and he can't help the excitement that puts in him for it. Marks of any kind, especially left by Chris, he's often thought of just having tattooed over. Permanent reminders of times together, intimate and freeing. Not that he will.

His hands trapped just under his chest, Hawke can feel himself hold his breath not just inward but the outward rise of his body as well as Chris raises both of Hawke's legs, suspended from the knees to be spread wide and open on display for his friend's full view. It would be embarrassing if this were any other time.

"Yes," he answers breathlessly, anticipation making his words short. He shifts his knees just a little, more to see if he can than anything, and is tantalized to feel the ropes having very little give. He couldn't close his legs if he wanted to. That too makes him burn hot and he licks his lip in nervous anticipation. "More than anything."

Edited 2023-05-06 05:58 (UTC)

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