Fic: Into the Flame (Red Ribbon)
Jun. 2nd, 2010 12:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
withthepilotTitle: Into the Flame
Rating: NC-17 with warnings
Pairing: Karl/Zach/Chris with heavy emphasis on both Karl/Chris and Zach/Chris
Word count: 7,700
Notes: A continuation of Red Ribbon, the Dom!Karl/Zach/Chris series that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ewinfic and I write together. This chapter explores Chris' venture into BDSM and charts the progression of his D/s relationship with Karl through flashbacks. Scenes in the present tense are mainly Zach/Chris and continued from the last chapter. Previous fics in the series are listed below. Thanks to all for your patience in receiving this installment.
Warning: D/s, bondage, suspension, orgasm denial, toys.
Summary: Before Chris found himself infatuated with Zach, there was Karl and only Karl.
Red Ribbon
01 Come for Him | 02 The Christmas Package | 03 Return to Sender | 04 Tightening the Loop | 05 Special Delivery | 06 Unraveling | 07 The Punishment
Now.
Karl whispered, "Now take a look at Chris and tell me how you feel."
"I feel fucking fantastic," Zach said. "And maybe a little vengeful."
Chris moaned around the ball gag.
"Perfect."
Karl moved around to the side of the bed and leaned against the wall to watch.
*
Then.
Chris stood in the hallway, idly patting the pockets of his trousers, wishing he had a cigarette. In fact, he wished he'd worn jeans instead of trousers; he'd been so obsessed with the idea of making a good impression that he'd called nearly everyone he knew for advice on how to dress for the first read-through: his mom, his sister, even Beau. They'd all agreed on a clean, pressed dress shirt and trousers, preferably pleated.
Now he felt like a total tool, watching everyone walking around in jeans, even Zach Quinto, who laughed with a makeup artist at the other end of the corridor as though he didn't have a care in the world about how he looked or acted. Chris envied him, and not just for the comfortable outfit he wore. His fingers twitched, aching to clutch the warm cylinder of a cigarette.
After he was called inside the room, he glanced around at the U-shaped arrangement of tables, all the seats with names assigned to them. Chris found his chair and sat down, drumming his fingers idly as he glanced at the names on either side of him: Zachary Quinto and Karl Urban. The triumvirate, he'd learned, upon watching all of those DVDs of the original series. The sounds of idle chit-chat surrounded him. People trickled in and slowly made their ways to their seats.
Chris didn't hear the man sitting down to his left, but he felt the warmth of his body. He instinctively turned and opened his mouth to introduce himself, but his breath caught in his throat and stalled him. The guy took advantage of the silence and spoke first.
"Chris, right?" He held out his hand for a shake. His smile was wry and his hazel eyes twinkled as though they could see right through Chris and had already picked up on everything there was to know about him. "Karl Urban."
"Right. The sign...I gathered. Nice to meet you."
He took Karl's big hand in his own and shook it with vigor, just like he'd once been taught. He reminded himself to smile.
Karl just kept looking at him. Through him.
"A real pleasure," he said.
After it was over, applause ringing all around and the last of the introductions doled out, Chris found himself in the studio parking lot, squinting in the bright haze of the California sun. He touched his hip, where his cigarettes would normally be stuffed into his pocket, had he not forgotten them in his haste early that morning. Then he felt that warm presence beside him again and looked down to see a Marlboro Red hovering just below his nose, unfiltered side up.
"Here." Karl smiled when Chris took the cigarette, lighting one of his own. "You look like you need it."
"Man, you have no idea."
"I have some idea."
Chris laughed under his breath, slipping the cigarette between his lips. He leaned forward when Karl held out a lit match, until the tobacco caught the heat of the dancing flame.
*
Now.
There were hands on his ass, kneading almost painfully, sliding through the streams of come that were rapidly cooling and growing sticky on his skin. Chris pushed his face into the mattress as he felt Zach's hand drift away from his skin to grip the base of the large anal plug, shoving and twisting it inside him harshly. His muscles clenched briefly in protest and if not for the gag in his mouth, he might have cried out. A host of giddy thoughts crossed his mind as to what Zach might do with him.
He was bound to a bed, his limbs tied down so he was spread-eagle, and a sheet of cool plastic separated his body from the mattress. It warmed as Chris rutted against it, trying to angle the tip of the plug toward the place where he wanted to feel it most. Zach laughed darkly behind him, then whispered at a level just loud enough for Chris to hear above the rush of blood going past his ears.
"Oh, Chris...you have no idea how much I've looked forward to this moment. How many times I've thought about it over the past few days, thanks to your ceaseless teasing and torture. And now, here you are...all spread out and ready for me, just as you said you would be. Just as you wanted."
Chris whimpered his agreement around the gag and opened one eye when Zach stopped talking. He felt a dip in the mattress beside his head, then, and Karl's unmistakable fingers combed gently through his hair, massaging his scalp and making him tingle down to his toes. Chris sighed and felt his muscles start to relax, felt his conscious mind start to drift as he focused on the pleasurable sensation combined with the lingering sting in his asshole. Then the fingers flexed, burying themselves in his short hair and tugging hard, pulling his head up. He moaned in protest and looked up at Karl imploringly. Karl—Karl would give him what he needed, what he craved.
But Karl just looked at him, no pity or remorse in his eyes. It was a knowing gaze, the one that held all of Chris' basest secrets captive. It read Chris' expression, heard his request, and gave nothing back in return.
"Zachary is calling the shots here now," he said quietly. He tilted his head, holding Chris' gaze. "I'm giving you to him. If this is what you want, then you'll accept what he's offering. Is this what you want, Christopher?"
Chris' mind felt hazy but he could understand what Karl was saying. Yes, this was what he'd wanted for months now, to belong to Zach just as much as he belonged to Karl; to luxuriate in the embarrassment of riches that was two gorgeous men who knew Chris well enough to claim him. He nodded slightly, his eyelids drooping with the weight of the possibilities. Karl nodded back and looked off to where Zach knelt on the bed, between Chris' spread legs.
"Thank you, Chris," Zach said softly, almost reverently, so Chris could tell he meant it. "In that case," he continued, "I don't think I'm the only one who deserves his share of punishment today."
*
Then.
He tried to keep his distance at first. It was a crush and Chris highly doubted Karl would take it seriously. He was older and more experienced and had probably dealt with plenty of co-stars throwing themselves at him in the past. Chris knew it was something he ought to keep under wraps—that he should simply be grateful that Karl liked him enough to pal around with him on set, to go out with him for beers when shooting wrapped early, and to pick Chris as his teammate in rounds of pool with the others.
Except it wasn't enough, and that became all too clear one night when Chris spied Karl coming out of his trailer after they'd wrapped the shuttle scene, his face shadowed with scruff and his hair wild and untamed. Karl was about to light a cigarette when Chris ignored every ounce of sense he had and grabbed him by his jacket, pulling him to the side of the trailer, where they'd be hidden from sight. Karl blinked at him once in surprise before Chris locked him into a hungry kiss, hands pawing at his clothes. A thrill shot up and down Chris' spine when Karl immediately responded, dropping the cigarette and lighter and pulling Chris close. They went at it with sharp teeth and clever tongues for a few tantalizing minutes, until Karl grabbed Chris' wrists and pulled back.
"Been wanting to do that for a while?" he asked, slightly hoarse. Chris laughed, suddenly bashful.
"Yeah, a long while. Like, since I first met you."
Karl quirked a smile, looking surprised and amused and smug all at once. Then he arched a brow. "You drunk?"
"Not right now. Not today."
"Well, good," Karl said. "Let's carry on, then."
Karl initiated the kiss again, a bit slower this time but just as hungry. Chris felt himself melt into things as Karl took the lead. Karl's tongue flickered against the edges of his teeth just as his hand slid up under Chris' worn T-shirt, a hot brand against his pale skin. Chris uttered a soft, yielding sigh into Karl's mouth. He felt Karl take pause, his movements slowing to a more deliberate pace. Then, as if testing a theory, Karl's fingers carefully wrapped around Chris' wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. It was forceful but not painful, not really, and Chris couldn't help the involuntary buck of his hips that followed. Karl smiled into the kiss, flipping their positions so Chris' back met the hard steel of the trailer.
"You good?" Karl asked, his voice whisper-soft. Chris bit back a moan and nodded, grinding into him.
"God, yeah." Chris looked into Karl's heated gaze and felt a wave of arousal at the hidden promise there, to call all the shots if Chris wanted him to. He licked his lips, both nervous and excited. "Carry on."
He'd never seen Karl look quite so pleased.
*
Now.
Punishment. Chris tried to jerk his head back when he heard that, but Karl kept it held high. Zach removed the plug in Chris' ass without fanfare or hesitation. It made a slick popping sound as it left his body and Chris tensed in his bonds, his teeth knocking against the plastic wedged firmly in his mouth. Zach continued to speak, fluidly and softly, his hands spreading Chris' quivering cheeks apart, revealing his reddened hole to the air.
"You really think I'm just going to give you what you want? After the way you acted? That there won't be consequences for your actions?" he whispered. "You must not know me that well. But I can teach you."
Chris' ass was still painted with Zach's come and he felt those devious fingers working him over again, gathering what was there. Zach pushed the come into him harshly, and Chris barely had time to register what was happening before he felt the intrusion of the plug again. His lashes fluttered as sweat began to pool on his brow, his neck aching from the forced position of his head.
"As much as I would love to have my way with you right this second," Zach went on, wiping his fingers on the back of Chris' thigh, "I think you deserve to lie here for a few hours with my come trapped inside you. Maybe a whole day. Alone."
Chris' reaction was immediate, his dissenting cries muffled by the gag in his mouth as he looked to Karl for help. Karl's expression gave away nothing; he looked to Zach briefly before letting Chris' hair go, and Chris fell back to the bed's lining, his cheek sticking to it. He peeled himself away from the plastic and a sharp sting flared under his skin. Karl had to stop this, had to keep this from happening, it wasn't how this was supposed to go...but then Chris felt Karl's touch, a rough grip on his nape, his fingers squeezing in a way that immediately stilled Chris.
"This is Zachary's punishment for you. Your only job here is to take it," he said calmly. He squeezed again, lightly, and Chris trembled under him. "Now go down and stay down, Christopher."
Chris did. He exhaled heavily through his nostrils and let the tension flow out of his body, as instructed. A few moments later, Karl stroked him once behind his ear before lifting his hand away. He heard murmuring between Karl and Zach but it was difficult to concentrate on it. Chris could only see Karl's heavy gaze when he closed his eyes, telling him everything he needed to know, all that he had come to rely on: I know what you need better than you do.
The lights went out above him and the sound of the door clicking shut echoed throughout the room. Chris' lingering thoughts slowly turned to Zach.
*
Then.
Zoe cleared her throat and gave her next words some thought before she spoke.
"Never have I ever had sex in a car."
Chris looked around the circle seated on the floor of Zoe's living room. Then he sighed in defeat and downed his next shot, as did Karl, Zach, and Anton. John gaped comically, wondering aloud where everyone's sense of romance was while Zoe smothered laughter into her hand. Chris had to keep his own smug little smile off his face; he and Karl had just done it in a car the other night. A rented car, no less. Not that anyone there knew about the fact that they were fucking, let alone the fact it occasionally occurred in motor vehicles.
"Who's next?" he asked, and Anton raised his hand.
"Never have I ever done BDSM."
At that, Karl and John both drank down shots. Karl seemed rather unfazed by the answering gasps and laughter, while John looked a little guilty.
"I had this gift certificate for a session with a dominatrix. It was a birthday gift!"
"Sure, birthday gift," Zach said, smirking.
"I didn't say I liked it," John clarified. He paused and shrugged. "Well, I liked it a little. But not all of it!"
Everyone was so busy laughing along with John's fumbling explanations that no one but Chris seemed to remember that another person had taken a drink. He stared openly as Karl licked a lingering drop of whisky from his shot glass, his lips obscene against the glistening rim. Karl looked up, feeling the daggers on him, and didn't do much to hide his answering smirk, the one that never failed to go straight to Chris' cock.
It was three shots later by the time Karl excused himself to piss. When he was done, Chris was waiting for him in the narrow little hallway. He pressed Karl up against the wall, whispering so as not to make the others suspicious.
"Okay, not cool," he slurred, leaning close. "You never told me you were into...into that. When did you do it?"
Karl laughed a little, visibly intoxicated. His laughter was usually sexy but right now, it pissed Chris off.
"Plenty of times," he said. "What, you're jealous or something?"
"No, I just would have liked to have known. Okay? I mean, you never told me that you were into whips and chains and shit."
"Christopher," Karl said sternly, in a way that made Chris' cock pay attention. "First of all, it has nothing to do with all that, and secondly...I am not talking about this with you in the fucking corridor next to Zoe's toilet. I'm drunk and you're drunk, and it's neither the time nor the place. All right?"
Chris blinked up at him slowly. "S'kinda hot when you say my name like that."
"I'm glad," Karl said. "Now let's go back inside before we—"
"But why can't you tell me about it?" Chris insisted, squinting. "I'm interested! I want to know more. Maybe...maybe I want to try it with you. I mean, you're already the top. I let you bend me over everything, and—"
Karl clamped a hand over Chris' mouth. He glanced toward the other room and only let go when he heard the others laughing amongst themselves, oblivious. He ran a hand through his hair and pursed his lips.
"It's not what you think it is, Chris. It's a commitment, okay? You couldn't handle it. You're not the type."
"Who says I'm not?"
"I said no, Chris."
Chris kept his mouth shut and leaned against the opposite wall as Karl headed back to the living room. He didn't know if he would remember any of this the next day, but for the rest of the night, he was ticked off and horny, thinking all of Karl's words to death.
*
Now.
It was quiet. Deathly quiet.
Dark, too. The lights were turned off in the room and Chris had nothing to guide him, aside from the occasional squeaks of the plastic when he shifted one of his limbs. The only other constant was the low buzzing in his ears that wasn't a sound so much as it was a hum of arousal. It surged insistently throughout his body and made him feel as though he were floating.
This was not what he wanted. What he wanted was for Zach to come back and use him, however he saw fit—whether he wanted to paint Chris' body with bruises and welts or fuck him until his ass was raw and red, he wanted something from Zach, anything that could anchor him, that could tell Chris that he was wanted.
Zach was right; this was punishment, being left all alone. And yet, he could feel Zach's come inside him, warm and slick between his ass cheeks, held in by the massive plug Karl had first placed inside him. It was a reminder, much like the cock ring that held Zach's cock captive for days, that he belonged to someone.
Chris floated, as Karl had commanded. He let himself drift and breathed shallowly, waiting.
There was no way of knowing how much time had passed when the anal plug suddenly began to vibrate, nudging against his prostate. Chris twitched, his eyes remaining closed, though it took him by surprise. Someone—Zach, it had to be Zach—was controlling it remotely. It was yet another reminder that he was being watched, that his pleasure only occurred under someone else's deliberation. Chris thought of the equipment set up throughout Karl's house: video cameras and speakers everywhere, so Karl could observe his sub's every move.
They were watching him. Sinking him even deeper.
The plug's vibrations ratcheted, causing Chris' to jerk and gasp. Then it went off again, leaving behind a phantom sensation, a mere memory of its movement.
This wasn't what Chris wanted but it was what he needed. Zach was learning so much, and even after all this time, so was Chris.
*
Then.
He didn't bother to lock the hotel room door behind him after he slammed it shut. Karl was watching TV from the bed, but he stared at Chris as though he had three heads when he stomped around the room. It'd been a long day of pointless interviews for Chris, full of strangers telling him what to do and where to go and, in some cases, what to say. He was tired of it.
"What's gotten into you?" Karl asked, shutting off the television. Chris ignored him, going to the minibar and looking for something strong. "Bad day?" Karl egged on. "Want to talk about it?"
"With you? Fuck, no."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"You're just like everyone else. You treat me like a kid. You think I can't handle things. You think I'm a fucking child."
Chris quickly gulped down the contents of a small bottle of Jim Beam, wincing at the burn. Karl approached him with a loud sigh that set Chris off. He reached forward and grabbed a vase on the dresser, smashing it on the floor.
"Jesus!" Karl exclaimed, backing off. "I know you're a big star now, Pine, but you can't just go wrecking hotel rooms for the hell of it."
"I don't want to be a big star!" Chris yelled, turning to face him. "Don't you get it? I'm sick of these twelve-hour days of dealing with assholes who try to tell me who I am, or how I should be. I can't take it anymore; I feel like I'm constantly being pulled in ten different directions!"
"Chris," Karl said, approaching cautiously. "You need to calm down. We can talk about your feelings like rational human beings. We don't need to—"
"I don't want to talk," Chris hissed. He shoved Karl away with two hands, hard. Karl stumbled and blinked in surprise; then he moved forward to grapple with Chris, fumbling at first as Chris fought back. Karl wrenched Chris' arm away from him by force, pinned his chest to the wall and held him there. He kept his other hand clenched on the scruff of Chris' neck. Chris tried to buck him off but Karl pressed against him harder, forcing him to be completely still. They both breathed heavily for a few moments before Karl spoke, his voice strict and monotone.
"Be calm, Christopher," he instructed.
Chris exhaled shakily and went a little lax as the swell of frustrated anger inside him subsided. How exactly had Karl done that? And why was it making Chris so hard? Karl shifted against him, just enough to rock Chris forward into the wall. The soft moan that escaped Chris at the much-needed pressure on his groin was both unavoidable and embarrassing. Karl heard it loud and clear and paused before he let Chris' arm go.
"Strip and get on the bed," he ordered. "Hands and knees."
Chris' legs nearly gave way from the rush of excitement that those words elicited. "Are you—"
"Clearly, you need this more than I thought. So we'll try." Karl nodded and motioned to the bed. "Now, do as I tell you."
Chris got undressed in a hurry after that, scrambling onto the mattress on all fours as instructed. He could feel the heat of Karl's body behind him, and when he looked back, the smile on Karl's face appeared terse yet understanding.
"You need a safe word," Karl said. "Tell me now."
"Um." The mention of something as foreign as a safe word threw Chris off. He wasn't exactly sure he wanted Karl to hurt him to the extent that he'd need one. But he'd said he wanted to try, and if he didn't like it, Karl would surely understand it was a one-time thing. "Peridot," he said, the first word that came to mind. Karl quirked a brow and Chris shrugged. "I dunno. It's my birthstone."
"Interesting," Karl murmured. Then he smacked Chris hard on his left buttock. Chris gasped, his eyes going wide in surprise. He'd sort of known that was coming, but it was still more than he bargained for. "Count it," Karl ordered.
"One," Chris said quietly. Then he felt the hard sting of a second spank, much harder than the first. He hissed a breath between his teeth. Somehow, the muscles in his body lost some of their pent-up tension. "T-two."
Karl kept going, not suffering from any fatigue at all, and Chris felt ready to slip into the void by the time he counted off the twelfth slap. It had gone from a painful situation to a heady buzz that intensified with the shock and warmth of each hit. His cock hung heavy between his legs, flushed dark and wet at the tip, and Chris wanted nothing more than for Karl to touch him there. Karl grabbed one of Chris' arms when he was through with the spanking and pushed Chris' upper body down to the mattress, ignoring his cock altogether. He bound Chris' wrists together with a strip of fabric that Chris would later find out was his own tie.
"What's your safe word?" Karl asked, testing the knot. "Say it so I know you haven't forgotten."
Chris grunted, his head bent in a somewhat uncomfortable position that he'd probably feel later. "P-peridot," he answered. Karl made a sound of assent and went to fetch the lube he always carried in his jacket pocket.
"You're beautiful, Christopher," he finally said, as he slowly prepared Chris with slick fingers. "Not a child. A gorgeous, brilliant man. Do you know how I really feel about you? I bet you have no idea, do you?"
Chris keened, pushing back against Karl's fingers. He didn't trust himself to speak because he wasn't sure he could recall any words in the English language. And when Karl sank into him, his blunt fingernails digging deep into the pale swell of Chris' backside, he wasn't sure he would ever feel the need to speak again.
"I'm going to show you," Karl said. His thrusts forced Chris' cheek harder into the mattress. "I'm going to show you everything."
Chris spread his thighs and kept his eyes wide open.
*
Now.
"Chris."
He dared to open his eyes a fraction. That was Zach's voice. Chris hadn't heard the door open, but it was possible he'd been too zoned out to realize it. His head felt heavy and muddled with the amount of time he'd been lying there alone, though it felt like mere minutes had passed. He tried to lift up, just a little, in case there was a chance he could see Zach.
"I'm not there, sugar," Zach said softly, a dusting of laughter in his voice. "I'm talking to you through the speaker. I can see you, though. I can see you perfectly."
Chris shivered at sound of the laughter, feeling a new flood of warmth at the base of his cock. He shut his eyes again and waited for Zach to tell him what to do. The plug started to vibrate inside him again, at what seemed like the lowest setting.
"I'm going to leave that on for a while, Chris. To prepare you, in case I decide to come back soon. It's been hours, you know. You've been so good, so patient and still. I could sit here and watch you for days, I think...just knowing you're open and ready, just lying and waiting for me. God, you have no idea how hot that is, Chris. You have no clue what you're doing to me."
Chris let out a faint moan, running the flat of his tongue over the rubber of the gag in his mouth. If he pretended, he could imagine its slick surface was the pale skin of Zach's shoulder, or maybe the inside of his mouth. But he didn't want to pretend. If Zach was experiencing such intense emotions, then Chris wanted to scream at him to come in and take Chris the way they both desired.
But, he thought hazily, that wasn't the point of this. He knew that from experience.
"Chris," Zach's voice said, softer now. "Get yourself nice and hard for me. But don't come. If you come, I'll leave you there for another day."
He bit at the gag to hold back a groan, his body prickling with the excitement of getting to please Zach somehow. Chris flexed his fingers and wrapped them around the ties that held his arms apart, to gain some leverage. Then he began to rock his hips slowly, the plug shifting inside him as he moved. He was close to fully hard in mere seconds, the combination of the friction against his cock and the vibrating toy in his ass sending shuddery shocks of pleasure up his spine. The sound of Zach's encouraging voice intensified everything, though, to the point that Chris had to slow down to keep from coming and ruining everything.
"That's good, Chris...that's perfect," Zach sighed. His voice turned conspiratorial, then, a slightly darker edge to it. "You know I've already come twice just watching you? Once, Karl and I jacked each other off. God, you should have seen it."
Chris felt a fresh wave of heat pool in his gut at the idea of it: Zach and Karl taking their pleasure from each other with Chris as the catalyst. He bucked against the bed, hard enough that he worried he'd inadvertently come. But when Chris pressed his hips down again, there was no telltale wet warmth. He was safe for now.
Zach chuckled, the sound of it like nefarious fingertips walking down Chris' spine.
"Just a little longer, Chris. Soon."
He turned up the plug's intensity and then he was gone.
*
Then.
He was tied to the refrigerator door and fabric covered his eyes and there was hot breath against the tip of his cock about to turn into hot suction, and as much as Chris wanted it, his mind raced and raced and he felt the worry creep from the base of his spine to the dry surface of his tongue before he could stop it.
"Ah...peridot!"
A half second later, the blindfold lifted and he could see again. Chris blinked and adjusted back to the light, then realized Karl was hovering in front of him, touching his face carefully, as though Chris had been wounded.
"Okay?" Karl asked, looking deep into his eyes. "You all right? How's your breathing? Can you breathe?"
"Huh?" Chris licked his lips and shook his head. "Yeah, no...I'm fine. I'm okay. I can breathe fine." He looked up as Karl unknotted the ties around his wrist. "That's it? It's over?"
"Yeah, it... I want to make sure you're all right." Karl gave him a confused, if slightly concerned look. He kissed Chris' forehead and rubbed his wrists with his thumbs, coaxing the circulation back to the delicate veins there. "You do realize you used your safe word, right?"
Chris swallowed, wondering if he could pass it off as accidental or unconscious. "Um, yeah," he said. He liked the way Karl was paying such close attention to him. It felt comforting, good. "I was, um...experimenting."
Karl stopped rubbing and looked up in surprise. Then one corner of his mouth turned up slightly, an awkward version of his usual smile. Chris felt the guilt hit him full force. He and Karl had been engaging in their play for about three weeks now and Chris had loved nearly every second of it. He was learning so much and Karl was the perfect dom, going at Chris' pace and never pushing so hard that Chris felt uncomfortable. Giving up control to Karl felt...intense. But natural. And always, always pleasurable, even when it hurt so much that he thought he might collapse in on himself. Those often turned out to be the best times—the moments when Chris felt truly free.
"I'm sorry," Chris blurted. He resisted the urge to push his face into Karl's chest and hide there. Karl just reached up and stroked his bicep.
"I get it," he said. "You needed to find out if you can really trust me. I get that."
Chris shrugged, feeling small. "It's not like I thought you wouldn't stop. I mean, I knew you would, y'know...pass the test. Not that I was trying to test you. I just, um..."
"You were, a little." Karl chuckled and looked Chris over. He paused. "It'd be smart if you chose a hand signal as well, you know."
"Hand signal?"
"For situations in which you're unable to speak." Karl tilted his head, slowly sliding his thumb over the swell of Chris' bottom lip. "In case you need to stop me after I've decided to plug that gorgeous mouth with a gag or stuff it full of my cock."
Chris shuddered, feeling his nerves ease with the silky sound of Karl's voice. Karl nudged the tip of his thumb between Chris' lips, right at the corner of his mouth, and Chris tongued it gently, dared to give it a small nip. Karl smirked, pushing his thumb further inside. Chris accepted it gratefully and sucked with fervor for as long as Karl would let him. Eventually, the digit left his mouth and traveled south, leaving a damp trail along Chris' throat, stopping at the divot of his collarbone.
"This," Chris whispered. He folded his right hand into a fist and let his pinky jut skyward.
"Okay," Karl murmured, smiling to him. "Continue or no?"
Chris nodded jerkily. "Please...yes."
A firm hand gripped Chris' shoulder and pushed him down to his knees. He winced with the unexpected impact.
"Christopher," Karl said, opening the fly of his jeans. He'd been clothed this entire time while Chris was nude. His voice dropped to a low, warning tone. "I'll allow it this time. You needed to know. But you won't test me again if you want this to continue."
It was a statement, not a question. Chris' tongue darted out to wet his lips at the sight of Karl's flushed cock.
"Yes, Karl," he said.
"Good boy."
He shut his eyes against the burn of Karl's blunt fingernails along his scalp and parted his lips to taste.
*
Now.
His fingers twitched with the desire to form a fist. To lift a single finger.
It had been so long. Chris still had no idea quite how long. His cock ached, chafing against his stomach and the unforgiving wrinkled plastic beneath him. The vibrations of the plug were maddening, getting more intense and then quiet, intense and then quiet.
Zach was having fun with him now. But Chris had been tested like this before.
At first, it barely registered when the speaker crackled to life again. But then Chris heard gasps and noises that weren't coming from him, and he knew Zach was back. The noises were wet—the sounds of kissing, of lips and tongues doing battle. Chris felt a tightening in his groin and the fog of his mind parted to usher in mental images of what was happening just in the next room.
"Fuck," Zach moaned quietly.
Chris could make out the rustle of fabric, the metallic whisper of a zipper being undone. Then another throaty moan. His thoughts grew garbled with the possibilities: Zach's hipbones and Karl's lush mouth; Zach's body, all lean muscle; Karl's elegant hands; thighs, clavicles, sharp teeth.
"Baby," Zach said, in between gasps for air. "He's getting me so hard for you."
Chris' ass cheeks clenched around the plug in anticipation, making the buzzing that much louder as the toy hit a new angle. Zach laughed under his breath.
"It's almost over, sugar...just a little longer now. Stay with me...stay with me and don't come until my cock is buried in your ass. I'm gonna—fuck, Karl, your tongue..."
Another moan, much louder this time. Chris felt himself start to shake in anticipation. He could practically feel his limits being pushed to the breaking point, the tension like hot fire ripping through his body; his muscles and his mind reduced to fragile elastic on the verge of a snap.
If it was for Zach, then he could do this. Just as he'd done it for Karl.
*
Then.
Chris had known there was going to be payback for the safe word "test." Punishment. He just didn't know how or when. His skin prickled every time he was around Karl; each lock of their eyes across a room made him shiver beneath his clothes. Karl was the planning type, to be sure. What made him so interesting was that he was also the execution type.
Karl could sense the moments in which Chris let his guard down. This time, he was puttering around Karl's apartment in his boxers and putting away laundry. He balled up socks and tossed them into an open drawer while listening to music on the dinky little iHome in the master bedroom. Karl had a busy day of meetings and lunches in preparation for a new film and he was down to his last pair of fresh underwear, so Chris didn't mind doing him the favor. He hummed along with the track that played, something he'd really loved back in college, and he zoned out as he worked, mulling over memories from that time.
Then a hot grip seized his wrists and there was a pull-push in the direction of the wall and his breath flew out from between his front teeth in a loud hiss as his torso met unyielding plaster. Chris could feel his heart beating frantically against the hard surface and his tongue burned, swelling in his mouth. He realized a second later that he'd bitten it. He sucked in a breath and lifted his chin, just as something blocked his vision: a swath of cotton tied in a hard knot by the base of his skull. The grating feeling of fabric against his eyelashes had him blinking more than usual, like a burn on the palate that he couldn't help but tongue.
Karl shoved a forceful hand into Chris' boxers and gripped his cock like it belonged to him. Chris knew right then that it did.
"You want to know what kind of dom I really am?" Karl whispered, hot and sinuous in Chris' ear. "I can show you. But you won't be the same."
It was all Chris could do not to fuck into Karl's fist. "God, please."
He was dragged away again, and he heard the creak of a door hinge. Karl lifted Chris' arms and secured some kind of cuffs around his wrists. Then a tight grip around his waist lifted him from the floor and he yelped. There was motion and his body seemed to sway forward slightly on its own, and then...nothing.
No Karl. No light that Chris could make out through the blindfold. No floor beneath his feet. The space must have been confined, whatever it was, because he could feel the graze of other objects against his bare skin. They were soft—clothes, maybe? They reeked of Karl's unmistakable scent: his aftershave, the salty undertones of his sweat, a tinge of tobacco. It was like being enveloped by Karl completely, and at the same time, mercilessly denied of his presence and his touch. Chris wriggled his body, trying to come into contact with more of the surrounding fabric. Each gentle glance made his dick pulse inside his boxers.
"It was my own fault," Chris heard Karl call from the other side of the door, "for giving you room to distrust me. After today, you won't question me again."
"Karl, wait," he gasped. But then it was quiet.
The initial panic subsided after a while, but the smell of Karl's belongings remained, wafting past Chris' nostrils and making his muscles clench. The brutal ache in his shoulders, a result of the suspension, eventually subsided into a dull throb that went straight to his groin. His thoughts began to cloud and grow fuzzy as his body succumbed to the one-two punch of pain and arousal; he lost track of time and then he lost track of himself, his physical presence. The front of his boxers became damp and stayed damp.
Chris exhaled as he dissolved into nerve endings, his conscious mind jettisoned from a fragile, quaking ship as it plunged into deep waters.
When the door did open again, it was careful and slow. Chris barely noticed it. Then there was warm breath along his jaw, a hand in his boxers again and a single fingertip tracing the delicate vein that ran along his cock from base to leaking tip—
"Christopher," Karl whispered. He smeared precome over the quivering swell of Chris' stomach. "Time to come for me."
His entire body jerked on its own volition. Chris sank to the ocean floor and never looked back to the surface.
*
Now.
Chris didn't hear the bedroom door swing ajar. He had no idea anyone else was in the room until the mattress shifted beneath him. Then he felt someone else's warmth and smelled a scent that he could recognize anywhere: Zach. The plug stopped vibrating and Chris whimpered, simultaneously relieved and bereft. The stinging sensation of tears gripped him before Zach even said a word. His shoulder blades shook, aching and sore, and Zach smoothed a careful hand between them, down the length of his spine. Only then did the tears flow, hot trails that dripped down his cheeks to his jaw.
"It's over, Chris," Zach whispered. "You were beautiful."
The ties around Chris' ankles came loose but he didn't bother to shift his legs. He wasn't sure he could move; his limbs had gone fairly numb hours ago and it would take a while before he could properly exercise those muscles again. Zach ran his hands slowly along the insides of Chris' shins up to his thighs, then carefully removed the plug. He ran his thumb gently, almost admiringly, over Chris' red, swollen entrance, still slick with the remnants of Zach's come. Chris moaned lowly around his ball gag. He wanted Zach to penetrate him so much that he couldn't have articulated it, even if he were allowed. Zach dropped a kiss to the small of Chris' back, murmuring soft words that Chris couldn't hear but which reassured him all the same.
Zach's blunt fingernails scratched teasingly up Chris' sides to his armpits. He bit lightly at Chris' nape as one hand shifted to remove the gag from his mouth. The cool air hit the inside of Chris' dry mouth and he made a shaky noise that sounded ripped from the back of his throat. Zach rubbed his back in wide, soothing circles and he waited until Chris settled before speaking again.
"You and Karl have shown me so much, Chris," Zach murmured. "I want to show you something, too."
Strong hands took hold of Chris' sides and carefully rolled him onto his back, the binds twisted above him but still holding his wrists in place. Chris opened his eyes halfway and peered up at the ceiling dazedly until Zach's face appeared, hovering over him with a soft, appreciative smile. He felt butterflies in his stomach, his breath coming in a rush. It was as though he were looking at his best friend for the first time.
"I know," Zach said. He kissed Chris' damp cheek and licked a drying trail of saline. "I understand now. I'll never run from you again."
Chris allowed himself a shaky breath. The memory of his fear that Zach would never come back washed over him anew. He had identified with Zach's worry—he recalled the scary moment when he, too, first realized this was bigger than him. Chris shut his eyes and let it all come back to him at once: the progression of his relationship with Karl and the startling ease with which he fell into his new role. He'd never dreamed he would come to need something so fiercely, that it would turn out to be as natural as breathing or sleeping—a part of his life that kept him functioning.
"Please," Chris said, his voice hoarse from disuse. He splayed his legs apart and Zach swallowed at the sight. Chris sighed as his legs were lifted, propped over Zach's shoulders, his hole probed by trembling yet elegant fingers.
"Our gorgeous boy," Zach whispered. "So wet and open for me. You want to be fucked, don't you? God, I can't deny you."
Zach shifted his hips forward and breached Chris slowly, waiting until the aching, abused muscles stopped contracting and relaxed enough to let him in. They both moaned their pleasure and Zach looked down at Chris with darkened eyes.
"He's watching us, you know," he said quietly, pressing his forehead to Chris' clammy brow. "He's with us."
Chris spared a brief glance for the camera as Zach began to thrust at last, opening him up and taking every part of Chris that he needed for himself. He imagined Karl in the adjacent room, twisting their fraying, faded ribbon between his fingers. He's always with me, Chris thought, his voice still too weak to properly speak it. His Chris dropped his head back, his heartbeat rapid and Zach's name on his lips as he flew toward a mind-bending, seemingly endless orgasm. And now, so are you.
*
Then.
Karl passed him a cigarette from their shared pack as soon as they got out of the town car, and then lit a match. Chris leaned toward the open flame cupped between Karl's palms and took a deep drag.
"All right?" Karl asked, his eyes searching Chris' face.
"Yeah. Just tired." Chris smiled softly as they walked up to Karl's building. He flicked his ashes into the faint, late October breeze. "Tonight was fun, though."
"You and Quinto were certainly a pair."
Chris looked away quickly. He wasn't quite sure how to talk about his relationship with Zach, which had blossomed on the press tour and now was a running joke among the Trek cast members. Lately Chris found himself increasingly drawn to his best friend and the way he carried himself with confidence and charisma. Tonight, Zach had looked absolutely flawless in his dark, pinstriped suit, his tie crisp and matte against the stark white of his dress shirt. He and Chris had spent the entire evening throwing each other meaningful looks across the dinner table and finishing each other's jokes. Chris thought he was the only one who noticed Zach's stare—his devastating dark eyes framed by even darker lashes, moving slowly over Chris' wine-slick lips as they parted ways with the rim of his glass—but Karl's comment made him rethink that assumption. It was naïve of Chris, admittedly, to think that anything escaped Karl's notice.
He shook his head, a brief flash of panic slicing through his brainwaves. He'd been flirting with Zach, likely looking too long to be acceptable.
"Not sure what you mean," Chris said. He finished his cigarette and flicked it away, dropping his gaze to the ground. Karl stepped in front of him to unlock the front door. He tipped Chris' chin up with two fingers, a smirk curving his lips.
"I think you do." Karl opened the door and walked through, holding it open for Chris. "Come on. Let's talk upstairs."
Chris licked his lips, recognizing the sinful undertones in Karl's voice. A few words from Karl's mouth were all it took to remind him that he was owned and understood; it was the best feeling in the world. Chris followed Karl up the stairs, as he always did, fingertips tingling in anticipation. But this time, he pictured Zach's deep brown eyes and the way they'd looked when he parted ways with Chris and Karl—that ardent, burnished gaze slowly trailing after them.
*
Rating: NC-17 with warnings
Pairing: Karl/Zach/Chris with heavy emphasis on both Karl/Chris and Zach/Chris
Word count: 7,700
Notes: A continuation of Red Ribbon, the Dom!Karl/Zach/Chris series that
ewinfic and I write together. This chapter explores Chris' venture into BDSM and charts the progression of his D/s relationship with Karl through flashbacks. Scenes in the present tense are mainly Zach/Chris and continued from the last chapter. Previous fics in the series are listed below. Thanks to all for your patience in receiving this installment.Warning: D/s, bondage, suspension, orgasm denial, toys.
Summary: Before Chris found himself infatuated with Zach, there was Karl and only Karl.
Red Ribbon
01 Come for Him | 02 The Christmas Package | 03 Return to Sender | 04 Tightening the Loop | 05 Special Delivery | 06 Unraveling | 07 The Punishment
Now.
Karl whispered, "Now take a look at Chris and tell me how you feel."
"I feel fucking fantastic," Zach said. "And maybe a little vengeful."
Chris moaned around the ball gag.
"Perfect."
Karl moved around to the side of the bed and leaned against the wall to watch.
*
Then.
Chris stood in the hallway, idly patting the pockets of his trousers, wishing he had a cigarette. In fact, he wished he'd worn jeans instead of trousers; he'd been so obsessed with the idea of making a good impression that he'd called nearly everyone he knew for advice on how to dress for the first read-through: his mom, his sister, even Beau. They'd all agreed on a clean, pressed dress shirt and trousers, preferably pleated.
Now he felt like a total tool, watching everyone walking around in jeans, even Zach Quinto, who laughed with a makeup artist at the other end of the corridor as though he didn't have a care in the world about how he looked or acted. Chris envied him, and not just for the comfortable outfit he wore. His fingers twitched, aching to clutch the warm cylinder of a cigarette.
After he was called inside the room, he glanced around at the U-shaped arrangement of tables, all the seats with names assigned to them. Chris found his chair and sat down, drumming his fingers idly as he glanced at the names on either side of him: Zachary Quinto and Karl Urban. The triumvirate, he'd learned, upon watching all of those DVDs of the original series. The sounds of idle chit-chat surrounded him. People trickled in and slowly made their ways to their seats.
Chris didn't hear the man sitting down to his left, but he felt the warmth of his body. He instinctively turned and opened his mouth to introduce himself, but his breath caught in his throat and stalled him. The guy took advantage of the silence and spoke first.
"Chris, right?" He held out his hand for a shake. His smile was wry and his hazel eyes twinkled as though they could see right through Chris and had already picked up on everything there was to know about him. "Karl Urban."
"Right. The sign...I gathered. Nice to meet you."
He took Karl's big hand in his own and shook it with vigor, just like he'd once been taught. He reminded himself to smile.
Karl just kept looking at him. Through him.
"A real pleasure," he said.
After it was over, applause ringing all around and the last of the introductions doled out, Chris found himself in the studio parking lot, squinting in the bright haze of the California sun. He touched his hip, where his cigarettes would normally be stuffed into his pocket, had he not forgotten them in his haste early that morning. Then he felt that warm presence beside him again and looked down to see a Marlboro Red hovering just below his nose, unfiltered side up.
"Here." Karl smiled when Chris took the cigarette, lighting one of his own. "You look like you need it."
"Man, you have no idea."
"I have some idea."
Chris laughed under his breath, slipping the cigarette between his lips. He leaned forward when Karl held out a lit match, until the tobacco caught the heat of the dancing flame.
*
Now.
There were hands on his ass, kneading almost painfully, sliding through the streams of come that were rapidly cooling and growing sticky on his skin. Chris pushed his face into the mattress as he felt Zach's hand drift away from his skin to grip the base of the large anal plug, shoving and twisting it inside him harshly. His muscles clenched briefly in protest and if not for the gag in his mouth, he might have cried out. A host of giddy thoughts crossed his mind as to what Zach might do with him.
He was bound to a bed, his limbs tied down so he was spread-eagle, and a sheet of cool plastic separated his body from the mattress. It warmed as Chris rutted against it, trying to angle the tip of the plug toward the place where he wanted to feel it most. Zach laughed darkly behind him, then whispered at a level just loud enough for Chris to hear above the rush of blood going past his ears.
"Oh, Chris...you have no idea how much I've looked forward to this moment. How many times I've thought about it over the past few days, thanks to your ceaseless teasing and torture. And now, here you are...all spread out and ready for me, just as you said you would be. Just as you wanted."
Chris whimpered his agreement around the gag and opened one eye when Zach stopped talking. He felt a dip in the mattress beside his head, then, and Karl's unmistakable fingers combed gently through his hair, massaging his scalp and making him tingle down to his toes. Chris sighed and felt his muscles start to relax, felt his conscious mind start to drift as he focused on the pleasurable sensation combined with the lingering sting in his asshole. Then the fingers flexed, burying themselves in his short hair and tugging hard, pulling his head up. He moaned in protest and looked up at Karl imploringly. Karl—Karl would give him what he needed, what he craved.
But Karl just looked at him, no pity or remorse in his eyes. It was a knowing gaze, the one that held all of Chris' basest secrets captive. It read Chris' expression, heard his request, and gave nothing back in return.
"Zachary is calling the shots here now," he said quietly. He tilted his head, holding Chris' gaze. "I'm giving you to him. If this is what you want, then you'll accept what he's offering. Is this what you want, Christopher?"
Chris' mind felt hazy but he could understand what Karl was saying. Yes, this was what he'd wanted for months now, to belong to Zach just as much as he belonged to Karl; to luxuriate in the embarrassment of riches that was two gorgeous men who knew Chris well enough to claim him. He nodded slightly, his eyelids drooping with the weight of the possibilities. Karl nodded back and looked off to where Zach knelt on the bed, between Chris' spread legs.
"Thank you, Chris," Zach said softly, almost reverently, so Chris could tell he meant it. "In that case," he continued, "I don't think I'm the only one who deserves his share of punishment today."
*
Then.
He tried to keep his distance at first. It was a crush and Chris highly doubted Karl would take it seriously. He was older and more experienced and had probably dealt with plenty of co-stars throwing themselves at him in the past. Chris knew it was something he ought to keep under wraps—that he should simply be grateful that Karl liked him enough to pal around with him on set, to go out with him for beers when shooting wrapped early, and to pick Chris as his teammate in rounds of pool with the others.
Except it wasn't enough, and that became all too clear one night when Chris spied Karl coming out of his trailer after they'd wrapped the shuttle scene, his face shadowed with scruff and his hair wild and untamed. Karl was about to light a cigarette when Chris ignored every ounce of sense he had and grabbed him by his jacket, pulling him to the side of the trailer, where they'd be hidden from sight. Karl blinked at him once in surprise before Chris locked him into a hungry kiss, hands pawing at his clothes. A thrill shot up and down Chris' spine when Karl immediately responded, dropping the cigarette and lighter and pulling Chris close. They went at it with sharp teeth and clever tongues for a few tantalizing minutes, until Karl grabbed Chris' wrists and pulled back.
"Been wanting to do that for a while?" he asked, slightly hoarse. Chris laughed, suddenly bashful.
"Yeah, a long while. Like, since I first met you."
Karl quirked a smile, looking surprised and amused and smug all at once. Then he arched a brow. "You drunk?"
"Not right now. Not today."
"Well, good," Karl said. "Let's carry on, then."
Karl initiated the kiss again, a bit slower this time but just as hungry. Chris felt himself melt into things as Karl took the lead. Karl's tongue flickered against the edges of his teeth just as his hand slid up under Chris' worn T-shirt, a hot brand against his pale skin. Chris uttered a soft, yielding sigh into Karl's mouth. He felt Karl take pause, his movements slowing to a more deliberate pace. Then, as if testing a theory, Karl's fingers carefully wrapped around Chris' wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. It was forceful but not painful, not really, and Chris couldn't help the involuntary buck of his hips that followed. Karl smiled into the kiss, flipping their positions so Chris' back met the hard steel of the trailer.
"You good?" Karl asked, his voice whisper-soft. Chris bit back a moan and nodded, grinding into him.
"God, yeah." Chris looked into Karl's heated gaze and felt a wave of arousal at the hidden promise there, to call all the shots if Chris wanted him to. He licked his lips, both nervous and excited. "Carry on."
He'd never seen Karl look quite so pleased.
*
Now.
Punishment. Chris tried to jerk his head back when he heard that, but Karl kept it held high. Zach removed the plug in Chris' ass without fanfare or hesitation. It made a slick popping sound as it left his body and Chris tensed in his bonds, his teeth knocking against the plastic wedged firmly in his mouth. Zach continued to speak, fluidly and softly, his hands spreading Chris' quivering cheeks apart, revealing his reddened hole to the air.
"You really think I'm just going to give you what you want? After the way you acted? That there won't be consequences for your actions?" he whispered. "You must not know me that well. But I can teach you."
Chris' ass was still painted with Zach's come and he felt those devious fingers working him over again, gathering what was there. Zach pushed the come into him harshly, and Chris barely had time to register what was happening before he felt the intrusion of the plug again. His lashes fluttered as sweat began to pool on his brow, his neck aching from the forced position of his head.
"As much as I would love to have my way with you right this second," Zach went on, wiping his fingers on the back of Chris' thigh, "I think you deserve to lie here for a few hours with my come trapped inside you. Maybe a whole day. Alone."
Chris' reaction was immediate, his dissenting cries muffled by the gag in his mouth as he looked to Karl for help. Karl's expression gave away nothing; he looked to Zach briefly before letting Chris' hair go, and Chris fell back to the bed's lining, his cheek sticking to it. He peeled himself away from the plastic and a sharp sting flared under his skin. Karl had to stop this, had to keep this from happening, it wasn't how this was supposed to go...but then Chris felt Karl's touch, a rough grip on his nape, his fingers squeezing in a way that immediately stilled Chris.
"This is Zachary's punishment for you. Your only job here is to take it," he said calmly. He squeezed again, lightly, and Chris trembled under him. "Now go down and stay down, Christopher."
Chris did. He exhaled heavily through his nostrils and let the tension flow out of his body, as instructed. A few moments later, Karl stroked him once behind his ear before lifting his hand away. He heard murmuring between Karl and Zach but it was difficult to concentrate on it. Chris could only see Karl's heavy gaze when he closed his eyes, telling him everything he needed to know, all that he had come to rely on: I know what you need better than you do.
The lights went out above him and the sound of the door clicking shut echoed throughout the room. Chris' lingering thoughts slowly turned to Zach.
*
Then.
Zoe cleared her throat and gave her next words some thought before she spoke.
"Never have I ever had sex in a car."
Chris looked around the circle seated on the floor of Zoe's living room. Then he sighed in defeat and downed his next shot, as did Karl, Zach, and Anton. John gaped comically, wondering aloud where everyone's sense of romance was while Zoe smothered laughter into her hand. Chris had to keep his own smug little smile off his face; he and Karl had just done it in a car the other night. A rented car, no less. Not that anyone there knew about the fact that they were fucking, let alone the fact it occasionally occurred in motor vehicles.
"Who's next?" he asked, and Anton raised his hand.
"Never have I ever done BDSM."
At that, Karl and John both drank down shots. Karl seemed rather unfazed by the answering gasps and laughter, while John looked a little guilty.
"I had this gift certificate for a session with a dominatrix. It was a birthday gift!"
"Sure, birthday gift," Zach said, smirking.
"I didn't say I liked it," John clarified. He paused and shrugged. "Well, I liked it a little. But not all of it!"
Everyone was so busy laughing along with John's fumbling explanations that no one but Chris seemed to remember that another person had taken a drink. He stared openly as Karl licked a lingering drop of whisky from his shot glass, his lips obscene against the glistening rim. Karl looked up, feeling the daggers on him, and didn't do much to hide his answering smirk, the one that never failed to go straight to Chris' cock.
It was three shots later by the time Karl excused himself to piss. When he was done, Chris was waiting for him in the narrow little hallway. He pressed Karl up against the wall, whispering so as not to make the others suspicious.
"Okay, not cool," he slurred, leaning close. "You never told me you were into...into that. When did you do it?"
Karl laughed a little, visibly intoxicated. His laughter was usually sexy but right now, it pissed Chris off.
"Plenty of times," he said. "What, you're jealous or something?"
"No, I just would have liked to have known. Okay? I mean, you never told me that you were into whips and chains and shit."
"Christopher," Karl said sternly, in a way that made Chris' cock pay attention. "First of all, it has nothing to do with all that, and secondly...I am not talking about this with you in the fucking corridor next to Zoe's toilet. I'm drunk and you're drunk, and it's neither the time nor the place. All right?"
Chris blinked up at him slowly. "S'kinda hot when you say my name like that."
"I'm glad," Karl said. "Now let's go back inside before we—"
"But why can't you tell me about it?" Chris insisted, squinting. "I'm interested! I want to know more. Maybe...maybe I want to try it with you. I mean, you're already the top. I let you bend me over everything, and—"
Karl clamped a hand over Chris' mouth. He glanced toward the other room and only let go when he heard the others laughing amongst themselves, oblivious. He ran a hand through his hair and pursed his lips.
"It's not what you think it is, Chris. It's a commitment, okay? You couldn't handle it. You're not the type."
"Who says I'm not?"
"I said no, Chris."
Chris kept his mouth shut and leaned against the opposite wall as Karl headed back to the living room. He didn't know if he would remember any of this the next day, but for the rest of the night, he was ticked off and horny, thinking all of Karl's words to death.
*
Now.
It was quiet. Deathly quiet.
Dark, too. The lights were turned off in the room and Chris had nothing to guide him, aside from the occasional squeaks of the plastic when he shifted one of his limbs. The only other constant was the low buzzing in his ears that wasn't a sound so much as it was a hum of arousal. It surged insistently throughout his body and made him feel as though he were floating.
This was not what he wanted. What he wanted was for Zach to come back and use him, however he saw fit—whether he wanted to paint Chris' body with bruises and welts or fuck him until his ass was raw and red, he wanted something from Zach, anything that could anchor him, that could tell Chris that he was wanted.
Zach was right; this was punishment, being left all alone. And yet, he could feel Zach's come inside him, warm and slick between his ass cheeks, held in by the massive plug Karl had first placed inside him. It was a reminder, much like the cock ring that held Zach's cock captive for days, that he belonged to someone.
Chris floated, as Karl had commanded. He let himself drift and breathed shallowly, waiting.
There was no way of knowing how much time had passed when the anal plug suddenly began to vibrate, nudging against his prostate. Chris twitched, his eyes remaining closed, though it took him by surprise. Someone—Zach, it had to be Zach—was controlling it remotely. It was yet another reminder that he was being watched, that his pleasure only occurred under someone else's deliberation. Chris thought of the equipment set up throughout Karl's house: video cameras and speakers everywhere, so Karl could observe his sub's every move.
They were watching him. Sinking him even deeper.
The plug's vibrations ratcheted, causing Chris' to jerk and gasp. Then it went off again, leaving behind a phantom sensation, a mere memory of its movement.
This wasn't what Chris wanted but it was what he needed. Zach was learning so much, and even after all this time, so was Chris.
*
Then.
He didn't bother to lock the hotel room door behind him after he slammed it shut. Karl was watching TV from the bed, but he stared at Chris as though he had three heads when he stomped around the room. It'd been a long day of pointless interviews for Chris, full of strangers telling him what to do and where to go and, in some cases, what to say. He was tired of it.
"What's gotten into you?" Karl asked, shutting off the television. Chris ignored him, going to the minibar and looking for something strong. "Bad day?" Karl egged on. "Want to talk about it?"
"With you? Fuck, no."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"You're just like everyone else. You treat me like a kid. You think I can't handle things. You think I'm a fucking child."
Chris quickly gulped down the contents of a small bottle of Jim Beam, wincing at the burn. Karl approached him with a loud sigh that set Chris off. He reached forward and grabbed a vase on the dresser, smashing it on the floor.
"Jesus!" Karl exclaimed, backing off. "I know you're a big star now, Pine, but you can't just go wrecking hotel rooms for the hell of it."
"I don't want to be a big star!" Chris yelled, turning to face him. "Don't you get it? I'm sick of these twelve-hour days of dealing with assholes who try to tell me who I am, or how I should be. I can't take it anymore; I feel like I'm constantly being pulled in ten different directions!"
"Chris," Karl said, approaching cautiously. "You need to calm down. We can talk about your feelings like rational human beings. We don't need to—"
"I don't want to talk," Chris hissed. He shoved Karl away with two hands, hard. Karl stumbled and blinked in surprise; then he moved forward to grapple with Chris, fumbling at first as Chris fought back. Karl wrenched Chris' arm away from him by force, pinned his chest to the wall and held him there. He kept his other hand clenched on the scruff of Chris' neck. Chris tried to buck him off but Karl pressed against him harder, forcing him to be completely still. They both breathed heavily for a few moments before Karl spoke, his voice strict and monotone.
"Be calm, Christopher," he instructed.
Chris exhaled shakily and went a little lax as the swell of frustrated anger inside him subsided. How exactly had Karl done that? And why was it making Chris so hard? Karl shifted against him, just enough to rock Chris forward into the wall. The soft moan that escaped Chris at the much-needed pressure on his groin was both unavoidable and embarrassing. Karl heard it loud and clear and paused before he let Chris' arm go.
"Strip and get on the bed," he ordered. "Hands and knees."
Chris' legs nearly gave way from the rush of excitement that those words elicited. "Are you—"
"Clearly, you need this more than I thought. So we'll try." Karl nodded and motioned to the bed. "Now, do as I tell you."
Chris got undressed in a hurry after that, scrambling onto the mattress on all fours as instructed. He could feel the heat of Karl's body behind him, and when he looked back, the smile on Karl's face appeared terse yet understanding.
"You need a safe word," Karl said. "Tell me now."
"Um." The mention of something as foreign as a safe word threw Chris off. He wasn't exactly sure he wanted Karl to hurt him to the extent that he'd need one. But he'd said he wanted to try, and if he didn't like it, Karl would surely understand it was a one-time thing. "Peridot," he said, the first word that came to mind. Karl quirked a brow and Chris shrugged. "I dunno. It's my birthstone."
"Interesting," Karl murmured. Then he smacked Chris hard on his left buttock. Chris gasped, his eyes going wide in surprise. He'd sort of known that was coming, but it was still more than he bargained for. "Count it," Karl ordered.
"One," Chris said quietly. Then he felt the hard sting of a second spank, much harder than the first. He hissed a breath between his teeth. Somehow, the muscles in his body lost some of their pent-up tension. "T-two."
Karl kept going, not suffering from any fatigue at all, and Chris felt ready to slip into the void by the time he counted off the twelfth slap. It had gone from a painful situation to a heady buzz that intensified with the shock and warmth of each hit. His cock hung heavy between his legs, flushed dark and wet at the tip, and Chris wanted nothing more than for Karl to touch him there. Karl grabbed one of Chris' arms when he was through with the spanking and pushed Chris' upper body down to the mattress, ignoring his cock altogether. He bound Chris' wrists together with a strip of fabric that Chris would later find out was his own tie.
"What's your safe word?" Karl asked, testing the knot. "Say it so I know you haven't forgotten."
Chris grunted, his head bent in a somewhat uncomfortable position that he'd probably feel later. "P-peridot," he answered. Karl made a sound of assent and went to fetch the lube he always carried in his jacket pocket.
"You're beautiful, Christopher," he finally said, as he slowly prepared Chris with slick fingers. "Not a child. A gorgeous, brilliant man. Do you know how I really feel about you? I bet you have no idea, do you?"
Chris keened, pushing back against Karl's fingers. He didn't trust himself to speak because he wasn't sure he could recall any words in the English language. And when Karl sank into him, his blunt fingernails digging deep into the pale swell of Chris' backside, he wasn't sure he would ever feel the need to speak again.
"I'm going to show you," Karl said. His thrusts forced Chris' cheek harder into the mattress. "I'm going to show you everything."
Chris spread his thighs and kept his eyes wide open.
*
Now.
"Chris."
He dared to open his eyes a fraction. That was Zach's voice. Chris hadn't heard the door open, but it was possible he'd been too zoned out to realize it. His head felt heavy and muddled with the amount of time he'd been lying there alone, though it felt like mere minutes had passed. He tried to lift up, just a little, in case there was a chance he could see Zach.
"I'm not there, sugar," Zach said softly, a dusting of laughter in his voice. "I'm talking to you through the speaker. I can see you, though. I can see you perfectly."
Chris shivered at sound of the laughter, feeling a new flood of warmth at the base of his cock. He shut his eyes again and waited for Zach to tell him what to do. The plug started to vibrate inside him again, at what seemed like the lowest setting.
"I'm going to leave that on for a while, Chris. To prepare you, in case I decide to come back soon. It's been hours, you know. You've been so good, so patient and still. I could sit here and watch you for days, I think...just knowing you're open and ready, just lying and waiting for me. God, you have no idea how hot that is, Chris. You have no clue what you're doing to me."
Chris let out a faint moan, running the flat of his tongue over the rubber of the gag in his mouth. If he pretended, he could imagine its slick surface was the pale skin of Zach's shoulder, or maybe the inside of his mouth. But he didn't want to pretend. If Zach was experiencing such intense emotions, then Chris wanted to scream at him to come in and take Chris the way they both desired.
But, he thought hazily, that wasn't the point of this. He knew that from experience.
"Chris," Zach's voice said, softer now. "Get yourself nice and hard for me. But don't come. If you come, I'll leave you there for another day."
He bit at the gag to hold back a groan, his body prickling with the excitement of getting to please Zach somehow. Chris flexed his fingers and wrapped them around the ties that held his arms apart, to gain some leverage. Then he began to rock his hips slowly, the plug shifting inside him as he moved. He was close to fully hard in mere seconds, the combination of the friction against his cock and the vibrating toy in his ass sending shuddery shocks of pleasure up his spine. The sound of Zach's encouraging voice intensified everything, though, to the point that Chris had to slow down to keep from coming and ruining everything.
"That's good, Chris...that's perfect," Zach sighed. His voice turned conspiratorial, then, a slightly darker edge to it. "You know I've already come twice just watching you? Once, Karl and I jacked each other off. God, you should have seen it."
Chris felt a fresh wave of heat pool in his gut at the idea of it: Zach and Karl taking their pleasure from each other with Chris as the catalyst. He bucked against the bed, hard enough that he worried he'd inadvertently come. But when Chris pressed his hips down again, there was no telltale wet warmth. He was safe for now.
Zach chuckled, the sound of it like nefarious fingertips walking down Chris' spine.
"Just a little longer, Chris. Soon."
He turned up the plug's intensity and then he was gone.
*
Then.
He was tied to the refrigerator door and fabric covered his eyes and there was hot breath against the tip of his cock about to turn into hot suction, and as much as Chris wanted it, his mind raced and raced and he felt the worry creep from the base of his spine to the dry surface of his tongue before he could stop it.
"Ah...peridot!"
A half second later, the blindfold lifted and he could see again. Chris blinked and adjusted back to the light, then realized Karl was hovering in front of him, touching his face carefully, as though Chris had been wounded.
"Okay?" Karl asked, looking deep into his eyes. "You all right? How's your breathing? Can you breathe?"
"Huh?" Chris licked his lips and shook his head. "Yeah, no...I'm fine. I'm okay. I can breathe fine." He looked up as Karl unknotted the ties around his wrist. "That's it? It's over?"
"Yeah, it... I want to make sure you're all right." Karl gave him a confused, if slightly concerned look. He kissed Chris' forehead and rubbed his wrists with his thumbs, coaxing the circulation back to the delicate veins there. "You do realize you used your safe word, right?"
Chris swallowed, wondering if he could pass it off as accidental or unconscious. "Um, yeah," he said. He liked the way Karl was paying such close attention to him. It felt comforting, good. "I was, um...experimenting."
Karl stopped rubbing and looked up in surprise. Then one corner of his mouth turned up slightly, an awkward version of his usual smile. Chris felt the guilt hit him full force. He and Karl had been engaging in their play for about three weeks now and Chris had loved nearly every second of it. He was learning so much and Karl was the perfect dom, going at Chris' pace and never pushing so hard that Chris felt uncomfortable. Giving up control to Karl felt...intense. But natural. And always, always pleasurable, even when it hurt so much that he thought he might collapse in on himself. Those often turned out to be the best times—the moments when Chris felt truly free.
"I'm sorry," Chris blurted. He resisted the urge to push his face into Karl's chest and hide there. Karl just reached up and stroked his bicep.
"I get it," he said. "You needed to find out if you can really trust me. I get that."
Chris shrugged, feeling small. "It's not like I thought you wouldn't stop. I mean, I knew you would, y'know...pass the test. Not that I was trying to test you. I just, um..."
"You were, a little." Karl chuckled and looked Chris over. He paused. "It'd be smart if you chose a hand signal as well, you know."
"Hand signal?"
"For situations in which you're unable to speak." Karl tilted his head, slowly sliding his thumb over the swell of Chris' bottom lip. "In case you need to stop me after I've decided to plug that gorgeous mouth with a gag or stuff it full of my cock."
Chris shuddered, feeling his nerves ease with the silky sound of Karl's voice. Karl nudged the tip of his thumb between Chris' lips, right at the corner of his mouth, and Chris tongued it gently, dared to give it a small nip. Karl smirked, pushing his thumb further inside. Chris accepted it gratefully and sucked with fervor for as long as Karl would let him. Eventually, the digit left his mouth and traveled south, leaving a damp trail along Chris' throat, stopping at the divot of his collarbone.
"This," Chris whispered. He folded his right hand into a fist and let his pinky jut skyward.
"Okay," Karl murmured, smiling to him. "Continue or no?"
Chris nodded jerkily. "Please...yes."
A firm hand gripped Chris' shoulder and pushed him down to his knees. He winced with the unexpected impact.
"Christopher," Karl said, opening the fly of his jeans. He'd been clothed this entire time while Chris was nude. His voice dropped to a low, warning tone. "I'll allow it this time. You needed to know. But you won't test me again if you want this to continue."
It was a statement, not a question. Chris' tongue darted out to wet his lips at the sight of Karl's flushed cock.
"Yes, Karl," he said.
"Good boy."
He shut his eyes against the burn of Karl's blunt fingernails along his scalp and parted his lips to taste.
*
Now.
His fingers twitched with the desire to form a fist. To lift a single finger.
It had been so long. Chris still had no idea quite how long. His cock ached, chafing against his stomach and the unforgiving wrinkled plastic beneath him. The vibrations of the plug were maddening, getting more intense and then quiet, intense and then quiet.
Zach was having fun with him now. But Chris had been tested like this before.
At first, it barely registered when the speaker crackled to life again. But then Chris heard gasps and noises that weren't coming from him, and he knew Zach was back. The noises were wet—the sounds of kissing, of lips and tongues doing battle. Chris felt a tightening in his groin and the fog of his mind parted to usher in mental images of what was happening just in the next room.
"Fuck," Zach moaned quietly.
Chris could make out the rustle of fabric, the metallic whisper of a zipper being undone. Then another throaty moan. His thoughts grew garbled with the possibilities: Zach's hipbones and Karl's lush mouth; Zach's body, all lean muscle; Karl's elegant hands; thighs, clavicles, sharp teeth.
"Baby," Zach said, in between gasps for air. "He's getting me so hard for you."
Chris' ass cheeks clenched around the plug in anticipation, making the buzzing that much louder as the toy hit a new angle. Zach laughed under his breath.
"It's almost over, sugar...just a little longer now. Stay with me...stay with me and don't come until my cock is buried in your ass. I'm gonna—fuck, Karl, your tongue..."
Another moan, much louder this time. Chris felt himself start to shake in anticipation. He could practically feel his limits being pushed to the breaking point, the tension like hot fire ripping through his body; his muscles and his mind reduced to fragile elastic on the verge of a snap.
If it was for Zach, then he could do this. Just as he'd done it for Karl.
*
Then.
Chris had known there was going to be payback for the safe word "test." Punishment. He just didn't know how or when. His skin prickled every time he was around Karl; each lock of their eyes across a room made him shiver beneath his clothes. Karl was the planning type, to be sure. What made him so interesting was that he was also the execution type.
Karl could sense the moments in which Chris let his guard down. This time, he was puttering around Karl's apartment in his boxers and putting away laundry. He balled up socks and tossed them into an open drawer while listening to music on the dinky little iHome in the master bedroom. Karl had a busy day of meetings and lunches in preparation for a new film and he was down to his last pair of fresh underwear, so Chris didn't mind doing him the favor. He hummed along with the track that played, something he'd really loved back in college, and he zoned out as he worked, mulling over memories from that time.
Then a hot grip seized his wrists and there was a pull-push in the direction of the wall and his breath flew out from between his front teeth in a loud hiss as his torso met unyielding plaster. Chris could feel his heart beating frantically against the hard surface and his tongue burned, swelling in his mouth. He realized a second later that he'd bitten it. He sucked in a breath and lifted his chin, just as something blocked his vision: a swath of cotton tied in a hard knot by the base of his skull. The grating feeling of fabric against his eyelashes had him blinking more than usual, like a burn on the palate that he couldn't help but tongue.
Karl shoved a forceful hand into Chris' boxers and gripped his cock like it belonged to him. Chris knew right then that it did.
"You want to know what kind of dom I really am?" Karl whispered, hot and sinuous in Chris' ear. "I can show you. But you won't be the same."
It was all Chris could do not to fuck into Karl's fist. "God, please."
He was dragged away again, and he heard the creak of a door hinge. Karl lifted Chris' arms and secured some kind of cuffs around his wrists. Then a tight grip around his waist lifted him from the floor and he yelped. There was motion and his body seemed to sway forward slightly on its own, and then...nothing.
No Karl. No light that Chris could make out through the blindfold. No floor beneath his feet. The space must have been confined, whatever it was, because he could feel the graze of other objects against his bare skin. They were soft—clothes, maybe? They reeked of Karl's unmistakable scent: his aftershave, the salty undertones of his sweat, a tinge of tobacco. It was like being enveloped by Karl completely, and at the same time, mercilessly denied of his presence and his touch. Chris wriggled his body, trying to come into contact with more of the surrounding fabric. Each gentle glance made his dick pulse inside his boxers.
"It was my own fault," Chris heard Karl call from the other side of the door, "for giving you room to distrust me. After today, you won't question me again."
"Karl, wait," he gasped. But then it was quiet.
The initial panic subsided after a while, but the smell of Karl's belongings remained, wafting past Chris' nostrils and making his muscles clench. The brutal ache in his shoulders, a result of the suspension, eventually subsided into a dull throb that went straight to his groin. His thoughts began to cloud and grow fuzzy as his body succumbed to the one-two punch of pain and arousal; he lost track of time and then he lost track of himself, his physical presence. The front of his boxers became damp and stayed damp.
Chris exhaled as he dissolved into nerve endings, his conscious mind jettisoned from a fragile, quaking ship as it plunged into deep waters.
When the door did open again, it was careful and slow. Chris barely noticed it. Then there was warm breath along his jaw, a hand in his boxers again and a single fingertip tracing the delicate vein that ran along his cock from base to leaking tip—
"Christopher," Karl whispered. He smeared precome over the quivering swell of Chris' stomach. "Time to come for me."
His entire body jerked on its own volition. Chris sank to the ocean floor and never looked back to the surface.
*
Now.
Chris didn't hear the bedroom door swing ajar. He had no idea anyone else was in the room until the mattress shifted beneath him. Then he felt someone else's warmth and smelled a scent that he could recognize anywhere: Zach. The plug stopped vibrating and Chris whimpered, simultaneously relieved and bereft. The stinging sensation of tears gripped him before Zach even said a word. His shoulder blades shook, aching and sore, and Zach smoothed a careful hand between them, down the length of his spine. Only then did the tears flow, hot trails that dripped down his cheeks to his jaw.
"It's over, Chris," Zach whispered. "You were beautiful."
The ties around Chris' ankles came loose but he didn't bother to shift his legs. He wasn't sure he could move; his limbs had gone fairly numb hours ago and it would take a while before he could properly exercise those muscles again. Zach ran his hands slowly along the insides of Chris' shins up to his thighs, then carefully removed the plug. He ran his thumb gently, almost admiringly, over Chris' red, swollen entrance, still slick with the remnants of Zach's come. Chris moaned lowly around his ball gag. He wanted Zach to penetrate him so much that he couldn't have articulated it, even if he were allowed. Zach dropped a kiss to the small of Chris' back, murmuring soft words that Chris couldn't hear but which reassured him all the same.
Zach's blunt fingernails scratched teasingly up Chris' sides to his armpits. He bit lightly at Chris' nape as one hand shifted to remove the gag from his mouth. The cool air hit the inside of Chris' dry mouth and he made a shaky noise that sounded ripped from the back of his throat. Zach rubbed his back in wide, soothing circles and he waited until Chris settled before speaking again.
"You and Karl have shown me so much, Chris," Zach murmured. "I want to show you something, too."
Strong hands took hold of Chris' sides and carefully rolled him onto his back, the binds twisted above him but still holding his wrists in place. Chris opened his eyes halfway and peered up at the ceiling dazedly until Zach's face appeared, hovering over him with a soft, appreciative smile. He felt butterflies in his stomach, his breath coming in a rush. It was as though he were looking at his best friend for the first time.
"I know," Zach said. He kissed Chris' damp cheek and licked a drying trail of saline. "I understand now. I'll never run from you again."
Chris allowed himself a shaky breath. The memory of his fear that Zach would never come back washed over him anew. He had identified with Zach's worry—he recalled the scary moment when he, too, first realized this was bigger than him. Chris shut his eyes and let it all come back to him at once: the progression of his relationship with Karl and the startling ease with which he fell into his new role. He'd never dreamed he would come to need something so fiercely, that it would turn out to be as natural as breathing or sleeping—a part of his life that kept him functioning.
"Please," Chris said, his voice hoarse from disuse. He splayed his legs apart and Zach swallowed at the sight. Chris sighed as his legs were lifted, propped over Zach's shoulders, his hole probed by trembling yet elegant fingers.
"Our gorgeous boy," Zach whispered. "So wet and open for me. You want to be fucked, don't you? God, I can't deny you."
Zach shifted his hips forward and breached Chris slowly, waiting until the aching, abused muscles stopped contracting and relaxed enough to let him in. They both moaned their pleasure and Zach looked down at Chris with darkened eyes.
"He's watching us, you know," he said quietly, pressing his forehead to Chris' clammy brow. "He's with us."
Chris spared a brief glance for the camera as Zach began to thrust at last, opening him up and taking every part of Chris that he needed for himself. He imagined Karl in the adjacent room, twisting their fraying, faded ribbon between his fingers. He's always with me, Chris thought, his voice still too weak to properly speak it. His Chris dropped his head back, his heartbeat rapid and Zach's name on his lips as he flew toward a mind-bending, seemingly endless orgasm. And now, so are you.
*
Then.
Karl passed him a cigarette from their shared pack as soon as they got out of the town car, and then lit a match. Chris leaned toward the open flame cupped between Karl's palms and took a deep drag.
"All right?" Karl asked, his eyes searching Chris' face.
"Yeah. Just tired." Chris smiled softly as they walked up to Karl's building. He flicked his ashes into the faint, late October breeze. "Tonight was fun, though."
"You and Quinto were certainly a pair."
Chris looked away quickly. He wasn't quite sure how to talk about his relationship with Zach, which had blossomed on the press tour and now was a running joke among the Trek cast members. Lately Chris found himself increasingly drawn to his best friend and the way he carried himself with confidence and charisma. Tonight, Zach had looked absolutely flawless in his dark, pinstriped suit, his tie crisp and matte against the stark white of his dress shirt. He and Chris had spent the entire evening throwing each other meaningful looks across the dinner table and finishing each other's jokes. Chris thought he was the only one who noticed Zach's stare—his devastating dark eyes framed by even darker lashes, moving slowly over Chris' wine-slick lips as they parted ways with the rim of his glass—but Karl's comment made him rethink that assumption. It was naïve of Chris, admittedly, to think that anything escaped Karl's notice.
He shook his head, a brief flash of panic slicing through his brainwaves. He'd been flirting with Zach, likely looking too long to be acceptable.
"Not sure what you mean," Chris said. He finished his cigarette and flicked it away, dropping his gaze to the ground. Karl stepped in front of him to unlock the front door. He tipped Chris' chin up with two fingers, a smirk curving his lips.
"I think you do." Karl opened the door and walked through, holding it open for Chris. "Come on. Let's talk upstairs."
Chris licked his lips, recognizing the sinful undertones in Karl's voice. A few words from Karl's mouth were all it took to remind him that he was owned and understood; it was the best feeling in the world. Chris followed Karl up the stairs, as he always did, fingertips tingling in anticipation. But this time, he pictured Zach's deep brown eyes and the way they'd looked when he parted ways with Chris and Karl—that ardent, burnished gaze slowly trailing after them.
*
