Dinner for One (14 page)

He tries to flip them, but Bastien grips his shoulders hard and shakes his head. “I’ve got a plan,” he says, eyes wide and pupils swallowing his irises. He shoves up till he’s sitting on James, legs spread wide around his waist. His ass is right over James’s cock, and he rolls his hips, grinding along the length of him. James reaches for him, moving with him, but Bastien stops midmovement and scrambles from his lap. “Plan. I’ve got one.”

James groans, and it’s a mix of frustration and delight if that’s even possible. “Is the plan going to see you back in this bed?”

“’Course.” He grabs the bag and holds it out till James takes it. “I brought this.” His entire face is a lovely shade of rouge. He points at the bathroom. “I’m going to go… while you… yeah.” He hurries out of the room, and James is left blinking after him. He opens the bag.

His dick goes from hard to throbbing in a heartbeat. He pours the contents out and stares at them spread across the white of the comforter. There’s a black cock ring, nipple clamps, the blue vibrator from that first night they still haven’t used, condoms, and a paddle. His heart is beating abnormally fast. Sure they’ve messed around, Bastien falls to pieces when he bosses him about in bed, and they have gotten rough at times. But this… this is a whole other level. He organizes everything on the nightstand and strips, sitting back against the soft headboard and waiting. He wonders what exactly Bastien is doing.

He’s contemplating checking on him when several minutes pass and he still hasn’t come back, but as he’s going to, the bathroom door opens and Bastien comes out. He’s completely naked, his chest, neck, and face an appealing shade of red. His cock is stiff, standing up and drooling on his stomach. He comes right to the bed, crawling onto James’s lap, and he feels it then, the slick of lube on his ass he grinds down on James’s dick. He trails his fingers through Bastien’s crease, prods at his already opened and stretched hole. “You got ready for me,” he breathes, sliding two fingers in like it’s nothing, capturing Bastien’s low whine with his mouth. “You’re so perfect. What do you want?”

Bastien rests his forehead against James’s, exhales harshly over his face. His eyes are already starting to glaze. “I want you to take me apart.” He nuzzles against James’s face, rubs over him like a giant cat. “This isn’t… I don’t want this always. But sometimes? Is it okay if it’s like this sometimes?”

He frames his face with his hands, sipping at his lips with gentle kisses. Between each one he says, “Yes, of course.” He strokes his thumbs over Bastien’s temples, his cheekbones, his fingers through his curling hair. “You want a safeword?”

Bastien hums, eyes shuttering closed. “If I say ‘stop’ then it means stop.”

“All right.” He goes back to kissing, lips moving against Bastien’s till he’s a limp weight against him, till he’s shaking and shuddering above him, and then he reaches for the cock ring. He snaps it around Bastien’s prick, swallowing Bastien’s gasp, stroking his fingers teasingly up and down his shaft once it’s fastened. His cock lies heavy between them, slicking both of their stomachs and James’s own thick member. The nipple clamps are next. He takes Bastien’s nipples in his mouth one by one, sucking till they’re hard nubs, and when he withdraws he settles the clamps on them, watches with awe as Bastien arches, his chest heaving as he rides out the initial burst of pain. “Okay?”

Bastien nods, mouth hanging open, nothing but pants and moans leaving it. He rocks forward, thumping his head to James’s shoulder. His fingers are like claws on James’s biceps, digging in tight.

He grabs the vibrator, urging Bastien to lift his hips as he holds it to his rim. “I want you to do this,” he tells him. “Fuck yourself on it for me.”

DESPITE STRETCHING
himself in the bathroom, there’s still resistance as he sinks down, still that wonderful feeling of being opened slowly. He stops, thighs shaking and hips hovering, as he feels James’s fingertips at his rim. He eases up, and then down. To keep up the movement, he has to brace his hands on James’s shoulders, his head hanging limp as he huffs with each movement. It’s not enough. He needs
more
.

He doesn’t know if he says that aloud, or if James is crazy in tune with him, but he turns the toy on, and Bastien’s legs give out. He shudders on James’s lap, hips twitching and rolling as the toy buzzes inside him, puts constant aching pressure and pleasure on his prostate. James pulls at his hand, murmuring words to him that Bastien can’t focus on, as he moves him till he’s facedown on the bed, ass in the air.

He knows what’s coming, his asscheeks clench in anticipation, which leads to a loud moan tearing from him as he tightens around the vibrator. His entire body jolts forward at the first smack of the paddle. It’s a solid hit to his right cheek, a dull ache blooming across the skin. James runs his fingers over the no doubt red patch, and when he pulls them away, he smacks the other cheek with the paddle. He’s slow at first, letting Bastien sink into it, till his body doesn’t know which way is up, and his breathing is nothing but ragged gasps for air, a puddle of precome pooling on the sheets beneath him.

His prick
hurts
with the need to come. Every smack of the paddle makes his ass clench, squeezing the vibrator that is doing lovely, torturous things to his insides. He feels like he’s going to explode, and tears are leaking from his eyes, and he wants nothing more than for James to get inside him and use him.

His ass is on fire by the time he hears James drop the paddle, and he thinks this is it, James is going to finally fuck him. He’s mewling, hips canting backward, his legs spread almost painfully wide. The vibrator comes out in a slow glide, but what replaces it is not James’s cock. He buries his face in Bastien’s ass, and he makes him
scream
using nothing more than his tongue and his lips.

He’s begging, incoherent rambling pleas, his fingernails forming crescents in his palms as he clenches his fists to try and ground himself. James’s hands are all over him, running over his wonderfully sore ass, his shaking ribs, his arching back. He feels like he’s being consumed.

James pulls away, and a second later slides into him in one smooth thrust, bottoming out and immediately withdrawing, shoving back in. His hips slap against Bastien’s tender ass, probably making his skin glow more furiously. One large hand holds his hips up while the other one buries in his hair and yanks his head to the side as James looms over him.

The moment James reaches under him, fingers fumbling to undo the cock ring, Bastien lights off. His come stripes the sheets, his entire body curling in on itself as he cries out, his balls completely, shatteringly empty. The orgasm hurts and feels wonderful, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to get hard for days to come.

James pulls out and turns him over then, come smearing along Bastien’s back as he lies in the wet spot. He sinks quickly back in, a hand moving to tug on the chains around Bastien’s nipples, forgotten till now, a pain that had blended into everything else. He yanks with every thrust, and Bastien’s chest follows the movement, his hole spasming around James, his cock twitching like it still has something to give.

He whimpers when James shuffles backward, hands reaching out for him. James removes the condom and crawls up over him, and Bastien sighs with relief, knowing what he’s going to do. It’s a favorite of James’s. He strokes himself, breath getting harsher, quiet little grunts as he comes all over Bastien’s limp cock and shuddering stomach. When he’s done, nothing left to dribble out, he runs his fingers through the mess, rubbing it into Bastien’s skin. He brings a come-slick finger to Bastien’s mouth, lets him suck on it for half a second, and then he’s kissing him, lips moving wetly and sloppily against his.

“You’re definitely going to kill me,” he says, collapsing to Bastien’s side, slinging his arm over his messy stomach.

Bastien curls into him, eyes already half-closed, body lax with orgasm and the need for sleep. “You love it,” he says, the words pressed against the skin of James’s neck. He’s asleep before he can hear James’s response.

Chapter Nine

THINGS ARE
going really well. Bastien has half listened to his sister and started making sure some dates occur outside of their houses. He doesn’t protest when they end at them, though. They’d gone to an art gallery the night before, spent several hours wandering around and arguing over the pieces. After, they’d gone back to Bastien’s, and James had run his hand through Bastien’s hair, lightly tugging the strands, twisting them around his long fingers. “I love your coloring,” he’d said, leaning in to kiss Bastien’s cheek, run his nose over his cheekbone. “I find your freckles insanely attractive.” He’d proceeded to spend that night trying to play connect the dots with the hundreds of freckles that littered Bastien’s entire body. The curse, or in this case blessing, of being a redhead.

It’s that memory Bastien’s replaying in his head instead of looking over the vegetable order. A pen hits him in the middle of his forehead, and he jerks back, rubbing at the sting. That’s probably going to leave a red mark.

“Earth to Bastien,” says Jean with a wide smirk. “Not that this isn’t cute, but we don’t have time for your daydreaming. We’ve got a business to run.” He holds his hand out, palm up. “Can I get my pen back?”

His pen is somewhere under Bastien’s chair, and he’s sorely tempted to tell Jean no. “I wasn’t daydreaming,” he says and contorts himself to fetch the pen despite his misgivings. Maybe he’ll throw it back at Jean.

“You were thinking about lover boy. If that’s not daydreaming, what is it?” His tone is teasing and suggestive. Bastien grimaces. Jean has taken to calling James ‘lover boy,’ and he can’t say he’s overly fond of it.

Bastien gets his fingers around the pen and comes up quickly, chucking it at Jean before the man has a chance to realize what’s going on. It bounces off his chest and onto the desk. He frowns at it. “It’s reminiscing,” he primly informs him, grabbing up the pen and having another go. Jean dodges that throw, and it bounces off the door behind him. Bastien gives it up as a lost cause.

Jean’s lips quirk and then flatten. Bastien’s pretty sure he’s forcing back a laugh. He ignores him and looks down at the order he’s supposed to be working on. Jean takes a seat but doesn’t say anything. He just sits there and stares at Bastien. When several minutes pass and Bastien can’t figure out what weirdness has inspired Jean now, he starts to fill in how many cucumbers he needs on the sheet in front of him. Jean chooses then to talk, because he likes to be inconvenient like that, and says, “So things are going well?”

“Yes,” says Bastien, studiously not looking up at him. He moves on to the tomatoes. They need to get these orders out by the end of the day.

“Give me more than that,” says Jean. “I’ve had to stare at your sappy face for the last couple of weeks, the least you can do is give me the details.”

“I thought you were tired of my reminiscing? And if I recall you told me to spare you the details before. Why the sudden interest?” He tries to remember how many tomatoes he’s got in the fridge, but all he can picture is James’s pink mouth and how red the insides of Bastien’s thighs get when James rubs his stubbled cheeks over the sensitive skin.

“You’re doing it again,” says Jean, sounding disgusted. “You’re all spaced out.”

Bastien shakes his head. “Sorry,” he mutters, feels his cheeks heat up in that familiar and always annoying way. One day he’s going to learn how to control the blushing.

“This is why we need to talk about it. Share some of that joy, and maybe you can focus on what you’re supposed to be doing.”

Bastien sighs, keeps his eyes on the paper. It’s weird, but he wants to simultaneously keep everything to himself and tell anyone who will listen everything. He’s not used to feeling this way, he wants to share it, but he’s scared that if he does, he’ll lose it. It’s an unfounded belief, he knows, but he can’t help it. “What do you want to know?”

“How’s the sex?”

He grabs the nearest thing to his left hand, a roll of tape, and throws it at Jean’s head. Jean manages to duck it, laughing all the while. “I’m not answering that,” he says, huffing. “That’s private.”

Jean takes a minute to gather himself, straightening his white chef shirt and pushing the dark hair that had fallen into his face back, and then asks, “When am I going to get to meet him?”

All the potentially hideously embarrassing things Jean could tell James about him flash through his mind. “Never,” he says, without thinking. Once he realizes he’s said that aloud he amends it to, “Soon.”

The questions get better after that, and save for a few (which are clearly Jean attempting to fuck with Bastien) Bastien answers them all. He doesn’t tell him anything about his sex life (glorious though it may be).

Jean leaves the office with promises from Bastien he’ll get to meet James sooner rather than later, and assurances that Bastien will stop daydreaming and get his work done. He needs to be in the kitchen in half an hour, and he’s not even halfway through the order. Bastien wants to point out he’d be a little further into it if Jean wasn’t so nosy, but he doesn’t feel like wasting more time.

It takes a little more focus than it should, but he gets it done, and he hustles out into the kitchen a little before he’s supposed to be there. It’s easy not to daydream once he’s cooking with all his attention on the masterpieces he’s creating and making sure he doesn’t maim himself, others, or the food.

He Skypes James later that night. He worked till close, and James is in Connecticut visiting one of his eighty million brothers. His red hair is damp from the shower, and he’s pulled on a shirt he found at the bottom of his bed.

James’s face appears on the screen, and he flashes his teeth in a broad smile, his dimples denting deep. “Are you wearing my shirt?”

Bastien looks down. It’s an old worn Star Wars shirt. Definitely not his. “You left it here,” he says.

“You look good in it.” In the background Bastien can hear someone wolf whistle, and James turns his head to glare at them. “How was work?” he asks once he’s stared the whistler into submission.