Jensen got a job!
"I'm the new bouncer of this joint." An interesting way to
say resident receptionist,
for sure, but Barnaby was excited for him! Not only did it mean income for Jensen that wasn't from his parents, something to add to his resume-
It gave Barnaby more time to have the dorm to himself. All the more time to spend texting Gil without fear of being caught laughing, blushing, or taking selfies when their conversations turned heated. Evidently, Gil had been serious about not letting Barnaby touch himself - he needed the pictures as proof he hadn't. And he didn't.
But there were a lot of cold showers that week.
Judging by the direction of their most recent discussion - where Barnaby admitted he'd be willing to try the leash again - he took the initiative to ready his camera. Another text rolled across the top of the screen as he positioned himself on his bed, legs crossed. It wasn't a request for a picture.
'I have a present for you.'
Barnaby watched his own eyes widen.
'Huh??? You didn't have to get me anything...'
'Too late now. Come over.'
He was out of the dorm as fast as could be, putting a beanie over his head when he passed Jensen in the lobby.
One knock on Gil's door was all it took to get it swinging open. He barely caught a glimpse of the man as he was pulled in, zero chance for
hello
when passionate lips were suddenly claiming his own.
Sudden, but not unwelcome. Barnaby smiled into the kiss, stood on his toes, and wrapped his arms around Gil's neck to keep steady. A much sturdier grasp held his waist, guaranteeing he wouldn't be going anywhere.
"I missed you," he sighed. Gil broke away to kiss down his neck.
"Quit working," he whispered, giving a playful nip, "We can spend every night together."
Barnaby giggled, nuzzling into his hair. "I
can't
. Besides- You'll get tired of me if you see me every night."
"Impossible." Gil pulled back enough for Barnaby to finally see his face, and once again, he found himself wondering,
What does someone like you see in me?
But then, the man asked, "Who could get tired of a precious young buck like you?"
Buck?
Even without his onesie?
Barnaby scoffed, leaning away. "Let's see- my parents, my professors, my 'best friend'β" He cut off, gasping, as a hand gripped his ass.
Gil smirked and muttered against his ear, "
Why
do I get the feeling they don't know what they're missing?"
Barnaby huffed and nestled closer, silencing any sounds that might have bubbled up as Gil continued to knead him. It was pathetic - how easily he gave in and stuck himself out for the other. His pants grew tighter in the front, but Gil had no trouble sliding a hand down the back of his boxers, teasing a finger between his cheeks.
"Who else has touched you?"
"No one, sir," Barnaby answered honestly. "I've been saving myself for you."
"Yeah?" The man slipped off Barnaby's beanie and nipped at his ear. "Tell me why."
"
Because-"
He exhaled shakily. "Because I'm- I want to be good."
Gil chuckled deep in his throat. Barnaby did his best to stay quiet as the other retracted his hand, leaving his ass alone in favor of taking his jacket off for him. It became more of a challenge when he realized he wasn't stopping there. Chilled fingertips grazed his waist, and next, his sweater was lifted over his head. He didn't have any time to question it before Gil was on his knees, tugging down Barnaby's pants.
"From now on," he said, looking up at him. Barnaby balanced himself holding onto his shoulders. "The minute you walk in here, this is how I want you. Got it?"
Barnaby nodded, albeit hesitantly, and Gil snapped the elastic on his underwear. He whimpered,
"Yes, sir."
Gil grinned and kissed his hip. "Perfect." He gave his butt a gentle smack. "You wanna be a good boy? Go sit on the bed so I can give you your present."
Barnaby didn't need to be told twice. Down to his socks and boxers, he hurried to have a seat, criss-cross-apple-sauce.
Gil grabbed a little white box from his desk. Bringing it to him, Barnaby could see it was sealed with a red ribbon. He was almost inclined to reject it right away. It reminded him of something out of jeweler commercial - the type of package one would present a necklace or bracelet or watch to their significant other in. Something much too fancy for him, the mere Beneficial Sort of Friend.
It was harder to decline when it was placed in his hand. Impossible with Gil's command, "Open it."
He flashed a weary smile, the words 'I can't accept this' already on the tip of his tongue. He opened the box.
"I figured it should be personal...
If
it was something you still wanted."
Well, it wasn't diamonds. But it did appear to be leather. A fine strip of it. Brown. And with a tiny silver charm, monogrammed
B
. Not a collar you would find at PetSmart, most likely.
"The back of the tag has my dorm on it. So, if you ever get 'lost'..."
Barnaby picked it up and sure enough, behind the B - "Hanover, 239." '
You didn't have to'
seemed like the polite thing to say at that point, but he had said it already, so he knew Gil's answer. It was too late.
This
was his collar. "Thank you," he said in earnest. Gil beamed. "I hope it didn't cost too much."
The man waved his hand dismissively. "Pocket change." Then, he was gesturing to it, and to Barnaby's neck. "May I?"
Barnaby offered it to him, and Gil helped fasten the collar on with a golden buckle. It wasn't at all tight. The silver tag rested above his sternum, and Barnaby puffed his chest so it could show itself off. "How does it look?"
Sitting beside him, Gil dug out his phone and placed it into smaller hands. "See for yourself."
The front camera was quick to remind Barnaby how very topless he was. He shrunk back from his own reflection in an attempt to diminish the protruding appearance of his chest, tilted the phone so he would only have to see himself from the shoulders up. God forbid he caught a glimpse of the belly he knew was hanging over his boxers.
But the collar was nice, and it did look a bit more like a necklace. Sleek and discreet, yet - the more he looked, the less exposed he felt by it.
B. Hanover 239.
Not only had Gil dressed him in a collar. He dressed him with ownership.
"It's- lovely?" He meant it. Even if he wasn't. His doubt was whether or not 'lovely' could be applied to such an accessory.
Barnaby turned to give the phone back. It slipped out of his hand, and he squeaked as Gil pulled him into his lap.
"It is lovely," he muttered, examining the tag. Barnaby watched him study it. His owner.
His breath caught in his throat when their eyes happened to lock.
A crooked smile adorned Gil's face, and he tilted his head curiously. "Wonder how much lovelier it'd be if we put it to use."
"Use..?"