Chapter Five - Old Mistakes
It felt surreal to let himself manhandled like that. By the looks of it, Johnny knew what he was doing. The man wrapped with expert precision and pulled the strips of cloth over Ruslan's arms pressed together at the back.
"So you into bondage?" he asked, skipping a beat and a word, dizzy with the promise of what was to come.
He was famished. Johnny the fighter was promising him he wouldn't be, at least for a while. As if he could believe in promises of the kind.
Johnny stopped for a second to kiss him. Ruslan was starting to love his mouth something extreme. Far from being some classic beauty, Johnny was an example of raw masculinity that Ruslan craved like water in the desert.
"Do you have a thing for bad boys?" the memory from a few years back came unbound.
"They're the only ones who don't care," Ruslan had shrugged the question at the time, preferring a cookie cutter, Psychology Today inspired, answer.
The old man had shaken his head.
"Just promise me you'll be safe. If not for your sake, for mine."
He had had a mind to protest. But the old man was his lifeline, always had been since he had pulled Yanis and Ruslan from that terrible place.
"Of course, papa," he had promised and meant it.
At that time, yes, he had made the promise and believed in it. Yet, right now, he was surrendering to the whims of a man who looked able to snap him in two like a twig, should he have fancied that.
Johnny checked the ties, pulling Ruslan's elbows just a bit apart. "On your back," he ordered.
It was a bit uncomfortable, with his arms bent from the elbows and tied together like that. He was flexible. He would live, Ruslan thought, his mind already going places.
"Wait," Johnny frowned for a second and pulled one of the fluffy pillows to stuff it under Ruslan's back. "Better?"
It was strange to see a smile on that rough face. Ruslan felt he was being treated differently. This wasn't Johnny's usual MO. He probably always fucked hard. Ruslan craved that, too.
But he seemed set on doing this his way, and Ruslan wouldn't protest. A calloused hand caressed Ruslan's cheek and a rough thumb brushed over his mouth. He wanted to laugh. "Please don't treat me like I'm made of glass," he said.
His voice was different, deeper, waiting, on the point of an exhale that was kept from coming. Did he forget how to breathe? How much of this was what he wanted?
Johnny met his faint protest with a small chuckle. "Don't be afraid, sweet lips," he said gently.
"Afraid? What could I be afraid of?" Ruslan faked bravado.
"Indeed," Johnny's dark eyes flashed with deeper understanding.
This was a dangerous game. Was it only dangerous for him? He shook his head. How many men had he bedded in his life? Too many to keep track, right? He wouldn't break from being treated too gently.
The calloused hand resumed the caress. It was dropping lower, and Ruslan knew, although he could not see, that his chest was rising and falling with it. The tension broke when Johnny teased his belly button, making him snicker and jerk away. He was ticklish.
"Ah, you do have a sweet spot." Johnny laughed and leaned in to give Ruslan another breath of fresh air, straight from his lips. "C'mon, legs up."
Ruslan grunted more in surprise than anything else as Johnny bent his knee and began tying his legs, one, then the other, in the same fashion. It was tight, but not too tight.
"You should see yourself right now," Johnny's lips twitched. "Have you ever thought of modeling for skin magazines and the like? You'd make a fortune."
"Well, I like being an accountant," Ruslan said wryly.
It was more than keeping books what he was doing for the old man, but that didn't make as a good conversation topic at the moment. Especially since a practiced hand was now wrapping around his cock, waking it back to life.
Between getting tied up and having his belly button tickled, he had somewhat lost track of what they were there for. He shivered as Johnny knelt in front of him, threw him a brief look, and then took his hard cock in his mouth.
"I thought this type of position was all about me acting subservient for the rest of the night," Ruslan said.
Johnny stopped for a second. "It is."
It was true. He was all tied up, and couldn't protest. But he was handled with care as if he was a china doll.
Ruslan needed to take control of the situation. That wasn't his MO, either. Yet, right now, the delicious feeling of surrender was making him melt on the inside. A single point in his entire body was anything but.
Johnny was taking him deep, giving his cock swipe after swipe with his tongue, squeezing it at the back of his throat. It was like any moment he would come. Ruslan groaned, moving his hips slightly.
Strong fingers dug deep into his thighs to keep him in place. So he wasn't the one in charge, after all. "I need to come," he complained.
"Why didn't you say so?" Johnny laughed, pulling his expert throat and mouth away from Ruslan's cock. "But you'll do it while taking me raw."
Ruslan trembled with both apprehension and excitement. For so much time, he had been a vessel for men to pour their desire, frustration, and even anger. What was this all about? He could not think anymore; and it didn't matter, like come hell or high water, because the way Johnny was now gently reaching inside him with his slick finger was making this train of thought stop cold, and he couldn't, he couldn't ...
"Hard or gentle?" Johnny asked, and Ruslan searched his midnight eyes.
"I thought I was the toy." Ruslan pretended to pout, but his lips twitched, giving him away.
"Hmm, so gentle it is," Johnny teased and grinned.
"Ah, you got me." Ruslan giggled, and licked his lips, to hide his frustration.
"I got you," Johnny said, and it no longer sounded like a joke.
Johnny reached for his neck, caressing it lightly. Ruslan swallowed hard. They were walking on a thin rope, and so far, the acrobats they pretended to be seemed steady on their feet. The night was young. No one could tell if, by morning, one or both players would fall or not.
Ruslan counted on his safety net. So he closed his eyes, and shivered, as Johnny pushed inside, stretching him, making him open wide, and now he could focus on the physical sensation which was, after all, everything he craved.
Their breathing fell in sync. He could count the beating of his heart by the pace Johnny's ragged breaths followed. Johnny was taking him in short, shallow at first, deeper later, thrusts, making Ruslan's entire body shake.
Ruslan adjusted his position just slightly. There had to be a way to show the other he wanted it harder without using words. And Johnny understood.
