The New Deal

by Raine

  The New Deal

  By H.J. Raine and Kelly Wyre

  Rough denim rubbed against Maxwell Clark's lips, and he mouthed the hardening cock he could feel beneath the fabric. Clark kept his hands behind his back at his lover's instruction, grip digging into the flesh above his elbows. Fingers raked through Clark's hair and tightened in warning. The professor didn't actually say stop, however, and Clark dragged teeth along the thick line straining the front of Daniel Germain's jeans.

  Buttons popped and clattered to the floor as Daniel ripped open his dress shirt. "Damnit, Clark, when I asked you to wait for me on your knees, this isn't quite what I had in mind."

  Clark chuckled, and Daniel groaned as Clark dug deeper, the jeans growing damp. Daniel tugged again at Clark's hair, twisting just the way Clark liked. "Though I do love your sense of initiative," Daniel murmured, and he let go of Clark to rip apart his cuffs.

  "Just keeping myself occupied in full service capacity, Sir," Clark said around a smile, while Daniel impatiently shrugged out of confining work clothes. Clark had lost his shirt, shoes, and socks on the way up the stairs after the dinner that had led to a brief negotiation of the games that would serve as a damned fine dessert. He expected his pants would follow in short order, and impatience swirled beneath the knowledge of protocols to observe and procedures to follow. Daniel didn't like to wander too far from the outlined beating path.

  Still, it didn't hurt to hurry some of the details along, and Daniel wasn't exactly complaining. Clark caught the tongue of Daniel's belt between his teeth and yanked it to the side to undo it. Warm hands fell to Clark's shoulders, and Daniel's legs spread for balance. "You do have a talented mouth, love," Daniel said. "Finish and then stand for me."

  "Yes, Sir," Clark answered with a glance up at deep blue eyes that grew darker while Clark worked the belt's bar out of a worn notch. He grasped one end and slid it until the belt came apart with a quiet clink. Daniel rubbed Clark's nape, and Clark sighed, kissing tanned skin above the button of Daniel's fly. So simple, now, to fall into the web of safety that Daniel wove, and Clark allowed his world to narrow to the task. One undone pair of jeans later, and Clark rose. He kept his gaze on Daniel's lips, his arms crossed at the small of his back, and thoughts of what was to come -- and who, and when, and how -- made his cock fill further.

  Slender fingers cradled Clark's jaw and rubbed with the grain of stubble. Daniel kissed him, a slow mesh of mouths that invited as well as invaded, and their tongues tangled. "Mm, perfect, Clark," Daniel said, smile hungry. Daniel's greed and want got translated through eager caresses over Clark's chest and belly. Firm thumbs flicked against the nubs of Clark's nipples, and Clark curled his toes into the nap of the rug covering the floor beneath their bed. It became a struggle to stay still and even more difficult to keep his hands to himself. Daniel made a delightfully arrogant sound, and yanked Clark closer by the belt loops, one hand stroking Clark's erection with surprising force.

  "Nn-- oh," Clark gasped, and he leaned into Daniel. The professor caught him, and Clark pitched his hips into the friction. For approximately the millionth time in the relationship he and Daniel had built over the last year, Clark wanted to forget the Scene shit and just fuck. Top, bottom, sideways, or all of the above, so long as Clark got Daniel, he didn't care how it happened.

  "Want you, Sir," Clark whispered, daring to nibble the place on Daniel's throat that made Clark's Sir moan and writhe when enough pressure was applied.

  "Want you, too," Daniel growled and yanked at Clark's fly. He impatiently pulled Clark's pants and boxers down, and Clark weaved unsteadily. Daniel snaked one arm around Clark's waist, and pried Clark's heels from the cloth with his free hand. "Should have just cuffed your ankles with these." The tone was rough grit but the caress to the backs of Clark's legs as Daniel straightened was gentle silk.

  "And let some of the toys I gathered and dragged up here go to waste?" Clark asked, tipping his head toward the box of restraints and gear he'd fetched from the room they'd converted into a dungeon just after they moved into the townhouse. "Wouldn't be worthy of you, Sir."

  "No," Daniel said, hesitating, dark eyes hot on Clark, and Clark did not allow the smirk that wanted to turn his lips to form. He did, however, stretch to brush a kiss to Daniel's shoulder just to feel the other man make every effort not to sigh.

  "I guess it wouldn't be." Daniel shook his head. "Get up on the bed, Clark," he said, and Clark loved the rueful inflection.

  "Of course, Sir," Clark said obediently. He took his sweet time, walking with an exaggerated saunter and crawling to the center of the mattress with a deliberate arch to his back.

  A hearty sigh erupted behind Clark's ass, and Clark glanced at the wide mirror mounted on the wall above their headboard, smirking. Daniel finished stripping, and got a glittering length of chain from the box of toys. It jingled when Daniel wrapped it around one forearm. Nothing in Clark's world said, "I love you," quite like that tell-tale clank. Shuddering in anticipation, Clark turned his back to the mirror and knelt on the bed. Daniel fished out leather suspension cuffs and a handful of other hardware, tossing everything but the chain onto the bed by Clark's knees.

  A pole with a hook on the end stood by the solid headboard of their reinforced, king-sized bed frame. Daniel used it to feed the end of the chain through one of the eye-bolts in the ceiling. Daniel had hired a contractor to connect the eye-bolts to an extra beam that ran across multiple ceiling joists and could support more than five times Clark's weight. It came in handy when Clark talked Daniel into the sex swing. Daniel's extra attention to detail meant that when they played in the bedroom, they didn't have to worry about accidents and explaining any broken this-or-that to emergency room staff. In Clark's experience, that always proved awkward.

  Pulling down the high end of the chain, Daniel matched the ends and let them hang. Picking up the cuffs, Daniel got onto the bed, and Clark didn't have to ask for the reassurance he required before the restraining began. Daniel gave Clark another lingering kiss, and the small voices in Clark's mind that wondered what in the hell was going on and if it was really a good idea quieted instantly.

  "Hands, please?" Daniel asked, and Clark complied. A groan made it past his lips at the polite plea, the simple word that made it possible for him to hold out his wrists to another human being and let that person bind him.

  "Yes, Sir," Clark said, quieter now as Daniel locked the leather into place. Clark stood knee-deep in waves of submission that he wanted to dive under to seek the bliss at the bottom of that vast ocean.

  Clipping a quick-release bolt to each of the cuffs, Daniel kissed Clark's palms and said, "Hands over your head, please?" with his lips moving against Clark's skin.

  "Sure," Clark said, and he couldn't tell if he spoke out loud or not. Daniel's soft laugh gave it away, and Clark felt a blush rise to his cheeks. Ignoring it and the way desire shot down his spine and bloomed in his balls, Clark reached so Daniel could fasten the cuffs to the lengths of chain. The rig required Clark to stay kneeling upright and wouldn't let him rest on his heels without his arms taking the weight. Daniel's hum of satisfaction made Clark bite his lip to stifle words that would probably prove embarrassing.

  "So... my Clark," Daniel mused.

  "Yes, Sir?" Clark managed.

  "Do you know who called me at the office today?" Daniel asked, calmly, while attaching metal to metal.

  "Uh," Clark said before he could stop himself. He looked up at his own hands, back at Daniel's peaceful veneer, and tried to think with a brain that was pissed at a pitstop in Guessing Game City. "N-no? Sir?"

  "It was Lucian," Daniel said, and the last bolt clicked in place.

  "Oooh," Clark said on a long breath. "Shit."

 
Daniel snorted and stroked Clark's bruised side, a keepsake from the last job Clark had done for Lucian Gray, the Mayor of New Amsterdam's son. Lucian ran the benevolence fund and charity organization for the Gray family business, and the man moonlighted as a well-connected vigilante. For months Clark had helped Lucian organize a drug bust, and it had gone more or less according to plan. The right people were behind bars, and everyone had made it out alive.

  "I thought this was just another sparring injury from the dojo," Daniel said, applying minutely more pressure to the bruise.

  "I'm sorry," Clark pleaded, links jangling as he attempted to get closer, but Daniel kept the distance.

  "Do you know why he called?" Daniel asked, and he wouldn't meet Clark's eyes, which set off alarm bells in Clark's mind.

  "To reaffirm his position as a pain in my ass?" Clark tried.

  "No," Daniel said, though Clark saw the edge of the professor's mouth twitch. The man wasn't angry, just irritated, which made sense. Daniel wouldn't have suggested playing if Daniel was pissed. Suggested it knowing it was a sure way to get and keep Clark's undivided attention? Oh yeah. But even like this, Daniel still chose to speak long before Clark got entirely lost. Love and worry and relief surged through Clark, and he strained against his confines. This time, Daniel let Clark nose one cheek, let Clark kiss his professor's jaw.

  "Lucian called to thank me for allowing you to serve him and the needs of the city. I..." Daniel paused, dark eyes finally looking directly into Clark's. "I told him he was welcome. That I know how much it means to you."

  "You know you mean more," Clark said immediately.

  Daniel's gaze softened, and he took a deep breath that Clark mimicked. "That's... I think I needed to hear that," Daniel said, frowning.

  "I'm with you, Daniel," Clark said, and he wondered if this was it: if this was the point when Daniel would finally say enough was enough and ask Clark to stop working for Lucian. Clark knew that the danger inherent in serving Lucian and that the safety Daniel demanded were mutually exclusive, and he braced for the coming request and the answer Clark had rehearsed in the hundreds of times this conversation had happened in his head.

  Daniel's frown disappeared. He moved close enough for the two of them to touch knee to shoulder, and Clark feathered kisses over any part of Daniel within reach. Daniel wrapped an arm around Clark, chest rising and falling in a sturdy rhythm. Clark's heart pounded, and the tinkling of chain link betrayed the tension Clark held.

  "You are with me," Daniel said. "And that's why I can't ask you to give it up, love, not for me."

  Clark worked fast to make sense of Daniel's words, and his lover gave him the moment Clark needed. "Because you know I would," Clark said.

  "Yes."

  "Because I'd do anything..."

  Fingertips dug into the meat of Clark's back, kneading. "I know."

  Clark let the cuffs and Daniel catch him as he sagged, and he told himself it was sheer stupidity to think that Daniel would be anything less than insightful, intuitive, and understanding. What else could one expect from the love of his life?

  "However," Daniel said, and Clark waited for it. "I am going to ask -- not demand and not command but ask -- that I be allowed to know what you're going to do before you do it."

  Clark bit the tip of his tongue and stopped himself from asking if Daniel knew what that would mean, because the professor never did anything without ten years of forethought. Clark nodded. "Yes, Sir. I'll arrange for a meeting with Lucian tomorrow so we can discuss the fun and games and proprietary information."

  Daniel blew out a held breath in a gust. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome," Clark said, and when Daniel didn't move, Clark nuzzled at Daniel's neck.

  "And if... and this is something that might be pushing..." Daniel shook his head and snorted. "Right. Spit it out, Germain. Clark, if it's at all feasible, I'd like to help with what you do."

  Clark's insides contracted in terror, and protests tried to claw their way to air. Daniel wasn't military trained, the situations were dangerous, this was Clark's domain and field of expertise, not Daniel's, and the professor had already killed one madman, did he really need to add more bodies to that count?

  Clark started to say Oh hell no, and almost laughed as understanding kicked him in the ass. The bitch goddess of irony really had it in for Clark. "It's not all up to me, Daniel," he said, words making his throat thick. "I know you're no blushing housewife," Clark paused to let Daniel chuff a rough laugh, "but the situations are often complicated. Best I can say is we'll pitch the idea to the powers that be and see what happens."

  The body against Clark's heaved in a shaky exhale, and warm lips met Clark's in a tender kiss. Daniel ran soothing hands down Clark's flanks. When Daniel broke the kiss, he touched his forehead to Clark's. "That's all I could wish, love, thank you."

  Feeling the heavy leather around his wrists, the unforgiving stopping power of the chain, and the growing burn in his thighs from holding his position, Clark swallowed and struggled to think clearly for a few moments longer. "A-anything for you, Sir. It's always interesting when you arrange these little... discussions."

  "I enjoy catching your attention, Clark," Daniel said, chuckling, and he trailed a feather-light touch along Clark's throat. "May I move on with the program, my Sergeant?"

  Clark fell in love all over again with the rising heat in his professor's eyes. He spread his knees wider on the bed and crossed his ankles. "I am at your command, Sir."

  The familiar sigh of approval eased some source of tension in Clark's guts, and he enjoyed the view of Daniel climbing off the bed. The professor went to the box to rummage and returned with an armful of leather, toys, and a steel spreader bar. Daniel's eyes flicked to meet Clark's, the corners crinkling in a knowing smirk, and Daniel carefully laid the bar in front of Clark. Daniel moved behind him and touched one ankle. Lifting it, Clark allowed Daniel to wrap a cuff around it, tightening and testing the fit as was customary, before moving to the other leg. When Daniel was done, Clark couldn't uncross his ankles, and he had to rest more on his knees and rely on the suspension for balance.

  Knowing what came next, Clark's head rolled forward, and he pulled himself upright with his arms so Daniel could wrap two more cuffs around Clark's thighs above the knees. The sharp tug of undertow yanked at Clark's consciousness, and time slowed. It seemed to take an eon for Daniel to pick up the steel bar, line up the ends to the inside of Clark's knees, and snap them into place. With each click and clink, Clark's awareness of reality receded and narrowed, and the old battle began. Part of Clark yelled, "Just what do you think you're doing?" in a clarion voice of authority, while another part cried out in elation at being so restricted, confined, secured.

  "Sir?" Clark asked, the single word a breathy whisper and all he could muster.

  "Yes, Clark," Daniel answered, and Daniel stroked the insides of Clark's spread thighs. Thumbs dug into muscles, and the rattle of metal announced Clark's shudder to the room. Firm touch swirled about Clark's groin, brushing balls and the base of his cock, and he began to harden again with the tease. Daniel caressed Clark's abs and chest, warm palms rubbing over both nipples, and Clark moaned softly. Daniel hugged Clark so that skin melded to skin, and the silk of Daniel's arousal rubbed against Clark's.

  "Love you like this," Daniel whispered in Clark's ear. "How every muscle you've so carefully kept and cultivated lends you such strength. How beautiful you are, doing this for me."

  Craving crashed upon Clark like a fever, and he couldn't remember anything except how much he fucking needed this, how much he loved his Sir's voice, how good everything his Sir did always felt. Clark turned his head to kiss and bite Daniel's shoulder, a harsh sigh pouring around his teeth.

  Fingers wound in Clark's hair, as Daniel arched and ground against Clark with a growl. "God. Perfect," Daniel whispered and nipped the edge of Clark's ear before slipping away. Clark ached for the loss of contact and jumped when two thu
mps hit the covers. Daniel appeared in front of Clark, the custom cock ring he'd made for Clark in his hands. The molding for it had been a... memorable experience and a lesson in patience, and Clark jerked to feel the strain of arms and the immobility of legs.

  "Let's get this on you before you get any harder and we can't do it comfortably," Daniel said, widening the stiff rubber ring and slipping it over the end of Clark's cock. Clark bit his lip and lost the fight of holding back sounds while the professor maneuvered one ball and then two through the band. It rested tightly around his base, the fit snug enough to be just this side of dangerous for blood flow. Clark could orgasm while wearing the damned thing, but it took quite a while to go soft with it on, and Daniel dearly loved capitalizing on that particular anatomical detail.

  "Oh... fuck... Sir," Clark said between quickening breaths. Arousal spiked from his core, and he began to resemble iron instead of flesh.

  "Yes. I'll get around to that," Daniel said in the maddeningly bland voice that made Clark want to kick something cute and innocent, but the groan that came from between Daniel's lips just before they closed over the tip of Clark's cock was heartfelt.

  "Oh, God." Clark's head fell against his arm, and he watched his Sir's cheeks hollow. Suction slid down Clark's shaft, and Daniel's tongue lashed and played against the ridge. Fingers tugged at Clark's bound balls and slid along the path into the cleft between his cheeks to trace circles around his asshole. Bob, weave, suck and tease, and Clark bucked into Daniel's mouth, snarling when he couldn't do much more than that, and the first urge to beg rode Clark like a champion bull rider. He clamped his mouth shut, quiet moans sounding through his nose while Daniel worked him near the brink and then, of course, stopped.

  "Mm. Love how you taste, and those sounds." Daniel's lips found Clark's for a brief kiss that stifled Clark's cursing, and Daniel moved behind Clark.

  The professor looped a thin belt around Clark's waist, attached a strap to the front and left it dangling. Clark blinked at it, brain trying to catch up, and when Clark heard the click of a lube cap, he cursed to the heavens. For a second he fought to get away, but the chain didn't let him and fingers dug and twisted Clark's hair. Intractable strength bent Clark's head backward, and Daniel murmured something in his ear, meaning lost in translation. The angle made Clark work for his oxygen, and he called out an incoherent syllable, stuck between pleasure and shock when the well-slicked tip of a dildo touched his anus and began to push inside his body with the speed of a glacier. Wide, wider, damned thing was huge, and Clark's bellow was but a whimper from his bent throat.