Title: Conversation
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Words have power.

Simon falls back on the bed laughing, desperately trying to fend off Mal's hands. "Stop! I yield! I yield!"

"Gotta say, it's right handy you being so ticklish," Mal teases.

"Wish I could say the same." Simon mock-glares at him. "Are you planning on letting me up?"

"Actually, no," Mal says, shifting his grip to Simon's wrists. "I wasn't." The soft, sharp inhalation from Simon makes him smile, and he tightens his grasp, watching Simon struggle and fail to control his reaction. "Don't bother trying to fight it, Simon," Mal tells him softly. "There's no point."

Simon swallows, tense under him; it takes a minute before he relaxes, going limp against the bed. Mal smiles to himself--now they can get started.

He lets go, getting off the bed. "Strip," he says, watching Simon flush briefly before sitting up and undressing. "When you're done, lie down on your back. Arms over your head."

Simon's already half-hard; when Mal ties his wrists he gasps, his cock swelling instantly. "Good," Mal murmurs, running his hand down Simon's body, down his thigh and back up over his cock, a rough caress of his palm that makes Simon arch.

But he doesn't touch Simon after that--he pulls his chair over, sitting down in it casually, grinning at the confusion he sees on Simon's face. "What did I tell you?" he asks, leaning back comfortably. "Think back a couple weeks."

"Um--" Simon frowns, thinking, and then his eyes widen and he stares at Mal incredulously. "Mal, no, you can't be--"

"Quiet," Mal tells him. "And why can't I be serious?" He smiles. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't do this and *maybe* I won't."

"Um--" Simon closes his eyes, thinking.

"Changed my mind. I don't want you to talk." Mal smiles again, watching Simon flush. "I'll do the talking," he says, and Simon swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"So I've been doing some thinking about this," Mal says casually. "About what I could do to you, tied up on my bed like this. Or not do, depending."

Simon's flushing halfway down his chest and he's looking at Mal like he can't believe this is actually happening. He's tensing against the bonds, probably without realizing it, and that gives Mal an idea. "You like to struggle?" he asks, watching Simon consciously try to relax when he realizes what Mal means. "Oh, don't stop on my account. I think it's fun to watch, the way you get all tensed up. Gotta watch those, though," he says, nodding at the fabric around Simon's wrists. "Fabric's soft, but it'll still chafe if you fight it too much, and I don't think you want to explain that to anyone. Unless you got a secret kink I don't know about."

"No," Simon says hastily, trying to relax. "No, I don't."

"Didn't think so." Mal smiles, watching Simon shiver when he sees it. "So what am I gonna do with you?" he muses. "All tied up and nowhere to go...I'd love to keep you like this, you know. Not exactly practical, but maybe one of these days we'll get some down time and I can drag you off for a day or two. Just you and me, no one else, no interruptions. No clothes, either," he says thoughtfully. "They just get in the way."

On the bed, Simon's trying not to make a sound, biting his lip in his effort.

"Of course, then we'd have to be inside," Mal continues. "Don't want you burning--that'd just be painful. Don't get me wrong, I think you look great when you're all flushed and sweaty, but I don't want you sunburned. Wouldn't be able to touch you if you were, and that I just can't have. Got to be able to touch you, put my hands all over you. Feel that smooth skin of yours under my fingers, watch you squirm cause you don't know where I'm going to touch you next...yeah, I like that.

"Thought about getting some oil, too, but then I wouldn't be able to taste you and I have to be able to do that, too. Lick the sweat off your skin, feel you shiver when I breathe on you, listen to you moan when I bite your nipples--and you love it, don't you? You love that hint of pain, the flash that makes it feel so good. You love the way it feels when I pinch you, when I smack your ass. You'd probably fall to your knees if I ever really bit you, but that'd show and I don't want that." Mal stops for a minute, considering. "Not now, at any rate."

Simon's half-gasping for air, his eyes closed now. "Please, Mal..." he manages, voice hoarse.

"I ain't gonna touch you," Mal tells him. "Although at this point you probably don't want me to touch you--you just want me to fuck you. Just spread you open and slide into you, so it burns, and you feel split open and taken and you know that you're mine. You don't want me to take you nice and easy and slow, you don't want me to stretch you open, you just want my cock inside you as deep as it'll go, and you don't care if it means you can't sit down for a week. In fact, I think you like it better that way, when you're walking around the next day sore under your clothes. Because you *know* then that you're mine, that I can take you any way I want and you'll just give it up for me."

He hears Simon whimper, twisting against the bonds, and smiles. "If I told you to come, right now, you'd do it," he says. "If I told you to beg me to let you, you'd do that too. I *know* you, Simon. I know exactly what you want, what you need. And you're desperate right now, aren't you? You're hard as a rock and about one step away from coming all over yourself, but you won't do it because I haven't told you it's okay." Mal reaches down, adjusting himself inside his pants. Simon's not the only one close to coming.

"*Please*..." Simon's voice cracks with need.

"What do you want, Simon?" Mal's voice is soft, almost gentle. He's got Simon right where he wants him and damn, but it's sweet.

"I want--I want to come, Mal, please--" Simon swallows. "Please, Mal, your mouth--I want your mouth on me, please..."

Mal's a little surprised Simon remembered that. *Should I make you beg first? Make you ask me nicely to suck you? Would you like that?* Then again, maybe he didn't remember and he's just begging. Either way...

"All right," Mal says, getting up. "You can have it."

He kneels on the bed, bending down to suck the head of Simon's cock into his mouth. Simon cries out when he does, hips bucking involuntarily, and Mal's hands clamp down on him, pressing him back into the mattress. "Don't move," he says, raising his head. "Unless you want me to stop."

Simon shakes his head, muscles taut with the effort it takes him to not move. Mal lowers his head again, teasing Simon's cock with his tongue, sucking it with barely any pressure. "Come for me, Simon," he says, releasing Simon's cock long enough to speak. "Now."

And he does, crying out hoarsely as Mal drinks him in.

Simon, after orgasm, is one of the most sensual things Mal's ever seen. All the tension's gone and what's left is a flushed, boneless man, one who's still trying to remember how to breathe. Mal reaches up and unties his wrists from the bed, leaving them bound together. "Suck me," he says. "Now."

He may not quite remember how to breathe but Simon wastes no time scrambling to his knees and obeying Mal's orders. "Yeah..." Mal breathes, knowing he's not going to last long. He's too close, and Simon's just too good at this. "Yeah--like--oh, *fuck*--" Mal groans when he comes, head falling back.

It takes him a minute to come back to himself but once he does, he reaches for Simon's wrists, untying them and rubbing gently where the bonds chafed. "Better wear long sleeves tomorrow," he says, kissing the inside of Simon's wrist.

"Yeah." Simon doesn't sound upset--more unfocused, like he's not quite back in his body yet.

"C'mere." Mal pulls off the rest of his clothes hastily and stretches out on the bed, tugging Simon down next to him. Simon lies down willingly, tucking himself against Mal. "I think," he says lazily, "that next time you're gonna tell me what you want me to do to you."

Simon groans, smacking Mal in the shoulder half-heartedly. "You're psychotic," he grumbles.

"And you love it." Mal kisses the top of Simon's head fondly.

"I'm insane."

Mal laughs and hugs him. "Relax, Simon. Just relax."

Against him, Simon sighs, pressing a kiss to Mal's shoulder. "Yeah."
 
   
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