Work Text:
"What do you want, sir?" Stephen said, tilting his head down and looking up at Lucien through his eyelashes to make the height difference even more obvious.
"I don't know, sweet boy." Lucien reached down and ran a finger along Stephen's jaw, tipping it up. That was Stephen's more usual position, but he kept his eyelids lowered, trying to stay in the role. "What do you offer?"
"Anything you like, sir."
"What if I'd like you call me 'my lord'?"
"Yes, my lord."
Lucien's thumb passed over Stephen's lips, then pressed its way inside far enough that Stephen could lick the pad of it. "Anything I like. I could have your mouth?"
Stephen nodded.
"Or your arse?"
The thumb withdrew, and Stephen said, "Yes. Anything, my lord. Long as you can pay."
With a faint jolt of surprise, Stephen felt Lucien drop a few coins into the pocket of the old trousers he was wearing. "Oh, I can pay," Lucien said. "The whole night?"
"If you've got a bed, my lord."
"For you? Of course I do, for a boy as lovely as you. Right upstairs."
It wasn't a molly house—nothing so common, or so dangerous, for Lucien—but it was a small inn on a little-travelled road, nearly empty this time of year, and they'd arranged their game for a private dining parlour and then a private suite of rooms. Stephen followed Lucien up the stairs at a friendly distance, just two gentlemen on a journey, and waited to see what Lucien would do when they had a locked door between them and the rest of the establishment.
Once they were inside, Lucien took Stephen's hand and led him through to the bedroom. He gave Stephen a soft and reassuring smile, entirely unlike the wicked grin he usually wore when they were about to fuck. Lucien being kind and considerate was unusual: they'd always been equals in desire, and it was strange—though not unwanted—to have Lucien, well, seduce him. Not for every time, or even most of the time, but just this once.
"Is this acceptable?" Lucien said, gesturing around the room.
Stephen bit his lip and looked around. "It's very fine, my lord," he said quietly.
"I like expensive things," Lucien said. "Nice beds, and nice meals, and nice boys to fuck. How does that sound?"
"Anything you want, my lord."
"So it is." Lucien turned, crowded Stephen back against the wall and reached for his clothing. "What do men usually do to you?" Lucien asked, pulling Stephen's shirt off.
Stephen thought of the rushed encounters he'd had before Lucien. "They like to use my mouth, my lord. Or to—ah—to push me against a wall and fuck my hole." He heard Lucien's sharp breath at the vulgarity. "Since we have a bed, though, my lord..."
Lucien pushed Stephen's trousers and drawers to his ankles, pulled off his shoes, and let Stephen step out of the tangled clothes. "We do have a bed," Lucien said, "but I'm rather fond of walls."
Stephen braced himself to stand on something—he should have known Lucien would take the opportunity—and was surprised to find himself pushed backwards and Lucien's mouth on his cock. "Oh, my lord!" Stephen gasped and clutched at Lucien's shoulders. He'd been stiff in his drawers at the promise of the evening, and he was moaning at the pleasure already, Lucien's capable tongue working him, Lucien's hands stroking sensitised skin. "Oh," Stephen groaned, feeling the muscles of his stomach tense as his body fought to thrust.
Lucien pulled off and licked the soft skin in the dip of Stephen's hip. "Eager little tart, aren't you," he said.
Stephen babbled, "Yes, my lord. Do you like that, my lord? I can—"
"Ssh. Yes. I like it very much." Lucien stood, then took him by the hand and flipped their positions. "Your turn."
As Lucien opened the front of his trousers, Stephen folded himself to his knees. He took hold of Lucien's hips and put his mouth on Lucien's cock, looking up at him as he did, knowing Lucien liked that. He could never get Lucien's cock all the way down on the first try, but he bobbed and swallowed and bobbed, taking more and more, showing off.
"Hmm, yes, you've certainly learnt how to please a man, haven't you," Lucien said. "Little tart on your knees, sucking my prick, earning your fee..."
That made Stephen blush in a way the rest of it didn't. Right, he wasn't Lucien's lover tonight; he was a paid boy, here for Lucien to use. One of Lucien's hands came around to cup the back of his head and Stephen took the message, sticking his tongue out a little to ease the way as Lucien started to thrust into his mouth. It sounded even more obscene than it felt, wet noises as Lucien's prick pushed into his open mouth, the way his own soft sounds would choke off as he was filled. Before he was ready for it to end, Lucien pulled back and squeezed himself. "Very good," Lucien said, "very good. I wonder what else you're good at?" He helped Stephen to his feet and then led him over to the bed. "On your back."
Stephen crawled up and watched Lucien strip. He didn't make a show of it—Stephen supposed that made sense; a hired boy wouldn't care. Stephen did, though, and he stretched himself out and watched the quick and efficient reveal of skin.
When he was done, Lucien looked over at the bed again. He ran a casual, possessive glance over Stephen. "Anything I want, you said?"
"Yes, my lord."
Lucien tapped his lips with one long finger. "I want to tie your hands to the headboard. How does that sound?"
It sounded bloody marvellous, and Stephen's cock twitched. "That's, that's dangerous, my lord," Stephen said. "I can't get away if you want to hurt me."
"That's true," Lucien said. "Will you take the risk for me?"
After a long pause, Stephen said, "Yes, my lord," not quite able to meet his eyes.
It wasn't iron, to his disappointment, but Stephen's own shirt that bound his wrists to the headboard. Lucien pulled down on Stephen's ankles so he was laid out, defenceless, and then proceeded to slowly lick, kiss, or nuzzle every part of Stephen's body from his shoulders to his knees except his prick.
Stephen panted, "Don't you wish to use me, my lord?"
"I am using you, sweet boy. Listen to those sounds you're making." He nipped at the soft skin low on Stephen's belly, and Stephen yipped. Lucien smirked up at him. "I want you begging for my cock. Here." Lucien ducked to the side, did something on the floor, then came back up and piled a few coins on the table next to the bed. Stephen laughed before he could stop himself. "You get to keep that if I make you scream."
Back to the role, Stephen thought. "But—the other guests—I can't be arrested, my lord."
"I have more than enough to pay them off." Lucien breathed on Stephen's cock, and Stephen squeaked. "That's better." He went back to his thorough exploration of Stephen's body, lingering near Stephen's groin but not yet on it, until Stephen broke.
"Oh, please, please, my lord, please—"
"Please what?" Lucien said.
"Please touch my cock. Or fuck me. Please." His breathy urgency was entirely unfeigned.
"Hmm," Lucien said, "no." Stephen whimpered, and then squawked when Lucien put both hands behind Stephen's knees and folded him in half to get his mouth on Stephen's arsehole instead. Stephen's toes curled and he didn't scream, but it was a near thing. He used the leverage of his bound wrists and all the strength in his stomach to push his arse towards Lucien's face, the scrape of stubble and the working tongue.
By the time Lucien let him down again, Stephen's belly felt damp with precome and his balls were aching. He'd been begging for at least half of that, he thought, and his mouth felt dry from it. Lucien, damn him, looked composed and smug, if a little damp himself. "And now I will fuck you," he said.
"Oh God."
"Spread your—damn it."
Stephen blinked as Lucien dived over the side of the bed again, and came back with a bottle of oil. Stephen didn't laugh, he didn't think you'd ever laugh at a client, though Lucien looked annoyed enough that it was difficult.
"Now I will fuck you," Lucien said, dripping oil on his cock. He spread Stephen's thighs, and Stephen wrapped his legs around Lucien's back as he leaned forward.
His cock sliding in was everything Stephen needed. "Oh, yes, my lord," he gasped. Lucien put his hands on the dip of Stephen's waist and started screwing him, hard but slow, until Stephen was whining with every thrust in, needing more.
"Now, is that what I'm paying for?" said Lucien.
Stephen blinked up at him, too aroused to understand what he meant. "My lord?" He gave a little gasp as Lucien filled him again.
"For you to lie there while I plough you?"
"Uh—my lord, if there's anything I can—"
"You were pushing back against me when I had my mouth on you."
Abruptly, Stephen understood. He wrapped his hands tighter in the confining cloth for leverage and started to rock back against Lucien as he moved. The muscles of his abdomen were screaming at him already.
Lucien smiled down at him, with that little cruel twist at the corner. "That's it, lovely boy. Show me how much you want it."
Both of them together were pushing Lucien's cock ever deeper into Stephen's body, till he could feel it in his teeth. He did want it, he wanted it so much, he wanted it like he'd never wanted anything in his life. Every time they did this he wondered how he'd ever lived without it.
"I think," Lucien said, "I think you'd do this for free, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, my lord," Stephen said. "Anything, my lord."
Lucien took hold of Stephen's prick and Stephen did yell then, neighbours be damned. From there it was a sweaty, brutal, toe-curling, glorious race to the finish, Stephen with nothing to muffle his noises, Lucien's long body working over him, slamming into him even once Stephen had already come, well into oversensitivity. He didn't stop moving until Lucien cursed and came deep inside him.
Lucien carefully withdrew and then rolled off him to the side in an awkward sprawl. Stephen was breathing so hard he couldn't speak at first, feeling aftershocks ring through him like Lucien's power used to do before they'd got rid of the ring.
"Was that worth my fee, my lord?" Stephen finally asked.
One elegant hand came over to brush Stephen's sweaty hair off his forehead. "Very well done, sweet boy," Lucien said, sounding as wrung out as Stephen felt, "but I still have the whole night to use."
Stephen laughed helplessly. "How do you have anything left? I think my balls are empty."
"Is that how paid boys talk to their patrons?" Lucien asked, and Stephen could hear the smile in his voice. "Besides, I don't need you to have anything left. You're here for my pleasure, after all."
"Yes, my lord," said Stephen. He tried to make it mocking, but there was too much between them in that phrase, and he couldn't do it. He rolled his head to the side to look at Lucien, lying on his side, smiling at Stephen with an entirely private, satisfied look. Stephen smiled back.
Then Stephen's eye was caught by the pile of coins on the bedside table, and he realised something quite suddenly. "Tell me," Stephen said, "was this all an excuse to give me some money?" He looked above his head and confirmed that his shirt was in a sorry state, too, from all the pulling he'd done. "And to render some of my clothes unusable?"
The briefest pause, and then Lucien said, "Of course not—"
"Oh, you bastard," Stephen said delightedly. "I'm going to pay you back for this. When I can move again."
"How lucky for me I have the whole night to wear you out even further," Lucien said, and Stephen was groaning at the thought even as Lucien rolled over to kiss him senseless. Again.
