Lace and Leather

by kiri_no_yami

Summary:

Stanley was content to admire Xeno—brilliant and untouchable—from a distance, but one day he sees Xeno in a very compromising situation!

Chapter 1

Stanley twirled his pencil around the index finger of his right hand, eyes locked on the test question. What formula was he supposed to use again? The longer he stared, the more the words seemed to blend together, looking like tadpoles swimming across the paper. His teeth grinded, aching for a sugar rush to help him focus.

Stonebridge Academy was supposed to be for the elite, and he believed it. After transferring in for his second year, thanks to yet another military relocation, he’d been prepared to adapt to a new environment as usual. But this wasn’t just a new school.

All the students were either exceptionally gifted, filthy rich, or both.

At his old school, he’d been the one who finished tests early, barely needing to study. Now, leaning back in his seat in Advanced Calc, he felt like some kind of impostor. The marks on his first math test here had been a blow to his pride.

He chewed at his lip, a nervous tic. He tasted blood from the cut that had opened back up again.

Yeah, blending in wasn’t exactly his thing. First month in, he’d already decked some prick who was roughing up a kid to try to steal his homework. He'd earned a split lip and bruised cheek, but he would do it again any day. The other guy looked far worse after.

He’d braced for suspension—or worse—but the school brushed it off. Apparently, bad PR was a bigger concern than bad behavior.

His parents had not been nearly as lenient.

Focus, idiot. He stared down at the paper again. The answer did not come to him.

He knew who wouldn’t have that problem.

White hair gleamed from the seat in front of him.

Xeno Houston Wingfield.

He looked like a model out of the Stonebridge brochure—white shirt crisp, purple tie straight, black blazer pristine. He sat upright, fingers folded neatly across his desk, not a single hair out of place. There was something glacial about him, like a sculpture carved from ice—flawless, cold, and untouchable. Stanley was sure he’d finished the hour-long test in ten minutes. It was child’s play for the top student in their grade.

His hair was combed back in a way that felt regal.

People whispered that he was cold, always looking down on the rest of them.

Stanley hadn’t felt that at all, that day.

The memory rose unbidden: him on the ground after the fight, lip bleeding, body sore. He had seen Xeno pass by, expecting a sneer or indifference.

Instead, Xeno had stopped. Reached into his pocket. Held out a white handkerchief. Silent.

Stanley had taken it with a mumbled, “thanks”. Their fingers brushed.

And that was it.

What had been a passing attraction had detonated into a full-blown crush.

He shouldn't have let his thoughts drift while staring at the back of Xeno’s head. Stanley’s grip slipped, and the pencil dropped, rolling across the floor.

His eyes widened as Xeno turned, reaching down to pick it up for him.

A breeze blew in through the open window. It shifted his collar just a fraction.

What Stanley saw in that moment made him forget to breathe.

He had seen a flash of a red mark on the nape of Xeno’s neck.

By the time he took the pencil back, his hand was shaking.

Their fingers brushed, and Stanley couldn’t even meet his eyes.

He wanted to ask. Wanted to know. But he also wanted to do it while respecting Xeno’s privacy.

So, he went to shooting club after class. Just like every other Wednesday.

The shooting range was one of the Academy’s many indulgences—another toy for the children of oil barons and diplomats. Stanley liked having it so close at hand instead of needing to travel to a range like he had used to.

He liked it here. Everything came down to aim, distance, breath. Control.

Even distracted, he shot the highest score.

He refused offers to hang out after club and headed straight to the chemistry lab.

The sky was turning dark as Stanley climbed up to the second floor.

He had seen Xeno leave late from the chemistry lab before. Maybe Stanley could catch him alone. Ask him about the mark.

He tried to find the right words in his head. Something that wouldn’t make Xeno feel cornered or look at him weird if it was all a misunderstanding.

Is someone hurting him?

His heart beat faster with the thought, tight with worry and the kind of protective anger that made his hands curl into fists.

He reached the lab door. Didn’t knock.

He slid the door open, just enough to check if Xeno was inside.

Then he froze.

His brain refused to process what he was seeing.

Xeno—prim, proper Xeno—was perched on the edge of the lab table. His pants were bunched at his ankles. Black thigh-high stockings hugged his legs, held up by leather garter straps that bit into soft skin. His blazer had slipped halfway off one shoulder. And between his thighs—

Lace.

Black lace panties, pulled aside, his cock glistening in his hand.

Stanley couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink.

Xeno’s head was thrown back, jaw slack, mouth parted in a moan. One hand clutched the edge of the table for balance, while the other touched himself, slowly at first, then growing more desperate.

There were more marks like the one on his neck that traced a path along the V of his hips.

Stanley thought, wildly, This can’t be real.

He had to be dreaming.

Xeno came with a soft cry, shuddering as he spilled over his hand.

He opened his eyes.

Their eyes met.

Amber to black.

Time stopped.

Stanley’s heart thundered in his chest.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps echoing from the hallway.

Stanley flinched. Shit. Someone was coming.

He slid the lab door shut with a shaky hand and spun around.

He saw the janitor.

“Evening. Just need to get behind you, son. Got a work order—lab lock’s busted.”

“Wait!” Stanley shielded the door like a human barricade. “There’s someone inside, uh, changing. There was a… a spill.”

“Not of chemicals, I hope.” The janitor looked alarmed.

“No… no.” Stanley said quickly, standing firm in a way that gave the janitor no chance to go around him. “He’ll be out in just a minute.”

Silence.

Then, smoothly, the door slid open behind him.

Xeno stepped out. Composed. Hair immaculate. Uniform crisp. Like nothing had happened.

Stanley stared.

Had something happened?

He could still feel the blood pounding in his ears. Still see those stockings burned into his brain.

Lace.

Xeno passed by, brushing close. He leaned in, voice like silk against Stanley’s ear.

“It’s a secret.”

Then he was gone.

Notes:

Yes, I did write 19 chapters of porn with a smidge of plot lol gotta get in my smut reps.

Fic is complete, planning to update 2x/week. Will mention that this fic suffers a bit from uneven chapter length syndrome.

There will be numerous kinks explored in this work. Kind of the whole point of it. Tags will be added as I go.

Starts off heavily inspired by the manga Takane no Hana wa Midaresaki and then veers off into somewhere else.

Thank you to cheesiurger for the lovely comic they drew <3
Check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69628191

Thank you to novicecomics for the lovely fan art!
Check it out here: https://x.com/Nova_InThe_Dark/status/1964569556581830851

Chapter 2

Stanley didn’t sleep well.

His mind wouldn’t let him.

What he had seen was burned into the back of his eyes.

There was no way he actually saw that, right?

It completely didn’t match the Xeno he saw in class.

Maybe it had been a dream. A hallucination. Even if it had been real, he should try to forget it. That’s what Xeno would want.

The more he tried to forget it, the clearer it became.

He didn’t know if he could handle being face to face with Xeno after that.

When morning came, Stanley could barely look in Xeno’s direction. He shuffled to his desk, staring at the wooden pattern on it like it contained the secrets of the universe.

A pale hand entered his field of vision, leaving a folded note on his desk.

Meet me at the lab. Same time as yesterday.

-X

Stanley didn’t remember a single thing from his classes that day. He kept watching the clock. Anxious.

When he finally opened the lab door, Xeno was right there. Waiting for him.

He gestured for Stanley to step inside.

The door clicked shut behind them. Locked.

“You saw,” Xeno said. Not a question.

Stanley’s pulse spiked. Xeno was too close, his gaze too direct.

“Saw what?” He chose to play dumb. “I didn’t see anything.”

“Liar,” Xeno didn’t look angry, more disappointed.

“Sorry,” Stanley apologized, looking at the ground, the tips of his ears glowing red. “I didn’t mean to… I came because I wanted to ask you something. I should’ve knocked.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Stanley blinked. “Didn’t you ask me to keep it a secret?”

Xeno titled his head slightly. “Yes, but typically, teenagers find it near impossible to resist spreading something so scandalous.”

Xeno’s voice was low, and even though he hadn’t moved at all, Stanley somehow felt like he was getting closer. “Don’t you want to destroy my reputation, put an insufferable know-it-all like me in my place? Or maybe… you’re saving it for blackmail? For help with your grades? Money?”

He paused, like he was assessing Stanley’s reaction.

“Something indecent?” Xeno didn’t sound scared or concerned at all, more like he was anticipating it with bated breath.

If anything, Stanley was the one concerned. “I would never do anything like that,” he said quickly, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Xeno’s dark eyes gleamed.

“What if I asked you to?”

Stanley opened his mouth, then shut it. He didn’t have an answer.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Xeno asked.

Stanley obeyed immediately, as though his body couldn’t fathom doing anything else. He stared up at Xeno from the chair.

“Let’s have an honest discussion,” Xeno continued, smooth, “You can ask me whatever it was you wanted to earlier. In return, close your eyes. Keep them shut until I tell you to open them. Can you do that?”

“I can,” Stanley replied, his voice sounding steadier than he felt.

He closed his eyes. His hands were balled nervously into fists in his lap. He leaned forward slightly, unsure what Xeno had in mind.

He wanted to know.

“Is someone hurting you?”

Moreso than anything else, that was what Stanley cared about the most. “I saw marks. From rope, maybe? On your neck and… on your thighs.”

A beat. No response.

“Are you alright? There isn’t someone blackmailing you, is there?” The thought made Stanley sick.

Xeno chuckled.

That wasn’t the reaction Stanley had expected from him at all.

“That’s very sweet of you to worry,” he said, “but no. There’s no need for concern.”

Stanley could hear the rustling of clothes. His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest.

“Those marks,” Xeno said, as casually as though they were discussing the weather, “were self-inflicted.”

Stanley’s mind reeled.

“I’m what is known as a masochist,” Xeno said, his voice calm, not offering any further explanation.

“A… masochist?”

Stanley had a vague impression of the term, but pairing it with Xeno scrambled something in his brain.

“Stan,” Xeno murmured. Stanley startled at his shortened name, spoken so close to his ear he could feel Xeno’s breath.

“What do you think I’m wearing right now?”

Stanley’s thoughts short-circuited.

He had heavy suspicions. His mind flashed to the curve of Xeno’s calves under tight black stockings, leather clinging firm to his thighs. Lace.

But all he said was, “The… school uniform?”

“Wrong.” Xeno said, voice like dark honey.

“Do you want to have a peek?”

Stanley wanted to refute, but he remembered how disappointed Xeno had been when he had caught him lying earlier. He nodded, an admission of guilt.

“If you open your eyes,” Xeno teased, “you’ll see something even better than yesterday.”

A beat.

“You’re not going to look?”

“I said I wouldn’t open my eyes until you told me to.”

Stanley held himself as still as a statue.

“Oh, that’s good. Very good.”

He heard the sound of clapping, soft and slow. Xeno had moved further away again. Stanley could hear the rustle of fabric against skin, achingly slow.

“You’re perfect. Elegant, just like I thought.”

The praise did something to Stanley.

“It’s okay,” Xeno said at last, “you have my permission to open your eyes.”

Stanley did so.

Xeno was fully dressed in the school uniform, looking sharp and composed, except there was a slight flush to his face.

Another memory that would haunt Stanley’s dreams.

“I have a proposal for you,” Xeno said, his gaze lidded, voice low. It sounded like a deal with the devil.

“You seem to be physically attracted to me,” he added, tipping his chin—

Stanley followed the gesture. Then froze.

His breath caught in his throat as shame crashed through him. The clear tent in his pants left no room for denial.

“I think,” Xeno went on, as if nothing were out of the ordinary, “you’d do an excellent job of granting my wishes.”

A pause. Then, with the sweetest voice:

“Won’t you be my partner?”

Notes:

How will Stanley respond?

Also, I could totally picture the opposite - i.e., Xeno being a sadist (maybe with Stan as the masochist XD), but that's a story for another time!

Chapter 3

Stanley couldn’t concentrate, his thoughts circling what had happened the two days before like a dog chasing its tail.

"Think it over, but don't keep me waiting too long," Xeno had said.

His white-haired classmate came to find him after the final bell, leading the way off school grounds as Stanley followed him silently. They kept walking until the trees swallowed them, deep into a park where not a soul was in sight.

They were both in school uniform, though Stanley’s tie was missing as usual. He didn’t like the feeling of being choked.

His eyes wandered to the deep purple tie at Xeno’s throat. Always tight.

They sat on a bench together, Stanley nervously leaving some space between them.

Unable to take the silence anymore, he finally asked, “What did you mean by partners?”

Could it be that Xeno felt the same way he did?

“I’ve told you already, haven’t I?” Xeno answered, “I’m a masochist, someone who derives joy from physical and emotional pain.”

Stanley’s shoulders sagged. So that’s what Xeno meant by “partner”...

“But I’m not a… sadist,” Stanley said.

Xeno gave Stanley a look, like he could see through him, knew more about him than even he realized. “I know you don’t want to hurt me, but I think you’re capable of pleasing me in the way I like.”

Stanley gulped. “I don’t even have experience with uh… the basics, let alone something like this.” He flushed at admitting that. Maybe Xeno had the wrong impression of him. A lot of people made assumptions after all, that Stanley must have a lot of experience, given his athleticism and good looks. He didn’t want to disappoint Xeno.

The thought of Xeno leaving him to find somebody else to be his “partner” made Stanley feel sick.

“That's perfectly fine. I’m a good teacher.”

Xeno leaned in, fingers sliding beneath his purple tie, slowly loosening it. He was so close that Stanley could smell the lavender scent of his shampoo.

The soft silk tie pooled on Xeno’s lap.

He popped the top two buttons of his white shirt, revealing the bruised, tender band across his neck. The reddened band was stark against his pale skin, like an intimate collar.

Stanley thought his own breathing sounded terribly loud as he stared with wide eyes at the hollow of Xeno’s throat. His hands curled into fists, struck with the urge to reach out and touch.

“I’ll explain to you what I want, so pay attention.”

Small pale lips parted, and the precise voice usually reserved for scientific explanations shared secret desire instead.

“I want to feel excruciating pain, but I don’t want to die. I want to experience mortifying shame, but not to have my life ruined. I want to be seen as the true me, but not by everyone. I want to be given exactly what I want, and to be given exactly what I don’t want as well.”

Stanley wondered if he was going crazy. Anyone else listening to that stream of contradictions would have probably thrown up their hands in confusion.

Yet, he felt like he understood exactly what Xeno was saying.

Exactly what Xeno wanted.

Stanley didn’t reach for him. Somehow, he just knew—that wasn’t what Xeno needed from him right now.

Xeno handed him a small gift bag, its tissue paper soft and dark. “For you.”

Stanley took it from Xeno, their hands close but not quite touching. The tissue paper rustled as he dug around for what was inside.

He felt a strange heat in his chest as his fingers brushed lace and leather.

He already suspected what he was touching, but he lifted a corner of it out of the bag to confirm anyway.

Stanley’s face felt like it was on fire.

“Is this…?” His voice faltered.

Xeno smiled teasingly, his wide eyes feigning innocence, but his words said otherwise. “I’m not wearing them right now.”

Stanley’s eyes dropped to Xeno’s feet. He saw a flash of ankle.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

“Fuck,” Stanley couldn’t stop the word from slipping out of his mouth.

For a moment, he wondered if Xeno was going to scold him for his language, but he simply looked amused.

“What do you think of me, Stan?” Xeno asked, tilting his head.

Their eyes were locked, and it felt like time slowed to a crawl.

Stanley knew how he truly felt, but that wasn’t what Xeno wanted to hear. His instincts told him that Xeno was testing him.

Xeno wanted someone who saw him for exactly who he was and wouldn’t reject him. Someone who could fulfil his secret desires.

He didn’t want to hurt Xeno, and somehow, he knew this wouldn’t.

Stanley straightened his back, drawing himself to his full height. He looked down into Xeno’s eyes and the harshness of his voice surprised himself.

“You’re filthy. A desperate masochist. Absolutely shameless.” The words slipped from Stanley’s lips before he could hold them back, heavy with heat. “You get off on this, don’t you?”

Xeno’s lashes fluttered, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. He bit down hard on his lip, like desire was clawing up his throat and this was the only way to keep it in.

Stanley’s eyes flashed with promised danger, “You deserve to be punished.”

Xeno looked ecstatic to hear his words. His cheeks flushed, as if Stanley had touched him—deep, and exactly where he wanted.

“See? I knew you could do it. Thank you for the correct answer.”

Xeno called his private driver to come pick him up.

As the expensive black car arrived and he was about to walk up to step into it, he whispered in Stanley’s ear, “Take good care of me, partner. And don’t worry about experience—I’m a virgin too.”

It was a wonder the authorities didn’t find Stanley’s dead body in the park the next day with how violently it felt like his heart exploded.

Notes:

*gasp* a flash of ankle - how scandalous! XD

Chapter 4

Xeno loved science, diving headfirst into journals and research papers, chasing answers with the devotion of a man starved for understanding. He once believed that science, and the goal of joining NASA, could fulfil him entirely and elegantly.

But as he grew older, an ache began to stir beneath the surface. An entirely different yearning. It crept under his skin like an invisible army of ants. A maddening itch that he had to satisfy to refocus on his elegant equations.

He was meticulous in his observations, and he applied that to himself. During a routine health checkup, he noted how his pulse quickened as the needle pierced him, how the brief shock of pain sent a jolt through his body. It was a data point.

Obsessively, Xeno collected more.

Ropes, heat, pain—he approached them like new variables in an irresistible hypothesis. New stimuli that his body reckoned it could not live without.

Even school lost its dull sheen as he reveled in testing his limits in plain sight. The danger of almost being caught became its own intoxicating variable.

He found the answer to the question that had swirled in his mind for far too long and never looked back.

There were two truths Xeno Houston Wingfield could never deny:

He was a scientist and a masochist.

And both parts of him always sought more.

 

Xeno wished he could claim it was all according to plan.

He had been watching Stanley from the moment the blond had transferred in. Quiet and curious.

Stanley wasn’t an academic standout, and his family was solidly middle-class. Military. It meant he must have some other rare talent, to justify his place at Stonebridge.

Curiosity turned into fixation when Xeno unearthed a video: Stanley, just fourteen, winning the International Under-15 Shooting Cup. The way he handled the gun made Xeno’s breath hitch. Those amber eyes, locked on the target, seemed to burn through the screen.

The teen was generally athletic. Xeno had overheard members of half a dozen sports clubs vying to add him to their roster.

He’d even followed Stanley, once, after class. He ended up ducked behind a wall as Stanley faced down a school bully. Despite being shorter, Stanley had emerged victorious. The vicious grin on his face stained by the blood dripping from his busted lip made Xeno’s breath catch in his throat.

Without thinking, he had walked out to offer the handkerchief. As their fingers brushed fleetingly, Xeno thought to himself, those fingers would be so elegant wrapped around my neck.

He never meant for anyone to know. For fifteen years, he’d guarded his dark thoughts with clinical precision. Terrified of judgment, terrified of disappointing his family.

The broken lock on the chemistry lab had been bad luck. Nothing more.

He had initially been mortified, genuinely scared that Stanley would share what he had seen. Terror clawed at his chest. But beneath it, twisted around it, was arousal so sharp it made his knees weak. The shame, the exposure, the risk.

He hated it.

He loved it.

But his heart soon settled. He knew Stanley Snyder better than that.

He was kind. He had saved a kid he barely knew from getting bullied, even though there was no upside in it for him.

Xeno had seen the way Stanley looked at him. And when he’d asked about the rope marks first, instead of why Xeno had been touching himself in the lab… Xeno knew.

He had found his partner.

The one he could share his secret with.

Together, they could explore everything Xeno had dreamed of and more.

Xeno smiled, his fingers brushing the implements in the hidden drawer in his desk.

Stanley wasn’t ready yet.

But he would be.

And when he was… they’d have so much fun.

Xeno’s eyes shone with dark excitement.

 

Xeno stood in front of his bedroom mirror, bare chest glowing in the soft, slatted light that filtered through the blinds. His lower half felt warm and snug in his favorite panties, garter belt, and stockings set.

He ran the rope, oiled and dried to perfection, coarse enough to bite, between his fingers. Its texture was as familiar to him as his own pulse.

He began his ritual with a hishi karada, a diamond-patterned body harness, modified for mobility. The first anchor was a double column tie around his upper torso, rope circling just beneath his pecs.

He pulled the rope taut with steady, measured force. For a fleeting moment, he felt the faint drag of the fibers across his nipples, just enough to make him shiver. Then, they slotted nicely into place, fitting over the rose-colored markings from previous days, like a key sliding into a well-used lock.

Over the shoulder. Across the chest. Under the opposite arm. Each loop cinched in perfect alignment. He used no less care in this than when he was crafting his rocket’s engines.

If his genius mind had decided that it had an obsession, a craving for this, he was determined to get it perfect. Elegant.

His breath was steady as he worked. He tied off each junction with small, practiced half-hitches, each one angled slightly so that the shape of the diamonds curved to follow the lines of his body. He adjusted a few knots just a millimeter tighter, purely for aesthetic satisfaction. No slack. No imperfection.

From the junction at his sternum, he drew the rope upward, splitting it again at his collarbone. He brought each side across the base of his neck—taut but not choking. The rope kissed the hollow of his throat, crossing over with elegant symmetry. The sight of it made him smile in satisfaction.

His spine arched as he passed the remaining slack behind him, his back becoming a mirrored echo of the front, like wings pinned tight to skin.

Final loops cinched low around his upper thighs, just above the garter line, skimming soft, porcelain skin.

Xeno felt the pressure across his chest. Steady. Grounding.

He shifted his weight, watching the diamonds expand with his breath, then tighten again.

He walked a few soft steps. The rope did not shift, but he could feel the weight of it, the perfect tension.

The rope framed his body like a gift waiting to be unwrapped by the right hands.

Xeno’s dark pupils were dilated. The faintest pink flushed his cheeks, spreading downward to where he could feel the pressure from the rope, deepening the delightful marks on his skin.

This was the moment he usually unraveled it all, regretfully stripping the rope from his skin before donning the costume of a perfect student.

None of them would ever suspect what lay beneath.

This time, he didn’t untie a single knot.

What had happened over the last few days had left him too charged, too hungry, to undo the pressure.

He pulled on his dress pants, then buttoned up and tucked in his pristine white dress shirt. With casual grace, he slipped into the Academy’s distinctive dark blazer.

He thought of Stanley.

Of calloused hands and amber eyes. Of the look he gave when he had said, “You deserve to be punished.”

Anticipation coiled low in Xeno’s belly, sharp and sweet.

Soon.

Notes:

Xeno POV chapter :)

It was quite a challenge describing something I've never done before haha if anyone sees any factual inaccuracies or impossible descriptions, please let me know

Thank you for your patience. Next chapter is their first session together ^^

Chapter 5

Xeno was so close to him, Stanley could smell the scent of lavender that he loved. They were both sitting at a table in the school library. Xeno was giving a long-winded explanation of how to solve a Chemistry problem.

The air between them crackled like two unstable elements held just a breath apart. One interaction away from an unstoppable reaction.

It was impossible for Stanley not to think about it, now that he knew what lay just under the other’s clothes.

“Are you listening?” Xeno asked.

“Yes, of course!” Stanley said, “I just need to balance the equation… like this.” He scribbled a solution down on the worksheet between them.

“Exactly, very good,” Xeno praised. “In my opinion, equations and theories are one thing, but nothing beats hands-on experimentation.” The way he looked up at Stanley, his fingers lightly adjusting his collar, hinted that he might be thinking about a different sort of hands-on experiment.

“You’ve been a big help,” Stanley said. He put down his pencil.

“Follow me.”

Stanley took the lead, because that was what Xeno wanted. He could read Xeno’s desires as clearly as he read the wind before a shot.

He brought Xeno to a place he had scouted for exactly this: tucked behind the library’s reference stacks. Students rarely visited the corner.

It was quiet there, though they could still hear the occasional loud cough coming from another part of the library.

“Why are we here?” Xeno's voice betrayed a note of excitement under his usual composure.

“Xeno.”

Stanley didn’t ask. He ordered.

“Unbutton your shirt.”

He could see a small tremor in Xeno’s hands, which moved up to his purple tie.

A tug loosened it.

Stanley reached out, palm up.

Xeno placed the smooth silk there, without a word.

Stanley wound the silk slowly around his hand.

At the end, he gave it a sharp tug.

Xeno's Adam's apple bobbed, eyes locked to his every motion.

“Go on,” Stanley said, “I didn’t say stop.”

Xeno glanced toward the open aisle behind them, hesitation flickering. In the end, his excitement overpowered his worry.

His fingers brushed over the glossy buttons, smooth as river stones, and slipped them free from their restraints one by one.

The soft clinks of their release sounded far too loud.

When the top two buttons came loose, Stanley monetarily forgot to breathe.

He had expected to see the ghost of rope marks. Instead, he saw their cause.

The cord was a beautiful black, stark against Xeno’s pale skin.

Xeno flushed red, the color rising to the tips of his ears, contrasting against the white of his hair.

More rope came into view as the shirt fully parted: tight, symmetrical, precise.  

“Beautiful.” The word left Stanley’s throat before his brain had a chance to process.

Xeno had been tied like this the whole day.

"You're insane, you know that?" he whispered. And you make me go crazy too, when I'm with you.

Xeno’s lips parted. His eyes gleamed, pupils wide. “Do you want to…?”

A sound came from a nearby shelf.

Instantly, Xeno turned to face the inside wall. He hunched his shoulders, fumbling to button his shirt.

Stanley drew himself to his full height, ready to block whoever was near.

It felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest.

No one came in the end.

It was a false alarm.

They left the library with their pulses still high.

As they stepped out into the hallway, they burst into nervous laughter.

“That was okay, right?” Stanley asked. “If you ever don’t want to—”

Xeno gave him a radiant smile with his hands behind his back. His cheeks still hadn't quite recovered to their usual color.

“It was great. I loved it. No one has ever seen me like that before. Thanks to you, I think I’ll have very sweet dreams tonight.”

 

Xeno really did show Stanley some cool hands-on experiments in the chemistry lab. They made him grasp the subject in a way that reading a textbook never could.

It concerned him to hear Xeno say, while pointing to four different beakers, “Oh, and if you ever want a lethal poison, just mix those.”

“Shouldn’t they be locked away or something?”

Xeno looked at him like that was a silly suggestion. “I could teach you how to make something just as lethal out of ingredients from a hardware store.”

Stanley gulped. “I see... Thanks for the offer, but I think I’m good.”

He looked at Xeno, who was wearing a white lab coat over his shirt and tie. His hands were wrapped purple nitrile gloves. The white-haired teen removed his safety goggles and placed them on the lab table, a small sheen of sweat glistening on his brows.

Stanley still couldn’t believe he got to be this close to the object of his affection.

When Xeno smiled at him, he felt like the luckiest guy alive.

Still, a part of him was uncertain about the boundaries of this relationship.

They were partners…

But they weren’t dating, were they?

Stanley was there to fulfill Xeno’s wishes, but could he ask for anything himself? Would Xeno hate him for that?

“Stan,” Xeno called, voice in a seductive pitch that immediately shook Stanley out of his thoughts. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. You’ve given me what I want in terms of degradation and shame, but there’s still one key thing missing.”

Stanley felt his body freeze in place.

He knew that Xeno would eventually ask him for this, ever since the other had mentioned the term “masochist”.

He had given Xeno emotional pain, but not…

“Physical pain,” Xeno said. “I want you to hit me. Please.”

He pointed at his cheek with a purple-gloved finger.

Stanley had to physically force himself not to recoil. He didn’t want to upset Xeno.

He wanted to touch Xeno. Badly.

But not like this.

If he didn’t give Xeno what he wanted though, if he failed him as a partner, then there would be nothing between them.

Stanley didn’t want that at all.

His lips parted. “Okay, but we do this my way. We should have a safe word. I was looking online, and I think it’s important.”

Xeno looked partly amused and partly impressed that Stanley had done his research.

“Hydrogen,” he said, without skipping a beat.

“Hydrogen?”

“It’s the lightest element in the periodic table. Hydrogen means go lighter. Hydrogen repeated more than once in a row means stop.”

Stanley nodded.

He closed his eyes. Inhaled deeply.

When he opened them again, he was focused on only one goal.

Satisfying Xeno.

“Turn around,” he commanded.

Xeno obeyed, turning to face the lab table.

“Take off your pants.”

There was no hesitation. Along with his belt and pants, Xeno also helpfully dropped the lab coat that would have blocked Stanley’s view. The white fabric slid down to pool on the ground.

Xeno was wearing a garter belt and stockings, identical to the set he had gifted to Stanley.

Rope hugged tight around his upper thighs, indenting soft skin and accentuating his curves.

He was the picture of propriety above, with his shirt and tie still on, and sin below.

Temptation surrounded by delicate chemistry equipment.

“Hands on the table. Stick your ass out for me.”

Xeno obeyed again.

That simple act—submission without question—sent a dangerous heat through Stanley’s body. His cock throbbed against his zipper, aching, but he forced himself to focus.

He was here to please Xeno.

Xeno, whose ass was inches from his reach, wrapped in tempting black lace.

The lace framed Xeno’s round cheek like a veil.

"Stay still."

Stanley reached forward and tugged it aside to reveal bare skin.

The sudden friction led to a soft whimper from Xeno that went straight to Stanley’s dick.

He placed his left hand firmly at Xeno’s hip. Stanley shifted close, his leg planted firmly next to Xeno’s.

He raised his right hand high.

Paused.

“Xeno. I'm going to hit you.”

A warning.

Xeno turned. There was no fear in his eyes, only hunger. "Please."

Stanley brought his palm down.

The slap was loud, echoing off steel and tile.

Xeno moaned, hips twitching.

Another slap.

Louder. Redder.

His name slipped from Xeno’s lips, drawn out like a prayer.

And again.

Stanley didn’t stop, his hand stinging with the force of his slaps.

Xeno’s ass cheeks were hot to the touch. Marked by him. Claimed.

He caught a glimpse of Xeno’s expression. It was unbelievably erotic, his tongue lolling as he savored every hit Stanley gifted him.

With one more slap, Xeno’s body sagged forward onto the lab table with a soft cry.

He came, enraptured by pain.

Stanley sank into a nearby chair, gulping in lungfuls of air.

His underwear clung to him, wet and sticky.

He looked at Xeno, straightening up and calmly wiping himself off with a handkerchief.

The marks Stanley had left still marred his skin.

I did that.

Suddenly, Stanley realized his hands were shaking.

And I liked it.

“Thank you,” Xeno said, zipping up his pants. “Is there anything I can help you with in return?”

“Can I hug you?” The words escaped before he could think better of them.

Xeno nodded. Stanley pulled him close and buried his face in the crook of his neck, taking in his calming scent.

Xeno’s arms hung limply at his side.

Overwhelmed by what had just transpired, a single tear slid silently down Stanley’s cheek.

Even though there was no way Xeno could have seen it, he called out. “Stan?”

Stanley didn't answer.

“You didn’t hurt me.” He sounded quiet but sure. “You did so well. You gave me what I wanted.”

Stanley didn’t say a word, just hugged Xeno tighter.

Notes:

Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

I don't quite know how to describe this dynamic, but Stanley's the dom and he's also the one who needs some serious aftercare lol

Chapter 6

Xeno turned halfway, inspecting his reflection in the bedroom mirror.

No risk of interruption. The estate staff knew better, and the video-triggered alarm system he’d designed was flawless.

He’d almost installed one at the Academy too, but he couldn’t resist wanting to keep the thrill alive. The risk of being caught mid-act with Stanley was too good to eliminate.

Just thinking of his partner made heat gather low in his belly.

Stanley had exceeded his expectations. He deserved a reward.

Xeno usually preferred black. Tonight, he chose the opposite.

White lace kissed his skin. Any illusion of innocence was lost with the rope marks still etched deep, like a memory his body refused to forget.

The translucent bra hugged his chest, the small satin ribbon in the center shimmering faintly under the bedroom light.

Below his stomach, all elegant lines and subtle ridges, a white lace thong hugged the V of his hips. The embroidered pattern was as delicate as the sight was sinful. His cock strained faintly against the fabric, not fully hard, but eager.

The rest of him—long legs, pale skin, marks from the kiss of rope—was completely bare.

Xeno snapped a selfie standing in front of the mirror. Capturing both the front and back, a sight to behold. His smirk was wicked, eyes full of promise.

He sprawled across his bed and hit send.

He wished he could see Stanley’s expression when he received the photo.

What if Stanley's phone was unlocked, left out, discovered?

What if his parents accidentally saw the filthy things Xeno had been sending their son?

The rush of shame hit him like a drug. It made his blood sing.

What if Stanley blackmailed him? What if that photo became leverage, used to bend him over a desk, force him to beg?

Xeno trembled at the unbearably delicious thought.

The reply came fast.

You make me want to ruin you.

Elegant. Perfect. Stanley always knew exactly what he needed.

He tapped out a reply.

How about a photo in return?

Stanley's photo hit his screen within seconds. The teen must have been mid-workout. He was shirtless, sweat-slicked towel hanging low around his neck. His abs were carved, his chest rising. It wasn’t clear if his flush was from exertion or arousal or both.

Xeno’s mouth went dry.

He imagined those arms, strong and possessive, pinning him down.

His hand slipped lower.

 

“Okay, enough explaining. Just press the button already!”

Xeno had just finished explaining the remote-controlled fireworks that he had set up with intricate detail, most of which flew over Stanley’s head.

Now that it was summer vacation, they couldn’t see each other every day at school. So of course, Xeno had secured Stanley’s number. When he had mentioned off-handedly about the fireworks project he was working on, Stanley had said he would love to come watch.

A blanket spread beneath them on a grassy hill, hidden in a corner of the park. Xeno wore a crisp short-sleeved dress shirt, while Stanley was in a black T.

No one else was around.

The show hadn’t been advertised. It was only for the two of them.

Xeno pressed the button.

An elegant burst of color lit up the sky. Xeno’s chest swelled with pride at the sight.

Both of them laid down, looking up at the bright show of multi-colored lights and chemical reactions. Science peppering the skies.

“Pretty damn awesome,” Stanley complimented.

Stanley always knew what Xeno wanted. Xeno could guess too, what Stanley wanted.

He’d noticed it earlier as they walked through the park—the way Stanley’s hand kept hovering near his, inching close and then pulling back, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed.

It had been happening all night, subtle but unmistakable.

“You can hold my hand if you want.”

Stanley’s hand, warm and strong, wrapped around his, without a word.

The thought of what that hand had done to him, could do to him, made Xeno’s heart skip a beat.

Stanley Snyder was dangerous.

Xeno liked that.

The fireworks finally ended in a burst of light. Xeno blinked, sitting up, his eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness.

“I brought you something,” Stanley said, looking over. His amber eyes gleamed, sharp even in the dark.

“A present? How thoughtful.”

The paper bag Stanley handed to him crinkled as Xeno reached inside.

“I thought of you while I passed by the pet store the other day…” Stanley’s voice had shifted lower.

Xeno’s hands were steady as he reached inside. Too steady. He was unraveling beneath the surface, nerves and want coiled so tight they threatened to snap.

His fingertips found something supple but firm.

His breath caught as he pulled out a leather collar. The metal on it gleamed in the moonlight.

Stanley had brought this to gift him here, out in this public park. The implication left Xeno feeling dizzy.

The night air was warm, but his skin prickled like he'd stepped into cold water.

“I love it,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to put it on me.”

Stanley leaned in. The scent of his sweat flooded Xeno’s senses. His fingers brushed against Xeno’s as he took the leather collar from him.

Stanley didn’t hesitate. He slipped the collar into place around Xeno’s neck, slow and deliberate. The leather was cool, commanding, snug. His fingers brushed Xeno’s throat, light, but possessive.

Then Stanley tilted Xeno’s chin up with two fingers, angling his face for better access to his throat.

Xeno’s breath stuttered. His pulse throbbed wildly against the leather as Stanley buckled it shut in the front.

Stanley reached back into the bag.

The leash came next.

The soft metallic click as it snapped onto the D-ring felt louder than any firework.

Stanley tugged, testing the resistance.

Xeno felt it instantly, the delightful tension. The feeling of being owned.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“I-I don’t think I can stand,” Xeno confessed, voice unsteady.

“Then don’t,” Stanley said, low and certain.

A shaky, half-moan left Xeno’s lips as he realized what he meant. He tipped forward, catching himself on his hands.

He barely registered the park anymore. The world had narrowed to the collar at his throat and the leash in Stanley’s hand.

Xeno felt euphoric. A sweet flood of affection, arousal, and surrender. His lips parted, but no words came, only a shaky exhale, full of worship.

Stanley rose, leash in hand, completely in control.

Helpless and aching, Xeno followed on all fours.

Notes:

Enjoy ^^

Plenty more kinks to be explored.

Chapter 7

Xeno’s family was obscenely wealthy. That much was clear even before Stanley’s first visit to Xeno’s “house”, if that monstrous mansion could be called that.

When Xeno took him shopping, it was to stores with names Stanley couldn’t pronounce. Xeno bought whatever he liked, never once looking at a price tag.

Stanley protested when Xeno started buying him things, but it was to no avail.

It was impossible for him to keep saying no when Xeno insisted with a slight pout, “You would look so sharp and elegant in this, Stan. It makes me happy to dress you.”

Stanley could tell he wasn’t lying. Plus, the clothes he received didn’t just look elegant, they also fit perfectly and were extremely comfortable.

That’s how he ended up with a set of clothes that cost quite a bit more than the rest of his wardrobe.

He hid them from his parents, concerned about what they would think if they found out, but he wore them when he was hanging out with Xeno.

Then, Xeno took him shoe shopping.

They were in a luxury boutique with white marble floors and velvet seats. Stanley was dressed so sharply, he didn't even look out of place there.

The assistant brought out several pairs of shoes for Stanley. Xeno waved her off.

He nodded in satisfaction, watching Stanley model a pair of brown loafers Xeno had picked out.

For once, Xeno was wearing shorts under his short-sleeved dress shirt. Tight khakis clung to his thighs, ending above the knee. Just long enough to hide the rope marks.

He was seated on a velvet bench, legs crossed.

Instead of his usual stockings, he wore low-cut violet socks. They showed the gentle slope of his ankles. Stanley thought they looked... adorable.

Half as a joke, but not entirely, Stanley grabbed a nearby pair of black patent heels that looked like they would fit Xeno perfectly.

He dropped to one knee, offering one to Xeno like a proposal.

“For you, my princess.”

The blush that bloomed across Xeno’s cheeks was immediate. High, red, beautiful. Xeno didn’t admonish him. He also didn’t look away.

That was all the confirmation Stanley needed.

He could practically feel the heat radiating off Xeno—humiliation tinged with arousal.

Stanley set the heels aside, then reached for Xeno’s ankle, cradling it in one palm as he knelt. With the other hand, he undid the laces of Xeno’s Oxford slowly, with reverence he usually reserved for his guns. He slid the shoe off, letting the anticipation stretch until it was almost unbearable.

Then came the sock, a brilliant violet, tight around the ankle. Stanley hooked a finger into the band and pulled, easing it down. More and more pale skin, soft and unblemished was revealed, until Xeno’s foot was bare in his hand.

Xeno had slender toes, nails neat and trimmed. Stanley dragged his right thumb lightly across the ball of his foot, then down the arch, worshipping this part of Xeno that he had never seen before. He put some pressure into his thumb, just enough to tease.

He looked up. Xeno was watching him, lips parted, pupils blown wide.

He guided the first foot to rest lightly on his shoulder, then raised the second into his hands. He repeated the ritual—slower this time, savoring it.

He wanted to memorize the feel of him, each tendon, each vein, each twitch of response.

By the time both socks were off, Xeno was squirming slightly. He shifted like he couldn’t decide whether to pull away or ask for more.

“Beautiful,” Stanley whispered.

He leaned closer, guiding Xeno’s foot up… and he kissed it. A soft, delicate kiss to the top.

Xeno’s toes curled.

Stanley gave Xeno’s tensed calf a parting kiss, then he reached for the heels.

He guided Xeno’s feet into them one at a time, slowly, sliding it forward until it nestled into place. The black heels were glossy under the store lights. There were small little leather straps on top which he fastened, his throat dry.

They fit perfectly.

The click of the heels on the floor as Xeno dropped his feet broke the silence.

Stanley took in the sight of Xeno in those heels, legs parted, and his mind raced with what he would like to do to him like this. Heat coiled low in Stanley’s stomach.

God, his pants were way too tight now.

It took a while for them to calm down enough to leave the store with some decency. Stanley carried the shopping bags.

“You have cute feet,” Stanley said once they were outside. Understatement of the century.

“You pervert,” Xeno muttered, the tips of his ears tinged red.

A textbook case of the pot calling the kettle black.

 

Tossing and turning in bed, Stanley imagined what visiting Xeno’s house would be like. He had just received the invite for the first time.

He wondered if he would meet Xeno’s parents. Given what he was going there specifically to do to their son at his request, Stanely wasn’t sure he could keep a straight face around them. Still, he brought the container of homemade shortcake his mom had given him, slipped into some fancier clothes Xeno had bought him in a public washroom, and made his way over.

If Stanley wasn’t on the phone with Xeno, he might have thought he had gotten lost. From the front gate of the estate, he couldn’t actually see a house, just lush gardens filled with flowers and plants, tended to by hardworking staff.

They let him in and led him to where Xeno was waiting for him by the massive oak front doors. Stanley craned his neck up to take in the mansion and tried to pick his jaw up off the ground.

“My mom wanted me to bring this for your folks,” he said, raising the shortcake container.

“Thank you,” Xeno said. “Xavier, can you take that to the kitchen?”

A genial old man, the first real-life butler Stanley had ever met, took the container from Stanley’s hands and walked off with it.

Xeno led him up a grand wooden staircase, which wound up in what felt like an infinite spiral.

There was a picture hanging at the top that Stanley stopped to take in.

An adorably mini Xeno was in the center of the photo, dressed in a blue suit and bowtie. Behind him to the left was a sharply dressed man with entirely white hair despite looking quite young. To mini Xeno's right was a beautiful blond woman with a soft smile. If Stanley tilted his head at the right angle, there was some resemblance between her and Xeno.

“Let’s go.” Xeno insisted, and there was something sharp in his voice.

“Are your parents around?” Stanley asked. Even though he was nervous, it only felt right to at least greet them since this was his first time visiting.

“No,” Xeno said, his back to Stanley as he led him down the wide hallway.

Stanley would stop asking that question after he came over a few more times.

There was no point.

The answer was always the same.

Notes:

Next chapter is "what happens at Xeno's house".

In my edit through I decided Xeno's feet deserved more screentime lol so I added more content and split the chapter (hence bumping total to 20 now from 19).

Next chapter is still lengthy compared to the other chapters due to the amount of content it covers + it doesn't really make sense to split further.

Chapter 8

Stanley’s gaze swept across Xeno’s room. It was far bigger than his own at home. On the left, a full lab sprawled out. There were beakers with unidentified colored liquids inside releasing a faint chemical scent. Scattered across the table were gleaming gears, coils of wire, and the half-assembled frame of an engine.

Dominating the center of the room was a king-sized four-poster bed draped in soft purple silk sheets. Beside the bed, a tall mirror leaned against the wall. Stanley’s cheeks warmed, remembering the pictures Xeno had sent him, taken in front of this very mirror.

To the right, a sprawling wardrobe stood next to a sleek desk. It was topped with a humming desktop rig that that screamed expensive and custom.

A restless energy prickled along Stanley’s flesh. It wasn’t just from being in Xeno’s private space for the first time, but also because he had been invited here for a very specific purpose.

Xeno had given him some “homework” over the summer, and now it was time for him to inspect Stanley’s progress.

“You’re ready?” Xeno asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” Stanley answered, hoping his voice didn’t betray his nerves.

Without further ado, Xeno started undressing, the soft rustle of fabric filling the room as his fingers fumbled against buttons, betraying his excitement.

Stanley watched him, heat coloring his cheeks.

Soon, Xeno was in only his panties, garter belt, and stockings. He led Stanley over to his desk. He opened one drawer, revealing neatly coiled ropes in a spectrum of colors.

"Your choice," Xeno said, smiling.

Drawn to Xeno’s favorite, and knowing how well it suited him, Stanley chose deep purple.

Xeno hummed approvingly as he took the rope out of the drawer and then closed it shut. “It can be tricky at first, but practice makes perfect.”

Stanley didn’t say a word as he took the rope from Xeno’s hand. He had studied the videos Xeno had sent him with more eagerness than any textbook. Pausing, rewinding, rewatching. He had practiced knots with rope, tying them around his own arms and legs until he could figure out how tight was just right.

All so he could give Xeno this.

He didn’t start with a beginner tie. He went straight for Xeno’s favorite, one from a video Stanley had rewatched so many times he’d lost count. His fingers worked in a rhythm now engraved in muscle memory, looping and pulling the luxurious purple rope into a lattice of perfect diamonds.

Xeno stood still, but Stanley knew he was watching. He could feel heat radiating off of Xeno's body with every brush of his hands against his body while he worked.

Wide, dark eyes followed every motion, every pass of rope over familiar marks.

“You’re good at this,” Xeno said softly, “You’ve done it before?”

Stanley heart skipped at the praise. “I’ve had some experience with rope. Camping, climbing…” He tied off a knot and moved to the next. “Never anything like this.”

In no time at all, Stanley had replicated Xeno’s favorite pattern. Flawless.

He didn’t stop.

“Hands behind your back.”

Xeno obeyed instantly, folding his arms into a box tie position, his elbows bent, and wrists pressed together behind him.

This wasn’t a tie Xeno could achieve on his own.

He wound the rope slowly, methodically, binding Xeno’s wrists tight enough that resistance would only drive the rope deeper against his skin.

Stanley’s pulse quickened.

“On your knees.” There was no softness to the command.

Xeno dropped obediently to the plush carpet, knees parting slightly for balance.

Stanley watched the way his shoulders shifted under the tension of the tie, how his spine curved, how good he looked like this—exposed and waiting.

Stanley circled behind him, formed a double column around his thighs, binding them together. He tied Xeno's legs in such a way that couldn’t rise even if he wanted to.

“I didn’t teach you this,” Xeno murmured. There was awe in his voice, disbelief and something hungrier underneath.

“No,” Stanley said, “but I knew you'd love it.”

He wiped a drop of sweat off his brow and stepped back to inspect his complete handiwork. Pride and more than a little arousal suffused him.

Then, he shifted to the side, letting Xeno see himself in the mirror.

Kneeling.

Bound.

He was the picture of sin, pure gift-wrapped temptation on full display.

Stanley caught the subtle movement in Xeno’s shoulders as he tried to free himself.

He tugged, lightly at first, and then again, harder. Xeno couldn’t get free. A gasp tore out of him. Not pain. Pleasure.

Stanley could only imagine what was racing through Xeno’s head.

It might be the same thing racing through his.

He could do anything to Xeno, and he would be powerless to resist.

Then Xeno tilted his head back and looked up at him, wide-eyed, lips parted.

“Stan, please.”

That please was like drug. Stanley didn’t need to be told what it meant. Xeno’s expression was raw, his desire clear as day.  

“I like it when you beg.”

He moved in close and slid his fingers into Xeno’s perfect pompadour without warning. The strands were smooth under his touch, styled and stiff with product. But not enough to stop him.

He pressed in deeper, slow and deliberate, until the style began to give way beneath his palm.

“Hey! I spent time on that!” Xeno’s voice cracked with indignation, startled and tense. He gave Stanley a glare.

His shoulders jerked reflexively. Stanley saw the twitch of his bound wrists as if he were going to raise them to protect his hair, but the rope didn’t budge.

A grin tugged at Stanley’s lips.

Stanley gave one last sweep through, deliberately mussing the perfect height Xeno had so carefully crafted.

Hair cascaded in wild waves down his forehead, erasing his usual look of pristine elegance.

Something about seeing him like this—hair down, undone—felt almost more obscene than nudity. Like Stanley had reached beneath the surface, exposed something no one else was allowed to touch.

Then, Stanley grabbed a handful of Xeno’s hair and pulled. Hard enough to hurt a little and to tilt Xeno’s chin back and guide his gaze to the mirror once more.

There he was. Kneeling. Hair tousled. Rope tight around his limbs. A hard outline clearly visible, tenting his lace underwear.

Exposed, flushed, utterly at Stanley’s mercy.

Stanley, who was still fully dressed, towering over him, in control.

“You say that,” Stanley murmured, “but you love this too. Being helpless, under my control.”

With his free hand, he tightened the rope by pulling against the cords crossing Xeno’s back, increasing the pressure biting into sensitive skin.

Xeno's lashes fluttered, a whimpering moan leaking from his lips.

“You’re fucking perfect like this.”

He could see the mix of pain and pleasure, pressure and release washing over Xeno.

 

Xeno was still buzzing days later. He was practically glowing as he talked to Stanley on the bed, knees folded across from him. He was animated in a way that always made Stanley’s chest ache.

“It was a completely different experience than when I tie myself, far fewer degrees of freedom. If I had known earlier that being tied up by another person would feel so good…”

He trailed off, noticing the sharp look Stanley gave him. Something too bitter, too fast to hide.

“Oh but no one could be as good as you were! That was simply elegant. Better than anything I had imagined.”

Xeno tilted his head, studying him. “You know, I’ve been curious about something for a while now.”

“What?”

“You do such a good job giving me what I want.” Xeno’s voice was light. “Why don’t you take what you want? Like…” His eyes dropped to Stanley’s mouth. “You keep staring at my lips.”

Stanley froze. Had he been that obvious?

“Do you want to kiss me?”

Stanley looked at him. The confident act he put on for Xeno when he was granting his wishes was nowhere to be seen.

He was just teenage boy with a crush, scared that wanting the wrong thing would make him lose everything.

“I do,” Stanley admitted, his mouth moving before his brain could catch up. “I want to kiss you. Gently.” There was an awful feeling twisting in his gut. “I haven't because... Xeno… you don’t want that, do you?”

Xeno blinked. “I admit that it wouldn’t do much for me.”

Stanley felt the words like a slap. His chest constricted. He looked away before he could say something stupid.

Then Xeno added, “But that’s fine. We’re partners. I don’t want you to stop spoiling me, so let me spoil you too.”

Xeno leaned forward. He reached out and cupped Stanley’s cheek, pulling them closer until their noses nearly touched. His breath was warm, his eyes unreadable. And then he kissed him. Soft, slow, careful.

It was everything Stanley had dreamed of.

Except it wasn’t.

It felt wrong.

When they pulled apart, Xeno leaned in close, voice almost a whisper, “Stan, I love—”

“Don’t.” Stanley crushed him in a hug before he could finish the words he didn’t mean. “Please.” His voice cracked a little, but he didn’t let go. “I’ll do my best as your partner, so you don’t need to do anything you don’t want to.”

Of course he could tell. It had only been a few months, but Stanley had come to know very well what Xeno desired. And what he didn't. He was his perfect partner after all.

Xeno only craved pain, humiliation, suffering. Not softness, tenderness. Love.

He felt Xeno nodding against his shoulder. "Okay."

When Stanley finally let Xeno go, he was embarrassed that he had teared up a little. He hoped Xeno wouldn’t notice.

He had expected this painful conversation to be over, not for Xeno to kiss him again.

A little firmer this time.

Stanley looked at him, confused.

 

“Since it’s you, I want to,” Xeno said, voice soft.

He watched Stanley, the moment suspended between them like a fragile thread.

The small, hopeful smile that blossomed across Stanley’s lips made Xeno feel like it was worth it.

He wondered if they would break each other given they were so fundamentally mismatched in their desires.

But in this moment, Stanley was too beautiful to resist, and Xeno was too selfish to stop.

Notes:

Not the pomp! Anything but the pomp! LOL it's okay Xeno enjoyed it ^^

Chapter 9

Stanley splashed cold water over his face, drops sliding down his neck as he saw his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. A few damp strands clung to his forehead. The pad of his index finger traced his lips as he remembered how soft Xeno’s had felt.

It had been his first kiss.

Followed quickly by his second.

His heart pounded as he remembered.

He wanted to kiss Xeno more, but he wanted Xeno to want it too.

He didn’t want Xeno to think it was boring or pointless.

He wanted it to feel as electric and all-consuming for Xeno as it did for him.

Just then, his eyes drift to his mom’s makeup, which was sitting in its usual corner on the bathroom counter.

A lightbulb went off in his head.

 

“No rope?” Xeno looked like a kicked puppy as Stanley shook his head.

“Wanted to try something new.”

“Oh? I like it when you get ideas.” Xeno perked up, curiosity sparkling in his eyes like stars.

It was the last day of summer vacation. Soon, they would be going back to school. It had been the most memorable summer of Stanley’s entire life. He had experienced many firsts with Xeno.

It still felt like there were a lot of things left unresolved and unsaid between them, but that was okay.

They were still together, and Stanley was genuinely grateful for that.

Xeno followed Stanley’s guidance. He sat in a chair placed facing the full-length mirror.

There was a subtle tension in his legs, the way he flexed his thighs, like a coiled spring, causing the chair to lightly creak.

Anticipation.

He was naked except for his black garter belt, stockings, and panties.

His eyes lit up when Stanley took out what he had brought.

Stanley popped the lid off the cool, metallic tube. He twisted the bottom clockwise until deep purple slid up in a perfect, tempting curve.

He had to go to a few stores to find one in this exact shade.

Xeno’s favorite.

“Don’t speak,” Stanley’s tone was like smooth steel. He gripped Xeno’s jaw, tilting it up until Xeno’s breath stuttered.

With his other hand, he colored the cupid’s bow of Xeno’s lips, tracing the plush fullness with quiet focus. Then, the bottom lip was lavished with the same attention.

He could feel the warmth of Xeno’s breaths brushing his wrist, heart the light drag of wax over lush lips.

Xeno’s pupils dilated. His lips parted when Stanley finished, but he stayed silent as he had been told.

Xeno was good at obeying.

“I’m going to kiss you, is that okay?”

Xeno nodded.

Stanley leaned in, his hand grasping the side of Xeno’s neck.

The kiss was louder, messier, harsher than their previous ones. Intentionally, so. Stanley slid his tongue past Xeno’s parted lips, tasting him like he had every right to—slow, deep, claiming. Mixed with Xeno’s taste was a hint of chemical from the lipstick. Stanley gave Xeno’s bottom lip a parting bite as they broke apart. Xeno looked out of breath and wrecked, with lipstick smeared, and a small trail of drool trailing down his chin.

Unable to help himself, Stanley smeared the drool, spreading it deliberately across more of Xeno’s face.

The trembling in Xeno’s body gave away his excitement.

Stanley applied more lipstick to what had already transferred onto his lips from Xeno’s. Then, holding eye contact with Xeno, he leaned down to press a purple imprint to Xeno’s shoulder.

He left more, his breath ghosting across Xeno’s skin as he mapped his body with his kisses.

On Xeno’s pale neck.

Against his nipple. Stanley made a mental note that Xeno seemed particularly sensitive there.

Down to his stomach.

He went slow, savoring the soft gasps that left Xeno’s lips.

Stanley added a teasing hint of wetness with his tongue.

Xeno gripped the arms of the chair, his knuckles white.

Stanley wielded the lipstick like a decadent weapon, dragging it in slow, deliberate strokes over the pale heat of Xeno’s skin. The scent of chemicals and wax drifted in the air.

He wrote MASOCHIST in bold strokes across Xeno’s chest, making sure two of the strokes brushed purposefully right over Xeno’s nipples.

Lower on his abdomen, he scrawled PROPERTY OF.

He signed his initials.

Xeno’s breath hitched sharply. His thighs shook as a thin whimper caught in his throat. His hips shifted back and forward instinctively in small, aborted thrusts, seeking friction.

Stanley gripped Xeno’s legs, covered in silky stockings, and kissed the inside of his thighs, just over the red mark of rope. He could smell the musk of Xeno’s arousal.

“Stan,” Xeno begged, desperate.

Stanley smile at him, lips painted in the same deep purple now staining Xeno’s skin.

He was between Xeno’s legs, but there was no doubt about who was in control here.

“You’re allowed to wash your lips off after this,” he said, knowing exactly what his words would do to Xeno, “but nothing else.”

The command struck Xeno like lightning. His lashes fluttered, a shiver coursing through him. He could already see it: walking into school tomorrow with these filthy, glorious words still written on him.

Marked by Stanley.

Then, without warning, Stanley leaned in, his breath warming the thin lace before he kissed the outline of Xeno’s cock through it, feather light. His eyes never left Xeno’s.

The sight of that, the feel of it, shattered what little control Xeno had left.

He came with a sharp, breathless cry, hips jerking as he spilled inside the soft fabric, his body shuddering violently with the release. The fabric of the panties clung to him, wet.

Stanley leaned his cheek against one of Xeno’s thighs. Xeno’s skin felt feverishly hot. Stanley’s hand stroked the other thigh in gentle, possessive sweeps. He waited for Xeno to ride out his orgasm, basking in the pleasure he’d been able to provide.

Xeno’s breathing was uneven as he came down from the rush.

Once he had recovered, he pulled Stanley in for a kiss.

“You’ve converted me,” he said, with wonder in his eyes, tasting lipstick on Stanley’s grin.

Notes:

I dedicate this chapter to Stanley's sexy lips and lipstick <3

We get a teasing glimpse of Xeno's sensitive nipples here but they will return for a full encore down the line...

Chapter 10

Leaves turned brilliant shades of red and orange as summer rolled into fall.

Xeno was curious what Stanley had planned when he asked for them to meet him at school one morning. Xeno was dressed for the outdoors like Stanley had asked, in a navy merino wool top and water-resistant pants. An outdoor jacket kept him warm.

“Hi Mrs. Synder,” Xeno greeted, in model student mode. He was seated in the backseat of the Snyder family van with Stanley.

“Hi Xeno, thanks for always looking after our Stanley. It’s great he’s found such a good friend at Stonebridge so soon.”

A delicious mix of shame and guilt engulfed Xeno. The Synder family would probably want to kill him if they knew what he had roped their precious son into.

Xeno had a dozen questions about Stanley’s plans, but he didn’t ask any of them. Stanley had whispered to him earlier that this was a secret surprise, and he did like Stanley’s surprises very much.

Mrs. Snyder drove them two hours out of town to the nearest national park.

He wondered if Stanley had brought him here for a hike. The thought didn’t exactly overwhelm him with enthusiasm.

He was pleasantly surprised however, as he watched Stanley unload camping gear from the back of van, as well as a familiar black case.

“Hey! That’s my Celestron NexStar Evolution 8,” Xeno said, recognizing his telescope case.

He was confused how it had ended up at the back of the Stanley family van.

“I thought it was better to bring yours than to get whatever subpar one I could afford off Amazon,” Stanley gave a non-explanation with a casual shrug.

“I’ll come pick you boys up tomorrow,” Mrs. Snyder said, waving goodbye. “Oh, and Xeno, happy birthday dear!”

After she had driven off, leaving the two of them, he turned to Stanley.

“How did you know?”

Xeno had never told him.

“Xavier told me when I asked.” Stanley started to lead the way with equipment under each arm and a bag on his back. “He was happy to know that you’d made a friend.”

“A friend?” Xeno asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Among other things,” Stanley said. Xeno found the redness on the tips of his ears delightful. “I thought stargazing would be a nice way to celebrate your birthday tomorrow. It’s going to take some climbing before we get to a good spot. Are you up for it?”

Xeno nodded. “I’ve never understood some people’s desire to ascend and descend mountains with no specific purpose. To get a better view of the stars though… that is a truly elegant purpose I can appreciate.”

Xeno didn’t understand how Stanley could stay so calm and at ease. The only hint of exertion was a few drops of sweat sliding down his face. He looked like he could cover ten times the distance, even with all the weight he was carrying. He was breathing through his nose, lips casually wrapped around a lollipop. Meanwhile, Xeno kept on having to stop, panting, to take gulps of water.

“You sure you don’t want me to carry the telescope?” Stanley offered.

Xeno shook his head. Stanley was already carrying way more than him. “I’ll. Be. Fine. Just need to rest a moment.”

“Hey, there’s no rush. Take your time.”

Stanley asked Xeno some science questions as they walked. Xeno suspected it was to keep his mind off the hike, so he would feel less tired.

It worked.

He had just finished explaining what orbital perturbations were, when Stanley said with a grin, “We’re here!”

They arrived at a clearing halfway up a mountain just as the sun was about to set.

Xeno smiled approvingly.

This was an exceptional stargazing spot. Clearly well researched.

He remembered Stanley saying he had plans last weekend and couldn’t meet up.

Could he have been scouting for this spot?

“I’ll just set up the tent and a fire real quick and we can have dinner.”

Xeno found watching Stanley at work to be extremely enjoyable. The teen unfolded the tent like it was second nature, his fingers deftly snapping poles into place with a satisfying click. He stretched the fabric taut, securing the corners with precision before hammering stakes into the ground with steady, practiced strikes.

Then, Stanley gathered tinder, kindling and wood, forming them into a triangular frame. He struck a lighter and Xeno couldn’t stop watching how the glow of the miniature flame reflected in his amber eyes.

The fire caught and grew until it was a crackling blaze. Xeno smelled the telltale hiss of pyrolysis releasing volatile gases, which combusted in dancing tongues of orange and blue. Smoke curled upward in pale ribbons.

Xeno’s hands trembled, hidden inside the pocket of the jacket he had brought, as he was struck with the urge to touch the flame.

To experience a different kind of pain.

He looked away. Not today.

“You know you didn’t have to do all this, right? I don’t usually celebrate it much.” Xeno watched Stanley, who was skewering some hot dogs for their dinner. They were sitting on a log next to each other, knees brushing. “The staff serve an extra slice of cake at dinner, but that’s about it.”

He peered into Stanley’s eyes, wondering how much he knew. Wondering if this was all out of pity.

What he saw was only earnestness. “I want to do this for you. I want to make you happy.”

Stanley didn’t mention Xeno’s family. Didn’t probe.

Xeno wanted to tell him this wasn’t what he needed, that he wanted Stanley to make him happy by hurting him in the most delicious ways, not by taking him stargazing.

Later, as he gazed through the telescope to the unobstructed night sky, he was no longer sure.

They took turns peering through the telescope, their shoulders brushing. Xeno named constellations and traced their lines in the air for Stanley to follow. The scent of pine and cold air mingled with the faint heat of Stanley at his side.

“Someday, I’m going to work for NASA and build a rocket that’s going to take humanity further than it’s ever been. Science is elegant.”

It felt strangely good to say it out loud.

Maybe, this too, was Stanley fulfilling his role as Xeno’s partner. Giving Xeno what he didn’t even know he wanted.

“Xeno,” Stanley declared, spreading his arms wide. “I’m going to be an astronaut one day and ride your rocket to the stars.”

Ridiculous, but when Stanley said it, Xeno somehow believed.

“It’s a promise,” he said, and he leaned in to give Stanley a light kiss on the corner of his lips. The memory of waxy purple lipstick flashed through his mind, sending a shiver through him.

Casually, before the end of the stargazing session, he asked, “So when’s your birthday?”

“Oh, it was last month.”

Xeno didn’t ask why Stanley hadn’t told him. In all honesty, he hadn’t thought to ask about this seemingly irrelevant detail. He was irrationally bothered by the fact that Stanley had done something nice for him, and he’d have to wait almost a whole year to pay him back properly.

The walk back to the tent was quiet. Xeno found himself hyper-aware of Stanley’s closeness, the sound of his breathing.

By the time they stumbled back to the tent, it was deep into the night. The tent’s thin walls barely kept out the chill, but the heat pooling inside Xeno more than made up for it.

He sank onto his sleeping bag, peeling off his jacket, then dragging his shirt over his head. Bare skin was revealed, along with the rope marks that branded him.

Stanley stood frozen, halfway out of his own shirt, eyes dark, devouring every inch of Xeno’s skin. There was a hunger in his eyes.

A promise of danger if Xeno wanted it.

Shadows stretched long behind them from the LED lantern’s glow.

“Like what you see?” Xeno teased, voice dripping with challenge.

“Yeah,” Stanley breathed.

“If we’re celebrating my birthday, can I have one more treat?”

Stanley nodded, and Xeno saw the bob of his Adam’s apple in anticipation.

“Stand up.”

Stanley did so.

Xeno shifted on his knees to slide between Stanley’s legs.

He leaned close enough to feel the heat radiating from Stanley, rubbing a cheek experimentally against the bulge already straining in his pants.

He smiled at Stanley’s gasp.

Xeno’s hands skimmed over the taut skin where Stanley’s waistband clung, fingers curling. Never one for patience, he dragged down pants and briefs in one motion.

Stanley gasped as cold air kissed his already hard cock. The tip was glistening.

Xeno leaned forward, long lashes fluttering as he drank in the sight.

Bare, swollen, impossibly thick. He’d only seen the teasing outline of it against fabric before. This was so much more.

His lips parted, tongue just barely wetting them before he leaned in. He let his tongue glide over the swollen head in a slow experimental sweep. The first taste was overwhelming—salt, sweat, and the thick, musky heat of Stanley’s arousal, so potent it felt like it branded the inside of his mouth.

“Fuck… Xeno.”

The sheer weight of Stanley on his tongue was obscene.

The suspicion that there was no way it would all fit sent a delicious shiver through him.

He snaked his fingers through Stanley’s, guiding them to the back of his head. A silent ask for Stanley to take control.

Desire tore through his nerves, sharp and electric.

He craved it: the helpless stretch, the suffocating fullness, the intoxicating humiliation of being owned.

Of being used until there was nothing left.

The perfect present.

“Ah—wait,” Stanley rasped. He fumbled one-handed in his pocket, cock twitching dangerously close to Xeno’s mouth, and pulled out his lighter. “Here… hold this.” His breath was uneven. “If you don’t like anything, just throw it at me. Or drop it!”

He was flushed with arousal, and his erection looked like it couldn’t stand another second of restraint. Even then, shaking with the urge to take, he had forced himself to slow down, to make sure Xeno would be okay.

Xeno gripped the lighter tight and settled his hand against Stanley’s hard abdomen.

“I promise. So, please don’t stop ruining me unless I let go.”

He wrapped his lips around Stanley’s hard cock, jaw aching with the exquisite pain of being stretched more than was comfortable. A rough, ragged inhale of as much oxygen as he could muster through his nose, then he shoved himself deeper, loving the feeling of choking on it.

Stanley didn’t disappoint. His hands clamped down, fingers tangling in Xeno’s hair like a leash. Xeno was addicted to the sharp thrill of the pain, the feeling of being powerless as Stanley used him.

Stanley was absolutely merciless, exactly what he’d begged for.

Like some kind of optical illusion, Stanley’s cock felt far bigger in Xeno’s mouth than it had looked. And it had already looked big.

Even though Stanley was far from gentle, it still wouldn’t completely fit.

“You’re so fucking tight, Xeno.”

Xeno felt his vision blurring, his face a complete mess of saliva, snot, and tears.

Each thrust dragged wet, obscene sounds from his throat, the slick slide and faint choke echoing in his own ears like a prayer.

“Look at you. You loved being used like this, don’t you? Keep that pretty little mouth wide open for me. This is all yours to take.”

Xeno drowned in the perfect mix of humiliation and pain. He loved the raw ache of being nothing more than a warm, willing hole for Stanley’s pleasure. Every thrust carved the truth deeper into him: he wasn’t meant to be cherished right now, only used, and it was…

It was perfect.

All thoughts flew out of his head as Stanley ramped up the pace. His body felt like it was floating.

He held the lighter firmly in his grasp. Xeno’s silent request to his partner, whatever you do, don’t stop.

Xeno felt Stanley’s hold begin to slightly loosen, and he could guess why.

He pushed his hand with the lighter harder into Stanley.

I haven’t let go. I can take it. More.

A broken, desperate moan vibrated his filled throat.

Stanley seemed to hear him loud and clear.

His grip tightened and he held Xeno’s head in place as he spilled deep and hot.

Each heavy pulse hit the back of Xeno’s throat and slid straight down, thick and slick, without giving him the chance to swallow—just forcing its way deeper with every surge.

“Xeno!” Stanley gasped his name, ragged and desperate.

Only after the last trembling drop left did he finally release his hold.

Xeno pulled back, his chest heaving. His throat burned, raw and tight, and he fumbled at the tent zipper. His gag reflex was finally reasserting its existence, and he was concerned he was going to throw up in the tent.

Xeno hacked and dry heaved into the cool night, gasping for breath, his body shaking.

“Are you okay?” There was severe panic in Stanley’s voice as he rushed to Xeno’s side. “I'll grab you some water!”

Xeno worked to regulate his breathing, mind swimming in a haze of heat and exhaustion.

He felt a stickiness against his underwear.

He had been so blissed out that he couldn’t even recall the exact moment he had come.

He tried to speak a few times, but his voice failed him.

After a sip of water, it finally did come out, much quieter and raspier than usual.

“I loved it. Thank you, Stan.”

Before they went to sleep, he kissed Stanley and wrapped his arms around the trembling blond in a tight hug before pulling back into his own sleeping bag.

“This was the best birthday ever,” he whispered, raw and honest, into the dark.

He could still recall the sharp fear in Stanley’s eyes.

Xeno only hoped that his soothing words and reassurances would be enough.

Notes:

A very intense chapter... to be followed by another intense chapter.

I will be adding a trigger warning to the top of the next one so please take note, and I'll also update the tags before posting.

Chapter 11

Notes:

Trigger Warning: Non-con (in a dream); can skip the first section in italics if you wish to avoid

“You’ve always been such a little tease,” Stanley grunted.

His nails dug deep into Xeno’s soft skin with every thrust. They bit deeper and deeper, until like talons sinking into prey, they pierced it.

Stanley used one hand to control Xeno, continuing to slam into him relentlessly, chasing his climax.

The other travelled up to his lips.

His tongue swirled around, capturing the metallic liquid.

It was more addicting than any sweet.

He watched dark rope sliding against the red marks that always adorned Xeno’s skin.

A sense of possessiveness swelled in him.

Stanley had sealed away Xeno’s ability to resist with every knot, until he was completely at his mercy.

“It’s about time I took what I want.”

He was going to fuck Xeno until he couldn’t remember his own name. Couldn’t remember anything other than the feeling of being filled so completely. He would train Xeno’s body until it burned with a need only he could satisfy.

His hands wrapped around Xeno’s throat as he rocked into him, harder, faster. Sweat-stained silver strands and fragile skin were crushed under his hands. He leaned forward, not caring that he was making it even harder for Xeno to breathe with his weight.

Stanley felt Xeno's body shake like a leaf beneath him.

I t only brought him closer to the edge.

Xeno had never looked more beautiful, painted in gorgeous purple bruises.

Xeno was saying something, but Stanley didn’t care.

He was so close. Xeno’s tight ass felt like it was sucking him back in every time he pulled back.

Stanley’s grin was feral, his amber eyes glowing.

Why hadn’t he done this sooner?

After indulging Xeno’s every whim, it was time to claim his prize.

His hands tightened as he spilled inside that fitted heat that felt like it could melt him.

“Stop.” Xeno had begged him over and over, until his voice was broken and hoarse.

 He’d repeated the safe word until he realized that it wasn’t that Stanley couldn’t hear him.

It was that Stanley had chosen not to listen.

 

Stanley woke up feeling like a truck had run him over. More than once.

His morning wood was gone almost as soon as he noticed it, as the memories of the dream assaulted him.

He looked at his hands.

No blood.

Stanley forced himself to take steadying breaths to avoid hyperventilating.

It’s not real. It’s not real.

I’m not that kind of person.

I don’t want that.

He desperately wanted to contact Xeno, even though it was so early that he would certainly still be asleep.

Stanley craved for Xeno to hug him, tell him it was okay, that he wasn’t hurt.

He didn’t reach for his phone.

He was scared that instead of understanding what had disturbed Stanley so much about his dream, Xeno would instead reply with that silky voice that could simultaneously steal his soul and break his heart in two, “I like it when you get ideas.”

The hot water of the shower couldn’t wash away the dark thoughts under his skin. He scrubbed until his skin was raw, but his mind still echoed with the contents of the dream.

Stanley had been a perfectly normal teenager only six months ago, before he’d found out about Xeno’s secret and everything had changed. Back then, when he’d had the vague thought of a partner, he’d pictured holding hands, soft touches and kisses, maybe making love when both felt ready for it.

Instead, he’d hurt and humiliated Xeno countless times.

It was at Xeno’s behest, but that didn’t make it any better.

He knew deep down that Xeno wanted more.

What they had done was just scratching the surface.

It had been okay at first.

Stanley had told himself he was just being a good partner for Xeno. Granting his wishes.

It made him happy to see Xeno happy.

Then, as he did those cruel things, he had started enjoying it.

He had had the best orgasm of his life coming from fucking Xeno’s throat raw. Fucking his mouth until he was crying.

Now, he might just be permanently broken. Messed up beyond repair.

Stanley donned a t-shirt and shorts, skipping breakfast to try to wipe away any remnants of the dream with an intense morning run.

 

Stanley originally planned to have a serious discussion with Xeno when they got to the other’s room after school. The thought of what he wanted to say, and what it might result in, weighed heavy on his heart.

Xeno’s excited smile as he asked Stanley to wait for him on the bed completely derailed his plan.

The white-haired teen had a small skip in his step as he headed for the washroom.

Stanley forced his fingers, curled into fists, to open.

He didn’t want to ruin Xeno’s day.

Knowing that he was lying to himself, Stanley thought perhaps he’d wait until tomorrow to have the conversation.

He could hear Xeno’s voice, steady and intellectual through the door.

It was comforting because it sounded nothing like the Xeno in his dreams.

“Halloween is historically rooted in Samhain, when the Celts believed the veil between worlds thinned, and people wore disguises to ward off spirits. Now, it’s a sugar-fueled spectacle driven by capitalism. But it’s not all bad news…”

The bathroom door swung open with a soft click, and Xeno stepped out.

“It gave me the idea to do this.”

The overhead light caught the crisp black-and-white of the maid uniform, casting delicate shadows across the pleats of the skirt and the gleaming buttons that fastened the black bodice snugly to his waist. The lace trim along the hems fluttered slightly as Xeno stepped closer.

White stockings hugged his legs to just above the knee, echoing the satin sheen of his gloves. A black ribbon circled his throat like a secret begging to be untied, and a lace headband crowned his pale hair in a final, delicate touch.

Stanley’s breath caught, and his pulse kicked up in his throat, helpless against the tightening in his groin.

Xeno smiled. “You like it?”

All Stanley could do was nod.

“Excellent.” Xeno gave Stanley a flawless curtsey, his feet crossing elegantly. “Then please have your way with me, Master.” The title came out low, almost taunting, like he wanted Stanley to earn it.

Stanley knew, as he always did, exactly what Xeno wanted.

Pain. Humiliation. Suffering.

But something was different, broken in him today.

“Come here,” Stanley called. His voice was soft, instead of rough and commanding.

When Xeno stepped close enough, Stanley’s hands closed around his hips, dragging him down into his lap. They were both facing the mirror, offering Xeno a full view of what Stanley was about to do.

“Be a good girl for me tonight,” Stanley murmured, his fingers running slow, claiming paths up the curve of Xeno’s stockings.

Stanley didn’t phrase it as a question. He knew if he did, then Xeno would no doubt want to be a “bad girl” who got punished instead.

“Spread your legs.”

“Yes, Master.” There was a tremor to Xeno’s response.

His back met the hard, unyielding plane of Stanley’s chest as he obeyed, the thick heat under him impossible to mistake. Each slight movement pressed it firmer against him.

Stanley’s hands ghosted higher, pushing the skirt aside to tease the pale, heated skin of Xeno’s inner thighs available just above his stockings.

“Good girl,” Stanley praised. “Hold them open for me. Like this.”

Xeno’s hands followed Stanley’s guidance. He curled his gloved fingers around the backs of his thighs and pulled his legs apart. He was positioned precariously with his heels in the air, relying on Stanley to keep him steady. His actions revealed white lace clinging tight over his cock, the delicate pattern stretched taut by the hard swell beneath, a tiny satin bow at the waistband drawing the eye like a coy invitation. A dark patch bloomed where the thin fabric struggled to contain him, each throb making the lace shift against the sensitive skin it barely covered.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this. Go on, take a look.”

Xeno’s lashes lowered, casting shadows over his eyes as if to shield the raw need in them, but in the mirror, it was caught with merciless clarity. When Stanley told him to look, he did, and the color in his cheeks deepened at the sight.

His teeth caught his lower lip, so no sound left them, but his uneven breaths gave him away.

Stanley felt Xeno’s stiffness, hot and hard, as he ran his hand lightly over the thin lace. He felt wetness staining his fingers.

He drew his hand back and brought it to his nose.

The scent was sharp, intimate, unmistakable.

Stanley inhaled slowly, deliberately. “You smell nice.”

A broken whimper slipped from Xeno’s throat.

Stanley’s left arm wrapped around Xeno’s chest, locking him in place, his fingers brushing over the swell of his nipple through the fabric of the uniform. His other hand, slick with the proof of Xeno’s arousal, travelled up to Xeno’s lips.

“Open,” he ordered.

Xeno obeyed, lips parting to reveal a small, flushed tongue trembling with anticipation. Stanley pressed his index and middle fingers against it, watching in the mirror as Xeno’s tongue curled around them, dragging along the length with a wet, deliberate swirl before sucking them deep into his mouth. The obscene pull of his lips, the flicker of his tongue over the pads of Stanley’s fingers, made every breath between them feel hotter, hungrier.

Stanley pulled his fingers out of Xeno’s mouth, a small trail of saliva following. A small, disappointed sigh left Xeno at the loss.

“Your Master is going to touch you,” Stanley murmured, voice low and dangerous. “Milk you until you make a complete mess of yourself.”

“Yes… Master,” Xeno breathed, sounding far too excited at the thought.

Stanley smirked. “Uh-uh. You’re going to have to beg for it first.”

Xeno didn’t. Not right away.

Silently pleading for punishment.

Stanley didn’t give it to him. His voice was low and thick with indulgence. “That’s fine. I can wait.” With infuriating gentleness, Stanley dragged his slick fingers back down, tracing the outline of Xeno’s cock through the damp fabric.

Stanley was confident in his patience as a sharpshooter.

Xeno tried to move his hips, but the position made it almost impossible. Stanley had him pinned almost effortlessly with his arm, and his own hands were still occupied spreading his legs.

“Not unless you beg,” Stanley reminded him, continuing his teasing touches, knowing they were far from enough.

Xeno’s eyes glistened, bottom lashes wet as if they might spill tears of need. His body trembled, muscles straining with the ache of want, every nerve screaming for the release that Stanley so deliberately withheld.

“At least your body’s honest, so wet for me already.”

Xeno’s gloved fingers tightened. His mouth opened, but no words came, only a broken moan.

Then, Stanley cupped him firmly, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over the soaked lace.

The pressure was too much to bear.

“Please, Master.” Xeno’s voice was barely a whisper.

“I can’t hear you.”

Xeno closed his eyes, raising his volume. “Please, Master! I want you to m-milk me until I’m a mess.”

Stanley was happy to oblige, his calloused hand finally sliding through the damp lace to free Xeno’s cock, already red and pulsing. A soft, wet sigh escaped Xeno as Stanley’s thumb brushed the tip, gathering slick precum and spreading it along the heated shaft with his palm. The skin was hot, slick, and sensitive, eager for his touch.

Stanley’s strokes were slow, deliberate, the steady slap of slick skin against skin mingling with Xeno’s ragged breathing. Every movement drew low, helpless noises from Xeno’s lips.

“Faster,” Xeno whined.

“Is that how good girls ask for something?”

“Please!” Xeno begged, his usual pride overcome by raw need. “Faster please, Master!” Xeno was flushed to the tips of his ears, jaw slack, eyes glassy with need. His calves were taut under smooth stockings, muscles straining as his feet curled in midair. He hadn’t let go of his knees the whole time. He held himself wide open, obedient, trembling under the weight of wanting more.

“Good girl,” Stanley praised. His hand picked up speed, twisting slightly at the tip on every upstroke, rough enough to make Xeno gasp. His palm was slick, movements rhythmic, merciless.

Xeno’s moans grew louder, his cock throbbing under Stanley’s grip, dripping, aching.

When Stanley could tell he was close, he paused.

Xeno's reaction was immediate. “Please,” he gasped, his voice breaking. “Don’t stop, I—I'm so— Please, Master, I need it, I need you to finish me… I’ll be good, I’ll do anything, just—”

Stanley savored Xeno's desperation.

A beat later, he started up again.

“Don’t look away,” Stanley ordered. “I want you to see how lewd you look.” He watched Xeno’s gaze in the mirror. “Watch yourself as you come for your Master.”

Xeno obeyed, crying out as a streak of his come spilling hot over Stanley’s fingers and shooting up across his own trembling stomach.

Stanley stroked him through the orgasm, slow and gentle, until Xeno was wrung out, oversensitive and gasping for breath, shaking in his lap.

 

Afterwards, Stanley helped get Xeno a wet towel to clean up.

Having satisfied Xeno, Stanley opened his mouth to excuse himself for the evening.

Before he could, Xeno slipped off the bed until was kneeling in front of Stanley. Leaning into the space between Stanley’s legs, he pressed his pale cheek against a strong thigh, only inches away from Stanley’s neglected erection. Long, dark lashes framed his eyes as he looked up at Stanley. His words were like sweet poison. “I can’t leave my Master like this.”

Stanley flashed back to the previous, and only, time Xeno had given him a blowjob. He thought of his disturbing dream from that morning.

He was already out of whatever headspace he had been in earlier.

“Xeno…”

Xeno’s gloved hands were undoing Stanley’s belt, eager for his treat.

A dozen words floated in Stanley’s head, but none of him left his throat.

Then, one specific one slipped out.

“Hydrogen.”

Stanley regretted it the moment it left his lips. What kind of horrible partner was he, that he was using the safe word instead of Xeno? He felt like nothing but a disappointment. He stood, frozen in place, waiting for Xeno to laugh at him, to say he was being ridiculous, to tell him to leave and never come back.

Instead, Xeno was gentle as he guided Stanley lightly until he was sitting back onto the bed.

“Let me do all the work. I’ll be good and gentle for you, Master.”

His gloved hand wrapped around Stanley’s, not in the way a maid would touch her Master. It was quietly reassuring, and Stanley heard the silent message.

I heard you. If you say it again, I will stop.

It was nothing like the last time.

Xeno gave Stanley’s length kittenish licks with his tongue and made soft, contented noises as he wrapped his lips around it. He didn’t push himself too far, seeking pain. When he could only get halfway down without choking, he peeled off a glove and used his warm hand to stroke the rest. Every so often, he stopped to catch his breath before continuing, determined to pleasure Stanley.

Stanley grew harder, enthralled by how Xeno’s gentle attentiveness made him feel worshiped and adored. Even the occasional feeling of teeth, showing Xeno’s inexperience, only made his arousal build.

This was fundamentally different than all their sexual activities until now, which had been focused on Xeno’s pleasure.

In this moment, Xeno was only focused on making Stanley feel good.

There was no heat of humiliation, nor sting of pain.

Just Xeno’s warm mouth and hand working hard to bring Stanley to climax.

“I-I’m close,” Stanley warned. It was impossible for him to last long with Xeno looking at him with those impossibly dark eyes while his mouth continued its obscene service.

Xeno had been completely in control and setting the pace the whole time, Stanley’s hands curled into bedsheets by his sides.

Now, Xeno pulled his mouth off him with a wet pop, looking at him with eyes that requested gently but did not demand.

Stanley wrapped his hand around Xeno’s. Together, they stroked Stanley’s hardness.

Once. Twice. And then he came.

White splashed onto Xeno’s cheek, a few stray spurts staining the maid uniform.

Xeno smiled at that.

 

“There’s something on your mind,” Xeno said, cleaning his face off with tissues.

“It’s nothing.” Stanley’s response came too quick.

What Xeno had done for him made a warmth blossom in Stanley’s chest, but a dark shadow loomed over it.

Surely, Xeno hadn’t done it because he felt the way Stanley did. That was an illusion too good to be true.

He was merely satisfying his partner so Stanley could satisfy him more.

The fact that he hadn’t been able to give Xeno the pain he’d craved earlier made him feel inadequate.

He’d even used the safeword.

Xeno frowned. “I don’t like it when you lie to me.”

Stanley didn’t even protest. Of course, Xeno knew.

Xeno sat at the edge of the bed and patted his lap. He had still not changed out of the maid costume. “Stan, come here.”

Stanley hesitated, but ultimately, he let himself rest his head on Xeno’s lap. Xeno’s ungloved fingers threaded gently through his golden strands.

They stayed like that in silence for a few minutes before Stanley spoke.

“When you do things like this… it makes me feel guilty.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re trying to make me happy. And I’m not sure I can give you enough back. Not in the way you want.” His voice was quiet, muffled against Xeno’s thigh. He didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see disappointment in Xeno’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He felt a soft bop on the crown of his head.

“Idiot.” Xeno’s voice was incredulous. “You’ve already given me more than I ever thought I’d have.”

“I like making you happy,” Stanley continued, “but lately I’ve been… enjoying it too much.” He wasn’t sure if Xeno would understand. He himself felt like a bundle of contradiction. “For the longest time, I worried that I couldn’t do more for you, and now I’m worried of the opposite. I had a dream this morning where I hurt you. Not in a good way.” He shared the dream, grounding himself to the warmth of Xeno’s lap.

He braced himself, with no idea at all how Xeno would react.

But Xeno just took a breath, long and slow, and rested a hand against Stanley’s cheek.

“That’s what I love about you.”

Stanley’s looked up, his amber eyes wide and confused.

Xeno was smiling down at him, a few strands of his silver hair having come loose from their earlier activities. “That’s why you’re the only one I’d trust to hurt me. You care too much to ever do it wrong.”

Stanley blinked.

“You always think you're not enough. Too soft. Too hard. Too careful. Too reckless. It’s not true.”

He bent down, placing a gentle kiss on Stanley’s forehead. “You’re my perfect partner just as you are.”

Stanley let out a shaky breath. He felt warm all over, like Xeno’s words were burning away something heavy inside him.

He pressed his face into Xeno’s thigh again, not to hide, but to savor the closeness. Xeno’s fingers threaded through his hair, slow and steady, until the last of the tension bled out of his shoulders.

In that moment, he felt like Xeno was an angel, even if he was anything but.

Yet if that demon wanted to draw him back into their twisted little contract, Stanley could not resist.

He could only fall.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Notes:

This chapter definitely suffers from uneven chapter length syndrome.

It also happens to be my favorite chapter <3

Xeno in a maid costume just... really hits the spot for me haha

Chapter 12

Stanley knew Xeno was up to no good when he received a text to meet in the third-floor bathroom.

Though it was perfect room temperature inside the school, he could see snow falling down outside the windows, shimmering brightly under the midday sun.

His pulse already thrummed as he imagined what his partner might have in mind.

Every day was a surprise.

The bathroom was empty except for Xeno. That wasn’t surprising. Tucked away at the back of the building, this one rarely saw traffic.

Stanley noted, not for the first time, that even the bathrooms at Stoneridge were posh. The porcelain had been cleaned like it was a crime for there to be even a speck of dust.

Xeno’s wave was casual, but Stanley caught the spark in his eyes.

He followed Xeno into a stall, the lock clicking behind him.

Xeno took off his tie and blazer as Stanley watched with hungry eyes and slid them into the bag hanging on the hook behind the door. Then, he rummaged for something, smiling when he found it.

When he pulled out the chain, Stanley’s eyes widened.

Clamps.

His cock twitched in understanding before Xeno even spoke.

“Can you make me feel good using my nipples, Stan?” Xeno asked. His voice was steady, but Stanley felt the light tremble of his hands as they wrapped around his.

Stanley smirked, ready to fulfil Xeno’s desires.

“I can.”

Xeno’s hands guided his to the top button of his white shirt. With expert familiarity, he began releasing the buttons one by one, revealing pale skin he had worshipped and marked in countless ways.

Smooth rope dug into Xeno’s skin, a reminder that beneath the surface, the model student was far from innocent.

While the shirt was about three quarters unbuttoned, Stanley brushed his fingers over today’s center of attention. Even through the thin fabric, the buds were already hardening, tight and eager. Xeno’s grip on his biceps tightened like a silent plea.

“It’s cute how sensitive you are here,” he teased, unbuttoning the rest of the shirt.

He tugged the shirt aside and bent, dragging his tongue over one tip. The taste of skin filled his mouth, the nub pebbling tighter under the wet stroke. His other hand traced along the rope until he found its twin, giving it a slow, deliberate pinch that pulled a low moan straight from Xeno’s chest.

Stanley didn’t so much as brush the tent in Xeno’s slacks. Xeno liked to be left simmering, his arousal drawn out until it bordered on torture.

He drew off the rosy hardened point, slick with his saliva. Xeno's chest rose and fell with every breath. Stanley blew a hot, deliberate breath over the glistening nub, and Xeno’s answering gasp made his own slacks grow tighter.

“Ah… ah—”

Stanley shifted and gave the other nipple attention, circling it with slow licks before closing his teeth. The sharp nip sent Xeno’s head slamming back against the stall door. Stanley managed to react in time, catching Xeno’s head with his palm.

He smirked against the hard bud before soothing it with another lap of his tongue.

It didn’t take long before both nipples were flushed, swollen, straining for more, like they might burst if he kept teasing.

“Please,” Xeno panted.

“I’ve never done this before,” Stanley warned, unlooping the nipple clamps held by a silver chain from his neck. “Tell me if I do something wrong.”

“Alright, Stan, but it’s really not rocket science.”

The clamps gleamed under the fluorescent light. They looked like small electrical clips. Made of metal, they were cold to the touch and glinting with a sense of danger in the light.

Stanley tested one on his own finger, the spring snapping down with a pinch.

Xeno’s pupils dilated as he watched Stanley play with the clamp. The clips were already tugging at Xeno’s mind before they reached his body.

Then Stanley brought the cold metal close, hovering over Xeno’s flushed nub. He brushed the cold metal against one, and the skin puckered tighter under the icy ghost of contact.

"Stan," Xeno called, desperate from anticipation.

Stanley paused deliberately, savoring the way Xeno’s arms had fallen down. His hands were spread against the stall door, using it for support, his breath dragging in ragged.

He pressed the clamp open and let metallic jaws close around the swollen nub.

Xeno gasped, sharp and needy, like he hadn’t expected it to feel that good.

Stanley’s lips curled into a grin.

Had he saved this experience just for them, for him?

He waited, searching Xeno’s face for any sign of distress. But all he found was glassy-eyed hunger.

“Feel okay?” he asked, voice low.

Xeno’s eyes flicked down to the clamp, the metal gleaming against his pale skin, then back up to him. “Feels amazing. Keep going.”

The second clamp snapped shut, and Xeno’s moan rolled out, unrestrained. His lashes fluttered. Now both nipples strained against steel jaws, a silver chain stretching between them, catching on every breath. His whole body quivered.

“You look so fucking hot like this,” Stanley murmured, stealing his mouth for a hungry kiss.

Suddenly, the sound of the bathroom door swinging open resounded throughout the washroom.

Stanley’s reflexes kicked in. He yanked Xeno away from the stall door, hauling him onto his lap as he dropped down on the toilet seat. Xeno straddled him, arms around his neck.

The clamps shifted with the sudden movement, tugging cruelly.

Xeno didn't make a sound, though his brows knitted with effort.

“Shit, where is it? I’m not freezing my ass off out there—need a smoke,” a voice grumbled just outside.

“Yeah, no kidding. Here.” A second voice.

“Oh hey, looks like someone’s taking a shit.”

Stanley’s hands were firm on Xeno’s back, keeping him in place.

Xeno’s hands twisted into Stanley’s shirt.

They couldn’t be caught. Not like this. There was no excuse, no way out.

It would be humiliating.

And yet, despite that, or because of it—Stanley felt it. Xeno was achingly hard against him. His own cock answered, pressed tight through their slacks. Xeno was rutting softly against him, every breath making the chain between Xeno’s nipples sway, every brush of their erections a new risk.

Stanley was concerned Xeno wouldn’t be able to hold back his moans, so he slid his shirt collar aside.

Obediently, Xeno clamped his lips around the revealed skin.

Stanley didn’t make a sound, even as he felt Xeno marking him.

“I’m sure he won’t mind. Hey, you do your business, we’ll do ours, alright?”

If he didn’t answer, they’d get suspicious. Stanley barked out, forcing himself to sound unaffected when he was anything but. “Sure. Whatever.”

The smell of tobacco permeated the washroom.

The two students outside started lamenting about how it sucked going to a boy’s school, and how they were looking forward to a party on the weekend where they might be able to get laid.

Xeno popped his mouth off Stanley’s neck, a dark hickey forming where he’d made contact. Before he could make a sound, Stanley’s hand was already between them, giving the chain a ruthless tug. Xeno buried himself right back into Stanley’s throat, his whole body shuddering as the flare of pain and pleasure coursed through him.

Xeno rocked down against Stanley, and the minute friction took them both to the edge, but not over.

Stanley bit Xeno’s shoulder hard, adding to the marks on his skin. His jaw clenched tight to trap the groan trying to claw out of his chest. He lapped at the spot after with his tongue, soothing.

After what felt like an eternity, the guys finally seemed to finish their smokes. As they left, one of them called, “Hey man, hope you feel better soon!”

The moment the door closed behind them, Stanley’s restraint snapped. His hands moved fast, dragging zippers down, freeing their cocks into the open air. Heat, pressure, slick. He guided Xeno’s trembling hand around them both, and the first squeeze nearly undid him. Every thrust ground them tighter, the friction maddening.

Xeno’s nipples were red and swollen, still caught in the clamps. Begging to be freed.

Stanley reached up, his hands carefully cradling both ridged handles.

A needy keen tore from Xeno’s throat.

It all happened at once. The bell that signaled the end of lunch rang out—sharp and echoing through the quiet bathroom. At that exact instant, Stanley squeezed.

The clamps snapped open.

Xeno cried out, his whole body jerking forward as a rush of blood surged back through the nerves. The pain was exquisite, a blinding flash that sent him over the edge. He shattered apart in Stanley’s arms, hand convulsing around their cocks as he came. Stanley followed on the surge of it, his own groan breaking free as heat spilled between them.

For a long second, the world stopped. There was nothing but the harsh breaths they shared, the fading echo of the bell, and the sound of their hearts pounding wildly in sync.

Then…

“We’re late for class!”

Notes:

They get interrupted pretty often haha it's a trend.

This chapter is dedicated to Xeno's nipples.

You know how I said this story has a smidge of plot with the porn? We are about to hit that plot next chapter.

Chapter 13

“I look forward to watching you win,” Xeno said. He was referring to the upcoming multi-day International High School Shooting Competition where Stanley was going to compete as a representative for Stonebridge.

“Thanks.”

The sky was already dark, and Xeno was walking with him back to his house. Lately, Stanley had practiced late every day after school for the upcoming competition. He’d been surprised the first time he found Xeno waiting for him after. Now, it had become a routine.

Xeno was bundled in a puffy jacket, his white scarf bright against the night. He carried himself with careless grace, looking like an angel in a snow globe. A small drift of snow crowned his pompadour, and Stanley brushed it away with a touch that lingered longer than it should have.

“Sorry I haven’t had as much time to hang out lately.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Xeno said, smiling. “I’m sure we’ll make up for it,” he said with a teasing wink. “I’m looking forward to that too.”

Together, they walked side by side. Snow crunched under their boots as they tracked a twin set of footprints behind them.

For a heartbeat, Stanley let himself believe they were a couple.

The urge to confess again and check if Xeno might feel the same way struck Stanley.

He hated that his heart felt like this despite himself.

A single glance from Xeno, the slightest hint of care and affection, made hope shoot through him, as deadly as a bullet.

Before he could say a word, Xeno stopped on the sidewalk. Stanley stopped beside him. He watched with curiosity as Xeno scooped up some snow with gloved hands, packing it into a ball. He held it out to Stanley, then pointed at a distant lamp post, illuminating the dark.

“Do you think you can hit that?”

“I can.” Stanley said, confidently. Before throwing, he added, “Do I get a kiss if I nail it?”

“How about if you do it with your eyes closed?” Xeno smirked.

Stanley stared at the lamp post, gauging distance, wind speed, angle. He wound back, closed his eyes, ready to throw.

Later, he’d remember the quiet—the hush of snow, the deserted street—that had made him reckless enough to ask for a kiss.

A black car had been crawling past, but it seemed like it would continue on its way.

Except it didn’t.

Something hard cracked against the back of Stanley’s skull. The world tilted. Xeno’s panicked voice rang in his ears as he fell.

His ears ringing, Stanley pushed himself off the snow-covered sidewalk.

He saw Xeno’s backpack and phone on the ground.

The black car, with its license plate covered in tape, was starting to move away.

“Shit,” he cursed.

They’d taken Xeno.

Adrenaline burned through the pain. Stanley lunged after the car.

He grabbed a nearby bike that happened to be unlocked and vaulted onto it, pedaling after the vehicle like his life depended on it.

Xeno’s just might.

 

“That fucking kid is chasing us on a bike,” Marco complained to the driver, Donny. The balaclava suffocated him, damp with his own breath.

The car jolted to a stop behind a sedan at the sign. In the mirror, the blond kid kept closing the gap.

“Move, move,” Donny growled, laying on the horn. When the car ahead finally rolled forward, he jammed his foot down on the gas pedal, passing it violently.

Relief surged as he saw the kid’s bike skidded on ice, sending him sprawling.

He glanced over at the one they had grabbed.

The Wingfield brat was slouched in the backseat, unconscious from chloroform.

Minutes later, Marco cursed. “GPS is lagging. We missed the turn. Need to cut right up here, then we can hit the highway.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. It’s that fucking kid again. How the hell—?”

The teen was in front of them, blocking the narrow road with the bike and his body. He looked like he was screaming for help, as loud as his lungs would let him.

Fortunately for the kidnappers, it didn’t look like there were any Samaritans incoming.

Donny’s foot stayed heavy on the gas, fury blotting out reason.

“What the fuck are you doing? STOP!” Marco screamed.

At the last minute, Donny slammed on the brakes. The car stopped centimeters away from Stanley.

They both opened the car doors, facing someone whose sense of fear seemed to be damaged.

Donny saw the phone in Stanley’s hand. He guessed he’d already dialed the police.

They were running out of time.

He took out a gun.

The kid shut up.

“Hey, hey,” Marco said, trying to calm him down. “I didn’t sign up to kill any teenagers in the middle of the city.”

“Well, he’s in the bloody way, and the police are probably coming, so what the hell else do you want me to do?”

“Take him. An extra hostage.”

 

Xeno stirred. Pain hammered behind his eyes, blurring his thoughts. The sight before him only deepened his disorientation.

“Stan?” he called, confused.

“I’m here,” he responded, leaning towards Xeno. He was stopped short by the rope that bound him to a bedpost. “Are you okay?”

Memories rushed back to him. The last thing Xeno remembered was being dragged into the car and seeing Stanley out cold on the ground.

Stanley looked a lot worse than he recalled. Cuts and bruises adorned his face.

“What did they do to you?”

“I came after them to save you… and wasn’t very successful.” Stanley gave Xeno a pained smile. “So, they kidnapped me too.”

“You idiot!” Xeno hissed. “They want ransom, that’s all. My father will pay. You didn’t need to risk your life!”

Stanley flinched at Xeno’s anger, shrinking in on himself.

Xeno took a deep breath, calming down the worry disturbing his ability to think straight.

Stop thinking about Stanley’s injuries. Focus.

He scanned their surroundings. They were in a room with no windows. Based on how cold it felt, the place did not have proper heating. Their hands were both tied behind each of their backs, the other end of the rope bound to two separate bedposts.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of the door opening.

A tall and lanky man with a balaclava covering his face entered. “Thought I heard you guys chatting. Now that you’re up, you need a piss? I can take you, one at a time. Don’t want you making a mess.”

Amateurs, Xeno assessed. They hadn’t been blindfolded or gagged, and the kidnapper wasn’t using a voice synthesizer. The ropework was amateur as well.

Still, he saw the gun holstered at the man’s hip.

There was no need to take unnecessary risks.

He memorized the corridor: the sour stench of rot, peeling wallpaper, bare boards that creaked underfoot. He noted what looked like an exit to the outside. He doubted they were anywhere close to civilization. There were no sounds of distant cars, no street noise. It looked completely dark outside.

“Hey, don’t do anything crazy alright?” The kidnapper warned. “We’ve already asked for the ransom. If you just sit tight and your pops pays, nobody needs to get hurt.”

Xeno forced wide-eyed terror onto his face, masking the fury burning beneath.

Because of these imbeciles, Stanley had already gotten hurt.

 

Xeno had genuinely believed they’d be safe so long as his father paid. Statistics indicated most kidnappings didn’t end in murder where the goal was ransom. Even more so if the money was delivered.

He wasn’t close with his father. The man was hardly ever home. But Wilfred Wingfield had more money than he knew what to do with, and at the end of the day, he wasn’t so heartless as to want his son dead.

Indeed, within a day, the payment was processed.

But one of the kidnappers hadn’t been satisfied with that.

But one kidnapper wasn’t satisfied. Downstairs, voices clashed, sharp and rising. Arguments spilling into shouts.

Xeno and Stanley traded looks, and Xeno began whispering the backup plan.

He was grateful that Stanley had come here after all.

Otherwise, he might have died alone—his last expression one of sheer exasperation at the lunacy of his captors.

 

“You greedy bastard! Why the hell did you ask for more?” Marco snapped, his voice rising. “We’ve got what we came for! Shouldn’t we let them go already?”

Donny slammed his glass down, liquid sloshing out. “That’s all you think he’s worth?  He paid too fast. No hesitation. That smug piece of shit thinks we’re small-time.”

“They’re just kids!” Marco snapped. “You got the money already, what the hell else do you want?”

“He’s looking down on us!” Donny roared. “Always has. Always fucking has! You remember—he fired us like we were dirt. Years of service, gone with a shrug!”

 “I remember, okay? I remember! But this won’t fix anything!”

Donny cut him off. “Yes, it will! He used us, threw us away, and now he’ll pay. Really pay.”

There was a pause. Then Marco asked, a little shakier, “And if he pays again?”

Donny chuckled, a dark rasp. “Then we’re richer. Take your cut, vanish. Pay your debt, start over. Hell, you could walk out right now.”

Marco’s voice dropped a bit, almost uncertain. “But will you…”

“No,” Donny said.

Firm. Flat. Final.

“Donny—”

“Shut up! I lost everything because of that bastard.” His eyes were those of a wild animal, not of a man who could be convinced to listen to reason. “Everything.”

Donny’s voice dropped, deadly calm.

“His kid ain’t leaving alive.”

 

Marco couldn’t quite meet their eyes when he came up to bring them some granola bars. This might just be their last meal.

His promise that they would be fine so long as the ransom was paid had turned out to be a lie.

He peeled the wrapper and passed the granola bar forward to Stanley’s lips. He was just a loyal friend who had been trying to rescue the Wingfield kid.

Wrong place. Wrong time.

Amber eyes flashed. Suddenly, Marco’s breath cut off. Rope bit into his throat. The Wingfield kid had slipped free and was behind him.

Instinct screamed: claw the rope, scream, breathe. Then—reach for his gun. Too late. Metal flashed in Stanley’s grip.

Stanley flicked the safety off with practiced ease, the muzzle steady on Marco’s shaking leg.

“If you don’t want to get shot, follow Xeno’s instructions.”

Marco went limp as they shoved a sheet into his mouth and bound him tight. His wide eyes begged the question: how the hell had they gotten free?

 

Xeno bound Marco tighter than the kidnappers had ever managed.

He turned to Stanley. Donny would come looking soon.

“Can you do it?” he whispered. The whole plan hinged on Stanley being willing to pull the trigger towards a human being. A lot to ask of anyone.

“I can.”

His eyes caught the light. Cold steel, unflinching.

The image seared into Xeno’s mind.

Notes:

And here's the smidge of plot!

Blame the kidnappers for interrupting sexytimes, not me! lol

Chapter 14

“I need some help up here!” Xeno called, mimicking Marco’s tone, keeping it low and muffled.

Footsteps creaked on the stairs. "What the hell's the problem now?"

Stanley held the Glock in both hands. Steady. 

It was just like a competition. All he had to do was hit the target.

Everything came down to aim, distance, breath. Control.

The door swung open. “Why the hell are the lights off?!” 

The light blinked on, revealing a tied-up Marco with wide eyes, staring at the corner.

Donny turned and saw a gun pointed at him.

“Hands up,” Stanley warned.

Donny’s hand twitched toward his gun—sure the boy couldn’t do it.

Stanley pulled the trigger.

His aim was shifted, enough to tear through a shoulder, not the heart.

A scream followed, raw and short. Donny's body jerked like it had been electrocuted. He fell to one knee, clutching his shoulder, blood seeping through his shirt. 

Stanley kicked the fallen gun away, barrel still trained on the kidnapper.

Xeno appeared, rope in hand, moving with calm precision. He bound him with exact motions. Precision borne from practice.

Only then did Stanley allow himself to relax, just a fraction.

His gaze met Xeno's. Dark eyes filled with pride and relief steadied him like an anchor in a storm.

 

They found Donny’s phone and called the police. The two kidnappers were left the room they'd been held in, while they waited downstairs for help to arrive.

“Forty to sixty minutes,” Xeno murmured. “He’ll live,” he shared as well. "The shot was clean, and I even wrapped the wound to stem the bleeding."

Stanley blinked, realizing belatedly that Xeno was saying that for his sake. 

"You're too kind, Stan."

Stanley felt like he was in a dream, Xeno’s words sounding like they were reaching him from a great distance. He stared at the Glock on the table in front of him. His ears buzzed.

He wanted to go home to his parents. He wanted to taste his mom’s delicious apple pie.

He’d shot a man.

Would have killed him too if it came to it.

There was nothing kind about that.

“Stan?” Xeno sounded worried.

Just as Stanley was about to piece together a response from his fragmented thoughts, he heard a sound.

A click at the door.

Relief jolted through him. The cops!

Already?

Impossible. The lock hadn’t been forced.

A third man in a balaclava. He froze when he saw the boys sitting at the living room table.

His gun came up fast.

Instinct took over. Time slowed. Stanley lunged, scooping the Glock as he slammed Xeno to the floor.

Two shots rang out across the hideout.

Pain exploded across Stanley’s ribs. Blood poured from him, hot and unrelenting.

At the same moment, the masked man screamed, his weapon falling uncontrolled to the floor, his arm limp at his side. He stumbled backward, hitting the wall.

 

Xeno didn’t give the man a chance to recover. He grabbed a heavy metal lamp from the nearby table and swung it hard, the base crashing against the side of the man’s head with a sickening crack. The kidnapper crumpled to the floor.

Xeno’s breaths came in bursts, his shoulders shaking. There was so much anger in him that he could have picked up the gun and shot him and ended the life that Stanley had spared.

There was no time.

Stanley needed him.

Later, he would curse his lapse in deduction. Marco and Donny were amateurs, and they no longer worked for his father, so how could they have known exactly when and where to kidnap him?

He hated how his hands were unsteady as he tore open Stanley’s shirt to inspect the wound. Stanley was cold and pale on the ground, eyes dazed. Incoherent noises bubbled from his lips.

Xeno didn’t have time for worry. For guilt. He needed to think.

The bullet hadn’t exited. It was still buried inside.

His mind raced with calculations.

It all led to one conclusion.

Trying to stop the bleeding wasn’t enough. The bullet was stuck close to an artery. He had to remove the bullet. Now.

Xeno wiped his bloody hands on his shirt.

He grit his teeth, pulling himself away from Stanley’s body to gather what he needed.

He found a hunting knife in a drawer and sterilized the blade using the open flame of a gas burner in the corner. He grabbed the first aid kit that was tucked away next to a half-empty bottle of bleach under the bathroom sink.

He pulled on cold rubber gloves.

The antiseptic pads in the kit were barely enough to wipe down his fingers. He needed something strong—and more of it. He grabbed the vodka bottle off the shelf, unscrewed the cap, and poured it straight over the blade and his hands. He dabbed a bit on Stanley's wound.

Stanley groaned, barely conscious, his head lolling to the side.

“I know it hurts. Please just hold on,” Xeno whispered, wishing Stanley could be unconscious for this next part, but fearful that if he were to fade now, he might never wake up.

He used his belt to tie off just above the wound site, slowing the blood flow. Then, with trembling precision, he made the first incision with the tip of the knife.

Stanley twitched violently, but he was too weak to even scream.

Xeno’s breathing was shallow, focused. He probed for the bullet. His hands moved with surgical control, guided by anatomy textbooks he’d memorized.

There was a large difference between reading about it actually digging around inside the flesh of someone you cared about.

Stanley’s life was in his hands.

Where the hell was that bullet?

He found it.

The metal was lodged near a rib, dangerously close to puncturing a lung. With meticulous care, he gripped it with a tweezer and slowly drew it out.

Blood welled up again, but he immediately packed the wound with a clean undershirt he’d torn into strips.

“Stay with me,” Xeno repeated over and over, brushing damp hair off Stanley’s forehead.

He only realized he was crying when he saw the tears hit Stanley’s forehead.

It had been a long time since he'd cried like this. Uncontrolled body-shaking sobs that wouldn't stop. Overwhelmed in a way that he hated.

It had been a long time since he'd lost...

No.

“You’re going to make it.”

He needed the words to be true.

Notes:

Heads up, my posting schedule may jiggle a bit from usual due to some RL stuff going on (nothing bad). I'll try to post a little early when possible vs. a little late.

Next chapter's a longer one.

Chapter 15

Even as Stanley was wheeled out from the emergency room and the doctors declared that he would be okay, Xeno continued to shake.

Before the third kidnapper had arrived, he’d been spellbound by the cold gleam in Stanley’s eyes as he’d held the gun firm. His body had tensed just thinking about the level of violence Stanley was capable of inflicting. He wanted Stanley to hurt him. Break him.

And then there had been something worse. A pulse of desire watching Stanley inflict violence on someone else… and knowing it was for him. A shiver of exhilaration had run up Xeno’s spine, equal parts shame and desire.

He shoved those thoughts down, clenched his fists, tried to breathe.

More disturbing was the memory of everything going to hell. Stanley’s warm blood soaking into his gloved hands. Crimson had leaked out of Stanley like he was a ruptured water balloon. In that moment, Xeno faced it: the possibility that Stanley might die. Because he’d chosen Xeno’s life over his own. The filthy masochist who had led him astray. The one who’d only moments before stupidly let his guard down, distracted by how flawlessly Stanley had executed his plan. Like the perfect weapon.

But he was only human in the end.

He wasn’t unbreakable.

He wasn’t a tool.

Stanley deserved somebody better.

He deserved someone who didn’t twist his feelings and exploit his loyalty to use him for their own perversion.

Xeno’s eyes hardened.

He had been too selfish.

Now, he was finally ready to let go.

 

The morphine was a blessing. When it started to fade and the pain began to rear its ugly head, Stanley would groan pathetically, reaching with desperate fingers for the button to call the nurse.

He was in and out of consciousness. His body felt like it belonged to someone else.

Sometimes he heard voices.

Medical professionals. His family. Police.

He couldn’t respond.

They said that it was okay, that he should focus on resting.

The bullet hadn’t hit the heart or spine.

His friend’s immediate care had saved his life.

Relief crashed over him. Xeno wasn’t hurt. Thank God.

He remembered waking up and seeing Xeno through bleary eyes. His usually calm and collected expression was scrunched up in distress. A sick, giddy joy curled in his chest at the sight, knowing that Xeno could look so concerned for him.

A few days later, Stanley’s mind and body were recovering well.

He was itching to be released, instead of lying in bed all day, smelling disinfectant and listening to the buzz of medical equipment.

Xeno slide into the seat next to him. He was dressed in their school uniform, his eyes downcast. He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words, which was rare for someone as eloquent as him.

Stanley wondered what Xeno would say. Maybe he would thank him. Maybe he would compliment him for his accurate shots. Maybe he would scold him for worrying him.

He cracked a smile. “Hey,” he said, his voice sounding awfully foreign to his own ears. “I owe you my life, doc.”

He could imagine Xeno's retort: “I’m not a doctor yet, but I will be one. Not that kind, though.”

Except Xeno didn’t say that.

“I think we should stop.” Xeno sounded mechanical, emotionless. There was a flicker of something Stanley didn’t recognize in his eyes.

“Stop what?”

“Being partners.”

Stanley frowned, shifting to get a better look at Xeno. He flinched from the pull on his wound. “What are you saying? The doctors said I’m going to recover just fine. I can still—”

Xeno shook his head. “It’s not about whether you’re physically able. I’ve gotten tired. You’re not… what I need.” His expression was as cold as ice, face a blank mask as he spoke. It was like they were back to being strangers again. “I’m not what you need either. I don’t love you. You should find somebody else. Someone… normal.”

The words almost landed like another bullet, but Stanley was exceedingly observant. Especially when in came to Xeno.

The way Xeno said the words... it was too calm, too perfect, like a script he’d memorized and hated.

Xeno stood up to leave.

He stopped at the unexpected sound that left Stanley’s lips.

Stanley had barked out a laugh. Then another. And then he couldn’t stop. Hysterical, breathless, shaking, his wound burning like fire—yet he was grinning, deliriously happy, as if he had just received some shockingly good news.

“Did they give the wrong dosage?” Xeno wondered out loud. He reached for the drip by Stanley’s side, brows furrowed as he inspected it, concerned.

Stanley reached forward, his fingers wrapping around Xeno’s silk tie.

He tugged.

He was so weak that Xeno could have easily pulled away.

But he didn’t.

“Liar,” Stanley rasped, silk burning against his fist as he yanked the tie. Their mouths crashed together like two magnets, their attraction impossible to fight. He gave Xeno’s bottom lip a bite, hard enough to draw a gasp. Xeno gave into the kiss at first, but then seemed to regain his sanity, pulling away. When they parted, both of them were a little out of breath.

“Wh-what?” Xeno breathed, flustered. “What’s going on? Are you high right now?”

“Never felt better. What the hell is normal, Xeno? If you’re not normal, then I don’t want to be either.” Stanley tilted his mouth into a knowing curve, “I can give you what you need better than anyone else. We both know it. You can give me what I need too. Or you wouldn’t have looked like you wanted to cry while telling me I should find somebody else.”

Joy surged through him, dizzying, brighter than morphine. He knew how to read Xeno's intent, his desires, like the back of his hand.

When Xeno had said, “I don’t love you”, he had all but confessed the opposite.

He loved Stanley so much, he was willing to give up on the pain and humiliation he could inflict.

“You’re right.” Stanley said, Xeno’s tie slipping from his grasp. “Let’s stop being partners.”

Even though it was Xeno’s suggestion, the white-haired teen looked like he was in pain, and not the kind he enjoyed.

Stanley took a deep breath, his nerves somehow buzzing more than when he’d faced down the barrel of a gun. Literally.

“Hey Xeno, I really like you. Will you go out with me?”

The words had been buried inside him all this time.

It just took almost dying to realize he couldn't wait any longer.

He held out his hand.

Xeno didn’t take it at first.

“I’m a bad influence.” Xeno looked like he was conflicted. “I’m going to mess you up.”

“You already have. And I wouldn’t change a damn thing. I like all of you, Xeno. Especially the parts you don’t show anyone but me.” Stanley’s heart thundered in his chest as Xeno’s hand slid into his outstretched palm. Heat, solid and real, connecting them.

He’d wanted this for so long. To be more with this brilliant soul who had stolen his heart.

He could drown in it forever, the way Xeno was looking at him in wonder, as he pulled Xeno's hand up to his lips and gave it a soft kiss between the knuckles.

 

Stanley checked the results of the shooting competition on his laptop, feeling a bit melancholy at the lost opportunity. It didn’t last long however, as he remembered that Xeno had agreed to go out with him. A silly, lovestruck grin bloomed across his face, not for the first or last time.

He’d win the competition next year for sure. Plus, Xeno had promised he’d be there in person to cheer him on.

He heard the doorknob turning and looked up. He wasn't expecting someone.

Three men in suits entered the hospital room.

Stanley immediately recognized one of them.

He wore a sharply cut three-piece ivory suit with a red shirt underneath. In his hand was an intricate wooden cane with a falcon carved at the top. His beard was precisely trimmed and he had a head of silver hair. If Stanley squinted a little, he could see an uncanny resemblance to Xeno.

He was the man in the picture at the top of the grand wooden staircase at Xeno’s house.

“Stanley Snyder,” the man greeted, walking up to his bedside. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Wilfred Wingfield, Xeno’s father.”

Stanley and Xeno had been partners for over half a year. He’d visited the Wingfield mansion multiple times a week. Yet until this moment, Stanley had never met the famed Mr. Wingfield in person.

Eccentric inventor. Business mogul. Complete workaholic.

“Hi Mr. Wingfield,” he greeted, not quite sure what else to say. He wanted to make a good impression, but a part of him also felt like he shouldn’t be too friendly. Xeno didn’t seem too fond of his father.

“I came to thank you in person for saving my son’s life.”

Stanley blinked, surprised. Xeno’s father was different than how he’d imagined.

He hadn’t expected someone so busy to take time out of his day specifically to thank him, especially not when he’d already paid for the VIP hospital room and covered all the bills.

“I’m here for something else, as well. I have a request for you,” Mr. Wingfield continued, “and you will be very well compensated if you grant it.”

For a moment, Stanley was terrified that he knew. Perhaps the staff had realized and reported what Stanley had been doing to his son, albeit at Xeno’s request. Maybe he would ask that Stanley transfer. Never see Xeno again. Stanley felt a nervous lump in his throat.

“I’d be grateful if you could continue to stay by his side and protect him. I want to pay for you to officially attend bodyguard training.”

Stanley’s eyes widened. He forced himself to close his mouth, which had been gaping open in shock, as one of the men in black handed over a training program pamphlet.

“You may be wondering why I’m asking this of you, a high school student. Why I didn’t already have multiple bodyguards for my son.”

Stanley had to admit, he had wondered. This incident had made him realize how many people might wish to hurt Xeno because of his father. He’d thought maybe there weren’t any bodyguards because his father simply didn’t care enough.

“We made a deal six years ago. He promised to finish high school with others his age, to fulfil his mother’s dying wish.”

Stanley froze.

Xeno’s mother. She was… gone.

It hit him like a punch to the stomach. He hadn’t realized. He’d assumed she was busy with work, or that she and Xeno’s father were divorced and living separately.

He’d never asked, because Xeno always tried to avoid the topic.

Where he'd grunted a few unamused remarks about his father, the topic of his mother had never come up.

Stanley hadn’t wanted to overstep boundaries, unsure if he had the right to ask.

“Dying wish,” Stanley repeated. The words felt wrong in his mouth.

Mr. Wingfield eyes were dark. A touch familiar. “Yes. In return, I promised I’d respect his privacy and autonomy.” He frowned, the lines on his face showing he did in fact care about Xeno. “It’s difficult, being the father to such a stubborn young man.”

It was a lot to take in.

Stanley wasn’t sure what to say. A strange mix of shock and sorrow kept him silent.

Mr. Wingfield seemed to misinterpret this as him needing more incentive. “If you choose to do this, I will fund any education you choose to undertake in the future. Help take the burden off your parents.”

Stanley considered the deal. He would never let any harm come to Xeno if he could help it, regardless.

“Can you do it?” Mr. Wingfield asked.

Slowly and carefully, Stanley nodded. “But I won’t keep it a secret from Xeno and I won’t agree if he doesn’t want me to.”

“He won’t like that I suggested it,” Mr. Wingfield warned. “We’ve not been on talking terms for some time now.”

Stanley didn’t back down.

Mr. Wingfield didn’t push further, simply told Stanley to report his ultimate decision to the staff.

 

“Of course you should do it!” Xeno exclaimed, confused at what had been running through Stanley’s head. “Why didn’t you just say yes?”

“I thought you might be upset. Maybe feel like I was going behind your back making a deal with your father?” Stanley’s words ended in a question, like he wasn’t sure if he had been overthinking.

“I must have given you the incorrect impression somehow. My father and I have difficulty seeing eye-to-eye on many issues… I’d already have my PhD now if not for him, but… he’s not a bad man.”

Xeno didn’t say it, but meeting Stanley had made him realize there genuinely were things he would have missed if he’d skipped on ahead to university.

“I’m more than alright with you taking the deal,” Xeno said, threading his fingers through Stanley’s, looking up at him with a coy grin, “so long as you don’t shield me from the good kind of pain.”

Stanley leaned in for a soft kiss on Xeno's lips.

“Xeno…” Stanley’s voice carried hesitation.

Xeno tilted his head, confused at Stanley’s shift in tone.

“There was something else he told me. About your mother... We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Stanley said gently, “but I’m here if you do.”

Xeno’s chest tightened.

Stanley had always been kind. He’d never pushed. Even now, he was still leaving it up to Xeno.

He couldn’t find the words to talk about her. Had never been able to since six years ago.

“I’m sorry,” Stanley said. “I’d really like to give you hug, but only if you don’t mind.”

Xeno didn’t answer. Instead, he gestured for Stanley to shift over on the bed. He slipped out of his Oxfords and slid under the still-warm sheets.

It was still too dangerous, the loss too sharp. Maybe it would always be. It was something overwhelming, that he couldn’t change or rationalize with equations and experiments. Something he had to bury deep inside where it couldn’t tear him apart.

And yet, with Stanley’s arms wrapped around him in silent understanding, Xeno felt, for the first time, that it was possible for the immense grief to ease, if just a fraction.

 

Stanley was over the moon when he was finally released from the hospital. The doctors had said thanks to Xeno’s quick actions, he’d make a full recovery. That didn’t stop his parents from worrying over him though, telling him he shouldn’t push himself with too much exercise.

His mom made his favorite, burritos, to celebrate his return.  Suddenly, Stanley really wanted to find out what Xeno’s favorite food was and cook it for him someday.

Over dinner, he couldn’t help but ask, “Hey… you guys aren’t mad at Xeno or anything for this, are you?”

“Oh, Heavens no!” His mom’s answer was immediate. “It’s not his fault. Besides, that boy saved your life. I’m sure he wouldn’t ever put you in danger if he could help it.”

“You’re the one who recklessly chased after those kidnappers,” His dad added, arms crossed.

Stanley didn’t flinch. He'd do it all over again, any day.

His dad’s expression morphed into a reluctant smile, as he patted Stanley’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, son. It was brave, what you did.”

Stanley understood what Xeno felt about Mr. Wingfield in a way.

His own father was like that too.

They didn’t see eye-to-eye on many things, but he wasn’t a bad guy.

Notes:

The previous two chaps were because I really wanted to write this one. Hope you enjoy :D

Also this line "And then there had been something worse. A pulse of desire watching Stanley inflict violence on someone else… and knowing it was for him." made me thinking of writing a different story one day where Xeno is a sadist and Stanley does bad things to other people because he likes watching... Not in this story lol. Stan's too nice in this one.

Chapter 16

“A note sounds higher not because the waves move faster, but because they bunch together more tightly. Pitch is really just how often the air nudges your eardrum per second.”

Stanley was trying unsuccessfully to focus on his kind boyfriend’s tutoring. Ever since he’d gotten out of the hospital, Xeno had invited him over after school every day to catch him up on what he’d missed.

His teeth grinded unconsciously down on the end of the pen he held in his hand.

He could remember viscerally how the pitch of Xeno’s voice changed when they…

He nodded at mesmerizing dark eyes that watched him for confirmation of understanding. Then, he quickly looked back at the equations in front of them, unable to hold that gaze for long. Xeno was so close, their arms were almost brushing. Stanley could smell the scent of lavender that had started to cause something of a Pavlovian response in him.

They hadn’t done anything beyond holding hands and the occasional soft kiss since their new relationship status.

That was what he wanted to do now. His hands fidgeted with the urge to hold. He wanted to kiss Xeno until he couldn’t think straight anymore. Until physics explanations gave way to broken moans and begging.

Still, he held himself back, shifting in his seat.

Since his confession, he kept waiting for Xeno to initiate something more or give him a signal that he could, but it never came.

It was starting to make him nervous and uncertain.

“Stan? You seem distracted. Am I boring you?” Xeno peered at him, and only then did Stanley realize he had been lost in thought.

He felt heat rush to his cheeks, ears burning crimson. He looked down at the page, ashamed that he hadn’t been paying attention.

“Sorry… I know you’re trying hard to help me catch up.” He gulped, setting down the chewed-up pen. He caught Xeno’s gaze. “I just need to know… What’s wrong? I feel like you were much more open and honest with me before. Maybe… we should have stayed as partners, after all.”

The brief pause before Xeno answered felt like it stretched on forever. Stanley held his breath, his lips pressed flat in worry.

It was hard to know what was going on in that genius mind, but when Xeno finally spoke, his answer was firm. “No.” His fingers crossed like when he was working through a complex calculation. “I want this.  The parameters of our relationship have simply changed, and I was still trying to calibrate the appropriate… protocols. I’ve never been someone’s boyfriend before.” A blush touched his cheeks. “It’s… unlike me to care so much about whether someone continues to like me. I didn’t want to make a mistake.”

Stanley found himself seeing a side of Xeno that was neither cold genius nor a masochist tempting him into sin. This side of Xeno a little shy, a little hesitant, and a lot adorable.

For a moment he just stayed still, close enough to feel the faint tremor of Xeno’s breath. The air between them was tight, humming with all the things they hadn’t said.

“I’ve never dated anyone before either,” Stanley said softly. “We can figure it out together.” His gaze lingered on the curve of Xeno’s mouth, the way it parted as though he was waiting for something more.

He understood now that beneath Xeno’s hesitation, desire burned as strong as ever.

“All I know right now,” Stanley whispered, leaning in until his lips ghosted against Xeno’s, “is that you look like an angel.” His pulse spiked, his eyes darkening. “And it makes me want to ruin you.”

Warmth filled Stanley’s heart as Xeno leaned into him, lips pressing tentatively, then with growing certainty. They tasted each other, and warmth melted into heat. Lips became no longer enough. There was tongue and teeth as the kisses grew rougher. Each messy kiss teased, coaxed, and burned all at once.

Stanley’s fingers lingered on the hem of Xeno’s shirt, teasing it upward, brushing the soft skin of his stomach before pulling back. Xeno’s breath hitched at the touch, and Stanley grinned at the reaction. He unbuttoned Xeno’s shirt like he was unwrapping his favourite present. Once it was revealed, it was impossible for him to resist licking along the red lines that marked the base of Xeno’s neck. Stanley could taste the faint salt of Xeno’s skin and the heat pooling beneath it.

“Stan,” Xeno gasped.

And there, that was the pitch Stanley had missed.

Xeno didn’t keep his hands idle either, tugging at Stanley’s shirt. Receiving the message, Stanley wasted no time in granting Xeno’s wish. He loosened the top two buttons of his shirt, then pulled the whole thing over his head.

Xeno’s eyes darkened with desire as he gazed at Stanley’s chest, the hard lines of his muscles.

That desire gave Stanley confidence to keep going.

It was impossible to put into words. They had done so much together already, but every touch, every brush of skin now, felt electric and unfamiliar in the best possible way.

Stanley couldn’t remember exactly how they ended up on Xeno’s bed. All he knew was the press of their hips through their pants was driving him insane, each grind leaving him aching for more. He could feel the warmth of Xeno’s body under his hands, the subtle tremor of his thighs as desire pooled between them.

“Off,” Xeno ordered with a little pout in his voice, tugging at Stanley’s pants like he had a personal vendetta against them.

More than happy to oblige, Stanley shrugged off his pants and underwear. Socks too, for good measure. His eyes snapped up, mesmerized by the sight of Xeno slipping out of his slacks, his movement deliberate and sensual.

His erection throbbed as he heard the snap of Xeno’s garters and watched smooth, black stockings roll down. Milky thighs were revealed first, then taut calves and finally, slender, arching feet.

Unable to resist any longer, Stanley leaned in for another taste. Starting at the top of Xeno’s foot, he left a trail of kisses upward, followed by his warm hands. He relished the noises that slipped from Xeno and the soft tremble in his legs.

He ghosted a kiss on the tip of Xeno’s length, straining against its black lace restraint.

Looping his fingers under the bands at Xeno’s waist, Stanley said, “Off.”

Xeno lifted his hips, and Stanley slid the last piece of clothing off Xeno.

He paused in their heated moment, coming to a sudden realization.

This was the first time they had ever been completely naked in front of each other.

For months, they had explored each other bodies in so many ways, but there had always been a barrier. Tonight, that barrier was gone. It made whatever this was between them feel softer, sweeter, more dangerously intimate.

Stanley suddenly thought of another kind of “first time” and felt heat rush to his cheeks.

“Xeno, can I ask you something?”

Xeno looked at him, a little dazed from arousal, and nodded.

“Are you uncomfortable with… penetration?”

Stanley was going to offer to bottom, if Xeno didn’t want to, but he was interrupted by Xeno’s chuckle.

“What’s funny?”

“Oh, Stan. I may be a virgin, but I’d never turn away such delightful pain.” Xeno’s eyes sparkled, his tone teasing. “I could show you all the toys I’ve had inside me before, but I think you’d be alarmed.”

Vivid images flashed in Stanley’s imagination. He was fairly certain he was going to have many a good dream about Xeno’s statement just now. “But then, why haven’t we—”

Xeno sat up, tucking his legs into his chest. “I was concerned that you might regret losing your virginity in our partnership rather than a real relationship.”

Stanley felt like his heart had been shot with an arrow.

He knew it.

All this time, Xeno had cared for him.

He tackled Xeno in a naked hug, enjoying the press of their exposed bodies against each other, leaning to whisper in his boyfriend’s ear, “How about you show me one of your toys?”

Xeno looked absolutely delighted at that suggestion.

He told Stanley to stay on the bed, and hopped over to his desk, where he proceeded to rifle through his drawer. Stanley palmed at his erection as he saw Xeno wiggling his ass, adorably conflicted.

“… and this one can thrust and vibrate at the same time. It can swivel and lock into the optimal position using a suction cup. I replaced the DC motor with a Voice Coil Actuator, which moves a mass along a single axis using electromagnetic force. The benefits of that are…”

Stanley smiled, eyes crinkling. Of course, Xeno took his toys very seriously. He made modifications to them like other people customized their cars. “Okay, got it. That’s enough. Just pick the one on the left.”

“Ooooh, that’s an elegant choice, Stan!”

Xeno handed over the tool made of sleek, black silicone. It felt cool and solid in Stanley’s grip. He inspected it and he couldn’t help but wonder aloud, a little concerned. “You’re sure this fits?”

“Certainly! In terms of girth, it’s around average in my collection. I believe the largest is Model S-5, which is meant to simulate fisting.”

Stanley choked on his own spit upon hearing that statement.

Xeno had also brought a bottle of lube to bed. He was about to squeeze some lube on his fingers, but he saw Stanley staring. “Would you like to help?”

Stanley nodded eagerly, feeling like his brain was melting as he took over, cold gel coating his fingers. His hands couldn’t help but tighten around Xeno’s ass, remembering making him come from spanking alone.

He met Xeno’s eyes for confirmation and at Xeno’s encouraging nod, pressed the first finger into that tight, resisting heat.

“Ah… Stan…” Xeno’s voice trembled. He arched, pressing into Stanley. The sound made Stanley’s entire body burn. He could feel Xeno’s hips twitch involuntarily, a soft whine breaking past parted lips.

Xeno, alone, driving toys into himself, thinking of him.

Xeno, wanting him, not just the pain, not just the humiliation, but more.

The thought shredded his control. Stanley’s orgasm tore through him before he had time to even process it. It was wild and uncontrolled, his cum splashing onto Xeno’s bedsheets without warning. He froze for a heartbeat, mortified. They hadn’t even gotten that far yet! “Oh… fuck, I—”

Xeno’s hands gripped his wrist, steadying him. “Don’t stop… Please.”

The words broke Stanley out of his embarrassed panic.

Xeno wasn’t annoyed or disappointed. He was turned on. He wanted more.

Stanley took a deep breath to recover and then leaned in to keep going.

Stanley exhaled hard, grounding himself, then pushed his finger deeper, slow and deliberate. He held Xeno’s hip steady with his free hand, testing the way he opened under him. When he pulled back halfway and thrust in again, Xeno moaned low, rocking into the motion like he couldn’t help himself.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Stanley muttered, emboldened by the slick heat gripping him. He pressed in a second finger, watching Xeno’s eyes glaze over at the stretch, his lips parting in helpless pleasure.

He wrapped his other hand around Xeno’s leaking cock, stroking firmly. Xeno spread wider under him, shameless, fingers clawing the bedsheets like he’d been fantasizing about this for months.

Xeno whined when Stanley stopped stroking him and pulled his fingers out.

“One sec,” Stanley muttered, scowling at the toy. Why the hell were there three dials and five unlabelled buttons? He turned it over in his hand—

—and froze as Xeno snatched it, only to toss it off the side of the bed.

“Hey, I think I got it!” His protest cut off when Xeno wrapped a lube-slicked hand around his cock, pumping once, twice, agonizingly slow. Heat bled through every stroke, the pressure deliberate and teasing.

“This one comes with some nice features too.” Xeno teased, a grin tugging at his lips. “I think I’ve decided I want it instead.”

Stanley’s breath caught. His cock jerked in Xeno’s grip despite having just cum earlier, desire flooding low and hard.

He shoved forward, pressing into Xeno, swallowing his gasp as slick heat gripped him.

Inch by inch, he claimed more, until his lungs were burning.

It felt amazing.

Then he moved, wrapping his arms under Xeno’s knees and folding him open.

He grabbed Xeno’s wrists and slammed them into the sheets beside his head, pinning him down.

Xeno moaned at the restraint, straining futilely against Stanley’s hold. When it didn’t budge, his cock twitched as he moaned and opened his legs wider, desperate to take more.

Xeno hadn’t asked for Stanley to be rough, because he was being considerate of Stanley’s first time.

But it was his first time too, and Stanley wanted Xeno to never forget it.

There was no soft kisses or gentle acclimation. Stanley knew that wasn’t what Xeno craved.

“Ah! More… more, Stan! I need it… right there!”

Stanley bared his teeth in a grin. Once he found the spot that made Xeno’s body shake, he zeroed in on it like a marksman, ruthless, unrelenting.

Xeno’s moans broke down into wrecked, incoherent noises, drool spilling from the corner of his mouth. His tongue lolled out, his body surrendering completely as pleasure wrung him raw.

Stanley gripped Xeno’s wrists hard enough to bruise, but not to break, as his hips pistoned mercilessly. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

Despite the struggle to form words under such intense pleasure, Xeno obeyed. He felt like he would die if Stanley stopped now. “Yes! Yes please, Stan, fuck. I can’t— Need you deeper, want you to ruin me, please. I’m so close. I’m so close! Don’t stop. Please don’t stop!”

“You’re going to come on my cock,” Stanley ordered, voice harsh in his ear. His grip tightened. He could feel Xeno getting close to the edge. “Not from my hand, not from toys. From me. Come. Now.”

Xeno shattered, spilling between them with a broken sob, body clenching down around him as his lashes fluttered.

Before Stanley could pull out, Xeno begged again. “Please, Stan—keeping going. I want it so bad, I want to feel you dripping out of me. Fill me up, please—”

“Fuck,” Stanley groaned, granting Xeno what he wanted.

He held Xeno down, driving into his oversensitive body while he whimpered and writhed.

Xeno moaned, his spent cock smearing across his stomach, his body wrecked and pliant as it continued to be used.

Moments later, Stanley came. Warmth surged through him, his body trembling as he emptied himself inside Xeno, their moans mingling in the heat of the moment.

He pulled out, his cock giving one last spasm at the sight of his cum leaking out from between Xeno’s legs.

He collapsed onto the bed next to Xeno, hugging his boyfriend to his chest. For a long time, the only sound in the room was their ragged breaths and their hearts beating in sync.

 

“Stan?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you didn’t let me push you away.”

“You really thought I’d let you go that easily? I even survived getting shot for you.”

Notes:

Hope you enjoy the payoff after the 3 chaps of plot LOL

Also, happy birthday to Stanley Snyder XD I do think this makes for quite the... elegant present haha

Chapter 17

Stanley didn’t expect Xeno to do anything for the holiday. He didn’t bring a box of chocolate to gift, because Valentine’s Day seemed like the kind of thing Xeno would dismiss as “a ritualized display of attachment, propped up by conditioning and consumerism” if he thought of it at all.

He chuckled, picturing Xeno looking adorably clever as he said that.

That’s why his jaw dropped when Xeno took a box out of his bag and gave it to him in the chemistry lab after school.

“I thought you’d be happier. You look like you suspect I poisoned it,” Xeno said, with a raised eyebrow.

“No, it’s not that,” Stanley said, flustered. “I just didn’t expect…” He wondered if it was too late for him to pretend to get a stomach-ache so he could run out and get Xeno something as well.

Xeno peered at him with fathomless dark eyes. “My research indicated this is something that romantic partners do. If the gesture isn’t appreciated, I’ll note it for future reference.”

Stanley shook his head furiously. “I appreciate it!” He unwrapped the box. He was doubly surprised to find that what was inside wasn’t store bought. It was clearly custom made, with lots of interesting shapes, like detailed replicas of planets, and… “Is that a chocolate replica of a Glock?”

“Yes, macadamia-hazelnut ganache, in fact. I had some help from the staff, but it wasn’t too complicated. Cooking is just a form of chemistry after all.” Xeno smiled, confident in his domain.

“I love it, Xeno, really.” Stanley admired each one of the chocolates, feeling warmth spread across his chest.

This must have been why Xeno hadn’t wanted to hang out with him the day before. He’d been taking the time to prepare this in secret.

The beautiful chocolates looked far too precious to eat. Stanley wondered if he took them home if he might be able to keep them preserved forever.

Xeno reached to grab a rocket-shaped chocolate, bringing it up to Stanley’s lips to feed him.

It took Herculean effort to resist. “B-but it looks too good to eat…”

Xeno stared at Stanley’s lips like he was solving a problem. “Can I eat one?”

“Of course! You made them.”

Stanley watched as Xeno set it deliberately on the center of his tongue, his movements precise, teasing. Then, without biting down, he leaned forward. Stanley’s pulse quickened, knowing what was coming.

Their mouths met, the kiss sweet and intoxicating; the faint trace of liqueur on Xeno’s lips was nothing compared to the dizzying taste of him, of his mind, his breath, his everything.

 

Xeno was giving a long-winded explanation in Physics class. He pointed out that if specific conditions were met, the statement the teacher had just said was untrue. If anyone noticed that his voice was pitched higher than usual and his hands were gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles were white, they probably just thought he was very passionate about the topic.

Indeed, he was, but there was another variable that was a larger contributor to his physiological symptoms.

“Thank you for that very detailed explanation, Mr. Wingfield. Please have a seat.”

Stanley smirked as he watched Xeno sit down, watching the genius in front of him.

Just before his ass touched the seat, he turned the metal dial on the device hidden in his desk one notch higher.

Xeno’s shoulders tense and his body shuddered.

Xeno was so good at controlling himself, holding together the mask of a perfect, elegant student with an iron will. Stanley couldn’t help but want to push his buttons, or in this case, turn the dial.

“You’re doing so well,” Stanley whispered. They were halfway through the school day. “Are you really that scared of them finding out? That you’re sitting here, getting off with your ass full in front your classmates and teachers, while they have no idea?”

Xeno bit his lower lip to keep silent. The slight red tint on his cheeks betrayed his arousal.

That morning, Xeno had sent him a photo before school. That was how Stanley knew. Underneath the prim black slacks of his school uniform, there was a vibrator buried deep inside him, a sleek leather cock ring cinched tight.

Xeno looked at Stanley with eyes that were begging.

Begging him not to stop. To torture him more.

“Better hold on,” Stanley said with a Cheshire grin. “We’re only halfway through the day.”

The rest of the day was delightful for Stanley and delightfully torturous for Xeno.

After school, they settled in Xeno’s chauffeur-driven car. The windows were tinted, and the back of the car was partitioned from the front for privacy.

“How much faith do you have that he can’t see or hear us?” Stanley checked.

Xeno answered him by letting out a breathy moan that would certainly have the chauffeur hitting the brakes in alarm if he could hear. “It’s never been quite this good. Even when I wrote an algorithm to randomize the pace, it could never capture perfectly—ah—exactly when it was the least convenient, like you do.” Xeno’s knees were pressed tightly together, thighs trembling as tried to keep himself from breaking.

Stanley chuckled at the compliment. “Well, now that we’ve got some privacy, I’ve been wondering all day what this final notch that says ludicrous mode does.”

Xeno sucked in a breath.

Stanley gave him three seconds to say no, and when he didn’t, he turned the dial to the end.

Xeno jolted like he’d been electrocuted, a strangled sound escaping his throat, his head snapping back against the leather headrest. He might have collapsed if not for the seatbelt securing him. His body strained against the restraint, tense, his fingers clawing at the seat beneath him.

It was clear that the ludicrous mode was a genuine engineering marvel, because it made Xeno feel so good, he could not even find the words to explain exactly how marvelous it was.

Xeno’s mask vanished, and all that remained was naked, aching need. A sight for Stanley alone.

Stanley saw the shimmer of tears pooling at the edge of Xeno’s eyes and reached out to catch it with his thumb. Slow and deliberate, he drew it into his mouth, licking it off with a slow, possessive attention that indicated he’d very much like to taste something else.

By the time they rolled up to the Wingfield estate, Stanley had long turned the dial back down. He lent Xeno his shoulder, helping to support him as they walked up to Xeno’s room, because his legs were a little unstable.

When they got there and Stanley locked the door behind him, he said, “You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

Xeno looked like he would faint if his release was delayed a second longer, yet he couldn’t help but ask, “What did you have in mind?”

“Lie down on the bed. Wouldn’t want you to fall down and hurt your pretty head from what I’m about to do.”

Xeno gave him a raised eyebrow at that.

Off went Xeno’s pants. With practiced ease, Stanley unclipped the garter straps and peeled away the lace panties, revealing him completely.

Xeno’s cock throbbed with delicious torment. Leather straps with silver buttons pressed into the base and cradled his balls. Every vein stood out across the shaft, which was red and swollen from enduring the day.

Just below, he could see the base of the vibrator that Xeno had customized. Of course, it was purple.

Stanley took out the controller from his pocket.

Three seconds.

He turned the dial straight up to ludicrous mode.

Xeno’s body arched, straining, every muscle taut with pleasure. It was too much, felt so good, that he temporarily went mute.

“When I see you like this, it makes me want to overwhelm you even more.”

His hand wrapped around Xeno’s cock, guiding its thicker-than-usual heft between his lips. He felt Xeno’s hands tangling helplessly in his blond hair, all control lost.

Stanley let him dictate the rhythm, savoring the way his mouth was filled, tasting every inch of him.

“Stan, Stan, Stan, Stan—” Xeno moaned his name like a broken record, as though he had forgotten every other word in the universe.

Only Stanley could deliver exactly what he craved, exactly what he needed like this.

“Mmm,” Stanley hummed, mouth warm and tight around Xeno’s straining cock, as his fingers worked expertly on the buttons holding the leather cock ring in place.

One button gave way after another, each popping sound one step closer to losing control.

Then, Xeno was finally free to come at last, shuddering.

Stanley tried to swallow, but it was a lot more than he was expecting. He coughed, choking on it, as he pulled back. His eyes closed as the warm, slick flow spilled over his lashes, splashed across his chin and neck.

He turned the vibrator off and stayed by Xeno’s side, keeping him company through the afterglow of a very intense orgasm.

“Stan, You’re the best.” Xeno’s voice was airy, almost like his soul had floated halfway out of his body.

Notes:

A sweet & spicy chapter XD Unlocked a new kink - Xeno getting so turned on he can't make a sound LOL

In other news, I'm going to be going on a 2 week hiatus. Travelling to Japan :D Hopefully I will get to pick up some stanxeno doujinshi ^^ to inspire future works haha. Rest assured, I will finish posting the rest of this story once I'm back. Hope everyone has a great weekend!

P.S. ... Last ep of the anime was brutal!

Notes:

Thank you to cheesiurger for the lovely comic they drew <3
Check it out here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69628191

Thank you to novicecomics for the lovely fan art!
Check it out here: https://x.com/Nova_InThe_Dark/status/1964569556581830851 (based off ch 1)