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Stebbins touches people like he's afraid he’ll break them, but lucky for him, Barkovitch has been broken since birth. He probably came out of the womb with jagged edges and a taste for blood. But then maybe the issue isn’t that he’s afraid he’ll break other people. Maybe it’s that Stebbins touches like he's the thing that might shatter. Which is exactly why Barkovitch can't stop fucking with him.
"You're thinking too hard," Barkovitch says, sprawled across Stebbins' bed. He's shirtless, jeans unbuttoned, making himself at home in a way that would piss off anyone with boundaries. Which of course, Stebbins does have boundaries. In fact, Stebbins has entire walls made of concrete and razor wire. Barkovitch wants to climb them all.
"I'm not thinking at all," Stebbins says, which is a lie. Stebbins is always thinking. His brain never shuts up, and Barkovitch can tell. He's standing by the window like he's considering jumping out of it just to avoid whatever this is becoming.
"Liar." Barkovitch sits up. "You've been staring at me for like ten minutes."
"Five."
"So you were counting." Barkovitch grins.
This is the game: Barkovitch pushes, Stebbins resists, and eventually something gives. Usually it’s Stebbins' self-control.
"Come here," Gary says, and it's not a request.
"You come here."
"Make me."
Stebbins closes his eyes and takes a grounding breath. Barkovitch can see him trying to find his footing, trying to figure out how to be in charge when Gary refuses to let him. It's cute, almost; the way he thinks he can maintain any kind of control.
When Stebbins finally crosses the room, he stops at the edge of the bed, looking down at Barkovitch.
"You're so fucking annoying," he says.
"Yeah?" Barkovitch reaches up, hooks his fingers in Stebbins' belt loops, and pulls him closer. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Stebbins doesn’t hesitate as he crashes their lips together. Barkovitch bites his bottom lip, hard enough to make him gasp.
"Stop being so fucking gentle," he says against his mouth.
"I'm not—"
"You are! You're terrified of hurting me. It's pathetic."
Stebbins pulls back. There's blood on his lip that Barkovitch wants to lick off.
"I'm not terrified," he says, but his hands are shaking where they're gripping Gary's shoulders. "I just—"
"You just what? Scared you'll like it too much? Scared you'll lose control?" Barkovitch laughs.
Something shifts in Stebbins' expression. That carefully maintained composure cracks, just a little.
"Lay back," he says.
Barkovitch doesn't move. "Make me."
Stebbins' hand comes up to his throat and he squeezes.
"Don't test me," he says.
"Or what?"
The hand on his throat tightens which only makes Barkovitch grin.
"There you go," he whispers. "That's better."
Stebbins kisses him again, harder this time. His hands are everywhere; Barkovitch's hair, his jaw, sliding down to push his jeans lower. He’s trying to stay ahead of his own nervous system, trying to touch before he gets too overwhelmed to keep going.
Barkovitch grabs his wrist, guiding his hand lower. "Touch me here."
Stebbins does. His hand slips between Gary's legs and he arches up into the touch, shameless.
"You're so fucking wet," Stebbins says.
"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" Barkovitch rocks his hips, trying to get more friction. "Stop being so fucking careful about it."
"I'm not—"
"You are. You're acting like I'm gonna break. I'm not made of glass. I'm not some virgin who needs to be handled with care. I can take it. I want to take it."
"I'm not holding back," Stebbins says, but he is. He's holding back so hard that Barkovitch can see the tension in every muscle, the way he's white-knuckling his self-control.
"Fuck me," Gary demands.
Stebbins freezes. "We should— I don't know if—"
"Now you're scared? I'm literally begging you to fuck me and you're what? Worried about my feelings?"
"I'm worried I'll— I just don't want to hurt you."
"I don't care if you hurt me. Hell, I want you to hurt me."
"Barkovitch, that's not how this works."
"Then how does it work?" Gary sits up. They're nose to nose now, breathing the same air. "You tell me how it works because from where I'm sitting, you want me just as bad as I want you, but you're too fucking scared of yourself to do anything about it."
Stebbins kisses him to shut him up. It works, but only for a second. Barkovitch pulls back, grinning.
"That's what I thought."
"I hate you," Stebbins says, but he's already reaching for the drawer where he keeps condoms and lube. His hands are shaking so bad he drops the bottle twice.
Barkovitch takes it from him. "You're a mess."
"Whose fault is that?"
"Mine, obviously." Gary pops the cap and pours lube into Stebbins' palm. "Now stop stalling and finger me."
Stebbins looks like he's about to pass out. He takes a breath, steadies himself, and then his fingers are at Barkovitch's entrance, pressing inside him with torturous slowness.
"Is this… is this okay?"
"It's more than okay. It's—" Gary gasps as Stebbins twists his fingers. "Fuck, right there."
Stebbins’ free hand is gripping Barkovitch's thigh hard enough to bruise, like he needs something to anchor him to reality.
"You're so tight," he says.
"Then use another finger."
"Barkovitch—"
"Another finger."
Stebbins obeys, and Barkovitch moans.
"You're going to kill me," Stebbins says.
"Good. Die inside me."
Getting Stebbins inside him is a little more complicated. Not because Barkovitch isn't ready; he's been ready, he's so ready he's shaking with it. No, it's because Stebbins keeps stopping to check on him, to ask if he's okay, to make sure he really wants this.
"I swear to God," Gary says when he pauses for the third time. "If you ask me one more time if I'm okay, I'm going to kill you."
"I just—"
"I'm fine. I'm more than fine. I'm so fucking turned on right now that I can't think straight. So hurry up and fuck me like a whore. Jesus Christ."
Stebbins slowly pushes inside of him.
"Faster," Gary commands.
"Give me a second."
"I don't want to give you a second. I want you to fuck me!"
“You're impossible."
"And you love it."
Stebbins doesn't deny it. He just pushes in deeper, and Barkovitch's back arches off the bed. They both freeze, caught in that moment of almost-too-much, where pleasure and pain blur together into something transcendent.
"Move," Gary says again, but quieter this time. "Please."
He starts moving, slow and deep, and Barkovitch can feel him shaking.
"You're still holding back," Gary says.
"If I don't hold back I'll—"
"You'll what? Cum too fast? Lose control? Be human for once?" Barkovitch wraps his legs around Stebbins' waist, pulling him deeper. "I want you to fuck me until you can't think, until you can't remember your own name, until the only thing you know is how good I feel around you. I want you to use me until you break. I want—"
Stebbins kisses him to shut him up, and then he's moving faster, harder, losing that careful restraint.
"Look at me," Barkovitch demands. "You're already close, aren't you?"
"Shut up."
"You are. I can tell. You're not gonna last."
"Barkovitch, it's too much, I can't—"
"Yes you can." Gary rocks his hips up, meeting every thrust. "You're doing so good. Just a little longer."
But Stebbins is shaking his head, his fingers digging bruises into Barkovitch's hips. "I can't. It feels— everything feels—"
He's so overstimulated he can barely form sentences and Gary has never seen anything hotter.
"Does it hurt?" he asks, and he doesn't mean the sex.
"No. Yes. I don't— it's just so much, you're so— I can feel everything. Every time you move, every sound you make, I can feel it everywhere and I don't know how to—"
"Then stop trying to control it. Actually, no. Don't stop. Hold on. You don't get to cum yet."
"What?"
"You heard me." Barkovitch plants his feet on the bed and starts fucking himself on Stebbins' cock, taking control entirely. "You're not allowed to cum until I say so."
"That's not— I can't—"
"Sure you can. Just think about something else. Think about literally anything except how good I feel." Barkovitch picks up the pace, rolling his hips in a way that has Stebbins gasping. "Go on. Try."
The issue is that Stebbins is trying. He's trying so hard his whole body is shaking with the effort of holding back. His eyes are screwed shut, his teeth are gritted, and he looks like he's in actual pain.
"You're so pathetic," Gary says, delighted.
"Barkovitch, please—"
"Please what? Please let you cum? No! You came in like three minutes last time. That was embarrassing. So now you're gonna prove you can actually last."
"I'm trying!"
"What kind of top cums that fast?" Gary snorts.
"I told you… I'm too sensitive!"
"Then get less sensitive. Figure it out." Barkovitch reaches down and starts jerking himself off while still riding Stebbins' cock. "Watch. I'm gonna cum all over your dick and you're not allowed to finish until I'm done. Those are the rules."
"That's not fair!"
"Life's not fair, baby." Barkovitch picks up his pace on both fronts, fucking himself harder while stroking his tdick faster.
Stebbins is whimpering and his hands are white-knuckled on Barkovitch's hips. He looks like he's about to shatter into a million pieces.
"Look at you. You're shaking. Are you gonna cry? Is the little baby gonna cry because he can't hold it?"
"Barkovitch, please, I can't— I'm gonna—"
"No you're not. You're gonna wait." Barkovitch leans down, his breath hot against Stebbins' ear. "Because if you cum before I say so, I'm never fucking you again. Understand?"
Stebbins’ whole body is trembling, tears gathering in his eyes from the overwhelming sensation, but somehow, he manages to hold on.
Barkovitch is putting on a show and he knows it, moaning loudly, making sure Stebbins watches every second of it. When he cums, he clenches hard around Stebbins' cock, and finally, he says, "Okay. You can cum now."
Stebbins cums so hard he nearly blacks out. When it's over, he just lies there shaking, completely destroyed.
"There you go. See? I knew you could do it!" Gary rolls his hips a little and watches Stebbins flinch. "Oh, too sensitive now? That's too bad."
"Please… please stop."
"Stop what? I'm not doing anything! You're still inside me. That's your fault, not mine."
"I can't… you need to get off."
"Make me."
Stebbins tries to grab his hips to lift him off, but his arms are shaking too badly. He can barely move. Barkovitch just laughs.
"Wow. You really are useless right now, aren't you?" He finally, mercifully, lifts himself off and watches as Stebbins curls into a ball, oversensitized and destroyed. "You're so dramatic."
"You're evil!" Stebbins cries.
"I know." Barkovitch flops down beside him, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "That was fun. We should do it again. Like, right now."
"Absolutely not."
"Why not? You're still hard."
"I'm not—" Stebbins looks down. He is. His body is betraying him spectacularly. "That doesn't mean anything."
"Sure it does. It means you want more.”
"That's not—"
"Shh." Barkovitch puts a finger to Stebbins' lips. "Don't ruin it by talking. Just admit that you love it when I'm mean to you."
Stebbins is quiet for a long time. Then, miserably, he whispers, "I do."
Barkovitch kisses him, surprisingly gentle. "That's why this works. You need someone to push you around and I need someone to break. It's perfect."
"It's fucked up."
"Same thing." Barkovitch reaches down and wraps his hand around Stebbins' cock, making him gasp. "So… round two?"
"You're insane!”
"That's not a no…" Barkovitch strokes him slowly, watching his face. "Come on, I'll even let you cum whenever you want this time. Well, probably. Maybe. We'll see how I'm feeling."
Stebbins should say no. His body is screaming at him to say no. But he's looking at the challenge in Barkovitch’s eyes, and he can't.
"Fine," he says. "But this time I'm in charge."
Barkovitch laughs so hard he almost falls off the bed. "Sure, baby. Whatever you need to tell yourself."
And when Stebbins kisses him, Gary just smiles against his mouth.
Because the thing about Stebbins is that he thinks he wants control, he thinks he needs it, but what he really needs is someone who'll take it away from him, someone who'll push him until he breaks and then put him back together just to break him again and again and again.
Luckily for him, Gary Barkovitch is very good at breaking things.