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The text comes through well after midnight, and if it had been any other sound Lucius would have ignored it. As it were, that specific text tone makes him jerk upright, disrupting Pete who had been curled against him.
“Shh, babe, go back to sleep,” Lucius whispers, reaching blindly for his phone on the bedside.
“Mrph…” Pete mumbles from somewhere under his collection of stolen covers.
Lucius’ heart rate picks up at the curt message on his screen, warmth stirring in his gut as he sends a quick confirmation before settling back in bed.
Pete, the heat-seeking lizard that he is, immediately latches back onto him like a barnacle. “Was that Mr. Short Dark and Handsome?”
“Yeah,” Lucius murmurs, kissing the top of his boyfriend’s head. He hears Pete’s breathing even out shortly after and he smiles, fondness making his chest ache.
This little thing he had going was not new, but it still made Lucius’ heart flutter and his cock stir with interest. This strange, infuriating, gorgeous man had one hell of a hold on him, and it wasn’t just because he paid their rent.
Israel Hands is a cranky enigma, and despite months of this arrangement Lucius still doesn’t have a clear picture of the man. He is rich, that much is certain, but he doesn’t live like it. His apartment is spartan and his wardrobe seems to consist of the same black pants and shirt he always wears. He drives a motorcycle, something that makes Lucius both excited and exasperated—the man is approaching 50 for fuck’s sake—but Lucius is still determined to get him to fuck him on it.
And that’s the other thing: the sex.
Sex with Izzy is mind blowing, and the sex Lucius has after he tells Pete about it is just as incredible. But the man is deeply, firmly in the closet. He pays handsomely for Lucius’ discretion, and always insists Lucius come over after dark to reduce the chances of being spotted. It bothers Lucius, not because he minds being a dirty little secret, but because of the self-loathing he sees in Izzy’s face afterwards.
Lucius sighs and snuggles deeper into Pete’s arms, closing his eyes. It isn’t his job to fix Izzy, as Pete has reminded him on many occasions, but it still makes something in his chest hurt.
In the morning Lucius whines and bitches as Pete gently wakes him for work.
“Babe, you’ll be late for your shift,” Pete says, peppering kisses over Lucius’ face.
“Don’t wanna,” Lucius complains, giving Pete his best calf-eyes. “Can’t I just quit? I pull in more than enough from Izzy.”
Pete grins and presses a coffee into his hands. “And how will you explain that income?”
He’s right, usually is, and Lucius grumbles but gets out of bed and ready for work. It’s not a terrible job, working as a waiter at The Revenge, but Lucius complains on principle when it comes to manual labor.
It’s an easy day at the restaurant, and Lucius gets a generous tip from an older man after bending over a bit too far to pick up a fallen napkin. Ivan and Fang, the line cooks, whip up some food for the staff to snack on as they work and time goes quickly.
Lucius leaves work with anticipation building in his chest, hurrying home to shower and change even though it’ll be hours before dark.
He chooses a particularly skimpy pair of panties and then wastes a few minutes admiring his ass in the mirror, which is how Pete finds him when he comes home.
“That’s pretty hot, babe. Did he buy those?” Pete asks, sliding up behind Lucius and wrapping his arms around him.
“His money did,” Lucius says happily, pressing back into him and sighing when Pete’s hands start to wander.
Pete gently runs his hands along Lucius’ chest, smiling at them in the mirror. “What are you wearing tonight?”
“Isn’t this enough?”
Pete barks a laugh and kisses the side of his neck. “Absolutely, but if you show up wearing only those, he’ll have a heart attack and then how will you buy more?”
Lucius pouts at that logic but pulls away, heading to his closet.
“How about a dress?” Pete offers, perching on the bed and watching.
Lucius snorts, pushing clothes around. “I think he would actually die if I showed up in one.”
“Shame. You look amazing in them.”
“I look amazing in everything,” Lucius shoots back with a smirk.
They play dress up for a little bit, Pete offering unhelpful advice and Lucius laughing at the thought of the expressions Izzy would pull at some of the ideas. He ends up selecting high-waisted skinny jeans and a crop top, and at Pete’s instance he chooses a pair of high heeled boots.
Lucius jumps in the shower, quickly scrubbing himself with his favorite body wash, and then preens in the mirror until Pete reminds him of the time.
Bless that man.
“Alright,” Lucius says, finally dressed and ready. “What do you think?”
“I’d jump you,” Pete says solemnly.
Lucius giggles and lets Pete pull him in for a kiss, sweet and lingering. “I’ll be back in the morning.”
“Can’t wait,” Pete says, kissing him again and then waving him out the door.
Lucius orders a ride, knowing the credit card purchase will pop up on Izzy’s phone and alert him that he’s coming. He gets dropped off a block away, which Lucius still thinks is ridiculous, and lets himself into the apartment building.
The elevator ride has Lucius fussing at his reflection, pulling and adjusting his top and quickly adding a bit of lip gloss to complete the look. Satisfied, he heads to Izzy’s door, putting his key in the lock and letting himself in.
Nothing has changed, not a thing out of place, including the forced nonchalant pose Izzy has against the bar counter.
Lucius smiles sweetly and closes the door, the lock clicking with finality. “Well, hello there.”
Izzy is in his usual get up, a slash of black against the grey and white marble counter. He’s got a drink in his hand, and Lucius knows it’s whiskey. He’ll taste it later on his tongue, and Lucius wonders if it’ll one day give him a Pavlovian reaction.
“What are you wearing,” is the greeting Izzy gives, gruff and dripping with disdain.
“If you don’t like it, you can always rip it off,” Lucius purrs, moving slowly forwards. He had learned early on that Izzy spooked easily, which would be endearing if it didn’t follow with Lucius being thrown out.
Izzy’s eyes rove over his body, the grip on his glass tightening as he stares at the strip of skin peeking out below Lucius’ top. He takes another swallow of his drink and then sets it aside, watching Lucius approach with poorly concealed desire.
“How was work, Daddy?” Lucius teases, smirking when Izzy scowls. This was always the hardest part, convincing Izzy that he could have this. Lucius is confident that he could do nothing but lounge around and watch TV and Izzy would still pay him, but that was no fun at all.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” Lucius continues, dropping his voice as he stops in front of Izzy, close enough to hear his breathing catch. “I was so distracted at work, imaging everything you might do to me tonight.”
“You’re useless at work anyway,” Izzy snaps, opening and closing his hands at his sides.
Oh, so close now. Just a little push…
“Can’t help it. I keep picturing you having me on every surface of the place,” Lucius says, letting the tip of his tongue peek out and run along his bottom lip.
“That’s because you’re a slut,” Izzy breathes, watching the movement.
God yes, almost there.
“I’m your slut,” Lucius purrs.
Izzy grabs him, hands tight around Lucius’ hips as he twists them around, pushing Lucius against the counter. His mouth is fierce and hot, hungry against Lucius’ lips as he devours him.
Lucius moans, gripping Izzy’s shirt and pulling him close. The taste of whiskey on his tongue makes Lucius’ head spin, and he makes it his life’s mission to lick it out of Izzy’s mouth. Judging by the shiver that elicits, Izzy is very on board with that.
Hands roam greedily, up the back of Lucius’ tiny top and down to his ass, unable to settle on a place. Izzy’s hands are broad, rough, and calloused from whatever he did in a past life, and every swipe of them across Lucius’ sensitive skin sends him whining.
Izzy moves to Lucius’ neck, his facial hair scratching against the soft skin and making Lucius squirm. He catches skin between his teeth and bites, releasing the second Lucius whimpers, and then sucks the mark into his neck.
“You going to have me on the counter?” Lucius pants, rolling his hips into the hard outline of Izzy’s cock.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Izzy growls, nails dragging down Lucius’ back. “Bent you over like the little whore you are.”
Lucius moans, head falling back as arousal spikes through him. Izzy’s voice always makes him melt, and the filthy things he says only makes Lucius want him even more. He had called Lucius a bitch, once, and when Lucius had told him sweetly that if he ever did that again he would leave forever Izzy had sent him a list of words for approval via text that same day. It made Lucius’ heart do funny things in his chest.
“Get on the bed. And take those fucking ridiculous shoes off,” Izzy says, stepping back and giving Lucius’ thigh a light slap.
Lucius slips past him, making sure to brush up against Izzy as he does. He might add a bit more swish in his walk than needed, but the muttered curse behind him makes it so worth it.
The bed is perfectly made, hospital corners snug and pillows centered. Lucius removes his shoes and then launches himself into the bed, rolling around and messing everything up with glee. He looks up in time to catch Izzy’s snarl as a pillow hits the floor.
“Oops,” Lucius giggles, smiling prettily up at Izzy.
“You fucking twat. You’re fixing this bed when you leave.”
They both know that won’t be happening.
Izzy sheds his shirt, laying it on a chair in the corner of his room before approaching the bed with a predatory look. His hair is already a little mussed from Lucius’ hands, and the overall appearance is striking.
Izzy grabs Lucius by the ankles and yanks him towards the edge of the bed, smirking at his yelp. He pulls the offending top off quickly, tossing it to the floor with none of the care he shows his own clothes. Next his hands find Lucius’ button and zipper, and Lucius waits eagerly for Izzy’s reaction.
Sure enough, Izzy only gets Lucius’ pants down to his hips before he freezes.
Lucius watches as Izzy’s eyes widen, lips parting in surprise as a quiet huff of air passes through them. He wants desperately to kiss him but doesn’t want to break the moment.
Izzy’s hands fumble slightly as he pulls the jeans off, leaving Lucius in his panties.
They’re a cream color, delicate and beautiful against Lucius’ pale skin. Lace hugs his stiffening cock, and a thin cream ribbon is woven through the waist band, tied in a tiny bow at the front.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Izzy whispers to himself, and then flushes violently as Lucius spreads his thighs open.
“Like it?”
Izzy’s attention snaps back to Lucius’ face, his ocean-colored eyes dark with lust. He looks like he wants to say something, and his mouth works for a second before he makes a frustrated noise.
Oh, the sweet thing.
Lucius drags himself slowly back to the center of the bed and then sprawls out, leaning back on his elbows and keeping his legs parted to give Izzy a nice view.
“I bought them with your money, you know,” he says conversationally, not missing the heated look flash across Izzy’s face. “Something nice and snug to touch me when you’re not there.”
Izzy is on him instantly, pinning him to the bed and growling into his mouth. His hands find Lucius’ wrists and he pins them above his head before fumbling with his belt.
The crack of leather as Izzy rips it through his belt loops makes Lucius dizzy, and he whines when Izzy wraps it snuggly around his wrists. It’s a bit rough, not made for this sort of play, but oh it feels incredible against the soft skin of Lucius’ inner wrists.
“You,” Izzy pants, a wild look in his eye. “You…”
“Mnnh, yes,” Lucius arches his back, tugging at his bonds just for the feel of it.
Izzy swears, and then his hands find Lucius’ panties. He’s shockingly gentle, dragging his fingertips along the silky ribbon and giving the bow a little tap. He brushes the lace, feeling where it meets skin and tracing the line. His hands come back to Lucius’ cock, now straining obscenely against the garment, and pets the outline of him.
“Oh,” Lucius pants as his cock throbs, then moans as Izzy drags his thumb over his cockhead.
“Turn over,” Izzy rasps, and then doesn’t wait. He flips Lucius easily, dragging his hips up until Lucius is on his knees, face buried in the bed. Izzy tugs aside the delicate fabric, holding it with one hand as his other spreads Lucius open.
The first swipe of his tongue has Lucius keening into the sheets. His hands clutch frantically at the bedcovers as Izzy licks at him, broad flat strokes of his tongue that set Lucius on fire.
Izzy buries his face in Lucius, lapping insistently at his hole until he hears Lucius wail. He’s spit-slick and desperate, and that’s all Izzy needs as he pushes his tongue into him.
“Oh god, Izzy—!” Lucius cries, rocking back into him. His thighs are shaking and his panties are cutting into him, wrenched to the side as they are. The leather belt digs into Lucius’ wrists, and it’s yet another intoxicating sensation sweeping through his body.
Izzy pulls back briefly to admire his work before adding a finger alongside his tongue, fucking them both into Lucius’ without warning. It earns him a garbled wail, which goes straight to his aching erection.
“Izzy, oh fuck, Izzy please,” Lucius begs, and then whines pitifully when Izzy pulls away.
“Hush, brat, I’m just grabbing lube,” Izzy mutters, though he keeps a hand pressed against Lucius as he fishes the bottle out from his nightstand.
“’m your brat,” Lucius says, and hums happily when he hears the choked noise Izzy makes. Then he’s being maneuvered again, a bit more gently, until he’s on his back and Izzy is leaning over him.
Izzy’s fingers hook into Lucius’ panties and slowly pull them down. They end up somewhere out of sight and, after Lucius whines and makes pathetic noises, Izzy finally sheds the rest of his clothes.
The skin-on-skin contact sends electricity through Lucius, and he moans as Izzy uses his body to pin him to the bed. Something cold touches his entrance, and Lucius twitches until Izzy shushes him quietly and presses his fingers in.
The slide is glorious, Izzy’s thick fingers filling him perfectly, and Lucius pants into broad, scarred shoulders and spreads his legs.
“Fuck,” Izzy hisses, sounding completely undone, and then presses frantic open-mouthed kisses all along Lucius’ throat and collarbone. He adds another finger, curls them, and then makes a pleased noise when Lucius bucks into him.
“Please,” Lucius manages, staring pleadingly up at Izzy as those torturous fingers thrust into him over and over. “Please, oh, please please please—!”
“Yes,” Izzy breathes, fixated on Lucius even as he draws his hand away and lines himself up. “Anything you want, pet.”
Lucius’ back bows off the bed as Izzy thrusts in, keening loudly. He feels hands and lips on him, soothing and stroking, and he loops his bound wrists shakily over Izzy’s neck.
“Perfect,” Izzy says quietly, awe written upon every feature, and once Lucius starts squirming, he begins to move.
Lucius cries out with each thrust, demanding more and being given it before he can even finish asking. Pleasure burns through him, taking him higher and higher with no mercy. It’s all consuming, addicting, and Lucius throws himself headlong into it.
Izzy pants and moans above him, hair falling in his face and flush high on his cheeks. He grips Lucius’ thighs and pushes them back, folding him as he drives into the tight heat.
The new angle gets him deeper, and Lucius wails and struggles against his bonds. He can feel his release barreling towards him, all from the abuse Izzy is unleashing on his prostate, and it only makes him more frantic.
Izzy fucks him into the bed, eyes never leaving Lucius’ face as he thrashes underneath him.
“Izzy, fuck, I’m close!” Lucius pleads, the coil inside of him impossibly tight.
“Go on, pet, come on my cock, such a pretty thing,” Izzy murmurs, and then groans as Lucius tightens around him like a vice as he comes.
Sound fades out as Lucius’ orgasm crashes over him, pulse after pulse of almost painful pleasure wracking through his body. It’s too much, too good, and Lucius hears himself sobbing as he paints streaks of white over his belly.
Hands are in his hair, on his face, wiping away tears and holding him through it. Warm, steady, solid, and so painstakingly tender. Lucius hiccups wetly and opens his eyes, a small noise leaving his lips as Izzy swims into view.
Izzy kisses him, so unbelievably softly, and Lucius whines pitifully.
“Shh, I got you, hang on,” Izzy murmurs, moving to pull out, only to be immediately trapped by Lucius clinging to him. “Pet, let go.”
“Please,” Lucius whispers, tightening his legs and making them both moan as it jostles Izzy inside Lucius. He can feel Izzy hesitating, desire warring with concern.
“I want to feel you,” Lucius asks, begs really, and Izzy makes a broken noise.
He starts moving again, carefully, and then with more intent as Lucius moans encouragement and holds tightly to him. Izzy avoids his over-sensitive prostate, rocking into him with short, hard thrusts that have him gasping into Lucius’ shoulder.
Lucius loves it, letting himself float on the blurry line between pleasure and pain, drinking in the helpless noises Izzy makes. Lucius feels his rhythm stutter, fail, and then he’s coming with Lucius’ name buried in the pillow. The feeling makes Lucius’ cock stir, and he shivers happily as he runs his bound hands up and down the short bit of Izzy’s back that he can reach.
Izzy slowly adjusts them, letting Lucius’ legs lower onto the bed and gently easing out. He isn’t much for cuddling, but Lucius is, so Izzy flattens himself on top of him. Distantly, Lucius feels the belt being removed, and he sighs as he can finally let his arms down.
The weight and warmth of another body on his makes Lucius deliriously happy, and it slowly helps to ground him back into reality. He drags it out as long as he can, basking in the afterglow and not so subtly inhaling Izzy’s scent.
Izzy shifts after a bit, pulling back, and then stops when Lucius catches his wrist.
“I’m going to grab you water, pet, I’ll be back,” Izzy says, but waits until Lucius lets go before moving. He comes back quickly, a glass of water and a washcloth in hand.
Lucius accepts them both and cleans himself off. He sips the water, then finishes it when Izzy starts to glare at him.
Izzy sets the glass and towel aside when Lucius is finished, then catches his wrists and looks them over. The belt has left lines, pink and tender, but nothing that wouldn’t be gone in a day. Still, Izzy rubs his thumbs over the lines until some of the redness eases.
Lucius sits up, aware that their time is coming to a fast end. He scoots towards Izzy, smiling when the man casts him a suspicious look.
He’s still fuck-drunk enough to allow it, so Lucius threads his fingers through Izzy’s hair and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s heated, open mouthed, but unhurried. Izzy allows the slide of lips against his own, even flicks his tongue out to taste Lucius.
It’s perfect, and when Lucius pulls back they both look a little hazy.
Now for the part he doesn’t like.
Lucius dawdles, stretching and working out imaginary kinks in his shoulders and neck, before getting to his feet. He moves lazily around the bedroom, finding his clothes, and gives Izzy a salacious wink when he catches him staring.
The jeans go on, then the top, lastly the boots.
All fixed up, Lucius walks back over to Izzy, who is still sitting in the bed and beginning to look a little lost. Lucius knows what comes after that—anger, misery, and a stubborn refusal to make eye contact.
“For you,” Lucius says sweetly, holding out his closed hand.
Izzy mutely opens his hand and then looks shocked when the cream-colored panties fall into it.
“A little something to remember me by,” Lucius teases, watching as Izzy closes his fingers slowly around them.
“Like I could forget you.”
Lucius feels something tight in his chest at the quiet admission, though he keeps his smile fixed firmly on his face. He leans down and kisses the top of Izzy’s head, knowing it bugs him, and then scampers off at the half-hearted swearing.
Lucius lets himself out and makes sure to lock up behind him. He goes a block away and calls for a ride, then sits in silence on the way home. It’s early, the world outside is still and quiet, and Lucius finds it comforting.
He opens the front door to his and Pete’s apartment as quietly as he can, then heads to the guest bathroom to shower so as not to wake Pete.
Clean, tired, and unable to put those last words from his mind, Lucius crawls into bed.
An arm slips around his waist and lips press against the back of his neck.
“Alright?” Pete whispers.
“Yeah,” Lucius whispers back, that last sentence playing over and over in his mind. If Pete notices anything the next morning, he’s kind enough not to press, and Lucius adores him for it. They bicker playfully over who will go grocery shopping and Lucius doesn’t examine the emotion he gets when he sees a new deposit in his bank account.
That’s the arrangement, after all.