Chapter 2
Pete was pretty sure he was bisexual, but Daisy insisted he was her gay best friend, so he didn’t argue. Daisy was a beautiful woman and Pete had enjoyed their time together, but she was also a bit bonkers. Pete knew why he needed Poppy, but he had no idea what Daisy had been looking for in an imaginary girlfriend. He wasn’t sure what she’d been looking for in Pete.
“What do you think of these shoes?” Daisy asked as she displayed her elegant sling-back pumps.
“Genius!” Pete answered with genuine enthusiasm. He loved over-the-top fashions, and Daisy was the queen. She had always had a distinctive style, but now that she was considering herself an actress, she had gone old-school Hollywood in a big way, and it was amazing. She wore enormous hats and carried fancy handbags and generally looked like a living legend. Sometimes she was confused for a man in drag, but Daisy was fashionable enough to recognize it as a compliment.
“Gay best friends are simply the best!” Daisy squealed. “So much better than a boyfriend, really. We can gossip, go shopping, have picnics…”
“We did those things when we were dating,” Pete pointed out.
“Because you were totally gay and didn’t know it!”
Pete was pretty sure he hadn’t been totally gay, but it didn’t seem worth arguing about. He couldn’t imagine being with anyone other than Stitch. Everyone, even the magnificent Daisy, paled in comparison.
“I had my suspicions,” Daisy continued. “Remember how you always wanted me to do the thing…”
Daisy made an obscene gesture, and Pete blushed. As much as he liked Daisy, he’d already been head over heels for the seemingly unreachable Stitch when they were dating. He had never intended to use Daisy to prepare him for sex with Stitch, but he had to admit she’d been a big help.
“So, how’s the kinky sex?”
Pete shushed her before whispering, “Everything is great, but…”
“What’s wrong, darling? Is he not listening to your safe word? Is it the aftercare? Aftercare is soooooo important. Is he keeping it SSC? Safe, sane, and consensual? I wasn’t going to mention the bruises on your wrist…”
Pete looked at his bruised and reddened wrist. “Actually, that’s from the leashes…”
Daisy squealed in delight.
“The puppy leashes. I had their leashes on one arm so I could carry my groceries, and they went mental…”
“Pete, you are avoiding the subject.”
Daisy looked so stern, Pete suddenly forget what they were talking about.
“What subject?”
“Stitch tying you up and playing with you.”
“I don’t think I said he tied me up…”
Daisy shrugged. “I’m making inferences.”
“It’s just… What’s aftercare?”
Daisy always got excited when it was her turn to explain something, and this was no exception.
“Aftercare is the time you spend after playing, where you reconnect, support one another, talk about what happened. You might want to cuddle and be romantic. Gel reads me poetry after a session, and it is so beautiful… The idea is beautiful, not the poetry. The poetry is absolute rubbish.”
Pete’s heart was pounding in his chest. He had no idea what Daisy was talking about. He didn’t even know a poem by heart. Maybe a limerick or two, but nothing that would impress Stitch.
“What’s a safe word?” he asked. When Charles talked about sex with Stitch, he used words that Pete didn’t know, and it made Pete feel childish and inexperienced. Now he wondered what harm he might be doing to Stitch, in his ignorance.
He kept making Daisy repeat herself as his thoughts swirled. He was having trouble hearing through his worries.
“You’re worrying too much,” Daisy sighed. “It’s really up to Stitch, as the dom, to handle all these things.”
Pete had a feeling Daisy was wrong, but he hesitated to argue with her. He couldn’t correct her assumption that Stitch was always the one doing the dominating. For one thing, she wouldn’t believe him any more than she believed he wasn’t always the bottom. For a woman who had dated an imaginary woman, Daisy could be oddly black and white in her thinking.
If Daisy thought it was weird for Stitch to be submissive to Pete, then it was probably something that troubled Stitch. He was entirely too worried about what ordinary people thought about him. Stitch acted like he had no idea he was special and like he needed to be more like the people around him, instead of the other way round.
Xxx
Pete giggled as he fell back hard onto the bed.
“You think this is funny?” Stitch asked with a barely repressed smile. “This is serious business.”
Stitch easily rolled Pete over and gave him a smack on the rear. Pete watched as Stitch carefully attached the wrist cuffs.
“Too tight? Too loose?” Stitch asked, as always.
“Perfect. Just the way I like it.”
Stitch kissed him tenderly before moving behind Pete and pushing his legs apart.
“I’m going to need you to lie very still and be a good boy.”
Pete blushed as Stitch ran his hands over Pete’s body and made appreciative noises and giggled when Stitch slipped a blindfold over his eyes. He enjoyed the blindfold. It made it easier to forget to be self-conscious when he couldn’t see Stitch’s shifting eyes taking in every detail of everything around him.
“Get on your knees,” Stitch quietly ordered. “Arch your back.”
Pete did as he was told and Stitch ran a finger along his backbone, down to Pete’s arse. Stitch stroked his finger around Pete’s entrance before replacing his finger with his tongue. Pete’s arms shook as Stitch’s thick tongue lapped at his sensitive skin and occasionally penetrated the tight ring of muscle.
“Keep still.”
There was nothing harsh about Stitch’s tone, but it carried authority. Pete tried to stay still as Stitch tongued him, but it was at once too much and not nearly enough.
“I want you, Stitch.”
“You want my cock?”
“Oh, yes. I want your cock inside me. Now. Please.”
Stitch took his time, drizzling lubricant over Pete’s back and thighs and massaging him, while only occasionally pushing his fingers inside. If Pete’s hands had been free, he would have stretched himself to move things along, but all he could do was spread his legs as wide as possible and hope Stitch would hurry up.
“Please, Stitch.”
Stitch chuckled. “So impatient.”
Pete scooted away from something cold against his arse before he realized it was a toy. He struggled to stay still as Stitch slipped something hard and a little cold inside of him. Stitch quickly found Pete’s prostate and used painfully slow movements of the toy to stroke Pete from the inside.
“Oh, Stitch. Now, please.”
“Patience is a virtue,” was Stitch’s only response to Pete’s begging, other than the occasional spank on the rear.
Pete moaned as he felt a light vibration deep inside of him. Stitch slowly increased the speed of the vibration until it suddenly went from amazing to uncomfortable. Pete tried to move away, but because of his cuffed hands, he ended up falling awkwardly on his face.
Stitch immediately freed one of Pete’s hands.
“Are you okay? Did that hurt?”
Pete felt embarrassed. It was simple to tell Stitch what he liked in bed. What he didn’t like wasn’t so easy to convey.
“Maybe we should have a safe word,” Pete suggested as Stitch removed his blindfold just in time for Pete to see the look of horror on his face.
“What? Pete, you can always tell me when you don’t want to do something. I would never try to push you into something…”
“I know that, Stitch!” Pete tried to wipe the worry lines from Stitch’s face. “It’s just a word I could use…”
“You don’t have to explain,” Stitch promised. “I should have thought about it. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mean anything by it…” But Stitch had shifted into his unreachable state. Pete couldn’t catch his eye.
“It should be a word you won’t ever say during sex, like rhinoceros or… Henry.”
Pete had no response, but Stitch quickly apologized for being “a dick.” Pete couldn’t keep up with Stitch when he locked himself up in his own head. It was like Stitch had a thousand voices in his head, and not one of them had a nice thing to say.
Pete wanted to explain that he wanted a safe word so he’d never have to say ‘no’ or ‘stop.’ It would be easier for him to say ‘rhinoceros’ than no.
And someday, he wanted to be able to call Stitch by his proper name.
“I’m sorry, Pete,” Stitch murmured into Pete’s hair as he held him tight. “I’m just crazy. You know that.”
Pete laughed and dragged Stitch down for a bit of snogging before Stitch slipped inside and gently made love to Pete while whispering flowery endearments. Whatever they did, there was a sweetness to the way they made love that Pete knew was special. It was different from the horny innocence of being with Jane or the heady impulsivity of Poppy, and it certainly wasn’t like the effort that had gone into being with the easily-bored Daisy. With Stitch, Pete always felt like every sex act was layered with infinite meaning. He often didn’t understand the meaning, but he knew it was there.
“I should be taking care of these things,” Stitch continued as though there hadn’t been a twenty-minute interruption in their conversation. “I haven’t been very responsible. You know I find these things difficult to discuss. I’m sorry if you’ve felt unsafe or like I wasn’t hearing you…”
“Stitch! Are you mental?” Stitch could take anything and turn it into evidence he was a horrible person. “I’m just trying to do a better job for you and understand what you like and all.”
Stitch closed his eyes and looked pained, so Pete snuggled up to him.
“I love you, Stitch. I want to make you happy.”
“You don’t have to let me tie you up to make me happy.”
Pete was pretty sure that statement wasn’t true. Pete didn’t fully understand it, but he knew Stitch needed his games. If they went too long without someone getting spanked or tied up, Stitch got irritable and tense.
“You are the hottest guy I’ve ever met,” Pete pointed out. “It ain’t a favor. I love it when you tie me up and take care of everything…”
“Until I accidentally hurt you…”
“Then you take care of me and snuggle me and make love to me so gently. Even when things go wrong, it’s right because it’s you, Stitch.”
Pete gave Stitch a chance to respond, but he was just staring at the ceiling and looking inscrutable. It was one of Stitch’s hobbies.
“And when I get to tie you up and you let me do what I want…”
“What I want,” Stitch corrected in a flat voice.
“Let me do whatever we want because you trust me, that’s so hot. It’s crazy hot! I like what we do, Stitch. I just want to make sure I’m doing it right.”
Stitch sighed and gave Pete a tight hug.
“I’ll try harder,” Stitch promised. Pete wanted to tell Stitch he didn’t need to try quite so hard, but he couldn’t think of the right words.
Xxx
Stitch slowly grew more irritable through the week, but Pete knew better than to suggest they revisit the scene that had been interrupted. Stitch couldn’t admit that he needed his games, and he certainly could never admit that he needed to play them all the way through or they nagged at him like a loose tooth.
When Stitch ended up smashing a plate against the wall because there was a piece of broccoli fused to it, he finally admitted he was feeling “a bit wound up.”
Pete found himself slouching in front of Stitch, trying to look properly submissive. It was hard to read Stitch when he was in a state. Everything he did and said was a contradiction.
“Don’t look like a whipped puppy,” Stitch snapped. Pete jumped and awkwardly flailed his hands. He had no idea what would make it easier for Stitch to ask for the things he needed. When Stitch gave him an unexpected hug, Pete gratefully squeezed back.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Stitch sighed. “Can I tie you up?”
“Sure.”
Stitch laughed. “Not a moment’s hesitation? I worry about you.”
“Tie me up,” Pete cooed, as he pulled Stitch towards the bedroom. “I’m not worried at all.”
Xxx
Stitch used silk scarves to tie Pete’s arms and legs to the bedposts and used pillows to prop up Pete’s hips, so his arse was in the air. Stitch normally just tied Pete’s arms during their games. Pete had been waiting to see the rest of the silk scarves in use. He’d been the one to pick them out, over Stitch’s protestations. Stitch preferred cuffs with Velcro, in case Pete suddenly wanted to run away. He’d spent an hour beating himself with various paddles, whips, and cat o’nine tails to find ones that would sting, but not cause any real damage. Looking at their collection of pink and heart-shaped sex toys, no one would imagine how serious Stitch was about BDSM. When Pete had pointed out that the gear looked aimed at teenaged girls, Stitch had slowly looked Pete up and down and said, “And your point is…?”
Stitch ran his hand along Pete’s hip.
“You are so beautiful. What are you doing here?” Stitch asked.
“I love you.”
Stitch was silent as he drizzled cold lubricant between Pete’s cheeks. He moaned as Stitch slid a finger inside. Stitch stretched and massaged him until his cock was leaking onto the pillow below him. He was grateful for the silk scarf acting as a blindfold. He’d never been so spread out and vulnerable before, and when he couldn’t see, he didn’t worry so much about what he looked like.
He felt less enthusiastic about the silk scarf in his mouth.
“Say your safe word,” Stitch instructed. “I want to make sure I’ll understand it.”
Pete did as he was told, and Stitch seemed satisfied that he would recognize the word ‘rhinoceros’ even through a gag.
“I need you to be as quiet as you can for as long as you can.” Stitch spoke quietly as he ran the leather strap over Pete’s back and arse. The material was soft and smooth, and it was Pete’s favorite of Stitch’s toys. It was a toy Stitch had purchased for himself, so it was real leather and capable of doing real damage. Stitch was careful when he used it on Pete and swore he’d never used it with Charles and remained a bit vague on the details of why he owned it. The idea of Stitch getting freaky with himself was hot, but the idea that he was using it to hurt himself was upsetting.
Stitch pulled Pete back a little, so his cock was no longer on the pile of pillows and the scarves pulled at his wrists. He ran the soft leather over Pete’s cock as he slid two fingers back inside Pete’s arse. Pete tried to rub his cock against the sheets below him, but he couldn’t move, as his current position gave him no leverage. Pete grunted in surprise at the first blow, but he was able to be quiet for the next three.
“Good boy,” Stitch quietly repeated as he ran his hands over Pete’s stinging flesh. He flinched as Stitch kissed his stinging arse, and his five o’clock shadow poked and scratched the abused flesh. Pete moaned loudly as Stitch’s tongue pushed inside Pete’s entrance. Sweat was already forming on his brow, and he was pretty certain they had barely begun the game.
He forgot to be quiet for the next four blows, but he got back on track with a little prompting from Stitch. He took five strikes in silence before he began begging Stitch to fuck him, his words made indecipherable by the gag.
“You have to be patient,” Stitch said with a quiet authority. “You have to be a good boy.”
Pete was not a patient person, nor was he a good boy. He wasn’t a bad boy, he was just an impulsive and horny guy who made some dodgy choices.
A powerful strike made Pete flail ineffectively in an effort to move away from the belt.
Stitch again ran the soft leather against Pete’s cock.
“That feels so good,” Pete whimpered through the gag. “I want you inside me.”
“You have to be patient,” Stitch tutted. He delivered two more blows before running his lips over Pete’s arse. “I’m going to fuck you. When I’m ready.”
Pete was surprised by a pressure against his opening. He didn’t recognize the toy being pressed inside him. It was bigger than Stitch normally favored, but it wasn’t much bigger than Stitch’s cock. Stitch worked the toy slowly in and out of Pete’s arse between blows. It had an odd, bumpy texture that Pete found intriguing. He wasn’t sure if it felt good, but it made Pete want to squirm. He tried not to moan, but it was impossible to remain quiet. Rather than scold him, Stitch stroked the toy harder and faster. Pete was ready to come when Stitch removed the toy all together.
“You don’t come until I tell you to come,” Stitch announced. “You need some self-control.”
Pete groaned and shifted his hips.
He tried to beg for more, but his words were muffled and distorted by the gag.
The next blow made Pete cry out in surprise, more than anything. He’d reached the point of being so keyed up that pleasure and pain took a backseat to an overarching need that he barely understood. His overstimulated brain just needed more of whatever it was that Stitch had to give. It took two more blows for Pete to register that Stitch was using a new toy. The cat o’nine tales slapped at the inside of his thighs, as well as his buttocks. Pete whined when a knotted end hit entirely too close to his already tender opening.
“You like this toy, don’t you?” Stitch purred as he again slipped a toy inside Pete. This time, he noticed the “tails” brushing his thighs as Stitch worked the toy in and out and realized it was the handle of the cat o’nine tails. Stitch had once commented on the phallic shape of the handle, but he’d never actually tried it on Pete before.
When Stitch resumed the whipping, Pete rubbed his face into the sheets and tried not to cry out loud. The pain was tolerable, but he was getting the feeling that sometimes came with a particularly good session: that he was about to break into a million pieces, and that there weren’t enough scarves in the world to hold him together. He felt primal and vulnerable and filled with a need he barely understood, but that revolved heavily around Stitch.
“Please,” he sobbed into the bed sheet.
“Say your safe word,” Stitch instructed as he delivered a light smack to the inside of Pete’s thighs. “That’s what it’s for.”
Pete closed his mouth around the gag and remained as quiet as possible. Stitch delivered a few more blows before he stopped and said, “Oh, Pete Sweet.”
Pete knew from his tone of voice that Stitch had found whatever he was looking for. He tried to relax his body, but he was still in too awkward a position to properly move. Stitch rearranged the pillows until Pete could comfortably lie on his stomach. Stitch was gentle as he draped himself over Pete’s body. Pete’s rear and thighs were burning and stinging, and he gasped as Stitch entered him. Stitch kept his movements slow and gentle until Pete was forced to beg for more through the silken gag. Stitch deftly untied the scarf and Pete was free to beg to be fucked hard and fast and to keep on begging until he felt Stitch coming inside of him. He felt wrung out and barely able to move as Stitch untied him and pulled him into a half embrace. Stitch kissed his face and smoothed his hair while Pete slowly dragged the blindfold from his eyes. It was drenched with tears and sweat.
“That was intense,” Pete observed, not knowing what else to say.
“Are you okay?” Stitch asked as he cleaned Pete’s face with a corner of the bed sheet. “Can I get you anything?”
Pete shook his head and shoved his face into Stitch’s sweaty chest and inhaled his scent. Stitch chuckled and kept stroking Pete’s hair as Pete tried to shake the pins and needles out of his arms.
“Was that too much?” Stitch asked as he rubbed Pete’s arms with his big, warm hands.
It was rare that Pete was at a loss for words, but he was having trouble working his tongue. He didn’t realize he was thirsty until Stitch put a glass of water to his lips. Pete remained a ragdoll as Stitch petted and cared for him and rubbed a soothing balm into his reddened skin.
“Is this aftercare?” Pete asked when his tongue had returned to normal size.
Stitch laughed and ruffled Pete’s hair. “I suppose. I don’t know much about the terminology.”
“I thought you knew about everything.”
Stitch laughed again. “You have a way of overestimating me, Pete Sweet. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it.”
“What did you and Charles do for aftercare?” Pete asked. He felt relaxed to the point of being boneless and at ease asking a question he normally wouldn’t have dared. That was one of the perks of Stitch’s games: they made Pete feel more relaxed with Stitch than he ever did in their normal lives.
Stitch’s face tensed, but he answered the question.
“We didn’t switch off. Charles was always the dom. I don’t think it’s normal to switch like we do…” Pete grabbed Stitch’s hand and kissed it. Stitch gave a small smile and continued. “I think most people like one or the other, but… So Charles and I would usually make love after…” Stitch waved towards the bed, as if to indicate the concept of BDSM. “But it was a bit weird, because it usually hurt as bad as anything that we did before, and I usually didn’t get off so it never really felt like the game ended. Then we just smoked cigarettes and talked about bullshit.”
“I hate Charlie so much.”
Stitch laughed again and caressed Pete’s face with his pale and elegant hands. Pete thought they looked like proper writer hands. “You have a big heart, Pete Sweet. Now, what would you like? Do you want me to suck you off? Do you want to fuck me? Tell me what you’d like.”
Pete went from half-hard to full mast at Stitch’s words. If Pete didn’t get off during their “play time,” Stitch always waited a while after to offer to take care of Pete’s needs. In light of what Stitch had just revealed about Charles, it made sense, and it made Pete want to punch Charlie for not appreciating what he had in Stitch. Pete gave Stitch a lingering kiss before answering, “Your mouth.”
Stitch always gave the most amazing blowjobs. He had a wide mouth, a well-controlled gag reflex, and trick of humming, so that Pete’s whole body vibrated along with his dick. Pete’s skin was still sore and stinging as he rolled onto his back, but the promise of a blowie made it more than worth the discomfort. Pete stroked the soft curls on Stitch’s head as his partner kissed the inside of his thighs and mouthed his testicles before taking Pete’s cock in his hand and licking the tip. Pete had to fight the urge to buck his hips as Stitch slowly wet his entire cock before sliding it down his throat. He wanted to make it last, but he was worn out physically and emotionally, and as soon as Stitch began humming, it was all over. Pete clutched at Stitch’s hair and came down his throat and immediately started sobbing. Stitch didn’t ask questions; he just held Pete and stroked his hair until he fell asleep.
Xxx
Pete woke in the middle of the night to find himself alone. He felt raw and vulnerable and filled with dread. He stumbled around and found one of his shirts and a pair of Stitch’s pajama bottoms and went in search of his partner. There were plenty of reasons for Stitch to be out of bed, but Pete’s senses were tingling.
He found Stitch at his laptop. He jumped when Pete said, “All right?”
Then he closed his browser.
“What’s wrong, Stitch?” Pete asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to throw himself into Stitch’s arms and feel safe, but something held him back. Waking up alone was awful, but actually being pushed away in his current state would be unbearable.
“Why do you think something’s wrong?” Stitch asked with a look of pure curiosity. Sometimes the way Stitch stared at him made Pete feel like an alien. It was like he and Stitch were literally from different worlds.
“You’re awake and jumpy instead of asleep. Something’s wrong.”
Stitch shook his head, as though astounded by Pete’s simple statement.
“I was looking at flats. I was thinking I should move out.”
Pete gingerly sat down hard on a nearby bench. His arse and the back of his legs were still burning. “You’re chucking me?”
Stitch’s face closed, and his tone became unbearably neutral. “I’ve been having second thoughts about all this…”
“What did Charlie say?” Pete snapped, too angry to care about whether his question would set Stitch off.
“I am capable of making my own decisions. I’m not Charles’s puppet,” Stitch replied through clenched teeth.
“Charles is always there, whispering in your ear and telling you not to be happy. He wants you to be miserable, so he can play his stupid games with you. Why can’t you see that?” Pete cried as a panicky feeling filled his body. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but apparently it hadn’t been long enough for the effects of their game to wear off. Pete’s ability to control himself and tiptoe around Stitch’s mood was somewhere down the hall, still tied up with a silk scarf. “Why do you let him have all this power over you, when he’s just some arsehole who looks good in a suit? You can’t go back to him!”
Instead of yelling back, Stitch stared at his feet.
“It isn’t about Charles. This is about us…”
Pete couldn’t tolerate Stitch’s even tone. It was infuriating.
“You can’t just break up with me after I let you…” Pete flailed his arms as he tried to think of the words for what they had done. “You can’t put me through that and leave!”
He immediately regretted his wording as Stitch’s face grew colder, but Pete wasn’t about to give up without a fight.
“I don’t understand all the things that you need, Henry, but I try. I try to hear what you say, and I try to understand the things you don’t say out loud, and I do things that are well scary, like being all tied up with my bony ass in the air, and… I don’t know how to talk about this stuff, but that was scary, and I did it for you!”
Stitch put his face in his hands and sighed. “Don’t you even wonder why you do these things for me?”
“Because I love you, you idiot! Because I want you to see you the way I see you.”
“As someone who needs to tie you up and hurt you?”
“As someone I can trust to tie me up and not hurt me, not for real. I know Charlie did things to you when you were too pissed and high to think straight or when you were passed out and it didn’t matter if you wanted to say yes or no, ‘cause you couldn’t say anything at all. That’s what Charlie does. You’re not like that. You can like some of his games, but that doesn’t make you him. You’re a good person, Henry. Charlie is just an arsehole with a lot of money.”
Pete felt shaken after his speech, but he waited quietly for Stitch to respond. His backside was killing him, but he fought the urge to squirm in his chair (doubly difficult because he was a squirmer by nature).
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Daisy…”
“She stole my imaginary girlfriend!” Pete yelled. “You think I really want to be with someone like that? She’s crazier than I am.”
Stitch gave a weak smile and said, “But women…”
Pete flinched in pain as he stood up too quickly, and he saw Stitch register his discomfort by sinking into his chair and looking defeated. Pete dropped to his knees in front of Stitch and took his hands. He wished his kinky-sex-loosened tongue was a bit more eloquent.
“I know when Charlie cheated on you, he pretended it was because he wanted to be with women or because it was somehow your fault, but the truth is, he’s just a bad person, Stitch. He’s selfish and cruel. And a dick.”
Stitch gently ran his fingers along the side of Pete’s face. “But you must miss something.”
“Do you miss being with Charles?”
Stitch frowned and looked away, while Pete told himself not to look or act upset. He didn’t know how to lock down his expression like Stitch.
“There are… things I miss,” Stitch admitted after a painful period of silence. “I don’t want to miss those things, but I do.”
“What do you need, Stitch? You don’t have to protect me. Just tell me what you want, and we’ll make it work.”
Pete allowed himself to be mollified with a hug, because he desperately wanted to be comforted. Losing Stitch would be painful; losing Stitch to Charles would be unbearable.
“I’m just in a mood,” Stitch murmured into Pete’s ear. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I love you so much it’s scary. I was just… shaken up.”
Pete kissed Stitch and told him he was handsome and brilliant and every other word that came to mind, and when his limited vocabulary came up short, he tried to drive the point home with a near-worshipful blowjob.
As Stitch led him back to their bedroom with the promise of “returning the favor,” Pete could still see the tension and worry in Stitch’s face and body.
Once they were back in the bedroom and Stitch was lasciviously groping Pete through the borrowed pajama bottoms, Pete still couldn’t stop his wagging tongue. “If you want someone else, then go ahead and leave me, Henry, but don’t ever think for a second that you aren’t the best, most amazing thing that ever happened to me.”
Pete ended up topping Stitch, who was still sated from his earlier blowjob but nonetheless gave an appreciative moan for every thrust of Pete’s cock. After he came, Stitch held him in place.
“I love having you inside me,” Stitch sighed.
Pete thought about how sweetly Stitch had cared for him after their game, and wondered if he had missed a chance to offer Stitch a bit of aftercare. He would have to be more vigilant in the future. Whatever it was that Stitch got from their games, he was deeply affected by them, regardless of whether he was submissive or dominant. If Pete didn’t want to be dumped every time things got intense, he would have to get better at seeing the signs ahead of time.
“Are you hungry?” Pete asked when Stitch finally let him go. “I could make you one of my famous sandwiches or some pancakes?”
Stitch smiled, but shook his head.
“I love your cooking, but I’m so tired. Let’s just… spoon.”
Pete smiled at Stitch’s discomfort with the word.
“Sounds good, Henry,” Pete agreed as he snuggled into Stitch’s arms. He could hear the wheels in Stitch’s head grinding, but Pete was too tired to talk.
“What do you think of these shoes?” Daisy asked as she displayed her elegant sling-back pumps.
“Genius!” Pete answered with genuine enthusiasm. He loved over-the-top fashions, and Daisy was the queen. She had always had a distinctive style, but now that she was considering herself an actress, she had gone old-school Hollywood in a big way, and it was amazing. She wore enormous hats and carried fancy handbags and generally looked like a living legend. Sometimes she was confused for a man in drag, but Daisy was fashionable enough to recognize it as a compliment.
“Gay best friends are simply the best!” Daisy squealed. “So much better than a boyfriend, really. We can gossip, go shopping, have picnics…”
“We did those things when we were dating,” Pete pointed out.
“Because you were totally gay and didn’t know it!”
Pete was pretty sure he hadn’t been totally gay, but it didn’t seem worth arguing about. He couldn’t imagine being with anyone other than Stitch. Everyone, even the magnificent Daisy, paled in comparison.
“I had my suspicions,” Daisy continued. “Remember how you always wanted me to do the thing…”
Daisy made an obscene gesture, and Pete blushed. As much as he liked Daisy, he’d already been head over heels for the seemingly unreachable Stitch when they were dating. He had never intended to use Daisy to prepare him for sex with Stitch, but he had to admit she’d been a big help.
“So, how’s the kinky sex?”
Pete shushed her before whispering, “Everything is great, but…”
“What’s wrong, darling? Is he not listening to your safe word? Is it the aftercare? Aftercare is soooooo important. Is he keeping it SSC? Safe, sane, and consensual? I wasn’t going to mention the bruises on your wrist…”
Pete looked at his bruised and reddened wrist. “Actually, that’s from the leashes…”
Daisy squealed in delight.
“The puppy leashes. I had their leashes on one arm so I could carry my groceries, and they went mental…”
“Pete, you are avoiding the subject.”
Daisy looked so stern, Pete suddenly forget what they were talking about.
“What subject?”
“Stitch tying you up and playing with you.”
“I don’t think I said he tied me up…”
Daisy shrugged. “I’m making inferences.”
“It’s just… What’s aftercare?”
Daisy always got excited when it was her turn to explain something, and this was no exception.
“Aftercare is the time you spend after playing, where you reconnect, support one another, talk about what happened. You might want to cuddle and be romantic. Gel reads me poetry after a session, and it is so beautiful… The idea is beautiful, not the poetry. The poetry is absolute rubbish.”
Pete’s heart was pounding in his chest. He had no idea what Daisy was talking about. He didn’t even know a poem by heart. Maybe a limerick or two, but nothing that would impress Stitch.
“What’s a safe word?” he asked. When Charles talked about sex with Stitch, he used words that Pete didn’t know, and it made Pete feel childish and inexperienced. Now he wondered what harm he might be doing to Stitch, in his ignorance.
He kept making Daisy repeat herself as his thoughts swirled. He was having trouble hearing through his worries.
“You’re worrying too much,” Daisy sighed. “It’s really up to Stitch, as the dom, to handle all these things.”
Pete had a feeling Daisy was wrong, but he hesitated to argue with her. He couldn’t correct her assumption that Stitch was always the one doing the dominating. For one thing, she wouldn’t believe him any more than she believed he wasn’t always the bottom. For a woman who had dated an imaginary woman, Daisy could be oddly black and white in her thinking.
If Daisy thought it was weird for Stitch to be submissive to Pete, then it was probably something that troubled Stitch. He was entirely too worried about what ordinary people thought about him. Stitch acted like he had no idea he was special and like he needed to be more like the people around him, instead of the other way round.
Xxx
Pete giggled as he fell back hard onto the bed.
“You think this is funny?” Stitch asked with a barely repressed smile. “This is serious business.”
Stitch easily rolled Pete over and gave him a smack on the rear. Pete watched as Stitch carefully attached the wrist cuffs.
“Too tight? Too loose?” Stitch asked, as always.
“Perfect. Just the way I like it.”
Stitch kissed him tenderly before moving behind Pete and pushing his legs apart.
“I’m going to need you to lie very still and be a good boy.”
Pete blushed as Stitch ran his hands over Pete’s body and made appreciative noises and giggled when Stitch slipped a blindfold over his eyes. He enjoyed the blindfold. It made it easier to forget to be self-conscious when he couldn’t see Stitch’s shifting eyes taking in every detail of everything around him.
“Get on your knees,” Stitch quietly ordered. “Arch your back.”
Pete did as he was told and Stitch ran a finger along his backbone, down to Pete’s arse. Stitch stroked his finger around Pete’s entrance before replacing his finger with his tongue. Pete’s arms shook as Stitch’s thick tongue lapped at his sensitive skin and occasionally penetrated the tight ring of muscle.
“Keep still.”
There was nothing harsh about Stitch’s tone, but it carried authority. Pete tried to stay still as Stitch tongued him, but it was at once too much and not nearly enough.
“I want you, Stitch.”
“You want my cock?”
“Oh, yes. I want your cock inside me. Now. Please.”
Stitch took his time, drizzling lubricant over Pete’s back and thighs and massaging him, while only occasionally pushing his fingers inside. If Pete’s hands had been free, he would have stretched himself to move things along, but all he could do was spread his legs as wide as possible and hope Stitch would hurry up.
“Please, Stitch.”
Stitch chuckled. “So impatient.”
Pete scooted away from something cold against his arse before he realized it was a toy. He struggled to stay still as Stitch slipped something hard and a little cold inside of him. Stitch quickly found Pete’s prostate and used painfully slow movements of the toy to stroke Pete from the inside.
“Oh, Stitch. Now, please.”
“Patience is a virtue,” was Stitch’s only response to Pete’s begging, other than the occasional spank on the rear.
Pete moaned as he felt a light vibration deep inside of him. Stitch slowly increased the speed of the vibration until it suddenly went from amazing to uncomfortable. Pete tried to move away, but because of his cuffed hands, he ended up falling awkwardly on his face.
Stitch immediately freed one of Pete’s hands.
“Are you okay? Did that hurt?”
Pete felt embarrassed. It was simple to tell Stitch what he liked in bed. What he didn’t like wasn’t so easy to convey.
“Maybe we should have a safe word,” Pete suggested as Stitch removed his blindfold just in time for Pete to see the look of horror on his face.
“What? Pete, you can always tell me when you don’t want to do something. I would never try to push you into something…”
“I know that, Stitch!” Pete tried to wipe the worry lines from Stitch’s face. “It’s just a word I could use…”
“You don’t have to explain,” Stitch promised. “I should have thought about it. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mean anything by it…” But Stitch had shifted into his unreachable state. Pete couldn’t catch his eye.
“It should be a word you won’t ever say during sex, like rhinoceros or… Henry.”
Pete had no response, but Stitch quickly apologized for being “a dick.” Pete couldn’t keep up with Stitch when he locked himself up in his own head. It was like Stitch had a thousand voices in his head, and not one of them had a nice thing to say.
Pete wanted to explain that he wanted a safe word so he’d never have to say ‘no’ or ‘stop.’ It would be easier for him to say ‘rhinoceros’ than no.
And someday, he wanted to be able to call Stitch by his proper name.
“I’m sorry, Pete,” Stitch murmured into Pete’s hair as he held him tight. “I’m just crazy. You know that.”
Pete laughed and dragged Stitch down for a bit of snogging before Stitch slipped inside and gently made love to Pete while whispering flowery endearments. Whatever they did, there was a sweetness to the way they made love that Pete knew was special. It was different from the horny innocence of being with Jane or the heady impulsivity of Poppy, and it certainly wasn’t like the effort that had gone into being with the easily-bored Daisy. With Stitch, Pete always felt like every sex act was layered with infinite meaning. He often didn’t understand the meaning, but he knew it was there.
“I should be taking care of these things,” Stitch continued as though there hadn’t been a twenty-minute interruption in their conversation. “I haven’t been very responsible. You know I find these things difficult to discuss. I’m sorry if you’ve felt unsafe or like I wasn’t hearing you…”
“Stitch! Are you mental?” Stitch could take anything and turn it into evidence he was a horrible person. “I’m just trying to do a better job for you and understand what you like and all.”
Stitch closed his eyes and looked pained, so Pete snuggled up to him.
“I love you, Stitch. I want to make you happy.”
“You don’t have to let me tie you up to make me happy.”
Pete was pretty sure that statement wasn’t true. Pete didn’t fully understand it, but he knew Stitch needed his games. If they went too long without someone getting spanked or tied up, Stitch got irritable and tense.
“You are the hottest guy I’ve ever met,” Pete pointed out. “It ain’t a favor. I love it when you tie me up and take care of everything…”
“Until I accidentally hurt you…”
“Then you take care of me and snuggle me and make love to me so gently. Even when things go wrong, it’s right because it’s you, Stitch.”
Pete gave Stitch a chance to respond, but he was just staring at the ceiling and looking inscrutable. It was one of Stitch’s hobbies.
“And when I get to tie you up and you let me do what I want…”
“What I want,” Stitch corrected in a flat voice.
“Let me do whatever we want because you trust me, that’s so hot. It’s crazy hot! I like what we do, Stitch. I just want to make sure I’m doing it right.”
Stitch sighed and gave Pete a tight hug.
“I’ll try harder,” Stitch promised. Pete wanted to tell Stitch he didn’t need to try quite so hard, but he couldn’t think of the right words.
Xxx
Stitch slowly grew more irritable through the week, but Pete knew better than to suggest they revisit the scene that had been interrupted. Stitch couldn’t admit that he needed his games, and he certainly could never admit that he needed to play them all the way through or they nagged at him like a loose tooth.
When Stitch ended up smashing a plate against the wall because there was a piece of broccoli fused to it, he finally admitted he was feeling “a bit wound up.”
Pete found himself slouching in front of Stitch, trying to look properly submissive. It was hard to read Stitch when he was in a state. Everything he did and said was a contradiction.
“Don’t look like a whipped puppy,” Stitch snapped. Pete jumped and awkwardly flailed his hands. He had no idea what would make it easier for Stitch to ask for the things he needed. When Stitch gave him an unexpected hug, Pete gratefully squeezed back.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Stitch sighed. “Can I tie you up?”
“Sure.”
Stitch laughed. “Not a moment’s hesitation? I worry about you.”
“Tie me up,” Pete cooed, as he pulled Stitch towards the bedroom. “I’m not worried at all.”
Xxx
Stitch used silk scarves to tie Pete’s arms and legs to the bedposts and used pillows to prop up Pete’s hips, so his arse was in the air. Stitch normally just tied Pete’s arms during their games. Pete had been waiting to see the rest of the silk scarves in use. He’d been the one to pick them out, over Stitch’s protestations. Stitch preferred cuffs with Velcro, in case Pete suddenly wanted to run away. He’d spent an hour beating himself with various paddles, whips, and cat o’nine tails to find ones that would sting, but not cause any real damage. Looking at their collection of pink and heart-shaped sex toys, no one would imagine how serious Stitch was about BDSM. When Pete had pointed out that the gear looked aimed at teenaged girls, Stitch had slowly looked Pete up and down and said, “And your point is…?”
Stitch ran his hand along Pete’s hip.
“You are so beautiful. What are you doing here?” Stitch asked.
“I love you.”
Stitch was silent as he drizzled cold lubricant between Pete’s cheeks. He moaned as Stitch slid a finger inside. Stitch stretched and massaged him until his cock was leaking onto the pillow below him. He was grateful for the silk scarf acting as a blindfold. He’d never been so spread out and vulnerable before, and when he couldn’t see, he didn’t worry so much about what he looked like.
He felt less enthusiastic about the silk scarf in his mouth.
“Say your safe word,” Stitch instructed. “I want to make sure I’ll understand it.”
Pete did as he was told, and Stitch seemed satisfied that he would recognize the word ‘rhinoceros’ even through a gag.
“I need you to be as quiet as you can for as long as you can.” Stitch spoke quietly as he ran the leather strap over Pete’s back and arse. The material was soft and smooth, and it was Pete’s favorite of Stitch’s toys. It was a toy Stitch had purchased for himself, so it was real leather and capable of doing real damage. Stitch was careful when he used it on Pete and swore he’d never used it with Charles and remained a bit vague on the details of why he owned it. The idea of Stitch getting freaky with himself was hot, but the idea that he was using it to hurt himself was upsetting.
Stitch pulled Pete back a little, so his cock was no longer on the pile of pillows and the scarves pulled at his wrists. He ran the soft leather over Pete’s cock as he slid two fingers back inside Pete’s arse. Pete tried to rub his cock against the sheets below him, but he couldn’t move, as his current position gave him no leverage. Pete grunted in surprise at the first blow, but he was able to be quiet for the next three.
“Good boy,” Stitch quietly repeated as he ran his hands over Pete’s stinging flesh. He flinched as Stitch kissed his stinging arse, and his five o’clock shadow poked and scratched the abused flesh. Pete moaned loudly as Stitch’s tongue pushed inside Pete’s entrance. Sweat was already forming on his brow, and he was pretty certain they had barely begun the game.
He forgot to be quiet for the next four blows, but he got back on track with a little prompting from Stitch. He took five strikes in silence before he began begging Stitch to fuck him, his words made indecipherable by the gag.
“You have to be patient,” Stitch said with a quiet authority. “You have to be a good boy.”
Pete was not a patient person, nor was he a good boy. He wasn’t a bad boy, he was just an impulsive and horny guy who made some dodgy choices.
A powerful strike made Pete flail ineffectively in an effort to move away from the belt.
Stitch again ran the soft leather against Pete’s cock.
“That feels so good,” Pete whimpered through the gag. “I want you inside me.”
“You have to be patient,” Stitch tutted. He delivered two more blows before running his lips over Pete’s arse. “I’m going to fuck you. When I’m ready.”
Pete was surprised by a pressure against his opening. He didn’t recognize the toy being pressed inside him. It was bigger than Stitch normally favored, but it wasn’t much bigger than Stitch’s cock. Stitch worked the toy slowly in and out of Pete’s arse between blows. It had an odd, bumpy texture that Pete found intriguing. He wasn’t sure if it felt good, but it made Pete want to squirm. He tried not to moan, but it was impossible to remain quiet. Rather than scold him, Stitch stroked the toy harder and faster. Pete was ready to come when Stitch removed the toy all together.
“You don’t come until I tell you to come,” Stitch announced. “You need some self-control.”
Pete groaned and shifted his hips.
He tried to beg for more, but his words were muffled and distorted by the gag.
The next blow made Pete cry out in surprise, more than anything. He’d reached the point of being so keyed up that pleasure and pain took a backseat to an overarching need that he barely understood. His overstimulated brain just needed more of whatever it was that Stitch had to give. It took two more blows for Pete to register that Stitch was using a new toy. The cat o’nine tales slapped at the inside of his thighs, as well as his buttocks. Pete whined when a knotted end hit entirely too close to his already tender opening.
“You like this toy, don’t you?” Stitch purred as he again slipped a toy inside Pete. This time, he noticed the “tails” brushing his thighs as Stitch worked the toy in and out and realized it was the handle of the cat o’nine tails. Stitch had once commented on the phallic shape of the handle, but he’d never actually tried it on Pete before.
When Stitch resumed the whipping, Pete rubbed his face into the sheets and tried not to cry out loud. The pain was tolerable, but he was getting the feeling that sometimes came with a particularly good session: that he was about to break into a million pieces, and that there weren’t enough scarves in the world to hold him together. He felt primal and vulnerable and filled with a need he barely understood, but that revolved heavily around Stitch.
“Please,” he sobbed into the bed sheet.
“Say your safe word,” Stitch instructed as he delivered a light smack to the inside of Pete’s thighs. “That’s what it’s for.”
Pete closed his mouth around the gag and remained as quiet as possible. Stitch delivered a few more blows before he stopped and said, “Oh, Pete Sweet.”
Pete knew from his tone of voice that Stitch had found whatever he was looking for. He tried to relax his body, but he was still in too awkward a position to properly move. Stitch rearranged the pillows until Pete could comfortably lie on his stomach. Stitch was gentle as he draped himself over Pete’s body. Pete’s rear and thighs were burning and stinging, and he gasped as Stitch entered him. Stitch kept his movements slow and gentle until Pete was forced to beg for more through the silken gag. Stitch deftly untied the scarf and Pete was free to beg to be fucked hard and fast and to keep on begging until he felt Stitch coming inside of him. He felt wrung out and barely able to move as Stitch untied him and pulled him into a half embrace. Stitch kissed his face and smoothed his hair while Pete slowly dragged the blindfold from his eyes. It was drenched with tears and sweat.
“That was intense,” Pete observed, not knowing what else to say.
“Are you okay?” Stitch asked as he cleaned Pete’s face with a corner of the bed sheet. “Can I get you anything?”
Pete shook his head and shoved his face into Stitch’s sweaty chest and inhaled his scent. Stitch chuckled and kept stroking Pete’s hair as Pete tried to shake the pins and needles out of his arms.
“Was that too much?” Stitch asked as he rubbed Pete’s arms with his big, warm hands.
It was rare that Pete was at a loss for words, but he was having trouble working his tongue. He didn’t realize he was thirsty until Stitch put a glass of water to his lips. Pete remained a ragdoll as Stitch petted and cared for him and rubbed a soothing balm into his reddened skin.
“Is this aftercare?” Pete asked when his tongue had returned to normal size.
Stitch laughed and ruffled Pete’s hair. “I suppose. I don’t know much about the terminology.”
“I thought you knew about everything.”
Stitch laughed again. “You have a way of overestimating me, Pete Sweet. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it.”
“What did you and Charles do for aftercare?” Pete asked. He felt relaxed to the point of being boneless and at ease asking a question he normally wouldn’t have dared. That was one of the perks of Stitch’s games: they made Pete feel more relaxed with Stitch than he ever did in their normal lives.
Stitch’s face tensed, but he answered the question.
“We didn’t switch off. Charles was always the dom. I don’t think it’s normal to switch like we do…” Pete grabbed Stitch’s hand and kissed it. Stitch gave a small smile and continued. “I think most people like one or the other, but… So Charles and I would usually make love after…” Stitch waved towards the bed, as if to indicate the concept of BDSM. “But it was a bit weird, because it usually hurt as bad as anything that we did before, and I usually didn’t get off so it never really felt like the game ended. Then we just smoked cigarettes and talked about bullshit.”
“I hate Charlie so much.”
Stitch laughed again and caressed Pete’s face with his pale and elegant hands. Pete thought they looked like proper writer hands. “You have a big heart, Pete Sweet. Now, what would you like? Do you want me to suck you off? Do you want to fuck me? Tell me what you’d like.”
Pete went from half-hard to full mast at Stitch’s words. If Pete didn’t get off during their “play time,” Stitch always waited a while after to offer to take care of Pete’s needs. In light of what Stitch had just revealed about Charles, it made sense, and it made Pete want to punch Charlie for not appreciating what he had in Stitch. Pete gave Stitch a lingering kiss before answering, “Your mouth.”
Stitch always gave the most amazing blowjobs. He had a wide mouth, a well-controlled gag reflex, and trick of humming, so that Pete’s whole body vibrated along with his dick. Pete’s skin was still sore and stinging as he rolled onto his back, but the promise of a blowie made it more than worth the discomfort. Pete stroked the soft curls on Stitch’s head as his partner kissed the inside of his thighs and mouthed his testicles before taking Pete’s cock in his hand and licking the tip. Pete had to fight the urge to buck his hips as Stitch slowly wet his entire cock before sliding it down his throat. He wanted to make it last, but he was worn out physically and emotionally, and as soon as Stitch began humming, it was all over. Pete clutched at Stitch’s hair and came down his throat and immediately started sobbing. Stitch didn’t ask questions; he just held Pete and stroked his hair until he fell asleep.
Xxx
Pete woke in the middle of the night to find himself alone. He felt raw and vulnerable and filled with dread. He stumbled around and found one of his shirts and a pair of Stitch’s pajama bottoms and went in search of his partner. There were plenty of reasons for Stitch to be out of bed, but Pete’s senses were tingling.
He found Stitch at his laptop. He jumped when Pete said, “All right?”
Then he closed his browser.
“What’s wrong, Stitch?” Pete asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to throw himself into Stitch’s arms and feel safe, but something held him back. Waking up alone was awful, but actually being pushed away in his current state would be unbearable.
“Why do you think something’s wrong?” Stitch asked with a look of pure curiosity. Sometimes the way Stitch stared at him made Pete feel like an alien. It was like he and Stitch were literally from different worlds.
“You’re awake and jumpy instead of asleep. Something’s wrong.”
Stitch shook his head, as though astounded by Pete’s simple statement.
“I was looking at flats. I was thinking I should move out.”
Pete gingerly sat down hard on a nearby bench. His arse and the back of his legs were still burning. “You’re chucking me?”
Stitch’s face closed, and his tone became unbearably neutral. “I’ve been having second thoughts about all this…”
“What did Charlie say?” Pete snapped, too angry to care about whether his question would set Stitch off.
“I am capable of making my own decisions. I’m not Charles’s puppet,” Stitch replied through clenched teeth.
“Charles is always there, whispering in your ear and telling you not to be happy. He wants you to be miserable, so he can play his stupid games with you. Why can’t you see that?” Pete cried as a panicky feeling filled his body. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but apparently it hadn’t been long enough for the effects of their game to wear off. Pete’s ability to control himself and tiptoe around Stitch’s mood was somewhere down the hall, still tied up with a silk scarf. “Why do you let him have all this power over you, when he’s just some arsehole who looks good in a suit? You can’t go back to him!”
Instead of yelling back, Stitch stared at his feet.
“It isn’t about Charles. This is about us…”
Pete couldn’t tolerate Stitch’s even tone. It was infuriating.
“You can’t just break up with me after I let you…” Pete flailed his arms as he tried to think of the words for what they had done. “You can’t put me through that and leave!”
He immediately regretted his wording as Stitch’s face grew colder, but Pete wasn’t about to give up without a fight.
“I don’t understand all the things that you need, Henry, but I try. I try to hear what you say, and I try to understand the things you don’t say out loud, and I do things that are well scary, like being all tied up with my bony ass in the air, and… I don’t know how to talk about this stuff, but that was scary, and I did it for you!”
Stitch put his face in his hands and sighed. “Don’t you even wonder why you do these things for me?”
“Because I love you, you idiot! Because I want you to see you the way I see you.”
“As someone who needs to tie you up and hurt you?”
“As someone I can trust to tie me up and not hurt me, not for real. I know Charlie did things to you when you were too pissed and high to think straight or when you were passed out and it didn’t matter if you wanted to say yes or no, ‘cause you couldn’t say anything at all. That’s what Charlie does. You’re not like that. You can like some of his games, but that doesn’t make you him. You’re a good person, Henry. Charlie is just an arsehole with a lot of money.”
Pete felt shaken after his speech, but he waited quietly for Stitch to respond. His backside was killing him, but he fought the urge to squirm in his chair (doubly difficult because he was a squirmer by nature).
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Daisy…”
“She stole my imaginary girlfriend!” Pete yelled. “You think I really want to be with someone like that? She’s crazier than I am.”
Stitch gave a weak smile and said, “But women…”
Pete flinched in pain as he stood up too quickly, and he saw Stitch register his discomfort by sinking into his chair and looking defeated. Pete dropped to his knees in front of Stitch and took his hands. He wished his kinky-sex-loosened tongue was a bit more eloquent.
“I know when Charlie cheated on you, he pretended it was because he wanted to be with women or because it was somehow your fault, but the truth is, he’s just a bad person, Stitch. He’s selfish and cruel. And a dick.”
Stitch gently ran his fingers along the side of Pete’s face. “But you must miss something.”
“Do you miss being with Charles?”
Stitch frowned and looked away, while Pete told himself not to look or act upset. He didn’t know how to lock down his expression like Stitch.
“There are… things I miss,” Stitch admitted after a painful period of silence. “I don’t want to miss those things, but I do.”
“What do you need, Stitch? You don’t have to protect me. Just tell me what you want, and we’ll make it work.”
Pete allowed himself to be mollified with a hug, because he desperately wanted to be comforted. Losing Stitch would be painful; losing Stitch to Charles would be unbearable.
“I’m just in a mood,” Stitch murmured into Pete’s ear. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I love you so much it’s scary. I was just… shaken up.”
Pete kissed Stitch and told him he was handsome and brilliant and every other word that came to mind, and when his limited vocabulary came up short, he tried to drive the point home with a near-worshipful blowjob.
As Stitch led him back to their bedroom with the promise of “returning the favor,” Pete could still see the tension and worry in Stitch’s face and body.
Once they were back in the bedroom and Stitch was lasciviously groping Pete through the borrowed pajama bottoms, Pete still couldn’t stop his wagging tongue. “If you want someone else, then go ahead and leave me, Henry, but don’t ever think for a second that you aren’t the best, most amazing thing that ever happened to me.”
Pete ended up topping Stitch, who was still sated from his earlier blowjob but nonetheless gave an appreciative moan for every thrust of Pete’s cock. After he came, Stitch held him in place.
“I love having you inside me,” Stitch sighed.
Pete thought about how sweetly Stitch had cared for him after their game, and wondered if he had missed a chance to offer Stitch a bit of aftercare. He would have to be more vigilant in the future. Whatever it was that Stitch got from their games, he was deeply affected by them, regardless of whether he was submissive or dominant. If Pete didn’t want to be dumped every time things got intense, he would have to get better at seeing the signs ahead of time.
“Are you hungry?” Pete asked when Stitch finally let him go. “I could make you one of my famous sandwiches or some pancakes?”
Stitch smiled, but shook his head.
“I love your cooking, but I’m so tired. Let’s just… spoon.”
Pete smiled at Stitch’s discomfort with the word.
“Sounds good, Henry,” Pete agreed as he snuggled into Stitch’s arms. He could hear the wheels in Stitch’s head grinding, but Pete was too tired to talk.