Make Me

[Notes and Disclaimers]

Stefan stepped off the platform and into the train, not bothering to look around as he settled into a seat and leaned his head against the window; this last train in the wee hours of the morning was virtually empty, smudges in his peripheral vision evidencing only two other passengers, neither of whom seemed likely to approach him. He sighed softly and closed his eyes, resisting the urge to rub them; the last remnants of the make-up he'd put on earlier still adorned his skin and no doubt didn't need the help of smearing fingers to look worn. He'd left the others at the club, trusting Die to get them all home, and slipped out alone. He'd been surprised that Severin hadn't protested, but supposed that his twin had finally recognized that, as the only one of their group with anything approaching a 'real' job, Stefan was as unable to stay out until dawn as he was unwilling.

He slit his eyes open, staring unfocused at the advertisements bordering the top of the car as his thoughts echoed in the near-silence of his mind. He'd grown tired of clubbing before he was even legal; he hated to dance, wasn't all that fond of the watered drinks most places served, and was growing increasingly irritated with the unavoidable physical contact that he inevitably suffered. Severin, social butterfly that he was, couldn't understand that even the act of turning a proposition down was too much most nights, much less having to physically remove a stranger's hand from his ass; it was enough to make Stefan think longingly of his own bed and the stack of books next to it, which he looked forward to settling into - alone.

The sounds of the train were overloud in the mostly-empty compartment, the rhythmic clacking of the wheels making his head pulse. Leaning forward, Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again, shivering in the air-conditioned chill; he'd dressed for the oppressive heat of too many writhing bodies in too small a space, and he was missing having sleeves now as gooseflesh raised on his arms. Lurching to his feet, he instead gripped the pole, both hands clutching the shockingly-cold metal as he leaned his chest against it, booted feet shifting for balance as the train rocked.

Perhaps he'd had a little too much to drink after all.

Long familiarity told him that his stop was coming up, and so he loosened his hold on the bar. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see one of the smudges of the other passengers stirring as well, rising into a long line of grey that suggested a businessman heading home after a long night in the office. Stefan turned his head toward the door automatically - not even Severin broke the cardinal rule of avoiding eye contact with other passengers - and inhaled as the train began to slow, the recorded announcement just another of the sounds of the train to be tuned out.

Even accustomed as he was to the motions of the train, it caught him by surprise when the train lurched, the sudden stop of forward momentum throwing him off balance. His loosened grip flew from the pole and his fingers came up short as he grabbed again for it. He could picture his descent in his mind even as he began to drop; he wouldn't be able to get his hands under him in time to break his fall and would no doubt end up with a nasty knock to his shoulder. It was much to his surprise that he ran instead into something more forgiving than the floor, something warm and firm that gave beneath him. He came to a hard stop, but one far less painful than he'd expected, and as his head cleared, he realized that he was half-draped over the lap of the grey-clad businessman who'd been knocked back into a bench, a knee digging painfully into Stefan's spine.

"Sorry," Stefan began automatically, trying to find somewhere to put his hands to lever himself up; the awkward position left him like a landed fish, helpless and unable to reach floor or bench to push himself off the man's lap. He could feel the man's briefcase pressed against his shoulder, the corner no doubt marking the bare flesh, yet the man made no move to help him. At last, Stefan managed to get his feet beneath him enough to be able to shift and plant one hand on the edge of the seat, propelling himself awkwardly back to his feet - just in time to see the doors closing. "Shit!"

The man rose behind him, his hands moving briskly over his suit to smooth the wrinkles caused by their collision. He sighed, a note of exasperation in it that made the hairs at the back of Stefan's neck prickle. "That was my stop."

"Mine, too." Stefan jerked at the hem of his shirt, riding up from his efforts to right himself. He should be apologetic, he knew, but couldn't help resenting the man; if he'd actually helped him, they might both have been able to make it off yet, instead of being trapped until the next stop. He'd done it before, but Stefan nevertheless didn't relish the thought of walking the extra blocks to the apartment. "Thanks for your help, man."

"Be more careful in the future."

The words were icy enough to grate against Stefan's temper and he spun around, glaring into the blue eyes that met his with equal anger. "I said I was sorry!" He could feel his fingers curling into fists as his body tensed, although the man did nothing more than look at him as though he were a new and interesting sort of insect. "It was an accident! What the hell do you want? Should I be sucking your dick to make up for it?"

As one of the man's dark eyebrows rose, Stefan blinked; where in the hell had that come from? He scowled and turned his glare up a notch, lips parted to bare his teeth slightly as he held the man's gaze; he wouldn't be the first to look away, not even if he ended up riding to the end of the line and having to spring for a cab back. It was difficult, though, as the man bent, closing the distance between them until his smirking mouth was only a breath from Stefan's.

"That's the best idea I've heard in a long time."

Stefan narrowed his eyes, fingers tightening until he could feel his nails digging into the heels of his hands. He was the one who had thrown the gauntlet; to back out now would be pathetic, even if his stubborn streak would allow him to turn away from a challenge. It was that stubborn streak that now made him tilt his head back, studying the man's face as though it weighed upon his answer. He wasn't unattractive, Stefan would give him that. His eyes were a night-dark blue, his hair a dark auburn, cut short in the latest style. His mouth was wide-lipped and seemed unfamiliar to smiles, and Stefan was startled to find himself fascinated by the surprisingly-delicate arch of the man's brows.

It wasn't until the man made a sound of amusement that Stefan realized that he was kissing him, his mouth rough on the other man's. The lips against his tightened and Stefan made to pull away, only to find himself held captive by a hand at the back of his head, held steady as the man attacked his mouth, teeth claiming his lips before the man's tongue breached Stefan's mouth, as unavoidable as a force of nature. Stefan was ashamed to find himself growing aroused, even as he brought his hands to the man's shoulders and pushed, separating their bodies as much as the other man would allow. Not for the first time, Stefan cursed the genetics that had left him small-boned and slender.

"A kid like you has to have a roommate. We'll go to my place."

Stefan glared again, trying to smooth the uneven pant of his breathing as he jerked away from the man, wiping the back of his wrist over his mouth. "I'm no kid."

The man laughed, a sharp sound that made Stefan want to sink his teeth into delicate portions of his anatomy. He didn't bother arguing with Stefan's claim, instead reaching for the pole near the door, a hand at the small of Stefan's back solicitously steadying him as the train began to slow again.

They exited without incident this time and, as the man strode for the stairs, Stefan hovered on the platform, torn. He was no virgin and Severin, probably still back at the club, was hardly going to be waiting up for him - why shouldn't he go? He looked down at the toes of his boots as though they would tell him the answers, then, cursing softly under his breath, half-ran to catch up with the man. They were nearly street-level by the time Stefan managed it and he wrapped his arms around his chest to ward off the chilly night air as he stalked behind him, his eyes boring a hole between the man's shoulder.

They walked in silence, Stefan glaring at the man's back, the man ignoring Stefan entirely. They left behind the square onto which the stairs let out and, as the blocks fell behind them, the buildings grew more prestigious, carefully-manicured lawns and expensive cars overwhelming the slight scruffiness of the square. Stefan ignored it all, black thoughts swirling in his head as he followed the man for what seemed to be miles until, at last, he turned from the sidewalk and climbed the stairs leading to a looming brownstone. For the first time, Stefan tore his gaze away from the man's back, his gaze flickering with the first signs of nervousness up the building's side; he'd expected some sleek, modern apartment, yet the door that the man was now unlocking indicated that this was anything but.

Stefan swallowed thickly as he crept up the stairs, his boots clumsy on the stone. He dropped his gaze as he slid through the doorway the man held open, staring determinedly at the wood floor as he heard the sounds of the door being shut and locked behind him. The hall into which he stepped was dark, the faint light streaming through the glass inset of the door hinting at a scattering of things on the walls, a table to his right. Wary, Stefan froze until the man's hand caught his elbow, and then he found himself propelled up the stairs. They wound up two flights, the man's steps certain, Stefan's less so, until they reached the top floor and stepped into another hall. The man led him into a smaller second hall, then opened one last door, pushing Stefan into a large room.

Covering his eyes briefly as the man flicked on the lights, Stefan licked his lips and took a few small steps into the room. He lowered his hand to study his surroundings, taking in the ornate fireplace, the chairs arrayed at the far end of the room in the 'v' of the outside walls, and the bed, massive and made up with navy and cream linens. He licked his lips again, only to stiffen when the man's arms slid around him from behind, lips ghosting briefly over the bared back of his neck.

"You smell like stale cigarette smoke and other people's sweat." The man laughed shortly, then stepped around Stefan, fingers at his throat tugging loose his tie. He shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it carelessly over a chair before pulling the loosened tie free. He snapped it thoughtfully between his hands, then tossed it over the bed and turned again to Stefan. "Well? Come in."

Panic was fluttering in the back of Stefan's throat and, with effort, he forced it down; he straightened his shoulders, pride stiffening his spine as he stepped farther away from the door. "I'd hate to stink up your precious house." He unlocked his arms, instead hooking one thumb in a beltloop on his pants. "It would've been just as romantic to blow you in the toilet."

The man, to Stefan's surprise, laughed, a low sound that once again made the hair at the nape of Stefan's neck rise. "It would've," he agreed, tone deceptively mild as he prowled toward Stefan, stopping a hands-breadth shy of him and extending his arms to his side. "Do the rest."

Later, Stefan would wonder why he'd so readily obeyed the man's command, but, in the moment, his hands lifted to the buttons of the man's shirt. He was gratified to find them steady as they eased the small discs through their holes, parting the fabric to reveal bare skin beneath. As they reached the line of the man's waistband, he hooked his fingers in the fabric and tugged it free, undoing the last few buttons before his hands lifted again to push the shirt from the man's shoulders. "What's your name?"

The man's eyebrow quirked, a corner of his mouth curling with a faint smirk as he looked down at Stefan. "Christian," he said smoothly as his smirk deepened. He didn't return the question.

Stefan's mouth tightened, a frown bringing back the faint throb of headache as he blindly tossed the shirt in the direction of the chair already covered by the jacket. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears as his fingers returned to the buckle of Christian's belt, freeing the prongs from their holes and pulling the leather free, leaving it dangling from the beltloops as the tips of his fingers brushed over the tab of Christian's pants. His mouth tightened again before his pride twinged and he freed the tab, pulling the zipper down sharply.

"Easy," Christian chided, hand catching Stefan's wrist and drawing his hand away, his grip hinting at punishment. He lifted the captive limb until Stefan had to straighten and rise on his toes to keep it from being pulled painfully, grinning all the while down into the defiant look Stefan pinned turned on him.

Stefan realized that he should be afraid; the lithe frame being exposed could easily overpower his strength. Still, the grip of the man's fingers around his wrist seemed almost instead to be closed around his cock; it was stirring now, beginning to swell against the confines of his pants. His was not the only one expressing an interest, either; the 'v' of Christian's open fly gaped as his own cock hardened, straining against the exposed cotton of his briefs.

"You like this." Christian sounded neither surprised nor amused, as though he were making a clinical observation for future study. In a smooth movement, he twisted Stefan's arm behind his back, forcing their bodies together, and Stefan couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped as Christian's half-erect dick pressed against his lower belly. "Little slut. Am I even the first man you've fucked tonight?"

Stefan bared his teeth even as he arched with the twist of his arm behind his back, his own cock rubbing distractingly against Christian's thigh. He was being borne along far too quickly for his mind to keep up and could only snarl when he felt Christian's other hand curving over his groin. It was a relief when his own pants were opened, although the first touch of cool air on his bare skin was startling, enough to make him close his eyes for a moment in an attempt to center himself.

When he opened them again, Christian was looking down at him consideringly, his blue eyes narrowed. After a moment, he released Stefan, pushing him not-ungently toward the bed. "Take them off. Take everything off. Then face the bed."

Stefan's brows drew together even as he obeyed, silently stripping off his sleeveless shirt and bending to unlace his boots, kicking them off before he shimmied out of his pants and underwear. He nudged them to a side, then stood next to the bed, gazing down at the pattern of the coverlet without seeing it. Behind him, he could hear the rustle of clothing as Christian presumably finished undressing, then the opening of a door. A few moments later, it clicked shut again, the soft brush of feet over floor the only warning before the heat of Christian's palm was pressed between Stefan's shoulder blades, bending him over the bed.

Something cold nudged between Stefan's buttocks, but, before he could do more than tense, it had slid home, forcing a strangled groan from him as he was penetrated. His muscles clamped reflexively around it, but it was hard and solid, the flared base nestled firmly against the pucker of his anus. Stefan panted for a moment, remaining still even as Christian's hand left his back, then slowly straightened, only to groan again as the movement shifted the hard object within him, brushing it against the walls of the gland that made his flagging erection leap with renewed interest. Before he could question, Christian's hand was on him again, grasping his shoulder and turning him toward him.

Stefan's erection crossed Christian's as he turned, the two hard shafts sliding along each other like dueling blades. Stefan bit his lip to keep from groaning again, even as Christian's hands found his wrists and brought them behind his back. Something cool and silky feathered over his skin and Stefan remembered belatedly Christian's tie, discarded on the bed, but by then it was too late; his wrists were securely bound behind him.

Why wasn't he fighting?

Stefan didn't resist as Christian slid around him, to sit on the bed, his hands on Stefan's hips to rotate him again. He didn't need prompting to kneel, any more than he did to lean forward as Christian spread his knees. He stopped there, though, as Christian's hands moved before him, tearing open the ubiquitous foil packet and withdrawing the condom from within it. The tip of Christian's cock bumped against Stefan's chin as he rolled the rubber down the shaft of his erection, and still Stefan awaited... direction? orders? permission? He didn't have to wait more than two breaths; Christian's hands caught in his hair and guided his mouth around the straining shaft, then released him to instead brace on the mattress behind him.

Left without direction, Stefan sucked experimentally. A slight shift wrapped his lips over his teeth and he plunged his mouth to the base of Christian's shaft until his nose was buried in the dark reddish-brown curls there. He swallowed then, the muscles of his throat and tongue caressing the hard flesh in his mouth, and, for the first time, Stefan heard Christian moan. It was a heady sound, a sound that seemed to go straight to Stefan's cock as his muscles again rippled about the plug embedded within him, and he echoed it softly as he sucked his way back to the tip of Christian's shaft.

It was a guilty secret, one that he was fairly certain not even Severin knew: he loved giving head. The musky flavor, the heat, the weight against his tongue, the tickle of hair against his skin when he deep-throated, the feeling of exposure that came from baring the back of his neck to the other man, they all turned him on faster than anything. Christian, if he was being honest, was exactly the kind of man he usually went after: a little stuffy, a lot egotistical, a man who liked to be in control. Had he not snapped out the offer in his fit of pique, he might have made it anyway in the hopes of getting exactly this. Christian was a comfortable mouthful, not overly large but enough to test his limits, and Stefan could feel the thrill down his spine as his head bobbed over Christian's groin, taking more of the man with each drop.

Christian didn't moan again, but the sounds that Stefan did draw from him were no less encouraging; after the first surprised grunt, he'd tried the same trick three times more, and each time didn't fail to leave Christian with a hitch in his breath that was more erotic than any groan. Only the full stop of Christian's breathing gave Stefan aural warning as Christian's cock pulsed against his tongue, then shot its heavy load of semen into the thin rubber shield. Stefan's tongue rolled against the throbbing shaft until it had stilled again, then he pulled his mouth away, careful to keep from displacing the condom.

Above him, Christian panted for a moment, then moved just enough to peel the condom off, dropping it into the garbage can next to the bed with a grimace. He rubbed his hand absently over his cock as Stefan watched in fascination, his thumb rubbing the tip until Stefan found himself bending, lapping what fluid remained around the press of the digit. He sat back on his heels, though not without another twinge as the anal plug within him again shifted, and looked up to find Christian watching him consideringly.

"You'd let me fuck you, wouldn't you, without a rubber?" He skimmed his thumb over Stefan's lower lip, eyes widening slightly when Stefan's tongue flickered out to chase it. "Little slut." His hand caught Stefan's jaw, drawing the boy awkwardly up until he could crush his mouth over Stefan's again. His tongue charted the unfamiliar terrain within Stefan's mouth, laying claim to everything as his hands moved to draw Stefan onto the bed. It took a bit of maneuvering, but, by the time Stefan was released, Christian could push his head down to the pillows without effort, leaving Stefan's ass in the air, the tie binding his wrists dark against the skin of his back.

Stefan made a sound of surprise, but Christian ignored it as his fingers found the base of the plug, twisting it sharply. The surprise melted into a whine as Stefan's hips bucked, driving against Christian's fingers, and Christian smirked faintly as his grip firmed, drawing the plug most of the way out, only to slam it back into Stefan's body. Stefan all but howled this time, his fingers curling impotently as he turned his head to muffle his shout into the pillow, although the tense lines of his thighs quivered in anticipation.

Chuckling softly, Christian patted the upper swells of Stefan's ass, then drummed his fingers over the exposed base, drawing another faint whimper from Stefan. Moving only enough to reach the drawer of his bedside table, he withdrew a chain from within it, fingers toying with the rubber-covered tips, then settled again behind Stefan. An arm around his waist brought the boy upright with another whimper, settling him back into Christian's lap as the chain skimmed over Stefan's hip, startling his eyes open. Before he could protest, though, Christian had slid one of the ends around the small pebble of Stefan's nipple, a flick of his fingers tightening the clasp until Stefan cried out, arching his chest into the pressure. Deftly, Christian ran his hand to the other end of the chain to close it around Stefan's other nipple, then tugged the chain down until Stefan whimpered.

"Please," Stefan said softly, head lolling helplessly back against Christian's shoulder. He could feel the heat of Christian's erect cock against his fingertips and stroked fitfully, even as his hips rocked to move the plug within him. The pinch of the clamps at his nipples seemed to be blocking any thought from reaching his brain but those involving the necessity of coming, and pride had been shed with his clothes. Even with his pleas, he was surprised when Christian shifted him forward, an arm around his waist again to hold him steady as the other hand skimmed over the base of the plug, wiggling it briefly before pulling it from him in one smooth motion. Even before Stefan could keen over its loss, it had been replaced by something more yielding, something that pulsed as Stefan flexed around it, and he knew that Christian had indeed believed his earlier taunt.

"Please," Stefan said again as his thighs tensed, lifting himself slightly from Christian's cock before the drive of Christian's hips buried him fully again. Stefan wriggled mindlessly, squirming around Christian's thrusting cock until Christian took Stefan's in hand, his grip almost painfully-tight on the engorged shaft. He all but screamed as he fucked Christian's hand as Christian fucked him, as fascinated by the feel of Christian's hand enclosing his cock as he was by the plunge and withdrawal of Christian's cock within him. How long he mindlessly writhed, he didn't know, only that it seemed an eternity of build-up before he was coming, the jet of his cum blocked by the cup of Christian's hand and dribbling over his own thighs. It seemed that he came forever, spasming even when he had nothing left to give, and then he felt the heat of Christian's release filling him, the pulses of semen flooding him until it seemed almost too much.

Afterward, it was only the pressure of Christian's arm that kept him from slumping onto his face like a doll, his arms useless to support him even had they not been tied still at his back. He was dimly aware of Christian picking the knot of the tie loose, but made no effort to move his arms when they were released; the tingle of returning blood, as well as the sharp pinch at his nipples as he shifted, were not enough to overcome his satiation. He could feel Christian softening within him and sighed softly, squirming slightly until Christian sucked in a breath and pushed Stefan from his lap.

"You can take a shower before you go. You're a mess."

Stefan blinked, then nodded. He slid from the bed, then paused, bending to kiss Christian's thigh before he padded from the room. Finding himself in the hallway, he was momentarily stymied again by the featureless doors, but found the bathroom with his second attempt and soon had hot water running for a shower. Turning to find towels, he caught sight of himself in the mirror, the silver chain still draping over his chest, and paused, fascinated by the sight. Tentatively, he flicked a fingertip over one of the captive nipples, only to suck his breath in at the resulting sensation and hastily remove the clamps, leaving the chain coiled next to the sink.

The hot water was a shock, but Stefan gloried in it; the faint sting against his skin was well worth it. He washed himself quickly, scrubbing sweat and smoke and semen from his skin and hair, then dried himself brusquely before padding naked for the bedroom again.

In his absence, Christian had shifted to stretch on his side over the covers, his back to the door as he watched the night outside the window. He didn't move as Stefan reappeared, ignoring him as he approached to retrieve his clothes and donned them slowly, only acknowledging Stefan's presence with a low laugh when Stefan's breath caught at the brush of his shirt over his nipples.

"Don't worry about locking the door on your way out."

Stefan nodded, knowing that Christian wouldn't see it, and tugged tight the last lace on his boots. He slid out the door without sparing the man another glance, moving silently down the stairs until he came to the entry level. It was brighter now than when he'd come in, enough so that he had no trouble making his way to the door and slipping out into the hazy light of pre-dawn. Outside, he paused momentarily to get his bearings, then set off toward the apartment he shared with Severin, noting with some surprise that Christian's brownstone was no more than six blocks from it. It set off a confusing surge of thoughts that he spent his walk home trying to quell, and it was with some relief that he found that Severin had, in fact, made it home before him.

Severin murmured a soft complaint when Stefan squirmed into bed with him, but didn't protest his presence, making room for him and draping an arm over his twin once he'd settled. Tucked against Severin's chest, Stefan sighed softly and let sleep take him; the office would be fine without him in early that morning, and he had more than enough to think about in the meantime.

- fin -

Notes and Disclaimers

Make Me is an original work of fiction and is © Shana Gardner.

Make Me is a spin-off of a larger, as-of-yet unwritten piece. (That'd be 'Passionfruit'.) It's set prior to the timeline of the main fic, written primarily because I wanted the opportunity to write fic with toys - although they ended up with only a slight role. Also, Christian's house is my house - not the house in which I'm actually living, but the house I would've killed to be able to buy, if it weren't out of my price range by about 1.2 million. Sigh.