#real question is how did ayrien talk glen into trying this in the first place

[lisatelramor]

You Can Tie the Knot

So, my brain took a brief jaunt away from fanfic for half of October,  and while most of what came out of that is something that maybe 5 people would recognize characters to, I had my brain latch onto a Certain Image at work one day, came home, and wrote a OC  porn fic in one sitting for the first time in years. (considering how often my brain stalls on sex content and it’s rare to write ANY scene in one sitting, I was actually pretty happy about it). I’ve decided to post it here since technically I’ve posted with these characters before. This is in the same universe as my stories Still Love After and Getting On Your Nerve, but reading those  isn’t really necessary. This is literally PWP. 100% PWP. (Tho for anyone curious, Ayrien’s mentioned in Still Love After as the ‘yoga asshole,’ and has an... unhealthy relationship in Getting On Your Nerve with a different character than featured here. If anyone DID read GOYN and wondered why this fic exists, may I just say that Glen and Ayrien’s relationship is very much It’s Complicated in all aspects ^_^;;

PWP under the cut featuring shibari and BDSM themes.

Glen tied the last knot, smoothing a hand along Ayrien’s bare skin between the mesh of rope. Ayrien was trembling. He’d gotten hard before Glen was even halfway through, gone silent around when Glen got his arms tied back.

It was something Glen never thought he’d see, a quiet, compliant Ayrien, responsive to the slightest touch. He tested the give to key places, making sure nothing was too tight or loose and no blood flow would be restricted to the point of injury. Then he tugged lightly on Ayrien’s blindfold, the first thing he’d tied on his long-time friend. “How’re you doing? Still feel your fingers?”

Ayrien licked his lips, mouth opening but no sound coming out.

“Hmm, words, Ayrien. While you still can.”

Ayrien swallowed. “Good,” he said, sounding wrecked although, objectively speaking, they’d barely started yet.

“Good.” Glen pet his hair in reward, feeling his shiver. “Is it everything that you pictured so far? I’d hope it was worth learning how to tie so many knots.”

“Yes,” Ayrien said.

Glen could push for more words, but that was good enough for now. He’d spent the last half hour watching Ayrien fall into subspace and he was ready to play. “Time well spent then,” Glen said. “Just one last thing, if you’ll open up.”

Ayrien’s mouth fell open obediently. If only he listened on the average day as well as he did in the bedroom. Glen slip a ball gag into his mouth and heard Ayrien groan low around it. He tightened the strap and tested its give as he’d done with the ropes; Ayrien wouldn’t care if Glen hurt him, but the only pains Glen wanted to give were the intentional kind.

“Wonderful,” Glen said, sitting back to admire his work. For a first time trying his hand at shibari, it had come out very nicely, a pretty red lattice across Ayrien’s chest and binding his arms back before bracketing his ass and trailing down his legs, forcing him in a kneeling position. It was all the prettier a picture with a gray silk blindfold over Ayrien’s eyes and the red ball gag stopping up his mouth. Ayrien. Absolutely at his mercy. He’d had fantasies in high school like this. Well, sort of like this. Less silk rope and more kneeling at his feet.

Glen leaned on an elbow, tracing a finger down Ayrien’s side, enjoying how he twitched and moved, instinctively tugging against the rope. With that dirty-gold hair of his falling down along his collarbones it was almost unfair how good he looked. The bastard.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to gag you,” he said, hand trailing down Ayrien’s hip. “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t sexual in middle school.” He ran a hand feather-light up Ayrien’s inner thigh, enjoying the way he breathed harder. “It definitely was by the end of high school.”

Ayrien made a sound around the gag as Glen rubbed where his thigh met his pelvis. He was dripping already. Even his cock was pretty, red and rosy and sleek, only a slight upward curve to it. Hairless even to his balls because Ayrien was definitely vain enough to wax on occasion even if he pretended he wasn’t. He couldn’t use the excuse of crossdressing for casework all the time; it was definitely a preference.

“Hmm.” He dipped a finger along the bead of precum at the head of Ayrien’s cock, watched him jerk full-bodied at the touch. Because Glen was just as much of a bastard as Ayrien was, he didn’t touch him with more than a finger, fiddling with the head of his cock like it was a straw wrapped on a fast-food table, idle and seemingly thoughtless. “You know, I’m a bit of a sadist. And it’s entirely your fault. I internalized your sick sense of humor at some point.” He smiled as Ayrien squirmed. “I realized it around the time I punched you in the face of course. The biggest adrenaline rush—but of course I can’t just go around punching people in the face for fun. That just isn’t socially acceptable. I suppose neither is this to some people, but it works.” A thumb under the head, one finger tracing the other side, almost but not quite circling him.

Ayrien let out a whimper.

Glen bit his lip and adjusted his jeans. “I bet you want me to knock you around a bit now, don’t you. Make you hurt.” Ayrien was shivering, dick twitching in Glen’s hand. “I could.” Glen let go. And Ayrien swayed toward where his hand had been, another groan muffled by rubber between his lips. “But you know I’m not just that kind of sadist. You’re a social sadist. Like to watch people squirm, get angry or stressed."

Glen got to his feet, circled the pretty picture of a red faced, trembling Ayrien at his feet. “I’m not a social sadist,” he said conversationally, enjoying how Ayrien tried to tilt his head to pinpoint where Glen was. “But I do like a bit of hitting. Or course you’d like that. You like pain.” He gripped Ayrien’s hair without warning, close to his scalp and tugged upward until Ayrien was forced to strain against the ropes to relieve the strain on his neck. “And I can like how pretty a shade of red you’d turn if I spanked you. Another thing I’ve fantasized about, by the way.” Ayrien shuddered, breathing hard, body a pretty pretty line of tense muscles and bowed back and new-forming bruises as the ropes held him down. “But you know what would get me off more?”

Glen kept his grip tight, leaning down to speak in Ayrien’s ear. “Denying you.”

The desperate sound that brought was music to his ears, the tremble that much more intoxicating. He could do whatever he wanted, and oh, Ayrien would love it if he made him bleed. But people made Ayrien bleed all the time. People hurt and punched and threw Ayrien’s nastiness right back at him and Ayrien would go back for more. Glen could hurt him and he would sing beautifully with pained pleasure, but a gentle touch and the right words, he knew Ayrien would break. And Glen was always so good at taking things apart to put back together.

Glen kissed Ayrien’s cheek, jaw, down the side of his neck. One hand braced against Ayrien’s throat, just to let him know he could choke him but wouldn’t.

Glen spent so many years being the one cleaning up Ayrien’s social messes, smoothing over jagged, cruel words and playing bridge to societal sensibilities. Ayrien was an asshole and everyone thought Glen was the nice one. Perhaps at one point he was nice, or maybe he just hadn’t wanted to get in trouble with school or his parents or the police. Glen wasn’t nice. Glen watched Ayrien struggle to find middle ground as an adult and mercilessly called him out on every failure. He knew full well why Ayrien was a mess and didn’t give him any slack for it because he’d let him walk over him once, and he’d never let it happen again. He struck first and harder with words and could make Ayrien cry if he wanted to, and not in the fun way. He could blackmail him for eternity if he so chose.

He didn’t. But it wasn’t because he was nice or because they were friends. He just didn’t have any reason to do it.

Glen was just as much of a bastard as Ayrien was, so he kissed slow arcs along bruising flesh, let Ayrien try to twist and make the ropes turn actually painful. They wouldn’t be painful of course. Glen made sure of that. They’d bruise but they wouldn’t chafe. They wouldn’t leave his fingers red and aching.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Glen said. Because it was true and he only told Ayrien truths even if they cut deep. The hand not at Ayrien’s throat wandered his chest, dipping into each and every gap in the rope-work. “So pretty and perfect and having to sit and take whatever I’ll give. I thought about buying a ring gag, you know. Something to hold your mouth open so you’d have to take my cock down your throat.” Ayrien made a sound that could be a sob. His throat clenched in a swallow beneath Glen’s light grip. “Maybe sometime I’ll buy one and use it, your hands tied up so you couldn’t do anything.”

Glen licked his lips. He was so hard now, but that was part of what made this good. Of making Ayrien a mess and barely touching himself.

“Sometime I’d fuck you how you like it and make it hurt so good.” Just the hint of nails to Ayrien’s inner thigh, the scrape of teeth to the back of his neck, not biting, just enough to promise. “But not this time. Pain doesn’t make you break, Ayrien, and I want to see you broken.” Definitely a sob, and another jerk against the bonds.

Ayrien was powerless. Trapped in Glen’s hands and words and writhing under them, seeking any bit of ache he could and getting soft touch and kisses instead. His breath came in great shuddery gasps that made Glen’s own breathing pick up.

Glen touched him like he was soothing a deer, cautious and gentle. He placed kisses on Ayren’s neck and face. His beautiful collarbones where they were starting to bruise. His shuddering chest and twitching hip. His knee. His inner thigh. Right before his cock.

Glen stayed there a moment just breathing in Ayrien’s scent, and the sweat and precum and the wonderfully musky smell of an aroused man. He watched Ayrien’s cock twitch and his hips fail to get friction as Glen held him still. He watched Ayrien’s face contort beneath the blindfold and around the gag. He watched Ayrien break, tears leaking from beneath the blindfold.

He kept watching for a cruelly long time as Ayrien sobbed, just breathing against his cock.

The details were committed to memory. How many other people had seen Ayrien like this? How many had managed to make him cry? How many had done it from soft touches instead of sharp nails, or teeth or a quick fist?

Glen pushed himself up, using Ayrien’s hips as leverage to reach his face. He kissed the tear tracks gently, pressed his clothed body to Ayrien’s naked one and felt him press into the connection. “You’ve been so good,” he said. He brushed a thumb under the blindfold to chase tears away. “You listened so well for me. Now you get your reward.”

He unclipped the ball gag and it fell free from Ayrien’s gasps for breath and words spilled out. “Glen, please please god please I need you to do something touch me please please, god—” All shuddery and caught up in sobs and it was gorgeous. Glen loved and hated it all wrapped in one, bringing Ayrien to this point. It almost made him want to push him further, not just break, but shatter. That would be going too far though and Glen knew it.

He cut off Ayrien’s babble with a kiss, forcing him to accept it and Ayrien tried to kiss back, so sloppy it was almost pathetic. Glen felt like he’d finally won something over Ayrien for good. But Ayrien was still crying and Glen had promised a reward. One hand fisted in Ayrien’s hair, the other curled rough around his cock.

Ayrien keened into Glen’s mouth, head and back forced into an agonizing angle and his cock pumped too hard and fast for Glen’s personal taste. It was just the right amount of discomfort for Ayrien’s needs though because he came in less than thirty seconds of the treatment, whimpering against Glen’s lips as Glen kept touching him into overstimulation. When he finally let go, Ayrien swayed in place, breathing too hard and looking like he’d collapse if he wasn’t still tied up.

His mouth was red, his hair disheveled and sticking to his face where tears and spit made it wet. Bruises would be setting in with such a gorgeous pattern soon. And it was all at Glen’s hands. Glen let go of Ayrien’s cock to squeeze his own, not caring that he smeared cum along his pants. His other hand undid Ayrien’s blindfold.  

“Still okay?” Glen asked, rubbing away a new set of tears.

Ayrien’s eyes fluttered open, pale lashes damp and glittering. His pupils were still huge. He pressed his head into Glen’s touch like a big, affectionate cat. It was cute and ridiculous. Glen bit his lip.

“Words, Ayrien,” he reminded.

“Mm. Good,” Ayrien slurred. “…you?”

“Oh, I’m good.” He could have gotten off with a few strokes, but he’d rather wait a little longer. Maybe hold off entirely and jerk off to the memory of Ayrien sobbing. Glen shivered. Hmm, yeah, he was just as fucked up as Ayrien was, and it definitely was Ayrien’s fault. His mother always did warn him that Ayrien was a bad influence. Pity Glen never gave a fuck. “Gonna untie you now.”

Ayrien hummed, flopping forward as much as he was able, nose smooshed against Glen’s neck and shoulder. “You were mean,” he mumbled as Glen began the annoying process of un-tying all the knots he’d so carefully made.

“I’m a mean person,” Glen said. “You’re always saying it.”

“‘Killjoy’ is different than ‘mean,’” Ayrien said. He nuzzled closer and breathed Glen in. “Can’t believe you didn’t even take your clothes off.”

“Didn’t need to.” The power dynamic of being clothed while Ayrien wasn’t was also a turn on, so. Yeah. Glen was still hard, but it was cooling to a comfortable level of arousal rather than immediately needy. Which was good because Ayrien was probably still crawling back from subspace. He wasn’t usually clingy, but then they didn’t usually do anything sexual with each other.

Ayrien hummed again and let Glen maneuver him this way and that like a giant floppy ragdoll with lead weights in its extremities until he had his legs free. Ayrien whimpered when he got his legs stretched straight in front of him. His head lolled back against Glen’s shoulder as Glen went to work on his arms.

“Shit, they’re all pins and needles.”

“Well you were kneeling for ages,” Glen said. He paused to rub one leg helpfully. Ayrien’s breath caught when he thumbed over a bruise. “You also asked for it when you suggested shibari.”

“You need to tie me up again sometime,” Ayrien said. “And maybe not be so gentle.”

“Hmm, maybe,” Glen said. Truthfully, he kind of wanted to keep it to this sort of dynamic if they did this again. Let handcuffs be rough play; shibari was an art and demanded some delicacy.

It was only after Glen freed Ayrien’s arms and was halfway done with the last few knots at his chest and shoulders that Ayrien roused back to a semblance of his usual self. “Did you even come?” he asked, frowning down at Glen’s crotch where his erection had mostly subsided from the scene turning into cuddles.

“Later,” Glen said.

“But.”

Glen cut him off with a finger and a quick kiss. “Later. Later we can shower and you can suck me off. Or you can shower and I can get off in your bed and you can think of me while you’re washing.”

Ayrien actually blushed. It was hard to get him to blush, but he still didn’t expect to hear this sort of thing directed at him from Glen’s mouth. Glen would enjoy it for as long as that reaction lasted. “…more fun if I get to see you,” he said after a moment.

“Shower together it is,” Glen said.

Ayrien grinned. Glen knew he was back to normal when he gave a wink and said, “You just want to bruise my knees and shut me up. All those gag fantasies were about choking me with your cock, weren’t they?”

Glen had years of self-control not reacting to Ayrien, so he only raised an eyebrow. “Oh, some of them. Maybe someday I’ll show you some more. I might need a few more toys for some of them.”

Ayrien blinked a few times and groaned. “Ugh, why did I think you’d be different in bed than any other part of my life?”

“Wishful thinking?” Glen joked. “But you like it.” Ayrien liked Glen not taking his bullshit. He liked when Glen cut him down and made him honest. He even liked when Glen was cruel, most of the time. But Ayrien hated himself, so of course he liked it. Glen would have to do the work to find the right balance. To figure out where the spot was between harm and boundaries all over again. Tonight, he thought, was a step in that direction.

Ayrien rolled his eyes as the last coil of rope slid free.

Glen gave him a kiss and prodded him away, admiring the red lattice marks with every step toward the door.