Archive of Our Own ^beta

The thing about indulging in seeing Gray, is that Declan can't quit him. Even more so, he can't quit what Gray does to him.

Just how bad it's gotten, he only notices when he wakes up in Gray's bed. Again. With very little memory of the last day– night?–, he realises slowly. He hardly remembers anything, and yet he can feel his face heating in embarrassment.

He groans, rubbing a hand over his eyes and wishing sleep would take him again. It doesn't. He doesn't want to find out what he did last night to find himself back in Gray's bed, in Gray's underwear, with a distinct sense of shame that comes only from being horrifically honest and vulnerable.

He hates himself a little for being back here and he's wallowing in it because it's easier than getting up and facing Gray. Turning around, he presses his face into the pillow and groans again, rubbing his cheek into the soft cotton.

When Gray returns to the bedroom, he finds Declan more or less like he'd left him, but Declan twitches at the sound of the door so he knows the boy is awake.

"Good morning, Declan," he says and Declan huffs, not looking at him. His face is mostly hidden, but his bright red ears give away that he's blushing.

"Did you sleep well?" Gray asks and his voice is almost sweet, the edge of steel hidden underneath. He's not exactly happy with Declan's actions from last night. Neither his own, but Declan doesn't have to know that.

"What did I do?" comes muffled from in his pillow and Gray keeps the smirk to himself.

"You don't remember? I'm not surprised. You were pretty out of it by the time you got here."

Declan doesn't answer him, only tries to bury deeper into the pillow.

Gray sits down on the edge of the bed and forces himself not to smile as Declan shifts a little closer, seemingly without noticing.

" Well," he starts, "you showed up here begging me to make love to you."

Declan groans louder.

"It was quite a display, actually. You were very insistent."

Gray takes care to keep his voice perfectly neutral, not letting any of the arousal bleed through. He won't give Declan the satisfaction of knowing that his methods were very effective. It would feed Declan's hunger for weeks.

It will feed Gray's hunger for weeks.

Declan huffs and squirms a little in the sheets, still sleep-warm and skin crossed with lines from where it had pressed against the bedding.

"So what did you do?" Declan asks eventually, after the silence has stretched thin. He's still not looking up.

Gray shrugs, even though Declan can't see it, allowing himself a rueful little smile.

"I made love to you."

This does get Declan shooting upright to stare at him and Gray lifts one brow in challenge. Declan's hair is mussed from sleep, sticking up spectacularly on one side. Gray thinks about burying his hand in those curls again.

"You did what?"

Gray shakes his head with an exasperated sigh, having perfected the act of being tired with Declan's nonsense.

"You asked me to make love to you, so I did. You didn't seem like you'd take a no very well in your state, Declan."

Declan winces like Gray is digging a bullet out of his leg. Though, if he was doing that, Declan would be hard again. Which– well, he might be anyways. He's still young, it's a morning, it's not unreasonable to think he might still have to deal with morning erections.

Gray can't see, the comforter is pooled in Declan's lap and he has yet to decide if that is a good thing or not.

"I– I don't know what to say to that," Declan admits weakly and Gray gives a soft chuckle.

"Not much to say. What is done is done. Maybe don't take whichever assorted medication you have lying around next time, hm?"

Declan flushes again and looks away, rubbing a hand over his face with a slow nod.

"I couldn't sleep. I thought it was my sleeping pills," he lies.

"No you didn't."

There's a heavy sigh and Declan runs his hand through his hair, still not looking at Gray.

"No I didn't," he says and his eyes finally flick up to meet Gray's. "I wanted to see you."

"And you had to be high for it?" Gray asks, a little disbelievingly. "You've had no trouble seeking me out sober up until now."

"Yes, well.." Declan starts and trails off, cheeks darkening some more. "Do we have to do this right after I've woken up?"

He's trying to change the topic and Gray considers indulging him, before deciding against it. Having him like this makes it easier to get the truth.

So Gray shrugs, levelling Declan with an even stare. Declan shrinks under it, which brings Gray immeasurable satisfaction.

"We do," he says. "Why did you drug yourself for this, Declan?"

Declan squirms, hands clutching the comforter in his lap and he stares down at them instead of looking at Gray. It's almost unbearable to see him like this – soft from sleep, blushing and sweet and so very embarrassed.

The thing inside of Gray wants to eat him alive.

"I can't get off on normal sex otherwise," Declan admits softly after another moment of silence and Gray is genuinely surprised.

"Normal sex?" he asks because what he does with Declan could hardly be described as normal sex, even under those circumstances.

Declan is very interested in his own hands. He swallows down a noise that sounds suspiciously like a whimper and doesn't answer.

Gray sighs, rolling his eyes for effect and encourages "go on, spit it out."

The hint of authority or perhaps perceived annoyance seems to get Declan talking and he shifts uncomfortably where he sits. Gray wonders if talking about this is getting him aroused and if he really is hard under that comforter.

"I can't come without pain," Declan mumbles, face flaming and Gray raises an eyebrow at him again.

"You've come plenty of times with me without pain," he points out and doesn't say that he thinks he knows what Declan means. He wants to hear him say it.

Declan makes a noise like a growl and Gray thinks it's cute how frustrated he's getting. He really is bad at talking about sex. Probably the Catholic upbringing. Unfortunate for him that humiliation makes him so very beautiful.

"Yes, but with you it's always been– you know, more than just the sex! It's always, like– you in control and talking down to me and making me think about pain and– it's not the same as– as having normal sex," he finishes lamely and Gray knows he's avoiding saying making love.

Gray looks at him for a long, considering moment, watching Declan squirm under the scrutiny.

Declan wanted to be fucked gently but apparently can't come without the roughed edges of their usual play unless he drugs himself. The thing inside Gray wants to test this hypothesis very badly. It wants to figure out what it is Declan needs that will make him come, pain or not.

It wants Declan sobbing and begging him to come, unable to, because Gray is being kind. What a new and novel idea.

This hunger has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Gray perhaps wouldn't mind treating Declan softly either. That maybe a small part of him would enjoy taking his time with the boy and making him fall apart on Gray's cock.

Declan has just handed him a very dangerous truth and by the look of dawning horror on his face, the boy is realising it too.

"I-I'm fine with what we usua–"

"So, if I were to repeat now what I did last night, you don't think you would be able to come?" Gray interrupts, expression calculating.

It's a bad idea, he shouldn't encourage Declan's little crush – or whatever it is that brought him here with that notion of love in his head –, but at the same time – does Gray not deserve this just once? Play-pretend to soothe the strangeness of last night away and bring them back to familiar territory.

Declan stares at him, surprised, his mouth still hanging open slightly. His lips look soft and Gray knows they are, he kissed them last night. Repeatedly.

He wants to do it again.

"I'm waiting for an answer, Declan," Gray reminds him when it doesn't look like Declan is planning to reply anytime soon.

Declan shakes his head, eyes big and fixed on Gray.

"Words, Declan."

The boy almost squeaks.

"No, I don't think I would," he rushes out and Gray gives a nod, humming thoughtfully.

"Would you like to test that?"

Declan is bright red again when he nods quickly, breath visibly faster already. He's so easy to rile up. Gray can hardly be blamed for doing so, if it's this easy.

Gray shifts closer, reaching up to pull Declan into an easy kiss. The kind of kiss that he would give Declan if he was a lover, if they'd wake up in this bed together every morning.

The kind of kiss Gray only ever gives fantasies. He's good at pretending though, so he let's them both believe it for now.

They both know Gray isn't one for romance. And Declan is too young to settle down, especially with someone like Gray. No, he just doesn't know yet what he wants and Gray is happy enough to help him figure it out.

Declan gasps a little as he's kissed, lips parted in surprise and he doesn't really seem to know what to do with his hands. He tastes of morning breath and Gray wonders briefly if his own lips taste like coffee.

It takes another few heartbeats of Gray kissing him, before Declan practically melts into it with a moan, like he's decided this is in fact real and not just a dream. In the meantime, Gray has shifted closer, now kneeling on the bed and able to lean over Declan to push him back into the sheets.

When he slides a hand down to Declan's underwear, he chuckles against Declan's mouth with a little shake of his head.

"You're hard already," he comments, "is it from the conversation or were you hard already?"

What he doesn't ask is 'Is it me that does this to you?' because he doesn't flatter himself, he knows if anything, it's just his authority that does it for Declan.

"Ah– b-both," Declan gasps when Gray trails a finger up the length of his hard cock, trapped in his briefs.

"So it's just the orgasm that's inhibited by normal sex?" he asks curiously, rubbing little circles under the head of it and Declan's hips twitch as he pants, struggling to catch his breath, nodding in response.

Gray hums in interest, tilting his head so he can peer down between them as he slides his hand into Declan's briefs and closes it around the boy's cock, stroking it once and watching as it twitches in his hand. Declan makes a strangled noise in his throat, head pressing back into the sheets.

"Fuck," he chokes and Gray smiles a little.

He kisses Declan again, who gasps against his mouth when Gray's hand keeps working him in slow, tight strokes.

"So you couldn't come from this then?" Gray asks conversationally and Declan groans, shaking his head even as his hips jerk up into Gray's grip greedily.

Gray remembers he's supposed to recreate what he did last night, so he takes a moment to take off the shirt he'd put on, sliding off his slacks, socks and underwear as well. It has Declan staring at him with unabashed awe and Gray doesn't let it make him uncomfortable.

Not undressing with Declan isn't something he does because he's ashamed of his body or harbours any sort of self-worth issues toward it. It's largely about maintaining boundaries between them – not letting Declan see how much he arouses Gray.

It lets Gray stay above the things he does, convince himself he's just doing a service to the boy. It let's him keep his unaffected appearance intact much more easily than when he's naked. But he has a point to make and he will manage just fine.

Declan is still staring at him.

Gray gives him a small exasperated smile, shaking his head. "Close your mouth, boy, or I'll find something to occupy it," he says before he remembers he's meant to be sweet.

The blush and quick dropping of Declan's gaze is worth it however.

Now naked, Gray climbs back onto the bed and tugs Declan's underwear off too, stretching over to get the bottle of lube he'd stored in the bedside table ever since Declan had stayed that first night. He hadn't been stupid enough to think things would go back to the motel visits once Declan had come here.

If he'd done so once, he would do so again. As is proven by Declan currently in his bed.

He slots himself between Declan's legs and starts kissing him again, slow and sensual, as he blindly opens the bottle of lube and spreads some on his fingers. Declan shudders all over when Gray's hand comes down to his undoubtedly still sensitive hole and Gray doesn't let himself smirk.

Opening Declan up is easy and Gray takes his time with it, really wanting to make this soft and pain-free and dizzying – after all, he wants to see for himself. He wants to see him desperate and balancing on that edge, unable to push himself over. He wants him begging.

Gray loves working his fingers into him, feel his velvet warm insides spasm around them, see Declan writhe and groan with his head tossed back and his cheeks flushed.

He could do this for hours.

Declan is gasping for breath and there's already a sheen of sweat covering his skin again. The animal under Gray's skin wants to lick it off.

Instead, he leans down and kisses Declan, slow and sweet. He pushes his fingers in deep and twists one last time, listening to Declan gasp against his mouth in response, before pulling his fingers out.

It's so easy to push into Declan after he's this thoroughly stretched. Gray takes it slow, just rubs over Declan's sensitive rim with the tips of his fingers until the boy is panting from it, clenching around nothing.

Gray smiles and leans over him, keeping Declan's legs spread by placing himself between them and pushing into him slowly. Just like he had last night. Similarly, Declan goes still in anticipation, mouth hanging open and eyes screwed shut.

He's a fucking sight to behold when he's being stretched on a cock. He looks so innocent with the two high spots of red on his cheeks and yet so filthy with his father's full red lips. He doesn't have his youngest brother's angelic blonde curls but even his dark and messy ones make him look young and beautiful.

Gray knows this image will be burned into his mind irrevocably.

Declan opens his eyes and stares up at him, the blue of them is arresting. Gray can't look away.

"Yeah, baby," he gets out and his voice is rough. "There you go. That's what you need, huh?"

Gray doesn't really know what he's saying anymore, he's wrestling with his own control, with the foreign entity that is his arousal. It wants to take over, it wants to make Declan suffer.

He presses himself deeper and deeper, until his hips are flush against Declan's ass and they're both breathing harder.

Reaching for Declan's cock, he strokes it lovingly, giving a small smile when Declan keens from the stimulation. Gray bears down on him, caging Declan against the mattress, their skin pressed together more than it ever has before. It's a strange feeling and by the look on Declan's face, overwhelming to him.

Gray keeps his thrusts slow and even, rolling his hips into Declan with all the patience he can muster. He just has to outlast Declan, which really shouldn't be too difficult considering the boy is already gasping like a fish out of water.

It doesn't take very long for Declan to start begging. He's clumsy but earnest with it, a deep red blush spreading down his face and chest as he whimpers "please."

As if he doesn't know he won't get away with keeping it vague like that.

Gray gentles the smirk he wants to give until it's a teasing smile, raising an eyebrow at Declan.

"Please what, Declan? You know better than to make me guess."

Declan whines in response, chest lifting and falling rapidly as he tries to suck in a deep breath. Each new thrust seems to punch it back out of him. He shakes his head and arches when Gray doesn't pull out but grinds against him instead.

"Come on, Declan, tell me what you need," he murmurs, leaning down so he's right next to Declan's ear. "Tell me and I might give it to you."

The noise Declan makes in response can only be described as strangled.

"I– I want to come," he pants and Gray can feel the heat radiating off of him, how his body shudders and seizes with Gray's thrusts.

"Yeah?" Gray asks, smiling as he pulls back to look at Declan again. "I didn't say you couldn't, baby, you're allowed to come."

Declan makes a protesting whine, glaring at Gray even though the effect is diminished by how he can't quite seem to be able to meet Gray's eyes.

"I can't!" he whines, legs squeezing around Gray's hips. "I– I can't, please, f-fuck, please, I can't– I need–"

He breaks off with a shudder, his cock throbbing noticeably between their stomachs. There's a smear of wetness on Gray's skin and it feels strange to be so intimately aware of Declan's cock. Not bad. Just intense.

Gray reaches down to circle Declan's cock with his hand and start stroking him again, still smiling as he mutters "here, is this what you need?"

He knows it isn't but the thing inside of him is salivating and greedy, wanting, always wanting and Gray doesn't let it do nearly enough of the things it wants. Only Declan seems able to make him loosen its leash.

Declan cries out, arching up against him, chest pressed to Gray's own, a long line of warm sweaty skin against his. Declan's cock is throbbing and a fresh dribble of precum spills over Gray's hand.

"F-fuck, sir, please!" Declan practically shouts and he's writhing now, much more animated with Gray's hand on his cock, stomach muscles jumping and legs squeezing rhythmically around Gray's waist.

Gray thinks Declan might cry if he just keeps going like this. The thing hungers.

"What is it, Declan?" he asks in mock concern, "I thought this was what you wanted? I'm making love to you, aren't I? I'm even touching your cock. Is that not enough?"

He takes care to put just the smallest hint of exasperation into his tone, as if Declan is greedy to ask for even more. As if Gray isn't aroused by this as well, as if the pleasure isn't crawling up his spine fiery and beckoning.

Gray simply has more experience denying himself and the thing.

Declan makes a choked whimpering noise, turning his face to the side and biting his lip, cheeks bright red. Ashamed, is he now?

He shakes his head like it's not obvious that it isn't enough.

"No, s-sir, please, I just need–" he breaks off again, squirming and tightening around Gray in a way that makes sparks dance in Gray's vision.

"What?" Gray asks and his voice is so rough he has to clear his throat before he can continue. "What do you need? Can't give it to you if you don't tell me, baby."

He stops thrusting again to grind directly against Declan's prostate, relishing in the way Declan sobs from it, back arching and cock kicking in Gray's hand. His balls are drawn up tight against his cock and when Gray looks down between them, he can see that they're pulsing too.

"Please, just– I need– hurt me, please, fuck, s-sir, please, just–" Declan wails, gasping hard and fast in between words. There's tears in his eyes and they make them even brighter, a clear vibrant blue that is so stunning.

They'll haunt Gray for a long time after this.

"Hurt you?" he repeats and puts as much surprise and mock concern into the words as he can muster while he's fucking Declan.

God, the boy's hole is so tight and wet and it opens so easily for him, the glide almost unbearably smooth. It tears at his control to be this involved. To feel this good. To have Declan underneath him like this, helpless and begging, needing Gray to hurt him.

Gray exhales a slow, measured breath and forces himself to focus on his hands on Declan's waist, Declan's thighs around his hips, instead of the smooth slide of his cock into Declan's willing body.

Declan whines, high and strained, embarrassment clear in every line of his body, the bright red of his face. It only serves to make his eyes seem brighter.

"You want me to hurt you, Declan? Are you sure?"

Declan squirms and bites his lip again, sucking breath in through his nose and Gray can see him warring with the humiliation. That just won't do.

Gray pulls out and fucks back into him, hard, twisting his hand over Declan's cock in a way that makes Declan shout. His whole body seizes up and shudders heavily, a wet sound getting caught in his chest.

"Please," he gasps and he's nodding now, humiliation– well, not forgotten, but judged as a small price to pay for the orgasm he so clearly craves. "Please, please, God– ffuck , hurt me, hurt me please, s-sir, I need it–"

Gray chuckles and he swears Declan's cock twitches in response.

"Alright, baby, alright, if you insist," he mutters, lifting his hands from Declan's hips to set them on his chest, fingers bent.

His nails are always short and well-kept, so blood won't get caught beneath them, but he still knows at which angle to press down at to make it hurt.

Gray rakes his nails down Declan's chest and stomach, once, twice.

The change is instantaneous and mesmerising. Declan arches far enough to almost dislodge Gray, mouth falling open on a silent cry, head pushed back into the sheets and cock spurting between them, untouched.

He's coming, just from that. And he sobs from it, clamping down around Gray until it becomes difficult to keep fucking him as hard as he had been. And Gray can't stop himself from bending over him a little with a gasp, feeling the stimulation like a punch to the gut.

"Good, good, let it all out," he croaks, reaching back down to stroke Declan's cock. It earns him a helpless mewl as Declan shudders again, clenching once more.

Gray grunts, aware of how close his own orgasm is, aware that he should pull out now and not let Declan see him like this, see what coming inside of him does to Gray.

But then there's a hand on his wrist, grip surprisingly strong as Declan's wet eyes find his and he wheezes "don't– don't pull out, please?"

His voice is small and wrecked and his eyes are still hazy with his own orgasm but Gray can't deny him this, not when he looks at him with such open adoration.

Gray has given the thing a longer leash and it's claiming that freedom now, bending over Declan and gripping his hips again, tighter, to fuck into him hard and fast. He doesn't make much noise as he does, grunting softly as he gives in and chases his own orgasm.

When he comes, he goes still, mind whiting out for a blissful few seconds, sighing out a long breath. He recovers much faster than Declan does, but Declan is still staring at him with something like awe on his face when Gray's eyes open to meet his.

So much for not letting him see.

Gray huffs out a breath and mutters "you're staring."

Declan quickly looks away, blushing, and Gray knows he still hasn't fully recovered or he wouldn't be so easily cowed.

Carefully, Gray pulls out and gets off the bed, biting down on a groan. He's naked and sweaty, Declan's come is smeared over his stomach.

He gets a washcloth and a glass of water from the bathroom as usual and hopes Declan won't be awake enough to notice that Gray needs that moment of distance. He has to reign himself in again, remind himself of what they are – which is nothing, really, at least nothing with a name.

Once he's back in the bedroom, he hands the glass to Declan and tells him "Drink," as he wipes his own stomach and crotch clean. Declan does drink, but he's also still watching Gray.

"You should go shower," Gray tells him next, picking his own clothes off the floor to redress. He doesn't look at Declan until he's buttoning up his shirt once more, then raises an eyebrow at him expectantly.

Declan's mouth works like he's physically moving around the words.

"I like it when you're naked," he says eventually and Gray chuckles, shaking his head a little.

"Go for a shower, Declan," he says and Declan does.