Box of Nails: Jack of All Trades
Brad is crashing in his cousin Stephen's room while he tries to sort out his life. A perpetual student, he still hasn't settled on a major after a half dozen years at University. He loves learning, but so far that's the only thing that's been a good fit.
Dill is a full-time Dom who hasn't found the right sub yet. He's not worried about it -- he figures it'll eventually happen and in the meantime, there's plenty of boys at the Hammer Club who are eager to share a scene with an experienced master.
When Brad and Dill meet at a party at Barney and Devon's house for subs, the attraction is immediate and undeniable and Master Dill feels that Brad is the perfect sub for him. He also believes that as his submissive, Brad will learn the focus he needs to fulfill his potential and find satisfaction with his life. Now he just needs to help jack-of-all-trades Brad see they belong together.
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The other doors had numbers on them and they stopped at the one marked three, Dill opening it up and flooding it with light.
He was expecting a dungeon -- hard and black and janky. Filthy. Instead, it was a bright room with a bed, clean sheets, cream-colored walls, and a pair of easy chairs by a coffee table. There was also an armoire against the far wall.
"It looks so normal."
"What were you expecting?" Dill asked him, closing the door and setting the key on the little table next to it. There was a basket there, full of condoms and small tubes of lube with the club's name and logo on it.
"I don't know, honestly. Something from a Nine Inch Nails video?"
"I love them," Dill told him. "The driving beat is awesome for strong scenes."
Brad went to one of the chairs, sat. "That's like kinky stuff without sex, right?"
"Scenes can involve sex -- it depends on who is doing it, why they're doing it and what they want out of it."
He sipped his Coke. "So, do you have sex here a lot?" It was a fair question, right?
"No, I don't. Most of my scenes don't usually involve sex."
That led to an inevitable question. "What do they involve?"
"Discipline, pain, pleasure."
That was code for "that's none of your business".
"Ah. Do you, uh, have a list of guys?"
Dill shook his head. "I've done scenes with some of the members here, but I haven't found the person I'm looking for. My special someone. And that's what I want, someone special instead of random men. Then my scenes will involve sex."
"That's cool to know. I'm not... I'm a serial monogamist, I think. I have a lover and I keep them until they go." He'd had a couple of serious guys, but they didn't last. He wasn't easy.
"Have they always been the one to go?" Dill sat in the other chair and patted his lap. "Come sit while we talk."
"On your lap?" How intimate was that?
"Please." That heated look was back in Dill's eyes.
"Okay. Yeah." He moved over, perched on Dill's thighs. Dill's arm slid around his waist, hand landing on his thigh.
"Now. You were telling me about these lovers who left," Dill prompted.
"Oh, I've had a couple of serious guys, you know?" Mistakes.
"They didn't work out, hmm?"
"Nope." He wasn't stable or grown up or normal or ambitious or whatever enough.
"I'm sorry, Brad." Dill shook his head. "Wait. No, I'm not sorry. Because if any of them had worked out, we wouldn't be here now."
That was an honest answer, wasn't it? "I guess you take the good with the bad."
"And I think you're very good."
Dill kissed him, tongue sliding along his lips. Like at the cookout, these kisses were addictive, drugging, and they made him ache inside. They were why he'd come, after all. At least in a large part. And they went on and on, Dill masterful.
He began to kiss Dill back, moaning and breathing into Dill's lips. Grabbing one of his legs, Dill encouraged him to straddle Dill's lap. That brought his cock in contact with Dill's belly. Oh. Oh, damn.
Groaning, Dill put a hand behind his head, holding it there as Dill deepened the kiss. A dull heat began to grow in his belly, his cock pressing against his zipper.
"You make me hard, Brad. You make me want. Deeply."
He knew that Dill could tell that it was the same for him, that he was hard, needing.
Dill slid a hand along his spine, from his neck to his ass, fingers curling around it. The most natural action on earth seemed to be to relax, accept it. Dill massaged his ass, fingers strong, firm. Tingles shot up along his legs, into his belly.
Lips parting from his, Dill pressed their foreheads together. "I want more than kisses."
"Uh-huh. I want to orgasm together."
Dill smiled. "That sounds perfect."
"Like that we're on the same page."
"Me, too. Bed?"
"Yeah." Okay, stand up. Stand up, Brad told himself.
Dill stood, hands beneath his ass. Oh God, Dill was so strong. It didn't feel like Dill was in danger of dropping him, at all.
"Careful!" So hot.
"I might be shorter than you, but I'm plenty strong." Dill carried him to the bed and laid him down carefully.
"You're amazing." That was sexy as hell.
"Thank you." No false modesty, but not arrogant, either.
The more he learned about Dill, the more Brad liked the man. "Is Dill your first name?" He'd never fucked a guy that he didn't know the name of.
"It's short for Dillinger, and yes, it is."
"Dillinger. That's amazing." That was a fabulous name.
"You think so?"
"I do. I'm a Bradley."
"No one's ever called you Lee?"
"Lee? No. No, I've always been a Brad." He reached up, let his hands slide up along that ripped belly.
Groaning, Dill pulled his t-shirt off, giving Brad access to his skin.
"Mmm. Thank you." Okay, that was a wet dream.
Dill's body was like a brick shithouse, all muscles and warm, smooth skin, and Brad explored, tracing ribs and abs, the tight nipples. Dill made great noises for him. Groans, moans, sweet sighs.
"No ink?" Brad could get that. If he had a body like that, he wouldn't do anything to distract from it.
"Never had anything I wanted permanently."
"I can understand that." Perfectly.
"Your turn," Dill told him, nodding at his t-shirt.
"I'm skinny," he warned, pulling his own t-shirt off.
"And you think it's a problem?"
"I think it's different from you."
"I'm not looking for someone like me," Dill noted.
"No?" He wasn't either. He wasn't sure he was looking at all.
"Take it off, Brad. I want to see."
smut fixes everything
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