"Ian," Mason said, "feel free enforcing house rules with Daniel here."

House rules? Daniel looked at Ian for explanation, who was thoughtfully rubbing Daniel's waist.

"We have a guest room where he can change and keep his clothes," Craig added helpfully.

Daniel froze. Where he could change? His gaze focused on Craig's naked shoulders. "No," he said suddenly, the words just slipping out. "I can't do that-"

Ian's hand clamped down on his shoulder. "Thank you, Mason," Ian said lightly, "But we haven't established the rules for visiting people yet."

"I see," Mason replied, a knowing glint in his eye. "Well, that's no problem But I hope you won't mind Craig remaining as he is."

"Of course not," Ian said.

Daniel realized no one was going to ask if he minded. Of course, his first thought on seeing Craig's back side had been wow that is a cute ass, but then his second thought was wow that is a naked ass. He couldn't see said ass now with the two of them standing together like a Home and Garden couple, but the image was seared in his mind. "So he's just," Daniel blurted, "going to stay naked? During dinner?"

There was a tense moment, Mason and Craig's smiles fading just slightly. Then Craig said with false cheer, "I thought you said he was in the lifestyle, Ian?"

"He is," Ian said. They both stared at him, but he didn't say anything else. Which was probably for the best because his tone had been considerably restrained.

"Well" Mason said, waving his arm out wide towards the dining area of the great room, "let's eat before the quiche gets cold again."

"Fantastic," Ian said. He obviously had spoken through clenched teeth. When Mason and Craig turned around, there was a sudden whack and Daniel gasped, his eyes watering. He looked at Ian. "What the hell—" he said, his ass stinging, when there was a low cough. Flushing to his ears, Daniel dropped his head.

"Problem, boys?" Mason said.

"Just some attitude adjustment," Ian replied, taking Daniel by the arm.

Daniel resisted, stumbling back until he found his footing and escaped all the way to the front door. Close on his heels, Ian grabbed his wrist and jerked him forward a little, saying under his breath, "What are you doing?" His eyes were blazing.

With only one false start, Daniel managed to hiss back, "What are you doing?" His eyebrows knotted. "I can't believe you just slapped me in front of them." And they hadn't blinked at that either, Daniel thought to himself. "And you didn't say anything about a naked man, or, hell—me having to be naked!"

At first, there was a flash of doubt on Ian's face, but then his jaw went stiff and he sneered. "You don't have to get naked. You won't respect anything I tell you to do. That was just made abundantly clear." He leaned closer, his hot breath puffing on Daniel's lips. "This is part of our agreement, Daniel. Are you backing out?"

Flooded with indignation, Daniel could only stare back. He was honestly surprised Ian was being so cold. Gulping in a breath, he tried to calm himself before replying.

"Well?" Ian said. His tone nearly sent Daniel over the edge.

Daniel forced out the words, "Don't be a dick."

This time, there was no remorse or hesitance. Ian just shrugged and crossed his arms, waiting, and finally, Daniel slumped. With a sigh, he nodded. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Sorry, what?"

Closing his eyes, Daniel licked his lips. "Sir."

He heard Ian sigh too, long and weary. "Anyway, I hope you felt this little tantrum was worth it. You have to go out there and apologize to our hosts. Now."

Daniel clenched his hands into fists. "Apologize?" he said, nervousness and dread rising immediately as if this was another one of those school presentations he was being ordered to do. "We're all adults, I'm not going to apologize like some kid."

Well. That's what he wanted to say. But Ian had made his point: there was an agreement and Daniel was the one breaking it. After a pause, Daniel said, "Yes, sir."

Nodding back towards Mason and Craig were, Ian raised his eyebrows.

Turning around, Daniel practically dragged his feet as he returned to the great room of the beautiful house, and saw Mason sitting at the table—it took a moment for Daniel to realize Craig was kneeling on the ground beside him. "You've got to be kidding," Daniel breathed.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder. "If anything other than an effusive, sincere apology comes out of your mouth, then I am doing more than just one smack," Ian said, his voice low. "Now move."

Knees shaking from nerves, Daniel nodded and then closed the rest of the distance between he and the table. Mason had his hands folded in front of his face, and he stared up at Daniel with a patient but otherwise unreadable look on his face. "I'm sorry," Daniel said, eyes wide and face going hot. "I—was rude, I mean I said something rude and then walked away." He kept rambling, unsure of what he was even apologizing about and also thinking he shouldn't have to be apologizing in the first place.

"Apology accepted," Mason replied. Daniel could hear the amusement in his voice and almost let out a nervous little chuckle of his own like, this is really cheesy, right? But then Mason glanced over at Ian. "Well that was a rather dramatic start to the evening, should we let the poor guy have some food?"

A fresh wave of embarrassment hit Daniel. Right. He's a part of this whole thing.

"Fine," Ian said from beside Daniel, pulling a chair out and pushing Daniel down into it. When Ian was seated too, Craig then rose from his knees and picked up one of the quiches and a pie server, going around and placing a slice on each plate. Thankfully, Ian and Mason started up on some business talk, mentioning names and corporations that Daniel only had a passing knowledge of, so he kept quiet.

He did take note that Mason must be tangentially related to his and Ian's company somehow, although from the way he spoke, it seemed like he had a higher position in relation to Ian's. Baffled, Daniel started to listen closer, having thought that they were only known to each other through this lifestyle.

And for awhile, Daniel forgot the situation he was in. "I heard that wasn't happening," he said, when Ian brought up a smaller company they were absorbing.

Both Ian and Mason paused, and looked at Daniel. Immediately, he felt stupid and self-conscious. "Am I not allowed to speak?" he muttered.

By that time, Craig had finished serving and had, to Daniel's relief, daintily sat in a chair beside Mason, his ass no longer on display. "Sweetie, you're allowed to talk," he said, "you've just been so quiet."

"Craig," Mason had placed his hand on the other man's shoulder. "We don't know their rules."

Surprisingly, Craig's expression became obtuse. "Well I want to hear from Daniel. You guys are boring."

Torn between feeling grateful that Craig was standing up for him, and annoyed because clearly that outburst was more rude than Daniel had been, he opened his mouth to say something when Mason suddenly pinched Craig's ear and hauled his face close. "Watch it," he growled, "We don't need two brats right now."

Daniel snorted without thinking. And then all eyes were on him. Overwhelmed with disbelief and feeling defensive, he slapped his own chest. "Am I supposed to be the brat you're talking about?"

"Yes." Ian had slipped his hand around Daniel's wrist, holding it firmly between their two plates.

"Ian?" Craig was smiling—even as he rubbed his ear. "Mind loaning Daniel out?"

Apparently the tension had lifted because Ian chuckled. "Depends on the situation."

That earned a round of laughter from everyone but Daniel, who took a few seconds to catch on. His stomach turned. I don't think that's funny. Never had he been so angry, he realized. Not even at Richard. Ian was really being an asshole.

"Just to help with desert," Craig had replied coyly.

"Well that's fine," Ian said, patting Daniel on the back as Craig got up. Taking the hint, Daniel followed suit on shaky legs, only to feel Ian then pat his ass too. He had to bite his lip to keep from yelling something at the infuriating idiot. Even worse, Mason was smiling at him knowingly, but what the hell did he actually know?

He trudged behind Craig, eyes involuntarily drawn to that perky spanked ass that bounced with each step. In the kitchen, he awkwardly leaned against the counter and watched as Craig bent down to grab something from the freezer—Daniel quickly averted his eyes, feeling another blush rising.

"We're having gelato," Craig said, setting the container down next to Daniel. But then he didn't go for spoons or anything. He just crossed his arms and cocked his hip. "Should we let them eat it off us?"

Daniel nearly choked on nothing, which earned him roaring laughter from Craig. Mason called from the kitchen asking what was going on, but Craig just waved at him. "Anyway," he said, "that option's open, but we'll just stick with bowls this time."

Watching him reach up towards a shelf where the bowls were, Daniel stepped forward to help, easily grasping the stack and lowering them down into Craig's hands. "Can I ask," Daniel said suddenly, "do you have…a job, or—"

Craig shot him a little, crooked smile. "Is there a reason you're asking?"

"Just curious," Daniel replied, awkwardly side-stepping out of Craig's way as the tiny man bustled around the kitchen, opening drawers and preparing coffee.

He still had his eyebrows scrunched together, tongue between his teeth as he clicked several buttons on the drip machine, when he said, "I'm the head director of Mason's department."

Then he stood straight with a sigh, and considered Daniel with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You're not quite what I was expecting." Daniel didn't even need to ask what he meant, and Craig continued, "I was relieved when Ian said he found someone who was genuinely into what he was looking for, but you don't seem remotely—"

"You were relieved?" Daniel cut in, desperate to keep the topic off himself.

"Oh, well," Craig replied, "he just always talks about wanting to find someone…" He closed his eyes. "Look, I'm only saying this because you seem more inexperienced than Ian told us, but I know he has a very specific set of needs that would make most people feel uncomfortable, so if you did this out of curiosity, or you were crossing something off your bucket list..."

"No," Daniel shouted, his hand curling into a fist on the counter. Craig's eyebrows rose. "Why would I put myself through this for something stupid," Daniel continued, having lost control of his filter entirely as he waved at Craig's nakedness, "I can't take you seriously, you're wearing a thong and lecturing me about your weird sex life, I mean, you freaks—"

He stopped.

And then, as Craig's friendly expression closed off, there was the scratching of chairs as Mason said, "What the hell is going on?" but Daniel was more focused on Ian, and even though he very much felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, he still felt when Ian grasped him by the upper arm and dragged him out towards the front door.

"We're leaving," Ian had said, rage clearly very close to the surface.


Neither Craig nor Mason followed them outside into the cool air, and Daniel just followed along with Ian's pace down several quiet neighborhood blocks until he was out of breath and couldn't match it anymore. "Ian," he said, "you hurting me."

Finally, Ian slowed and then stopped. He let go of Daniel's arm.

Rubbing the sore spot, Daniel sighed. "I didn't mean to call them freaks—"

"No." Ian's expression was hard to see in the dark, but the tone of his voice was low with warning. "I'm sick of this. I gave up a cute boy who could have been it for six months. Six fucking months of you just trying, that's all I asked for." He stepped forward and grabbed Daniel's chin, forcing him to look back up the street. "That was not trying."

He let go with a shove and stepped away, turning his back towards Daniel and clutching his hips.

Daniel still felt the burn of Ian's grip on his face. "I'll—" he said weakly, "I'll do better next time."

Hearing Ian let out a rough laugh, he lowered his gaze. "No," Ian said suddenly. "You'll do better now."

Feeling uneasy, Daniel replied, "Now?"

Ian turned and crossed his arms over his chest. By then, Daniel's eyes had adjusted to the dark and he could see the expression on Ian's face. His eyes were hooded, and his lips were set in a disdainful frown. "Get on your knees."

What? Instinctively, Daniel glanced around the street as if someone would be out there at this hour listening to them. "Ian," he said, "We're in the middle of suburbia—"

Ian's hand shot out and clasped Daniel's collar. He dragged him close. "There's no room for negotiation, Daniel."

"Ian," Daniel croaked, "come on. What if someone comes out?"

Shaking his head, Ian pushed Daniel away again. At that moment, Daniel thought he was about to back out of the whole thing and say the agreement was over—and admittedly Daniel felt some relief at that. But then Ian spoke.

"I may not be able to hold you to our agreement legally, Daniel," he said, "But there are other ways to make sure you can't back out." And then he pointed to the ground.

Daniel was paralyzed. That had been a threat. Something he never, in a million years, who have expected Ian to do. And yet Daniel found himself sinking to his knees, felt the hard concrete under his pant legs, and tried desperately not to cry.

"Now," Ian said, "Put your arms up in the air."

Completely lost, Daniel raised his arms above his head. He waited for the next command, but nothing came. Only when a low thrum of pain started pulsing around his shoulders did he realize that this, what he was doing right then, was the punishment. Five minutes or so must have passed before he finally broke and said, "Ian…"

"What?" Ian's voice was level, not betraying any emotion. He just stood there above Daniel, high above Daniel, who was feeling smaller and smaller on the sidewalk like that, with his hands in the air.

"I'm getting tired," Daniel said, his voice rasping. Everything was starting to ache, and some shards or maybe they were pebbles were digging into his knees.

Ian frowned for a moment, but then he squared his shoulders. "You drop them and you get the belt."

"What?" Daniel's face twisted with surprise. "Ian, are you serious?"

At that, Ian knelt down suddenly, and grabbed the back of Daniel's neck, jerking him close. "Did you think I was just playing around when I signed that agreement with you? I know you thought I was just a nice fool wrapped around your finger, but even I have my limits with selfishness, Daniel."

Daniel didn't know what to do with that. What he did know was that his arms hurt badly, and he wanted to lower them, but Ian's threat hung in the air—both threats, although the belt one was really making Daniel's mouth run dry. "This is what I wanted," Ian continued. "You had agreed to it fully." And then, he dropped his head. "But I should have known better." There was a slight hitch to his voice. "I was too eager."

Bracing his hand on his knee, Ian stood back up with a sigh. "You can lower them, Daniel."

Daniel's arms fell to his sides, and he slumped. And then he felt Ian slide his hand into Daniel's hair, combing it with a gentle touch. "Why did you do this?" Ian asked flatly. When Daniel looked up, he could see the genuine hurt on Ian's face. "I liked being your friend, and I could have gotten over my crush, but you—" His voice hitched again, and he tugged Daniel's hair like that would do anything. It didn't even hurt.

"I'm done." Ian pushed away and turned back towards Mason and Craig's house. Daniel just stared for a moment, and then scrambled to his feet and jogged after him.

"Ian," he huffed, "about what you said..."

Ian didn't stop walking. "What did I say?"

"About the agreement," Daniel replied.

"Well—" Ian laughed sharply, "I can't exactly take that raise away from you without someone noticing, and the only guarantee I had on my end was your verbal promise to follow our agreement. So you pulled one over on me, congratulations. I didn't realize you were such a minx. Should I feel like an asshole for making threats?"

Daniel was sweating through his dress shirt, and Ian was calling him a minx. He would never understand what Ian saw when he looked at Daniel. "I just want to know if you were serious about it," Daniel said.

"I want to be serious," Ian replied.

Letting out a long breath, Daniel grabbed his wrist and pulled him to a stop. "What can I do to fix this?" And finally Ian looked at him. "I know you've been patient with me and I've just been fumbling my way through the entire mess, but—"

Ian held his hand up. "Fine, this is how. We take up an invitation Mason had extended me to stay the night, and I fuck you in their guest room."

"What?" Daniel replied, palming his neck nervously. "Isn't that...rude?"

Ian smirked in his cocky way. "No. In fact, it would be rude not to."

"I don't know if I can face them again," Daniel said truthfully.

To his relief, Ian nodded. "It's fine, Daniel. Watching a supposed sub cause a snit probably just gets them going anyway."

Despite everything, Daniel laughed, the tension in his chest easing.


When Mason opened the front door, he was wearing a robe and his hair was ruffled. "Craig is already in bed," he said.

"Sorry for the scene," Daniel replied. Ian gave his ass an approving grope.

Mason exhaled with amusement, and stepped back to let them in. "I haven't been called a freak in a long time, but I won't take it to heart." He led them past the great room and down a dim hallway that had padded carpet until he stopped at a door and opened it for them. "Goodnight gentlemen," he said with a wink.

When he was gone, Daniel turned to check the room out. It was obviously meant for guests, with a small bowl of toiletries on the nightstand. Daniel was about to pick up a bottle of shampoo to see what brand it was when he saw what looked like a high-tech baby monitor behind the basket. "What's this about?" he asked, turning to show it to Ian.

Who was already in nothing but a pair of briefs. He was standing there and rubbing his chest, watching Daniel. He had a boyish amusement glinting in his eyes. "What do you think it is?"

"Uh…" Daniel flipped it over. "Speakers?"

Ian laughed, approaching Daniel and sliding a hand up his side and around to his back until their hips bumped into each other. "Think … the opposite of speakers."

Glancing up at him, Daniel furrowed his eyebrows in confusion when Ian's meaning dawned. "What?" Daniel hissed, lowering his voice. "A microphone?" And then the full meaning of it would be rude not too sunk in. "They're going to listen to us?"

Why he was even bothering to panic at that moment, with Ian eyeing him with a hungry gaze was beyond Daniel. Clearly nothing was getting through. "Is there a way to turn it off at least?"

Ian smiled. "After your little bratty display, I think at the very least we can entertain them with your very lovely moans."

Still holding the microphone, Daniel tried to formulate a way out of that, but he knew then that this was the test Ian was putting him through. Not the slightly uncomfortable venture of fucking in someone else's guest room, but rather pure exhibitionism. And Daniel was mad.

"Couldn't you have just… spanked me or something," he said, his hand dropping to his side.

Ian kissed him, coaxed his face back up using that kiss. "This is what I want," he said huskily. He gently pulled the microphone from Daniel's hand and set it back down on the nightstand. "You do this for me, and I will never ask you to put on a show again, or be naked in front of them, or anything of that sort."

Daniel flushed from just knowing Mason and Craig could hear those words. He suddenly reached forward, jerking Ian close by the back of his head, and whispered into his ear, "you actually get off on me not liking this, don't you?"

A smooth hand slid up his arm and clasped his wrist, pulling it away until those fingers threaded with his. "I'd rather you be happy. But sometimes, I do enjoy making you uncomfortable." And then Ian kissed Daniel again, this time on the cheek. "Get undressed."

He pulled away, sauntering over to a cabinet on the wall. When he opened it and Daniel saw the trove of sex toys lined up, he nearly cursed out loud. If he were to make an estimate, he'd say he only recognized what about half of them were for. But thankfully Ian just dipped his hand into a box of condoms and pulled out a handful.

"Do they have guests often?" Daniel asked pointedly as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Ian chuckled. "They do lots of things. Lots of group games and stuff."

"Have you ever fucked them?"

Ian looked at Daniel with raised eyebrows. There was a smug look on his face, one Daniel recognized well from other men he had been intimate with, who during pillow talk would grasp that Daniel was quite vanilla and therefore they were superior. It was obnoxious. Richard had never made him feel that way.

Daniel startled at that errant thought just as Ian said, "We've actually kept things friendly, and I prefer that. But I've always wanted to put on a show for them." He casually flipped the condoms onto the bed, and then went to a small, tasteful bar built into the wall. "Will this help?" he asked, holding up a bottle of what looked like Sake.

Shirt hanging at his sides, Daniel joined him. "Yes, it would," he said honestly. There was a knot of unhappiness tightening in his gut, and alcohol would certainly ease that.

Ian quickly pulled down two small cups, poured, and then handed one over to Daniel. With both of them sipping, a small smile curved on his lips, and he reached down to tug at Daniel's belt. "I thought I told you to get naked?"

Daniel downed the rest of his Sake. "One more," he said as he cleared his throat, setting the cup down on the bar.

Apparently unshaken by Daniel's rebuff, Ian remained all mischievous smiles as he poured Daniel another cup. "You're driving me crazy," Ian said.

Daniel frowned. "What do you mean?"

Setting down the Sake bottle, Ian then took ahold of Daniel. He slipped his fingers under Daniel's open collar and slid his shirt right off. "Well," he breathed, his eyelids drooping as he then slowly, luxuriously ran his palms up Daniel's chest and over his shoulders. "This is going to sound stupid, but when it looked like our deal wouldn't work out, the first thing I thought was that—" Ian paused then, and smirked at Daniel. "—the chance of getting you on all fours was gone."

"That sounds more than just stupid," Daniel replied snappily, pulling away.

But Ian held him in place. "I know, I know," he said, in an obviously fake placating tone. "I'm an asshole, but…" He leaned forward and kissed Daniel again. "it's still true." The look Ian gave him was pointed, all humor gone.

Oh. Daniel set his cup down. "Got it," he said stiffly.

He pulled away from Ian again, and this time he was allowed to. He shucked off his jeans and underwear as he stepped to the bed, and then he slid forward onto the mattress one knee at a time. Before he could bend over, hands clasped his waist, and lips pressed against the slope of his shoulder.

Ian took his time, pressing chaste little kisses up Daniel's neck until he paused at Daniel's temple. "Ok," he said, reaching around to grab Daniel's cock.

Daniel gasped. And then his gaze jerked to the microphone.

But then Ian started jacking, and Daniel arched back with a low cry. The mix of alcohol and Ian's presence behind him was more than enough to melt his discomfort away as he huffed, feeling hot. Feeling more than hot, feeling the need to grind his ass back against Ian's crotch. He closed his eyes, hating himself.

But Ian kept on jerking him off until he was hard. "Down," Ian demanded suddenly, stopping his ministrations. The words were marked with a shove against Daniel's back. He fell forward, bracing himself on the mattress, and nearly bit his tongue off when Ian slid a lube-covered palm over his hole. "When did you—"

The blunt edge of Ian's cock pressed against him and Daniel choked on his words. He was dragged back by his hips until Ian seemed pleased with his positioning, and then the pressure was back, cock breaching him with one slow thrust, and Daniel cried out.

Ian slapped his thigh. It stung.

Daniel tucked his face into the crook of his elbow. He felt his arousal shriveling away. He could see that microphone on the nightstand. Ian started pounding into him, making the bed frame creak, forcing Daniel to hunch even more until his spine was arched down—he held Daniel by the neck.

I don't like this, Daniel thought. I really hate this.








(a/n) wooooo update~ how's it hanging?

so newsy news: I have a short story coming out called the Rusted Sword (link in my profile) It's about a long term married couple suffering bed death. and it's set in castle times.

other newsy news: have you ever wanted to read my noncon and incest stories but they never seemed to exist? good news, they do and they're over at my livejournal (roughdrafthero).

sorry for the long time no update I am poor and have no time! hope everyone enjoyed :'D

and yes Ian is a dick. but! we're headed back around to the first chapter.