Chapter Text
Footsteps. Tristan smirks.
A key in the lock. Tristan stands.
The doorknob turns. Tristan walks.
“Hey, babe.” Miles smiles, brightly, dropping his keys on the table next to the door, as Tristan leans against the wall.
“Hey, handsome. Guess what?”
“What?”
“I got you something.”
Miles raises his eyebrows, pulling Tris toward him. “Mm, what ever could it be?”
Tristan kisses him, hands wandering up to Miles’ shoulders as he savours the feeling of his partner’s mouth gently moving with his.
His hands dance back around to Miles’ waist to press their bodies closer together, and he reluctantly breaks their kiss to speak.
“Come to bed.”
“It’s, like, 6 o’clock, babe.”
“Yes, and I want you to come to bed. You did yesterday,” Tristan prompts.
Miles grins. “Fair enough; happy to oblige.”
Tristan grips Miles’ hand and spins around, pulling him to their bedroom.
“Okay, so, I don’t know if you’re going to like it.”
“Uh, okay?”
“Actually, I know you’re going to hate it.”
Miles laughs again. “Sounds like just my scene, then.”
Tristan turns. “Really?”
Miles squeezes Tristan’s hand. “You know me. I’ll try anything once.”
Tristan considers for a moment, then continues walking.
“So, if I asked you to try something frustrating, you’d do it?”
“Depends, but… probably.”
“What if it was… intense?”
“I love intense.”
“Uncomfortable?”
“I’m thinking yes?”
Tristan turns to him again, serious. “What about… a commitment?”
“We’re already engaged,” Miles teases.
“I don’t mean like that. I mean…” Tristan takes a breath and opens the bedside drawer, waiting for Miles to look inside.
The brunet tears his eyes away from Tristan and immediately smiles.
“Holy shit!”
“You like it?”
Miles exhales in wonder, touching his lower lip and reaching into the drawer for it. “Fuck. Really?”
Tristan gives an affirmative hum as Miles weighs it in his hand.
“How long?”
“That’s… a conversation.”
“Wh- how do you mean?”
“First you’ll have to adjust to it; we can… put it on tonight and check if it fits. Try it for a few hours. Then if you’re comfortable with it, we’ll talk.”
Still smirking, Miles looks at his fiancé. “This is what you were measuring me for?”
Tris just leans his body against Miles’ and kisses his jaw, watching the brunet survey the object.
“So – so can I put it on now?”
“Sure, if you want.”
“Can I cum first?”
“Nope.”
“Asshole.”
“Hey, you’re gonna want to know what it’s really like.”
Miles deliberates. “That’s true.” He sighs. “Do I have to be hard, or…?”
“You have to be very, very soft,” Tristan teases, reaching for Miles’ belt.
Miles holds back a smile, pushing Tristan’s hands away. “In that case, I should take my own clothes off.”
“Maybe I should get some pictures of your mom, or…?” Tristan moves to retrieve his phone, pretending.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
Tristan laughs, and plays with the hem of Miles’ shirt. “Seriously, though, we have to be careful with this. I don’t want to hurt you, or… you know. We should do this right. Safe.”
“Hey, no, of course, I – I know this is important.” Miles soothes Tristan, rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand. “We’re good.”
“Good.” Tristan replies softly, looking deeply into green eyes. “So…”
“So.”
“You soft?”
“I might need some ice.”
“’Kay.” After a quick squeeze of Miles’ waist, Tris heads to the kitchen to collect some ice.
He grabs a bowl from the cupboard and opens the freezer, shaking his head and trying to stop smiling, knowing that if Miles could see him right now, he’d be calling him a dork. Affectionately, but still… Pressing out cubes from an ice tray, he takes a deep breath and composes himself again.
He returns to a fully naked Miles posing on the bed, and sets the bowl of ice down.
“You’re fucking gross.”
Miles chuckles and sits up normally. “So, how’s it work?”
Tristan takes the cage from Miles’ hand and pulls it apart to demonstrate. “You get your balls through the ring then bend your cock through and put the cage part on, you lock it, and go about your life.”
“Wait, you bend – through –” Miles appears mildly stunned, but still interested. “Okay.”
“’S why you gotta be soft.” Tristan sings, pressing gently against Miles’ shoulders to prompt him to lie down.
“And if I get hard in it, it hurts?”
“That all depends on the fit. This one should just be uncomfortable, but…” Tris sighs. “Please tell me every little thing, okay?”
“Promise.”
Tris studies him for a moment, then reaches for the bowl of ice.
“Oh, god,” Miles groans, somehow good-naturedly.
“Hey, you don’t have to do this. It’s okay.”
“No, I know, I want to.”
Tris still looks hesitant.
“You saw my fuckin’ face light up; of course I want to.”
Tristan softens and strokes Miles’ hip.
Miles takes a deep breath and steels himself. “Alright. Just do it.”
Tristan presses the ice cube into the shaft of Miles’ cock, eliciting a hiss as Miles clenches his eyes shut.
“I’m sorry, babe.” Tristan worries.
“It’s okay. Fuck. It’s okay. Keep going; it’s fine.” Miles opens his eyes and looks down now, tensing up watching Tristan move the ice swiftly around his cock, avoiding the sensitive head and only briefly moving across his balls when the ice is almost melted.
He grabs the cage and pulls it apart, trying to move quickly to feed Miles’ balls through the ring, watching his lover’s face faintly flinch as his cock is bent and pressed through the tight space remaining.
“Feel okay?”
“Yeah. New, but fine.”
Tristan fits the cage over Miles’ cock, having to press the two pieces together with mild force, careful not to pinch any skin fastening them.
“Still good?”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Not – yeah.”
“Not what?” Tristan frets again.
“Not painful, Tris. It’s okay. I’m good.”
Tristan reaches into the drawer for the padlock, keeping the cage pressed closed with his spare hand. He makes eye contact with Miles again who nods his confirmation, and clicks the lock into place.
Tristan moves back a little, keeping one hand on Miles’ inner thigh. “How does it feel?”
“Uh, a little tight, I guess. Restrictive. Strangely pretty cool.”
“Okay. Um, try walking around.”
Miles stands and takes a few steps away from Tristan, biting back a smile at the feeling.
“It’s good.”
“Yeah? Try stretching.”
“Oh my god, Tris, when do I ever stretch?”
“I just – want to make sure you’re comfortable.”
“Mm, you sure you don’t just wanna see your hot, naked fiancé working out?”
“Please?”
Miles licks his lips and raises his hands in surrender. “Alright.”
He performs some lunges and twists, giving Tristan thumbs-up after each one, making over-enthusiastic comments about the comfort and flexibility of the device.
Tristan pretends to be annoyed as Miles moves on to some squats and finally commences a dramatic move into push-up position.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Tristan laughs, offering Miles a hand up. “I’m just…”
Miles takes it and stands up, pulling Tristan in close. “I know, babe.”
“I feel like I was too excited when I saw you; I should have been more gentle and… I’m – I’m sorry. If you felt pressured or anything –”
“No.” Miles says abruptly. “No. I didn’t. I never could with you, Tris. I trust you. I swear, I’m good with this.”
Tris affectionately touches Miles’ face and kisses him softly. “There’s a spare key laminated for you in the kitchen for emergencies, but the only key you need to worry about is mine.”
Miles grins. “God, I’m fucking loving this.”
“Well, see how you sleep tonight.”
“Wait, I’m sleeping in –”
Tristan interrupts. “Only if you want to. We’re just testing tonight, okay?”
“Fuck. Um. Okay. Yeah, we’ll see.”
“Hey, maybe sometimes I’ll let you out at bedtime.” Tristan teases.
“And exactly how long are you planning to do this?”
“Once you’re used to it, we’ll talk.”
“Oh, come on, just tell me. As long as it’s not forever, I’m good.”
Tristan opens his mouth to speak, then holds back. “If you’re okay with it…” He takes on a sudden air of confidence.
“I want a week.”