Work Text:
Wemmbu and Brandon never got up to anything too out there, really.
Sure, they'd known each other for a while, and it had already been a year or two since he'd moved in with Brandon. And, sure, Brandon had a way with words that could get Wemmbu on his knees, begging.
Okay.
Maybe they were a little freaky.
But, still, they never really messed around with something like... this. They hadn't even discussed it, really, it's just, he couldn't get it out of his head. Not after that.
Wemmbu was writhing below Brandon, tears edging in the corners of his eyes. "Plea-, hah, please- Brandon, I-" He choked out, not sure what he was even begging for. Brandon was inside him so deep, so good. "Brandon" he whined, as Brandon kept up his punishing pace. He needed to-
His train of thought stopped when he felt a hand around his neck.
Not pressing down, nor choking him. Though the idea did run a shudder through him.
No, it was simply... there.
Wemmbu blinked once, twice, forcing himself to make eye contact with Brandon. Brandon had this frenzied look in his eyes and, fuck, Wemmbu would be lying if he said that didn't drive him a little closer to the edge.
He swallowed, feeling Brandon's hand against his adam's apple.
"Fuck," Brandon groaned, deepening his thrusts impossibly so. "you're so pretty like this, Wemm, all pretty under me." Wemmbu whined, moaned at that.
Fuck. Fuck, he was so-
"You're all mine, Wemm. Mine." Brandon near-growled, hand still on Wemmbu's neck. Wrapped around it. Almost like he was staking his claim.
Almost like a collar.
Wemmbu's vision whited out at that realisation, barely even aware of his orgasm it was that good.
Brandon moaned at that and Wemmbu couldn't help but mirror the noise back at him.
Fuck.
Brandon hadn't even touched him yet.
Okay, so, maybe Wemmbu's been plagued by the idea of Brandon claiming him. Maybe Wemmbu kind of really badly needed Brandon to collar him.
But, what was he supposed to do, admit that to Brandon?
No way. No fucking way.
So, here he was. On a BDSM shop's website. 'Cause he'd rather die than be seen in an actual store. Looking through their different options for collars.
He wasn't sure, really. There were so many options. He wasn't even really sure what he wanted, truthfully. If he could be a little bit more normal about things, he would ask Brandon to pick one out. Brandon would probably not even let him see it until they'd play with it.
The thought made him a little hot.
He quickly waved it off, trying once more to focus on all the different options. (Okay, maybe he looked at every collar with the thought "would Brandon pick this one?" now. So what if he did.) In the end, he decided upon a rather simple one. It was a dark, smooth, leather one. Black - of course. Brandon's colour.
And, okay, maybe he picked this one because he could pick out a custom tag with it. Maybe that influenced his decision slightly. Maybe he wrote "Brandon's property" in the option for engraved text.
So what if he did - sue him. He was already too far in to not fully commit to it, at this point.
He pressed order, hoping to quickly forget about the embarrassment coursing through his veins and the semi in his pants. Maybe he should go annoy Brandon.
--
Apparently, forgetting about the embarrassment meant forgetting about the whole ordeal.
So when Brandon texted him a picture of a box that arrived, attached with the text "Did you order something? Says it's for you." Wemmbu cursed himself, then rushed to reply with a quick "Don't touch. It's for something I'm doing."
Right. Not suspicious at all, sure, but he kind of forgot about it. And coming up with an excuse on the spot isn't necessarily his strong suit.
Still, Brandon only replied with a quick "alllright" and, really, Wemmbu had hoped that was enough to get Brandon off his back.
When he got home from the errands he'd been out running, he quickly swiped the box off the table top Brandon had placed it on. He looked it over quickly, but it seemed Brandon hadn't touched it at all.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
"So..." Wemmbu's gaze shot up, Brandon stood there in the door opening, one eyebrow raised and arms folded over top each other. "What's inside?"
Wemmbu gulped, feeling caught under Brandon's gaze. "I- wh, nothing. Just, uhm-" He looked around, trying to find inspiration for an excuse. "Some... prop?" He settled on. "Why do you care, bro." He laughed, trying to shrug if off.
He smirked at Wemmbu, "Sure, dude, if you say so."
Wemmbu knew it was a bad excuse - Brandon didn't believe him for shit. He was smarter than that. But, Brandon wasn't the type to press it if it wasn't needed. And, lucky for him, Brandon didn't find it necessary this time.
He mumbled something about working on his unstable script and made his way back upstairs. Box still tightly held in his hand.
Even though it'd been a bit since he'd even last thought about it, the memory of the collar still got him hot under his skin.
He debated opening the box already. But, Brandon was still home. It wouldn't be unlike him to check up on Wemmbu later on. And he did not want Brandon to catch him with a collar in his hands. No way.
He felt a bit guilty, keeping this fantasy from his lover, but he just wasn't sure his sanity could bear bringing it up himself. He hadn't actually thought about how he would bring it up at all, anyways.
Maybe he just never would, he thought to himself. Delusionally so - especially when just imagining Brandon collaring him has him already sporting a semi - but, for now he'd go for it.
The box he left under his desk, untouched and taped shut. He wasn't risking touching it now. Not when Brandon was still home and could walk in any second, on him with collar in hand.
Brandon had plans that night, though, he knew.
The excitement of it all kept a light buzz under his skin.
He acted relatively normal for the rest of the day. As normal as he could get. Brandon definitely knew something was up, but Wemmbu was mildly grateful he didn't ask about it. He wasn't sure he'd be able to come up with an excuse again.
When Brandon left that evening, it didn't take long for Wemmbu to gather himself together. He needed to hold it in his hands, feel the leather material on his fingers.
He masacred the package for a bit with a pair of scissors before finally being able to get inside. He swallowed when he opened the box up as he's met with the sight of the collar.
Carefully, now, he reaches in. Holding the collar in his hands.
He runs his fingers over the smooth edges of the collar, admiring the craftsmanship. Admiring the deep dark colour.
His gaze falls on the tag, and he blushes. God. Fucking hell. What was he thinking, "Brandon's property"? Really?
Still, he can't help but feel the slight strain in his pants as he stares at it.
That's enough to snap him out of it, honestly. He quickly shoves the collar in the back of his closet. He'll think about what to do with it later on.
--
Right, so, he didn't think about it. Well, the fleeting concept was there, every once in a while, of Brandon owning him. But he didn't really think of a plan to introduce the collar into their relationship.
So there they were. Brandon standing in front of him, with the collar in his hand. Wemmbu sitting on the couch, red as a beet and mouth agape.
Fucking hell.
"Wemm, wanna explain this?" Brandon started, questioning look on his face.
"I- well, I, okay, dude- I- I just didn't... I didn't..." Wemmbu attempted, trailing off. He groaned, sinking further into the couch, covering his face with his hands.
He felt a careful hand on his knee, grounding him. He pulled his hands away to see Brandon sitting next to him on the couch, genuine look in his eyes. Right. It's his boyfriend. Brandon won't judge him for this. Okay, maybe he will, but he's too far in now to do anything about it.
He breaks eye contact, staring at his hands fidgeting in his lap now. "I- Sorry," he sighed "I just- I don't know. I didn't mean to keep it, but I just- and then- I-"
Brandon's squeezed in the grip on his knee. "You're okay, Wemm. I also-" he paused, "Do you... want to use this? Sometimes?"
"Yeah, I- yeah. I... when... you know." He groaned, throwing his head back and covering his eyes again, mumbling something out quickly.
Brandon rubbed his thumb on Wemmbu's knee, attempting to comfort. Wemmbu sighed, "I- you, that one time... when it was your hand around my neck, you know?" He said, looking at Brandon through the gaps in between his finger tips.
Brandon frowned in thought, for a second, then. "Oh," Brandon said, "Yeah. Yeah, no, makes sense. You came untouched, then, right? Fuck, baby, I didn't know it was because of that."
"I-" Wemmbu coloured an even deeper red, he could just about explode right now. "Don't bring that up!" He whined.
"Sorry, baby, sorry. But this... when did you get this? Don't tell me-" Brandon started looking at Wemmbu almost incredulous.
"Yes, the package." Wemmbu grumbled. "Fuck you, bro."
Brandon laughed at that, "Okay, okay, sorry. Point taken. So, what? You wanna wear a collar during sex?" He asked.
Wemmbu bit his lip as to not make any noises at just that. "No, I-" he took a deep breath. Quieter, now "Wanna be collared. Wanna be yours."
Brandon's breath hitched. Right. Same thing, but not the same at all. God he was a sucker for this man. "Yeah... I can do that." He said, eyes taking in Wemmbu in his whole. Even after years, he could still manage to surprise Brandon.
"What else? Do you want any extra rules for the collar?" Brandon asked.
Wemmbu looked at him, a bit puzzled, truly thinking about the question. After another second of hesitation he added "I- don't know, I just want you to decide... Maybe. I don't know."
"Have you tried one before?" Brandon asked, trying to see where the limits lay with this new thing introduced in their bedroom. Wemmbu, coloured a beautiful red, looked up at him again. "No. I- you- before you I never had the thought." He confessed, averting his gaze.
Brandon was pretty sure he could jump him right here right now, fuck, he was so into this. He just had to make sure they were on the same page, here. He couldn't pin him to the couch and fuck him right here right now.
He wanted to, though.
Really fucking wanted to.
"Okay, that's okay. We can just, try it out. You have your safeword system, yeah? And you can tell me, if you want something. And- hey, look at me," Brandon said, stern but still gentle in his tone. Wemmbu locked eyes with him. "Tell me, okay? Tell me if you want something."
Wemmbu nodded at that. "Words, Wemmbu." Brandon reminded him. "I- yeah, yeah. I'll- I will tell you. I... yeah, I'll try." He said, feeling small under Brandon's gaze.
"Okay." Brandon said. "That's good."
He squirmed under Brandon's words. Now that his secret was out there, he was kind of hoping Brandon would do something about it. His gaze fell on the collar again, tag dangling in the air. He swallowed.
The air felt tense, but Brandon wasn't making a move yet. He was about to whine about it when he realised. Fuck, Brandon was immediately making him say he wanted the collar. And wanted it now.
He looked up at Brandon, who looked at him with an intense and expectant stare.
"Can you..." Wemmbu started, trailing off, unsure. "Can... we use it, now?" He asked, "Please" he added quickly after.
He felt tense in his body as. He knew Brandon wouldn't say no, but, still. The pause made him nervous.
"Yeah, come here." Brandon motioned for him to get on the ground between his legs. Wemmbu had already got semi hard at the entire interaction, and the idea of kneeling so Brandon could collar him only made his dick stir in his pants more.
He moved off the couch, placing himself in between Brandon's legs. Looking up at him.
Brandon tucked a stray hair behind Wemmbu's ear.
Despite the confidence he was feigning, he was really, really into this as well. The collar being in his colour, too? He wasn't sure if Wemmbu picked it out like that. He hoped he did, though. It didn't matter much either way.
His finger grazed over Wemmbu's chin, tipping it back. Wemmbu went easily. Willingly.
God. Usually he'd have to fight for obedience like that. Not that he minded the fight, but, this... No, he didn't mind this either, every so often.
His finger traced Wemmbu's neck. He looked up at Wemmbu's face, only to notice all his focus already on him. His breath hitched, the hand still holding the collar tightening in grip.
Wemmbu looked a little dazed - already almost fully out of it. From so little. Brandon was pretty sure he was gonna get addicted to having Wemmbu on his knees, like this.
He took another few seconds to admire Wemmbu. Apparently, a few seconds too long. A low whine from Wemmbu snapped him out of it, clearly getting a little impatient. A smirk curled on Brandon's lips.
He dropped his gaze to the hand still holding the collar. His collar. His to give to Wemmbu. His to claim Wemmbu with.
He clasped open the collar, and the noise drew a quiet moan out of Wemmbu. Fucking hell, at least Brandon wasn't the only one going a little insane about this.
He brought the collar closer to Wemmbu's neck, holding his breath as it touched the soft skin. His gaze wandered back over to Wemmbu's, whose eyes were now completely fixed on him. Wemmbu, who was breathing heavily.
He clicked the collar shut, eyes still focused on Wemmbu's reaction. And it was more than he could ever hope for.
Wemmbu's eyes glazed over, pupils expanding slightly. Brandon choked on a breath. "Wemm..." he spoke, softly, incredulous. "you're going to be the death of me, baby." He said, and brought Wemmbu in for a kiss.
Wemmbu gave in without any resistance - not even attempting his usual, though always futile, fight for dominance. He simply let Brandon take him and, god, Brandon just about wanted to swallow him whole.
He pulled away, fingers grazing over Wemmbu's cheek, as Wemmbu still sat there so obediently between his legs. A low whine escaped Wemmbu, but he didn't complain any further.
Not like he could've, with how gone he already was. Just from a collar.
Brandon let go of Wemmbu's face, fingers trailing lower. Trailing over the collar.
"You're so pretty for me, Wemm. So nice and obedient already. My little mutt, hm?"
Wemmbu moans lowly at that, shifting in his position. It brought Brandon's attention to the evident hard-on straining in Wemmbu's pants.
What was Wemmbu still doing on the ground, again?
"Get up for me, Wemm?" Brandon asked, already moving to support him in the action. Which, good, since as soon as Wemmbu attempted to stand on two feet he was already obviously shaky in his legs.
Brandon holds him steady by his waist, making sure he doesn't fall over. "Clothes off, Wemm." Brandon says, earning him a quiet whine in response. "I know, baby, but it'll be easier for later. I'll help you, okay?" He replied, moving a hand to tug at Wemmbu's waistline.
With a minimal amount of struggle, they manage to get Wemmbu's pants off. Well. Brandon did most of the work, really. Wemmbu mostly just stood there, shaky - already a little stupid. Brandon doesn't mind much. He likes taking care of Wemmbu. Especially when Wemmbu was already so nice and pliant for him.
He runs his hands under Wemmbu's hoodie, feeling the soft skin beneath. Wemmbu trembles under his touch, quickly moving to hold on to Brandon's shoulders for balance.
"Brandy," he whispered, whined, as a hand found his chest. Fingers playing with his nipples. "Please-" he gasps out, beggs, not even sure what for. He feels a little out of it, already, like he usually did when Brandon's fucked him all good, but-
"Arms up, Wemm" Brandon's voice cut clear through his thoughts, and he obeys without even fully registering the words. "Good" Brandon spoke. And Wemmbu shudders at that, weak in his knees. He might've whined - probably did, if Brandon's breath hitched like that.
Brandon moves him onto the couch, laying him on his back. Wemmbu closed his eyes as he felt a hand intertwine with his own, pinning him down to the couch. He arches up into Brandon's presence above him, almost like he's presenting his body to him.
He feels Brandon's lips on his neck, kissing around and on the collar. Wemmbu moans as a hickey gets sucked into his skin, just below the collar.
Wemmbu hasn't even noticed Brandon's other hand roaming over his body, not until he feels a finger circling his entrance. A gasp, "Bran-" he gets cut off by Brandon's mouth on his, taking his breath away. Brandon removes his hand, action accompanied by a muffled moan from Wemmbu.
He doesn't register the hand no longer pinning him down or the sound of a bottle of lube opening. But, when Brandon pulls away from the kiss and presses a - now lubed - finger against him, he whines desperately.
"Please," Wemmbu gasps, and Brandon can't help but comply. He places another kiss over the collar on Wemmbu's neck as he presses his finger inside, and Wemmbu lets out a low moan.
Brandon focuses on working Wemmbu open, lowly panting into Wemmbu's neck - into the collar, mouthing at it. Fuck, he may be a little obsessed.
A low growl leaves him as Wemmbu squirms below him, attempting to get more. He didn't even intend to, really, but when Wemmbu stills below him it still feels so satisfying. He's not even sure why, really. Maybe something about Wemmbu being his. Wemmbu under him. Wemmbu listening to him.
He bites into the skin in front of him, leaving another mark amongst many on Wemmbu's neck, and inserts another finger inside. Wemmbu whines and moans beneath him, but otherwise takes whatever Brandon gives him so beautifully.
Brandon licks over the indented teeth marks in Wemmbu's neck and kisses over the hickeys left as he works him open. Slowly, carefully still - he doesn't want to damage what's his.
He moves up to stare at Wemmbu's face and, God. Wemmbu has coloured a beautiful pink, sweat beads scattered over his skin and mouth wide open in pants and moans and mewls. His eyes are scrunched shut, head tilted back to present his neck to Brandon. Brandon scissors open his fingers inside Wemmbu, and looks for a reaction, eyes fixed on Wemmbu's face.
And he gets one. A low moan as Wemmbu opens his eyes, rolled so far back he doesn't even notice Brandon.
Brandon stills, for a second - immediately earning him a whine - and adjusts his body higher up. He sloppily kisses Wemmbu as he starts thrusting his fingers inside again. Wemmbu, finally, seems to realise his hands are free, and grips one hand onto Brandon's arm desperately.
When Brandon pulls away again a string of saliva connects them. Wemmbu gasps as a finger brushes past his prostate, immediately followed up by another moan. "Please" he begs, tears starting to form on his waterline. Brandon presses a quick peck to his mouth and one more finger inside of him.
He tightens his grip - still on Brandon - and moans as the digits thrust along the wall of his prostate. Wemmbu is pliant under Brandon, letting him make quick, efficient work of the rest of prep. They're both pretty desperate for it, by now.
Brandon marks Wemmbu up a little more around his collar. Kissing him over, under, around - anywhere near it. Wemmbu groans as Brandon sinks his teeth in once more, and he feels the grip on his arm tighten impossibly more.
It doesn't last, Wemmbu quickly loosening his tight hold, but the prospect still has Brandon a little delirious. He licks over the mark left behind as he slowly pulls his fingers out, earning him a whine.
Wemmbu finally moves his hand back, placing it next to the old one but still grabbing onto the sheet below. "Brandon" he gasps.
Without really thinking about it, Brandon shoves the fingers he just used to open Wemmbu up inside Wemmbu's mouth. It doesn't taste good, probably, with the lube and all that, but Wemmbu still moans about it. Brandon slowly pumps his fingers inside, spreading them out over Wemmbu's tongue, and watches the sight intensely. His breath is paused, but hitches when he notices a tear roll over Wemmbu's face.
"Fuck" Brandon gets out without even realising "you're- Wemm," he pauses, looking for the right words. "pretty, pretty little thing. My pretty little thing."
Wemmbu squeezes his eyes shut, moaning at the praise. "Please," his hand moves up to his neck, and his eyes flutter back open as he grabs onto the collar, making eye contact with Brandon.
"Yours." He says, and it's barely more than a whisper.
Brandon moans lowly at that, hand lowering to wrap around Wemmbu's dick as he nips at Wemmbu's throat. Wemmbu gasps at the contact, arching up into it, another tear slipping down his face. "Please, pleasepleaseplease, fuck, Brandy, please" he begs.
Brandon strokes him once, twice. Just to hear the pretty moans and begs falling from Wemmbu's lips.
When he removes his hand, Wemmbu whines in protest. Though the protest doesn't last long when shortly after Brandon lines up and starts pushing his cock inside of Wemmbu.
Brandon groans at the wet heat engulfing his tip and presses further inside, until Wemmbu has taken him fully. As he bottoms out they both moan in unison, albeit Wemmbu certainly sounds needier.
"So good, for me, baby," Brandon says, pressing another kiss to Wemmbu's neck. He takes in the sight of Wemmbu beneath him. Eyes fully glossed over, sweat and tears dripping on his face, neck fucked up with hickeys that mark him as Brandon's. And the collar. That goddamn collar solidifying the claim he holds on Wemmbu.
Brandon tugs on it, pulling Wemmbu up by the collar to kiss him slowly. Wemmbu moans into the kiss, pliant under Brandon as Wemmbu lets him explore his mouth.
Brandon pulls back, and starts up his thrusts into Wemmbu. "So pretty," he praises, and Wemmbu squirms under it - moves his hands to grab at Brandon - anywhere. He ends up getting his hands under Brandon's shirt, pulling at it.
Brandon gets the memo and pauses, for a second, to get the shirt off.
Pleased, Wemmbu's hands return, now raking his fingernails over Brandon's back. He moans as a change in angle hits a particularly good spot, and presses his fingernails into Brandon. "Please," he begs, not even sure what for. Brandon knows what he needs, though, and starts building up the pace, making sure to focus on hitting Wemmbu's prostate.
"So good for me, Wemm. Such a pretty mutt." He groans out, and Wemmbu mewls at that - at everything. It's all so much, but he doesn't want any less. Whatever Brandon gives him is exactly what he needs, and he's more than content with that.
A hand wraps around his dick again, and his eyes roll to the back of his head. Brandon's pace doesn't falter, instead matching the strokes with his thrusts.
Wemmbu's suddenly a lot closer than he realised, and he only gets a second to warn Brandon with a "Brandy- Close, fuck, please." Brandon simply hums, speeds up the hand on Wemmbu's dick, as he bites Wemmbu's neck again - just below the collar.
That's all it takes for Wemmbu to come, really, gasping and mewling out Brandon's name as he gets milked dry by the hand on his dick and pressure on his prostate.
Brandon doesn't stop, though, and tears roll down Wemmbu's face again as the overstimulation slowly seeps in.
He hears a low grumble of "I know, baby, I know" in his ear, and responds to it with a whine. The thrusts inside his body seem to speed up, just as the strokes on his dick get more messy and irregular. Wemmbu's hard-on never even fully got to go down again after his first orgasm and he already feels the second one building up. He's moaning, tears dripping down his face.
It's all so much.
"Ha, fuck, Wemmbu." The calling of his name brings him back to earth, and he forces his eyes to focus on Brandon above him. Brandon, visibly disheveled himself, sweat dripping down his body. Wemmbu presses his nails into Brandon's back again, unable to respond with anything but a moan.
"So good, so pretty." Brandon gets out. "Mine, fuck." he interrupts himself with a moan, hips stuttering "My mutt."
Wemmbu's vision whites out as he comes a second time, orgasm forced out of him. He feels Brandon fill him up with his own orgasm, somewhere in the back of his mind it registers as another claim on his body. On him.
When he comes to, Brandon is collapsed into him. Low panting matching his own gasps for breath. His vision still feels hazy and his body floaty, but at least he's aware again.
He matches his breath to the pants Brandon lets out, feeling the tiredness after a good fuck seep through his body.
When Brandon pulls out shortly after he whines lowly at the loss. He's pretty sure Brandon says something in response, but he doesn't really register it.
All of a sudden, he's lifted up into the air, and his legs wrap around Brandon's torso upon instinct. He gets carried upstairs and feels the pressure of something tapping against his lips. Obedient, he opens his mouth, and the taste of water enters his mouth. All of a sudden he realises how thirsty he really is, and he quickly gulps down all the water inside.
His eyes are finally able to focus a bit, and he sees Brandon towering above him. He realises he's been sat down on the edge of the bath tub, water already running to fill it up.
The now empty cup is moved out of the way, somewhere, and Brandon's hand caresses his cheek. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes.
"Good?" Brandon's voice breaks the silence. Wemmbu hums in response, "yeah," he says, contentness clear in his voice. "better than ever."
Brandon fuzzes over Wemmbu - as he always does. Especially after a scene like that. He loves it, knows Wemmbu does too, when he gets to bring him to tears, but he still feels the need to make extra sure that Wemmbu is pampered after.
Wemmbu is mostly compliant. Especially when he was - is - so deep in subspace. It makes it easy for Brandon to work him through al the steps of aftercare. Usually, Wemmbu puts up a higher resistance to being taken care of. Not because he dislikes it, not at all. Brandon figures it's got something to do with his fragile ego. It's kind of cute, if not a mild nuisance at times, but right now he appreciates being able to take care of Wemmbu.
Though, Wemmbu does protest through some part in the process - which, of course he does, it's Wemmbu. Brandon moves to take off the collar, but Wemmbu nearly cries at that, and not the good type of crying.
He would put up more of a fuss about it, but, really, the thought of Wemmbu needing the collar this bad. Needing Brandon's claim over him in a physical accessory on his body, so much so he almost cries about it...
Well, let's just say that by the time they're in bed and Wemmbu's half asleep, Brandon's more than happy as he's playing around with the collar in his hand.
He never quite got to admire the collar before. More focused on it simply being there rather than the details. Now when he sees all the marks he left on Wemmbu in a clearer headspace, he feels like he may have overdone it. Not that he would've liked it any differently, though. There's something deeply satisfying about traces of him, all over Wemmbu's body. Left in plain sight for everyone to see.
The dim light from his nightstand reflects on the tag, drawing his attention to it. He turns it over in his hand, and.
His breath hitches.
"Brandon's property" engraved into it clear as day.
He looks up at Wemmbu, now fully dozed off, looking at peace.
Fuck, this man was going to be the death of him some day.