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Seb has really gotta stop giving himself away so fucking completely, is the thing.
It’s just- the interviews, right, the goddamn press tours, they go on so long and they’re so fucking interminable he kind of loses track of what’s appropriate, maybe. And then all of a sudden he’s letting his mouth run on about handcuffs, he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, he’s overtired and he wants a cigarette and next to him Anthony doesn’t even give away that he’s thinking anything about the situation at all.
(Seb should really know better than to think Anthony’s actually let it go.)
It’s years, literally years, later, and he’s completely forgotten about the whole thing. They’re on location for Civil War, a light runsheet for once and done shooting for the day, and Seb doesn’t even ache all the way down to his bones the way he usually does after a day of stunt-heavy filming. It’s a goddamn miracle is what it is. He’s lying down in his trailer, has stripped out of his wardrobe gear and stalled out completely on changing back into plain clothes so he can go home to the serviced apartment. He thinks about getting up. Feels like too much effort, he thinks, and scratches lazily at his belly. Someone knocks at the door.
“Come on in,” he yells, not bothering to get up, because it’s gonna either be Chris or Mackie and he doesn’t give a shit about either of them seeing him shirtless in his gym shorts, tired and a little sweaty and totally bored by everything in the fucking world.
It’s Mackie. He lets the door bang shut behind him, flicks the lock. Seb pushes himself up into a slightly more upright position, runs a hand through his hair.
“Hey, what’s up, man? If you’re here to convince me to go out with you tonight, I’m way too fucking tired for that shit. Been trying to get my ass off this bed for the last half-hour so I can go home, but-” He gestures at himself, his complete lack of motivation, and Anthony laughs. Flops down on the bed next to him and pokes him in the ribs.
“Look at you, laid out like a damn spread for me,” he teases, “you never hear of a shirt, Sebastian?”
“Too hot for a shirt,” Seb shrugs. “I gotta wear, like, fifteen fuckin’ layers on set, I’m gonna lie around in as little as possible when I can. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Anthony agrees, “I do. ‘s not like I mind.”
“Perve,” Seb mutters, stretches up for a kiss. He thinks it’ll just be quick, soft and nice and lazy, but Mackie turns it slow, filthy, a little sharp with teeth, and Seb hums, pleased, into Mackie’s mouth. “If that’s what you came by for, I could be convinced,” he says, collapsing back into the pillows, and Mackie grins at him, eyes bright.
“Actually,” he says, and pulls something out of his pocket. Dangles a pair of handcuffs from one finger. Seb stares.
“Where did you-”
“Stole ‘em from props,” Mackie says. “Figured they wouldn’t miss a pair, they’ve got like a hundred. You want to play, baby?” Seb can feel his eyes going wide, his cheeks heating up.
“What the fuck are you…” he starts, and Anthony grabs one of his wrists, snaps a cuff around it, pushes him back.
“If you don’t want this, then tell me now,” he says seriously, and reaches for Seb’s other hand.
Seb doesn’t say no. Seb is already half-hard and flushing hot, sweat beginning to prickle in the hollow of his lower back. He lets Anthony take his hand, fingers tight around his wrist, and then instead of just closing the other cuff around it, Anthony swings one leg up over Seb’s hips, straddles him, evaluates the bed thoughtfully.
“You think if I cuffed you to this you’d be able to not break it?” he asks. Shakes the wooden bedframe. Seb rolls his eyes.
“I know I got beefed up and all, but come on,” he says, and Anthony laughs. Pokes his bicep.
“You punched out a door on set yesterday, baby, it’s a reasonable question.”
“Shut up,” Seb says sulkily. “I didn’t mean to, it was an accident, I didn’t break it.” Wriggles with embarrassment, which grinds his dick up against Mackie’s ass, and the friction makes Seb keep going, lifting his hips up into it. Anthony smacks his cheek lightly.
“Stop that,” he says, “not yet,” and Seb goes still, pliant and breathless. They’ve done this before, Mackie’s figured out how he likes it, all the orders and the slapping, little edges of pain that get him begging for it, but handcuffs. That’s new.
“Hurry up, then,” he says, like a brat, and Anthony doesn’t smack him again. Just touches his palm to Seb’s cheek, cups it very tenderly, and Seb whines a little in the back of his throat.
“Patience,” Anthony says, teasing and fond, but he pulls Seb’s hands into position, loops the chain of the cuffs behind one of the wooden slats of the headboard, locks the open cuff around Seb’s right wrist. “Too tight, or are you good?”
Seb tests it out. Pulls a little, feels the metal of the cuffs bite a sharp edge into the bone of his wrist. He thought maybe props cuffs would be fake but they’re the real deal, hard metal and a tight locking mechanism, sturdy enough he’s not gonna be able to pop them loose the way you can with shitty sex-store versions. Oh god, oh god, it’s good, it’s so good.
“Perfect,” he says, feeling himself begin to get floaty already. His voice always drops, like, an octave when they’re doing this, goes low and gravelly, and Anthony must hear it because he leans down, kisses Seb real softly. Smiles against his lips.
“Yeah,” he agrees, “yeah, you look good like this, Sebastian, you know you do.” He sits back, ass still pressed down against Seb’s dick in a way that is frankly unfair, and traces his fingers down the delicate skin of Seb’s inner biceps, laughs when Seb squirms. “Oh, you ticklish?” he asks. Keeps going, light little touches that make Sebastian tense up, and then Anthony’s fingers are tracing down his armpits, over the curve of his ribs, up and down his sides. Seb’s biting his lip hard, trying not to laugh, trying not to wriggle, trying not to buck Anthony right off.
“Augh-” he gasps, “oh god, Anthony, you dick, that-”
“Yeah?” Anthony says. “You are ticklish, huh, look at you,” and then he drags his fingertips up from Seb’s ribs to his pecs, pinches both his nipples at once hard and sharp. Rolls them between thumb and forefinger. Seb gasps. Arches up into it, and Mackie twists, and Seb has to swallow down a shout.
“Jesus Christ,” he gets out, “you’re in a mood.”
“Can’t help it, baby, I got you like this, your ass is mine,” Anthony tells him, and Seb’s breath hitches at the thought that Mackie might fuck him like this, cuffed to the bed with his legs spread wide. God, it must show all over his face, because Anthony just laughs. Rolls his hips. “Nah, sugar, you’re gonna give me what I want,” he says, pinches and twists again even harder, and this time Seb yelps before he remembers they’re in a trailer with thin walls and about a hundred different people still on set. “You gonna let me ride your dick or what, huh?”
“You’d have to take off some clothes for that,” Seb snaps, feeling overheated and suddenly petulant that Anthony’s still fully fucking dressed, and Anthony shrugs. Yanks his t-shirt off over his head, and all Seb can do is stare at the reveal of smooth brown skin, the play of Anthony’s muscles. He’s a little sweaty, skin gleaming in the dim afternoon light, and Seb can’t hardly breathe for how gorgeous he is. Fuck he wants to touch. His hands flex uselessly in the cuffs and he bites his lip again, looks up at Anthony through his eyelashes, hopes it shows just how beautiful he thinks Mackie really is.
“You feeling overwhelmed already?” Anthony asks, a little concerned, and Seb shakes his head.
“Jesus, sweetheart, come down here so I can get my mouth on you,” he says, and Anthony smiles but does it, bends over him and lets Seb kiss at his neck, his throat, his shoulders and collarbones and pecs, the hard nub of his nipples. Fuck, he smells so good, he always smells so good, like cocoa butter and clean cotton and a little spicy from his cologne, and when Seb licks at the curve of his throat he tastes good too, the salt of fresh sweat.
“You’re gonna give me real bad stubble burn, you keep that up,” Anthony warns him, low, and Seb sighs. Nuzzles at Anthony’s throat a little longer anyway.
“Sorry,” he says, “god, sorry, you’re just so good, baby, so fucking good,” and Anthony sits back up, touches his chin.
“And the day we’re done filming and you can shave this whole mess off, I will let you spend as much time as you want doing that,” Anthony agrees. “Hell, you can eat my ass for hours if you want.”
“I could eat your ass for hours right now,” Seb shrugs, because it’s true, he could, Mackie loves the way it burns. Anthony ducks his head like he’s blushing, and Seb grins. “Come on, you know it’s true.”
“Yeah,” Anthony agrees, touches his thumb to Seb’s mouth, lets him nip at the pad of it. “Yeah, it’s true, you’re too good at that.” He unbuttons his jeans, one-handed. Palms his dick through the denim. “Ugh, I gotta stand up again to get these off, I did not plan this through.”
“Just roll onto your back,” Seb says, “I don’t give a shit if you’re clumsy about it, it’s not like you gotta seduce me.”
“Yeah, you’re easy,” Mackie agrees, “you’re a sure thing, alright,” and does just that, slides off Seb’s lap so he can struggle out of his jeans. He shucks off his underwear at the same time and Seb’s mouth goes dry when he sees Anthony’s dick, hard and flushed, gleaming a little wet at the tip. He licks his lips, tugs at the cuffs a little just for the reassuring bite. Chews at his lower lip without thinking about it, and Anthony straddles him again. This time there’s only the thin fabric of his shorts between the two of them and it’s almost too much, the way his dick snugs up between the cheeks of Mackie’s ass. He can feel himself making a wet patch already, slick and hot, and sinks his teeth harder into his lip, tries desperately not to frot up against Anthony any more than he already is.
“You wanna do anything with my dick except have me come prematurely in my pants, you better get on with it,” Seb warns, too turned on to be embarrassed about it, and Anthony nods. Leans forward and starts kissing his way down Seb’s body, biting at his nipples and sucking a dark bruise into the skin over his ribs. Tongues, wetly, over the groove at Seb’s hip, tugs his shorts down lower so he can leave another mark on the plane of muscle below the waistband. Mouths at the head of Seb’s dick through the fabric, smirks up at Seb when he makes a strangled noise. Pulls his shorts all the way down, and Seb’s dick springs free, almost smacks him in the face. Seb goes red, and Anthony snorts, presses a kiss just under the head. Takes it into his mouth, hot and wet and slick oh god slick, and then pulls back, sits back on his heels and looks at Seb with satisfaction.
“Condoms and lube?” he asks, and Seb tilts his head toward the drawer next to the bed.
“Where they always are,” he says, and Mackie reaches over, grabs them, uncaps the lube and pours a little onto his fingers. Seb thinks at first he’s changed his mind, is gonna finger Seb open after all while he blows him - and god, oh god, he is so here for that proposition - but then Anthony bends down, stretches a little, gets his mouth back on Seb’s dick and sucks him all the way down until it hits the back of his throat.
“Fuck,” Seb hisses, strangled, “Jesus Christ,” and yanks at the cuffs hard, feels his wrists begin to bruise. He can’t see what Anthony’s doing but he must have his fingers in his own ass, Jesus fucking Christ, Seb’s gotta close his eyes and think hard about stunt choreography for a few seconds until he’s reasonably sure he’s not gonna just come straight down Anthony’s throat.
“Yeah,” Anthony says, pulling away, “yeah, you’re gonna fuck me alright,” and then he’s rolling a condom down onto Seb’s dick, crawling up and reaching back to line them up.
“Are you sure you-” Seb begins, because it doesn’t seem like that’s nearly enough prep time for Anthony to be able to take his dick without it hurting. It’s not like he’s huge, or anything, but he’s big enough, and they’ve done this before. Seb knows it’s usually at least half an hour when it’s him fingering Anthony open, slow and easy, using his fingers and his mouth and his tongue to get him moaning and loose. Anthony just pushes down a little, and Seb feels the head of his dick slide in. Mackie is tight but not too tight, and Seb stares up at him, mouth open in shock. "Nghhhh. You- Jesus Christ, did you finger yourself open in your own trailer? You did. I bet you were in the shower and got thinking about it, huh. All hot after a long day. Me spread out like this, dick hard and ready for you, you worked yourself open on your own fingers, sweetheart, didn't you. Got yourself ready. No wonder you were in such a fucking mood.”
“You know it,” Anthony agrees, smug, and settles himself down in one long slide until Seb is bottoming out, and Seb’s eyes roll back in his head.
“Fuuuuuuck,” he moans, and Anthony smacks him in the mouth just hard enough that it makes everything flare hot.
“Quiet,” he says, “unless you want everyone on fucking set to know what we’re doing in here,” and then he starts moving, rolling his hips and fucking down onto Seb’s dick. “Come on, baby, you gonna help me out here or do I gotta do all the work?” he teases, and Seb blinks, plants his feet flat on the bed and drives his hips up so his dick shoves hard into Mackie’s ass. “Yeah, that’s more like it, fuck,” Mackie pants, and Seb’s real fucking glad he put all this muscle on now because even cuffed to the bed he can fuck Anthony like he means it, hard thrusts that make Anthony gasp and clench around him. They’re both dripping with sweat, and Anthony leans forward, presses his palms to Seb’s chest, rides him hard.
“Fuck, you feel good,” Seb tells him, “Jesus, sweetheart, you feel so good, you look so goddamn good riding my dick,” and shifts his hips a little so that his next thrust hits Anthony’s prostate. The noise that Anthony makes is not quite a scream but it’s close, and Seb grins up at him all teeth. “Yeah, who’s noisy now, huh?”
“You fucker,” Anthony hisses, scraping his nails down Seb’s chest, and suddenly it’s a competition, the kind of fucking that usually comes out of a day of stuntwork and fight scenes leaving them buzzing with adrenaline. Anthony’s got the upper hand with how Seb’s tied down, but Seb’s got his dick in Anthony’s ass, and he knows exactly how Mackie likes to take it, so he’s not going down without a fight.
“Yeah,” Mackie gasps, “god, yes, right there,” and Seb can’t look away from his face, how sweet his mouth is, the way his eyes flutter closed and he throws his head back.
“Yeah?” he growls, “you gonna come for me, sweetheart?”
“Nuh-uh,” Anthony says, eyes snapping back open, “you’re gonna come for me, Sebastian, that’s a fucking order,” and then he’s pinching Seb’s nipples hard and mean, and Seb comes just like that, the combination of the pain and the order and how Mackie’s got him right where he wants him all just too fucking much to resist.
“Oh shit,” he moans, “oh fuck, that-” and feels himself throb again, hard. “Unfair,” he complains when he’s got his breath back, and he’s kind of sure he probably made a lot more noise than he should have but he really doesn’t have it in him to care, right now.
“Whatever,” Anthony says, and reaches down, grabs the condom and holds it carefully while he slides off. Pulls it off, gentle, and knots the end, flings it toward the nearest trash can. Seb doesn’t know if it makes it; he’s too busy staring at Anthony’s dick, the string of pre-come that’s forming a puddle on Seb’s belly.
“Come on,” he says, “come on, come up here,” and wriggles a little, impatient.
“Yeah?” Anthony asks, soft. Touches his thumb to the corner of Seb’s mouth. “You want that?”
“Come up here,” Seb whines, “get your dick in my mouth already, Jesus.”
“Yeah,” Anthony murmurs, “that- yeah,” and then he’s moving up until his thighs are straddling Seb’s chest, his dick teasingly just out of reach of Seb’s mouth. Seb lifts his head up, strains to take it, and Mackie grabs him by the hair, pulls his head back down.
“Don’t be such a goddamn tease,” Seb snaps, loving it, knowing Anthony knows he’s loving it. Anthony’s fingers tighten in his hair, and Seb whines - predictable, he thinks, fuck, Anthony knows him too well - and then Anthony’s dick is pushing into his mouth, salty and a little bitter with pre-come, so good Seb sighs and goes slack and relaxed as he tongues over the slit.
“You want me to fuck your mouth?” Mackie asks, voice wrecked, and Seb glances up at him, eyes hooded. Of course he wants that, that’s, like, his baseline level where Mackie’s dick is concerned, and he can’t move but fuck he wants Mackie’s dick right in his throat, hot and thick and solid. “Oh, you got it,” Anthony murmurs, and shoves his hips forward, rough. Seb chokes, just a little, and then gets his rhythm, swallows around him. Jaw aching, lips stretched, he loves it, he’s moaning at the back of his throat and Anthony’s grip on his hair loosens until he’s stroking his fingers through it, touching Seb’s cheek all gentle and tender, god, Seb’s maybe a little in love. More than a little. “Oh god,” Anthony moans, “you, you’re so, god, yeah,” and he reaches for Seb’s hands, twines their fingers together. “I’m gonna come,” Anthony gasps, “fuck, I’m gonna-” and comes hot and thick, the first pulse of it into Seb’s throat and then, pulling out, all over Seb’s mouth and cheeks and chin, painting his face hot and wet.
“Oh my god,” Seb laughs, scrunching his eyes closed, and Anthony just moans again, comes a little more. It lands right on the bridge of Seb’s nose. “Oh my god.”
“Fuck,” Anthony says. Collapses sideways, breathing hard. “Fuck, sorry.” He takes a minute to catch his breath, and then rolls over, swipes his thumb through the come all over Seb’s cheek. He’s close enough Seb can see his pupils dilate, even against the dark brown of his eyes. “Oh shit you should see yourself right now.”
“Yeah?” Seb asks. Hears how low his voice is, fucked out. “That doing it for you, huh?”
“God,” Anthony says, still trailing his fingers idly along Seb’s jaw. “You know what, I’m gonna take a picture.”
“Fuck you,” Seb laughs, and Anthony reaches for his jeans, fumbles in the pocket until he can grab his phone. “Oh my god, you are. You kinky fucker.”
“You’re the one handcuffed to the bed,” Anthony points out. Aims his phone, and snaps a photo while Seb’s still smiling, gazing up at him with what’s probably love shining in his eyes. Seb can’t help it, flexes a little, narrows his eyes into a sultry glare, and Anthony wheezes with laughter, snaps another photo. Tosses his phone back onto the bed, bends down and kisses Seb, ignoring how covered in come he is. Their mouths slide slick and wet together, the kiss salty and filthy and totally goddamn perfect. Mackie licks at Seb's lips, and Seb sighs into his mouth, feeling extremely content.
“You wanna get me out of these things any time soon?” he asks, tilting his head back so he can look at the cuffs, and Anthony shrugs.
“I dunno, I kind of like the idea of leaving you like this,” he says, teasing. “I could finger you open like you wanted, fuck you nice and slow, just keep you like this all night.”
“Nghhhhh,” Seb says, intelligently, because that actually sounds like a great idea, except he’s really fucking hungry. On cue, his stomach growls, and Anthony chuckles.
“Or I could unlock you and we could go eat and then we can spend all night exploring your penchant for being locked up,” he says. Grabs his t-shirt and wipes Seb’s face clean with it, reaches for his jeans again, finds the key. He gets the cuffs unlocked, one and then the other, and lifts Seb’s arms down from above his head, rubs at his shoulders where the joints are stiff from being in one position so long. “You feeling okay, baby?” he asks, gentle. Strokes Seb’s hair again, kisses his forehead. Seb rolls onto his side. Nuzzles in against Anthony, drapes himself over his chest.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs, “yeah, ‘m so fine,” and Anthony lifts one hand, examines the ring of bruises on his wrist, the grazes where the metal edge has rubbed his skin raw.
“No more cuffs tonight,” he says, firmly, “not until these heal,” and Seb sighs. It does sting a little, especially when Anthony rubs his thumb over them, possessive. It’s so good. He loves it.
“Tomorrow, then,” he murmurs, sleepy and warm.
“Yeah, maybe,” Anthony says, non-committal. “If these have healed,” and Seb smiles against Anthony’s skin, because he’s got his number, alright. “Come on, let’s go shower and get food. You’re gonna have to lend me a shirt, man, mine’s covered in come.”
“Should have thought of that before you came all over my face instead of in my mouth like God intended,” Seb tells him, and stretches up for another kiss, slow and languid.
“Should’ve,” Anthony agrees, “you just looked so pretty, though, it was worth it,” and here’s the thing, here’s the thing: Seb’s gotta stop giving himself away, sure, except he’s given himself away so completely to Anthony, and he’s never going to regret that, probably. Not like this.