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It should be scarier, the thin line of metal that Driver can feel pressing against his exposed throat. Riskier still that the bed is jostling, the movement of the knife oh so subtle but so very there, threatening to dig a little too deep with every bounce. He has to keep his breathing steady, even, controlled. He has to focus. It’s hard, though, when the pleasure is so all-consuming, winding him up as he suppresses every twitch and tug in his body.
“Fuck, you really like this, huh?” Luke growls, that classic self-satisfied smirk on his face.
Driver calculates the risk, then nods as small as he can.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” Luke says. He’s perched on top of Driver, chest arched over him as he fucks himself on Driver’s cock. One hand holds the knife to Driver’s throat; the other wraps around both of Driver’s wrists, pinning them into the bed above his head. Luke easily overpowers him, all solid, reckless muscle.
The adrenaline from the job still pumps through their veins. A bag of money sits on the floor of Luke’s trailer. They haven’t even had a chance to count it.
This has happened a few times, these thrill-fueled, feverish couplings, enough that it’s become something of a ritual for them. Something to look forward to. It is, however, anything but predictable; Luke has a way of keeping Driver on his toes.
Driver, in anticipation, kept a plug in during the job, ready for Luke to bend him over and take him at a moment’s notice. Luke thought it was adorable, but he had other ideas in mind.
When Luke rolls down again and squeezes around him, Driver can’t help the soft moan that escapes his throat. The vibration makes his skin flutter against the blade. He tilts his head back in pleasure, baring his throat further, letting Luke hold his life in his hands.
“I could end you right now,” Luke says. His voice is shaky, on the cusp of a groan as he chases his own pleasure with little regard for Driver’s. “I could slice you open and keep all that fuckin’ money for myself if I wanted.”
“But you won’t.” A tiny whisper.
Luke stills his hips and presses the knife further down. “You don’t know that.”
Driver’s breath hitches, his eyes widen. He knows that what he said is true, that Luke won’t actually hurt him that much, but the way Luke speaks without a hint of doubt sends a shiver down his body that curls around the pleasure inside of him, constricting and condensing it into something even more primal. He can feel every contact point amplified: Luke’s hand constricting his wrists, the weight of him on his hips, the warm pressure squeezing around his cock. He can’t tell if Luke actually presses the knife down or not, but it feels sharper either way. The metal of the knife complements the metal of the plug still pressing inside of him.
Luke is barely even moving at the moment, but Driver feels himself barreling towards the edge. The “please” that tumbles out of his mouth is hardly audible.
“What was that, pretty boy?” Luke asks, cocking his head in mocking curiosity.
“Please,” Driver repeats.
“Christ, you’re always so fucking quiet.” Luke returns to rolling his hips, taking his time to feel the slide of Driver’s cock in and out of his hole. He groans, practically growls. “Lemme hear you, baby girl. Make some noise for me.”
The demand sparks something oppositional in Driver. “Make me,” he breathes.
Luke’s brow furrows. He tosses the knife to the side and Driver almost whines at the loss before it’s replaced by Luke’s hand grabbing his jaw from below, fingers pressing into his cheeks. It’s rough. It hurts. Driver whines, still a tiny sound.
“Yeah, I fuckin’ will,” Luke growls as he begins moving his hips faster, arching as he lifts and tilting back as he sinks down again. His hand moves to Driver’s throat, holding firm but not yet squeezing.
The combination of the bounce and the roll does the job; Driver whines, nearly sobs, as he tries to keep his hips from bucking up. The knife may not be at his throat now, but he knows better than to move on his own. He needs to be good.
Every time Luke sinks back down onto Driver’s cock, his hips press down on Driver’s and the pressure pushes the plug in his ass against his prostate, a jolt of pleasure in tandem with the velvety slide of Luke around him. Driver’s mouth falls open as it overwhelms him, eyes rolling back despite how much he wants to keep them trained on the beautiful man above him. A long, high moan follows. Then more, punched out by Luke’s determined rhythm. The softness of his voice is still apparent in the wanton whines.
Luke’s untouched cock twitches at the sound. “Good boy, yeah, lemme hear you. Fuck, baby, you feel so good, hittin’ me just right, god—“
“Luke, mmmmmm—“ Driver mewls, “I’m, I’m g— I’m close—“
Luke’s hand contricts around Driver’s throat. “Don’t,” he pants, “I’m not done with you.”
Driver squeezes his eyes shut and nods. He doesn’t know if he can keep his promise. He wants to be good so, so badly, but the pleasure is overwhelming. His whole body is taut, tense, threatening to burst.
Against his will, Driver feels his legs twitch and spasm as he tries to hold himself back. Luke reads his body language and stills for a moment, squeezing hard on his neck before letting go to grab the knife again.
The knife is back on Driver’s throat before he has a chance to react, before he can even catch his breath.
“Don’t,” Luke hisses, “you fucking dare.” Another cruel singular roll of his hips like a challenge.
All Driver can do is whimper and bite his lip as he feels a tear roll down his face. He tries to breathe slow and deep, tries to pull himself down from the edge. The course of action Luke has chosen, the pause of his hips and the press of the knife, has the opposite of its intended effect. Now he can feel Luke pulsing around him in even higher definition, and the weight of Luke sitting on him is continually pressing the plug against the sensitive spot inside of him. Even the twitch of his own cock inside of Luke is stimulating. Breathe. Breathe. Keep it together. Be good.
Driver opens his eyes. Luke is staring, maybe even glaring, down at him, a glint in his eyes full of unbridled lust and want and threat. There’s a cold, conductive fire there that Driver absorbs, that shoots down his body as his own breathing increases and as Luke presses the knife down even more.
“Don’t.”
Driver does. He sobs as his body tightens and his hips involuntarily roll and rut into Luke as he teeters over the edge, slow at first but past the point of no return and then tumbling through his orgasm. His chest spasms as his rhythmic contractions cascade through every muscle in his body, hot and heavenly despite the guilt, mouth falling open with a needy keen ripped from deep within him.
“You little bitch,” Luke growls.
Fondness lies behind the vitriol. It doesn’t make the slice of the knife across Driver’s chest sting any less. He cries out, entire body sensitive from the orgasm, but the endorphins and oxytocin from his release quickly morph the pain into sheer pleasure that blooms across his chest, radiating out from the spot a few inches below his collarbone. He hadn’t even registered the knife moving from his throat before it had already pierced his skin, leaving a bright trail nearly three inches long from which beads of blood begin to emerge.
Driver’s “I’m sorry” is more of a whisper as he shudders from the sensation. He repeats it over and over, tears spilling from his eyes like the blood spilling from the cut, both warm and wet and rolling across his skin. He can feel his own cum inside of Luke, slowly spilling out of him despite Driver still being inside. He’s filthy and covered in fluids and completely helpless under the muscular man above him.
“You’re lucky you’re so pretty when you cry,” Luke muses. He cradles Driver’s face, wiping some of the tears away. “Just couldn’t help it, huh?”
“I’m sorry, ‘msorry—“ Driver pants, chest hitching from the sob-induced spasms of his diaphragm. Each movement makes him more aware of the wound and the sticky blood seeping out. It isn’t too deep, at least.
“Oh c’mon baby, enough of that.” Luke’s tone is tender with top notes of a tease. His eyes are trained on the blood on Driver’s chest, pupils dilating even more.
Driver squirms, overstimulated from the pressure around his spent cock, and Luke takes pity on him and pulls off. Driver whimpers tiny and cute at the movement, more still as he feels the wetness of his own cum leaking onto Luke’s skin as he sits back on Driver’s thighs.
Luke bends forward and licks a long stripe up Driver’s chest, tongue trailing through the blood, head lingering there as he sucks it off of Driver’s salty skin. He moans as the taste hits him, grabs hold of Driver’s waist with both hands to keep him in place as he cleans him off. His tongue laves over the wound itself and Driver whimpers again.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” Luke groans into Driver’s chest. He looks up and reveals the blood smeared over his lips. Driver’s eyes, already wide, somehow get even bigger; the visual is probably the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.
Luke can’t get enough of the look on his face, those big blue puppy eyes wet and desperate and a little scared, framed by the longest eyelashes he’s ever seen on a man. He sits up to admire him. More blood spreads from the wound; Luke runs his hands over it and draws a long red line across Driver’s chest. His cock aches and his hole misses the feeling of Driver inside of him; he looks down to see Driver’s dick soft but faintly twitching.
Driver notices his scrutiny and whines in shame. He turns his head to the side, embarrassed and apologetic.
“You’ll still be of use, don’t worry,” Luke says. He presses at the plug in Driver’s hole. “Always thinking ahead, huh? Good boy.”
Driver nods and bucks into the pressure with a tiny whine. He spreads his legs.
“Not yet.”
Driver turns his head back towards Luke, brows furrowed in confusion. Shit, did he do something wrong? Did he fuck it up by finishing so soon?
“Come up here,” Luke says. He licks his lips. His hand finds the back of Driver’s neck to pull him up.
He was already a little lightheaded, and the new position makes Driver’s brain even fuzzier. He lets Luke take his hand, press something into it, and hold it against his own chest.
“Your turn.”
Driver’s brain catches up. His breath shudders as he sees the knife in his hand, the blade against Luke’s left pec. His eyes blink upwards, hesitant, uncertain. He had expected Luke to just flip him over and fuck the living daylights out of him, but of course it could never be so simple with them. His face contorts into a question, a wordless are you sure? to which Luke smirks for a moment, a dare that barely hides the desperation in his eyes. He presses Driver’s hand in a little more before letting go.
With a gulp, Driver sets his face and stares at the knife. It’s the same one Luke is constantly fidgeting with, the same one that was just held against his throat, the same one that sliced him open shortly before. Some of his own blood still stains the blade. An instinct not wholly unfamiliar takes over him: determined and hungry, a relative of the feeling he always tries so hard to avoid. This one is safer. This one feels like his own bloodletting.
Driver’s eyes flicker up and meet Luke’s as he pulls the knife across his chest and presses in, slow and deliberate. They both moan when he breaks skin. Luke’s sound is a bit more broken; Driver’s is breathy with a hint of awe. His body shakes but he keeps his hand steady, disconnected from the rest, as he opens Luke up and watches the blood pour out.
“Fuck, baby—” Luke’s eyelids flutter before closing, mouth falling open as he feels Driver cut him open.
It’s a little deeper than Driver intended, sinking further into Luke’s muscular chest, so he keeps the cut short. Blood immediately spills out, drawn down by gravity over his nipple.
Driver can’t help himself. He dives in, latching onto Luke’s nipple and licking the blood, flicking his tongue over the bud. Luke groans low and erratic as his hand comes up to grab Driver’s head, fingers running through Driver’s short hair for better grip. Driver moans into him and sucks harder. Some of the blood, still falling from the wound, collects on his upper lip. He detaches for just a moment to lick more of it up before going back to sucking, running his teeth along Luke’s nipple, biting lightly.
“So good, sweetheart, holy fuck,” Luke babbles, “lick it up like a good boy, fuck—“ he’s cut off by Driver biting down, face contorting in pleasure.
Finally, Driver pulls off and looks up at him. Luke’s heart swells as he strokes Driver’s hair, as he sees the thinned blue rings of his wide eyes and the blood smeared around his mouth. He leans down to connect their lips in an open kiss. The blood in each of their mouths mingles as their tongues slot against each other; their moans intertwine until neither can tell who is making which sound. The metallic tang is intoxicating, sharp and sticky sweet.
Driver’s hands run up Luke’s chest, over the blood, pressing down on the wound for a moment to get another groan out of Luke. They keep moving upwards, then, finally resting on either side of Luke’s face, pulling him closer. He wishes he could stretch that wound open and crawl inside of him, find safety amongst his organs and wrap himself in warm veins. This is the closest he’ll get, for now.
When they part, Driver sees that his hands have smeared more blood on Luke’s face. He removes them and licks up Luke’s cheek to clean him off.
Luke leans into it and continues petting Driver’s head. “On your back for me, baby,” he says, and presses a kiss to Driver’s temple before letting go.
Driver nods as he licks his lips. He falls back into his earlier position, this time bending his knees up and apart. As Luke gazes down at him, hunger takes over his expression again.
“I’m tempted t’make you take it from behind,” he drawls, “but I wanna keep looking at your pretty face.”
Driver keeps breathing. He doesn’t respond; he doesn’t need to. All he does is widen his legs and tilt his hips up a bit.
Luke runs a hand down Driver’s chest, down his leg, then back up his inner thigh. That’s where his patience runs out. In one quick motion he grabs Driver’s legs and hitches them over his shoulders, pulling him down on the bed and eliciting a gasp from the other man. He carefully pulls the plug out and Driver whines.
Driver doesn’t have to miss the full sensation for long. Luke is silent too, now, but the intensity of his hard-set gaze rings in Driver’s ears as he grabs the bottle of lube nearby and slicks himself up. Luke doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even check in, as he lines himself up and pushes into Driver’s hole. Driver startles himself with his own desperate moan and tries to stifle it with his hand.
“Oh, fuck,” Luke exhales as he enters him. “Fuckin’ needed this.”
Driver’s breath is uneven, shaky sounds stuttering out of him as Luke starts with shallow thrusts. The plug had held him open, yes, but it was nowhere near as long as Luke’s cock, so his body still has to adjust. Luke knows how to read him, though, and knows when Driver’s quick nod indicates that he can go harder. Rarely will Driver respond verbally; in this state, all the sounds that come out of him are involuntary.
He’s anything but silent now as Luke fucks him with fervor. Every exhale comes with a small moan or whimper that tells Luke everything he needs to know. Driver feels the stretch in his legs as Luke bends him in half and he clutches at the sheets as pleasure overtakes him once again. It’s still too soon for him to get hard again but God he wonders if he could.
“Yeah, lemme hear you,” Luke growls in his ear as he pounds into him, thrusts sharp and harsh and hurried.
Luke bites at Driver’s ear, eliciting a broken “Ah—!” that he basks in. He continues biting down Driver’s neck, latching on and sucking a dark mark into the skin.
Blood still seeps from their wounds. Luke’s is still falling fresh; Driver’s is shallower but still pools out from the line Luke drew on him. They press closer, chests sliding along each other and slick with blood, blending until they’d be unable to tell whose is whose.
“You feel so good, baby, so beautiful.” Luke’s voice does that thing Driver knows embarrasses him a little where it gets a little high, a little broken despite his efforts to sound tough. It’s hot, knowing what he does to Luke. It’s hot knowing he has this much power over him.
Luke’s thrusts get harder, more irregular, as he pounds into Driver’s hole, each thrust pulling another pathetic whimper out of Driver. He bites his lip, an instinct to quiet himself that he isn’t even aware of doing, so Luke runs his thumb along Driver’s mouth to get him to open up again. And open up he does, taking Luke’s thumb between his lips and sucking, looking up at him with dilated eyes and sad upturned eyebrows.
The sight pushes Luke so much closer to the edge. He loves seeing Driver like this, knowing Driver trusts him enough to be so vulnerable. Riding him already got him so close to his climax; he isn’t going to last long with Driver’s smooth heat surrounding his cock, squeezing him with every thrust. Secretly, he’s grateful Driver couldn’t hold himself back earlier; now he gets the chance to abuse his hole. One of his favorite activities, really.
Luke lifts himself up on one hand just enough to get a good look at Driver: hair messed up, eyes watering, that beautiful begging expression as he sucks on Luke’s thumb. Blood all over him, all over his chest, over his mouth, some matting into his hair from Luke’s grip on it earlier. Driver runs his tongue over the pad of Luke’s thumb as he sucks and it drives Luke crazy, goes straight to his dick while it pumps in and out of him at the speed Luke loves in all parts of his life.
The smell of blood and sex surrounds them, stinging their noses as they lose themselves in every sensation, and as the room fills with the sound of skin on skin.
“So close, baby,” Luke chokes out.
“Please,” Driver whines, barely coherent.
“Oh? Please what?” Luke teases.
Even like this, Driver’s voice is so soft, so gentle and rounded at the edges. “Please, in me, please come in m—oh—! Mmmmm—” He throws his head back and bites his lip again as Luke’s thrusts increase in force. He clutches at the sheets as he writhes.
“Yeah, yeah, you deserve it baby, fuck,” Luke’s words melt into his panting breath as he approaches the edge. “Gotta pay you back for—mmfuck—for finishing in me, oh shit—“
His voice cracks there, and Driver would giggle if it weren’t for the situation at hand. Luke hides his face in Driver’s shoulder as he focuses on fucking him, feels the heat in his stomach overflowing into every part of his body, muscles contracting and pulling and pulsing and he bites down on Driver’s neck again and moans as he comes, cock spasming and pumping his cum inside of him, thrusts slowing as he presses as far in as he can.
Driver can tell Luke is making sure it gets as deep into him as possible. He hopes it stays. He sobs and whines at the sensation, the satisfaction of being filled. His hands scramble to grab Luke’s head and pull him up into a kiss, sloppy and uncoordinated, teeth knocking together and tongues aimlessly reaching for each other. Luke groans into his mouth as the last waves of his orgasm wane.
Then they pull away. They press their foreheads together, breathe into each other. They come back down to the real world together, synchronized.
Luke presses a kiss to the corner of Driver’s mouth. “Feelin’ alright there?”
Driver nods, words escaping him. He knows Luke understands.
Luke pulls out and Driver whimpers, clenching his hole, not ready to let go quite yet. He gestures to the plug that’s been thrown haphazardly on the bed.
Luke’s gaze follows the gesture. “Yeah?” He smiles as he figures it out.
Driver makes a desperate sound that can only mean “Please.” Luke obliges, taking the plug and slipping it back into Driver’s hole with no resistance.
“Good boy,” he says. He strokes the inside of Driver’s thigh. “‘m gonna go get something to wipe us down, sit tight, yeah?”
Another nod. Luke smiles at Driver’s completely blissed out state as he gets up. He stumbles, swears, not expecting how weak his knees were; Driver watches with half-lidded eyes and hums a tiny, affectionate laugh.
Luke returns with a towel, damp on one side to wipe most of the blood and lube off. Gentle, he gets to work on Driver, who leans tender into his touch.
Their cuts have more or less stopped bleeding for now. Later, when they clean themselves off properly, the disrupted clotting might coax more blood out. Later, they’ll wipe it off again and then patch up each other’s wounds. Not enough energy for that yet, though.
“How you feelin’?” Luke asks. He reaches to the bedside for a cigarette.
Driver shrugs with a smile. He’s no stranger to being covered in blood, and part of him expects it to bring up old memories. All he can feel, though, is safety. Trust, even if hesitant. He’s been beginning to believe this could be real; his doubts are still there, still loud and anxious, but in moments like these he can manage to set them aside and indulge. That alone was hard to learn. Luke’s confidence, though, makes it easier.
“You?” Driver asks as his voice comes back to him. He pulls himself up to lean against the headboard.
“Fucking awesome,” Luke laughs. He lights the cigarette and lets it hang from his mouth. “Shit, we haven’t even counted the money.”
Driver chuckles. “Later.”
“Naw.” Luke gets up again to grab the bag on the floor, plopping it on the bed. “Shit, man, we did good. Woo!”
Driver gives him a look. “One thing at a time, Luke.”
Luke rolls his eyes, but for once, as he lies down next to Driver, he listens.