Christian Miller is the (imperfect_son) wrote in odysseyic, @ 2018-04-22 18:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | christian, tris |
promise me forever
Who: Tris and Chris
Setting: Their room, morning
Tris had kept up with his promise that he’d reward Chris. Every week, he’d made sure that Chris got some kind of a gift. Usually flowers, occasionally something else, but with the ship being at sea, ideas were limited. He had a good working relationship with the onboard florist now, who in turn by now had a good working knowledge of Chris’ likes and preferences, since Tris reported back about his boyfriend’s reactions each week, keeping a close eye on how he interacted with his gifts to fine tune what he’d get the next week.
The latest array had been delivered the evening before, which meant that they’d both awoken that morning to the scent of flowers drifting through their room. They’d put together coffee and had breakfast, but neither of them seemed particularly in a rush to actually get up. It was a lazy day.
Chris was in his favorite place in the world. He had his head against Tris’ sternum, fingers tracing the lines of Tris’ chest, enjoying the quiet. He always wondered why his boyfriend liked him so, when Tris was so perfectly put together. Chris always felt like his hands were too big and his shoulders not broad enough. But Tris was all lean lines.
He ran his finger along the chain around Tris’ neck to the key, then closed his eyes with a smile on his face. “I think I want another tattoo,” he murmured. He was sure Tris would be fine with that, but what he wanted might not go over well. He had no idea how Tris would feel about it.
Tris bent his head a little, running his nose through Christian’s hair, the scent of his shampoo mingling with the scent of the flowers. One hand grazed the edge of the tattoo that Chris already had, the other played at the bracelet on his wrist. “Yeah?” Tris asked, humming along beneath his breath to the music that was playing quietly in the background.
It was interesting, the way Christian could tell where Tris’ fingers were without even looking. “Yeah,” he said. “There’s these symbols. For this. For what we are…” He wasn’t sure how to explain it. “Maybe for what I am.”
Tris lifted his head a little and frowned, just a little wrinkle between his eyes that appeared when he didn’t quite understand. He looked down at Chris. “You want us to get paired tattoos?” he asked, not so much against the idea as always knowing people said it was a bad one. Something permanent in a way that relationships so often weren’t. He’d always known nothing lasted, but the longer he was with Chris, the more he wanted it.
Christian flushed pink. “No. I mean. Yes, if you want. But that’s not what I meant,” he explained. “I just wanted something for me. And for you to see, I guess?” The idea of them being permanent wasn’t even a question in Christian’s mind. It was just a matter of time before he moved them to the next step, and the one after that, on and on.
First placing a light, soothing kiss on Christian’s forehead to reassure him that he was still here, Tris rolled away, pulling open the drawer by his side of the bed and taking out a notebook and pen. He quickly flipped through it, past page after page of musical notation that he never showed to anyone, before finding a blank page and offering it to Chris. “Show me,” he prompted.
Christian sat up, sheets pooling at his hips and watching Tris move. He caught the flash of whatever Tris kept in the notebook, but didn’t press. He knew not to ask about Tris work. Tris would share it when he wanted to. He took the notebook and pen, going slow to get the circle symbol right, the joined pieces that worked together. “Like this,” he said, turning it towards Tris.
Tris took the book and considered the picture. It looked to him like a ying yang symbol, except there were three shapes, chasing each other round. “Tell me what it means.” He could infer, from the context that Chris had given him, but he wanted his boyfriend to say the words aloud. Anyway, he liked listening to his boyfriend talk about. Especially when he was educating Tris.
Christian was quiet for a moment. “It’s the three pillars essentially. Safe, sane, consensual. You can’t have one without the other. It doesn’t work without all three,” he said softly. “It’s a visual cue. That it’s what I want. Who I am.” Which was something he hadn’t admitted outright yet.
Tris dropped a hand between them, slipping a finger back under Christian’s bracelet. “Who are you?” he asked, intrigued by the way that Chris had phrased that.
Chris’ eyes fell shut for a moment, breath catching ever so slightly. “Submissive. Yours. Your baby boy,” he murmured before glancing up at Tris, as if needing to know that was the right answer.
Oh, baby, you’re so much more than that. Tris kept the thought to himself, for now. He knew that look on Christian’s face. The indication that Christian wasn’t sure if what he’d said would be acceptable. That he was worried that he’d be told he was wrong. “Of course you are,” Tris said. “You’re always mine, my baby boy.”
Christian smiled softly. “It’s okay then?” It wasn’t that he really felt he needed the permission, but Tris would see it more than he would and he didn’t want Tris to hate the idea.
There was that moment of hesitation, when Tris’ fears raised their head. Nothing lasted forever and he loved Chris so much - he didn’t want him to do anything he’d one day regret. Then again, objectively, there was nothing to specifically tie this tattoo to Tris. Submissive. Chris would always be that, regardless. It was who he was. “Of course it’s okay - if that’s what you want.”
That got a smile out of Christian and he set the notebook aside to curl up against Tris again. “It is. It feels important.” It went with his plan to figure out who he was, how he fit into the world. That had been the point of his first tattoo as well.
Tris wrapped an arm round Chris, pulling him in closer. “Well, if it feels important then you definitely have to do it. You know where you want it to go?” he asked.
“Here,” Chris said, tapping the spot on his back just below the base of his neck. It was low enough that a shirt would cover it, but high enough that it looked more like a brand.
Tris pushed him to sit up, facing away, so he could consider that properly. He hummed, approvingly. “How big?” he asked, keeping Chris in position with hands on his hips.
Christian held himself still, enjoying the pressure of Tris’ hands on his hips. “Small. Maybe a little bigger than a watch face. Enough to stand out but not a…” he turned pink again, knowing the flush spread low. “Not an invitation.”
Tris moved then, shifting so that his chest pressed against Christian’s back. Head turned in so that he could speak directly into his ear. “What would be an invitation?” he asked, teasing a little. He loved when his boyfriend thought about things more deeply than it would ever occur to Tris to do.
Christian swallowed hard. “The mark. If someone else saw. If you,” he swallowed again. “Took me somewhere to show me off,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t want someone to think they could...that I was asking for it. From anyone else.”
Tris didn’t expect the thrill that passed through him, the way that his breath caught at that idea. That was new. “Baby, if you were with me, nobody would touch you without my permission.” Which felt like both a promise and a simple statement of pure fact.
Christian smiled over his shoulder and nodded. “I would hope so,” he said softly. But he knew it. He knew Tris would take care of him. The idea though, of permission or being shown off, something in it made him shudder.
“I would know so,” Tris said with utter certainty. “If I ever took you somewhere to show you off, it would be very clear that you’re mine. You belong to me.” He traced a line up Chris’ spine, then reached forward to wrap his hand around his neck, thumb and forefinger splayed against warm skin, not anywhere close to choking, but enough that Chris could feel it. “I’d have you wear a collar. A proper one. I’d let you choose which one though.”
The motion, even if not choking, made Christian’s breath go ragged. Choking might not be a thing with them, but that possessive touch was amazing. It made him tilt his head back, into the touch. “Yes, Daddy,” he breathed softly. “Like my blue one? Or something else?”
Tris wrapped his other arm around Christian’s waist, holding him upright and close. Effectively pinning him against Tris. “That’s what choose means, baby. It could depend on what image you wanted. Something cute and pretty? Or something else? Maybe something more traditional? Or something with my name on it? What do you think - what would you want?”
Christian groaned, unable to help himself. “Maybe traditional. Something...to show that I’m owned.” His blue collar was more about how he was loved. Owned, yes. But loved above all. “With your name.”
Tris hummed at that, opening his mouth a little to cast hot breath onto the lobe of Christian’s ear. “Black leather then,” he mused. “Something soft. Malleable. I wouldn’t want you getting too sore. I saw some that had a metal ring at the front. I could hang a tag with my name on it from that - though I think those rings are really to let me pull you along by it,” Tris said, innocently.
Christian groaned again, feeling as malleable as the leather that Tris was describing. “A leash,” he agreed, nodding. “I’d like that.” Especially if they were on display. That would be more than appealing. “A name plate on the leather. Property of,” he added, since he got to pick.
That was so Chris - always taking things that one step further. Tris had been thinking about hooking a finger into that loop, just tugging. A leash had never occurred to him. Now though, the image was burned onto his brain. “...We could do a leash,” he agreed, after a moment or two. He felt hot, heart racing and pupils dilated just at the talk. He had no idea if he’d ever have the nerve to do anything that they were talking about - or if either of them would actually want it - but just fantasising with Chris was more amazing than he’d ever known and made him feel like he could do anything with this man by his side. “I love you,” he said, feeling breathless and like he was going to burst if he didn’t remind Chris of that right this very moment. He knew he didn’t say it enough.
Christian smiled, nodding at the idea. “We could. It’d be nice for...being tied up,” he added smiling and leaning back into Tris. “I love you too,” he added, tone almost reverent. He couldn’t imagine loving anyone else or as completely. How he felt for Tris left him in awe. He turned a little, so he could see Tris’ face better. “Forever. Promise.”
Tris held his gaze for a moment, then dropped his forehead to Christian’s shoulder. It was too much. It was everything. It was all he wanted and everything that terrified him. He dropped his hand from Christian’s throat to his chest, knowing he was clinging but unable to do anything else right now. He never wanted to let this man go.
Christian caught it though, the way Tris slipped from his role and into the quiet part of himself, the one that was a perfect opposite to who Chris was. He laced his fingers with Tris’, confident in that moment. “I will never stop loving you,” he whispered softly. “No matter what. I will always love you.” He nuzzled at Tris’ hairline and kissed his temple. “One day, we’ll tell the world. We’ll stand in front of our closest friends and make it official. Then we’ll grow old together. Adopt a brood of kids. All of it. And when we’re alone, I’ll be yours as completely as always.”
Tears pricked at his eyes and Tris didn’t know how to stop them. Every word - that was what he wanted. That was all he’d ever wanted. He’d never known who it would be with, when he’d imagined the future he’d always thought was so far out of his reach. He couldn’t have imagined Christian if he’d tried.
“I promise,” Christian said softly, running his fingers up and down Tris’ back. “I swear. I never want to love anyone else.”
“Okay,” Tris mumbled, barely audible, into Chris’ now slightly damp shoulder. He screwed his eyes closed and smiled a little. “I don’t want to either.”
Christian smiled himself, leaning his head against Tris’. “So that’s a yes?” He asked softly.
Tris moved his head up and down against Christian’s shoulder, unsure if he could even make himself speak past the lump in his throat, or heard past the hammering of his heart. “Yes,” he tried for, in the end.
Yes it was. Christian smiled, wrapping Tris up and peppering light kisses along his skin while his hand worked its way down Tris’ chest. If the answer was yes, then Christian could make things happen, line up the dominoes so they all fell together. It was almost easy. Give them things neither had had. But for the moment, Christian was more focused on giving Tris himself.
For once, Tris remained passive, letting Chris take care of him. Absently, he wondered if this was what it was like for Chris, when he went away. If they’d entirely swapped places right now. He knew he needed to do something, say something, but it was like there was a wall between his inner and his outer selves. And he knew Chris was there and he’d take care of him. He would always be there. For the rest of his life.
Christian didn’t expect a thing. It was his turn to take care, to make Tris feel so good and remind Tris why he’d picked Christian. He kissed his way up the column of Tris’ neck as his fingers curled around him, stroking patiently. He fumbled for the lube with his free hand, relieved it was never really far out of reach.
Tris groaned when Christian touched him, taking a shuddering breath and leaning into him a little more.
Christian swapped hands once he had the lube on his fingers, making more of a mess than Tris would, but the slicker strokes were so much better. And he didn’t have to bother with figuring out how to get more on his hands when he reached behind himself to prep. “Love you,” he murmured before kissing Tris properly, genuine kisses that were passionate but not forceful.
Tris reached for Chris, coming out of himself enough to automatically want to give back. Unused, these days, to taking without giving Chris direction, without being in control. He returned the kiss, chasing Christian’s lips with a mewling little moan when he drew back.
The noise got a smile out of Christian. “Let me,” he murmured. “Let me make you feel good daddy.” He gasped as he stretched himself then moved, guiding Tris back against the bed so Chris could straddle him.
Tris lay down, head on the pillows, arms going to Christian’s hips as he looked up at his beautiful boyfriend and wondered if they were more than that now. Tris wasn’t sure what he’d agreed to before, but whatever it was, he wanted it. He would take everything that Chris offered him. Except, right now, there was one thing more he wanted. “...Call me by my name,” he said, his voice sounding rough in his ears.
Christian blinked up at Tris, eyes confused for just a moment before he nodded. “I love you, Tristan Denham,” he murmured before lining Tris up and sinking down. It was slow, the stretch easier now that he was used to it but he wanted to take his time. There was no need to rush. Not when it was like this.
Tris pushed up to meet him, closing his eyes as he did so. Right now, he needed to be himself. Needed Chris to be with him. Not Sir, not Daddy. Just two people who loved each other. Partners in every way.
It made Christian groan, the feel of Tris filling him so completely. Not that he knew anyone else, but he couldn’t imagine it being as good. He started slow, an easy pace that was less about getting somewhere and more about enjoying the ride.
Tris rolled his hips, moving with the lazy rhythm, opening his eyes and staring up at Chris, watching him move. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered in awe.
Christian blushed, the flush dropping deeper down given what he was doing. “Not…” he murmured softly. Not like Tris. Not like he could be. Not normal like this, nothing more than a little bit of bedhead.
That single word pulled Tris back to himself again. Tris couldn’t let go when Chris doubted himself. He pulled himself up so he was sitting, arms wrapping around Christian and pulling him down and in closer. “You. Are. Beautiful,” he said, punctuating each word with a thrust of his hips.
Christian gasped with the first thrusts, his fingers gripping Tris’ shoulder hard. He nodded when it passed and wrapped his arms around Tris, rubbing their noses together. Okay. He was. Might be. Maybe to Tris. Or at least if anyone could make him feel that way Tris could.
“You are the most amazing man I’ve ever met and I wake up every day wondering how the hell I got so lucky to have you. And apparently keep you,” he said with a little laugh as he brushed a kiss across his lips.
Christian cupped Tris’ cheeks and kissed him as he rolled his hips down. “I think the same thing about you.” Always. Constantly.
Tris took over the pacing, speeding up more, still clinging to Chris, but slipping his arms round his back to sit on his shoulders, giving him better leverage to pull Chris down as he drove upward. Harder, the way he knew Chris loved it. “I never thought forever existed, but I want it with you. You’re everything I dreamed of, everything I wished for and so much more.” There was more than a small chance that he was being overly honest, but right now, Chris had all of him and he needed to know, needed to never had any reason to doubt, ever again.
Christian whimpered with how good it felt. He loved that bliss that came with being treated like he wouldn’t break. He nodded, eyes closing against tears, too caught up in how he felt to be okay with the fact that Tris wanted him. Him. When no one else, not even his own parents did.
Tris kissed him, deep and hard and then pulled back, brow wrinkling at the tears in Christian’s eyes. “Tell me you believe me. Chris - tell me you know you’re everything to me.”
Christian nodded, but he knew that wasn’t enough. “I know,” he finally admitted. “I do.” He doubted the why, wondered how he, of all people, had Tris, but he knew. He knew it even when Tris couldn’t say it.
Tris kissed him again at that, then stilled and rolled them, so that Chris was lying on his back with Tris between his legs. He took hold of each of Christian's hands, bringing them up to hold in one of his, pinned above his head as he started to move again. “You're mine. And I'm yours. Always.”
Christian gasped at the new angle, but the position was familiar and probably one of his favorites if they weren’t playing. He strained against the hold on his hands, but more for show than to actually get out of it. He arched his back and nodded. “Yes. Yours. Always.”
Tris gasped then, losing track of his words with the effort of moving of holding Chris down, of holding himself up, of finding just that right angle to drive Christian wild.
It only took a moment. Tris knew his body better than Chris and in seconds he was just where Tris wanted him, a panting mess, writhing and meeting each thrust. His words were a mess of pleas and Tris’ name, again and again.
“Can you come from just this?” Tris asked, nailing that spot over and over with ruthless precision once he found it. “Do you need more?” His free hand was currently supporting him, but he'd make it work, if Christian needed him to.
Christian shook his head. “No,” he gasped. “I can. I please. Let me. I need to. Please, Tris. Please.” He kept trying to meet Tris’ thrusts but the pounding made it easier to just take it.
Tris pressed Christian’s hands harder into the pillow, leaning over him more for better leverage. His entire focus was on bringing Chris off, though like this he didn’t have to concentrate all that much on himself, muttering phrases about how tight he was, how good, throwing in Chris’ name at every juncture. He didn’t need to concentrate on himself, not when it was like this.
Chris’ orgasm snuck up on him. He was holding off, trying to wait, but then it was too much and he was crashing over the edge. His body went tight as he cried out, something close to Tris’ name but so full of bliss that it was almost intelligible.
Tris wasn’t far behind, coming with a cry that he cut off as he kissed Chris, half collapsing down on him with a shudder.
Christian wrapped his arms around Tris and held on as tight as he could. He kissed Tris back, even if it was a little sloppy. He blushed when he pulled back, shaking his head. “Sorry…”
Tris was all smiles and warm, fuzzy feelings as he came down, slowly pulling out and snuggling up to Chris. “Mmm, what?” he asked, nuzzling into Christian’s neck.
Christian tilted his head into Tris’. “I didn’t wait,” he murmured, the words half buried in Tris hair. He was sore, but in the best kind of way and there was nothing better than being curled against his boyfriend.
“You weren’t meant to,” Tris hummed lazily, stretching his lanky form out down Christian’s side, one leg over his thighs, an arm round his waist, like Chris was some kind of teddybear.
“No?” Christian said with a breath that almost sounded like relief. He liked being wrapped up in Tris like that, like being close mattered as much to Tris as it did to Christian.
“Nope,” Tris said, kissing gently at Christian’s collarbone. “Weren’t playing. Just about you and me. Don’t need permission when we’re not playing. Don’t wanna have to give it when we’re not playing.”
Christian was quiet for a moment, then he nodded and ran his hand through Tris’ hair. “Okay.” Because there was a difference now. It had started by blending the game into regular sex, to introduce it, and now there was a difference. “I love you,” he added softly.
“You too,” Tris murmured into his skin, nuzzling the points he’d been kissing. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek against Christian’s shoulder for a moment, feeling safe and content and loved.