Who: Sage and Marsh Where: Marsh’s house When: Sunday, July 1, late morning Status: Complete Warning: NSFW
It was the kind of day that made Sage want to laze in bed all day and being in Marsh’s bed only encouraged it further. The rain continued to fall outside, a steady tempo broken up with bits of thunder that didn’t seem to have any interest in letting up any time soon. It was his stomach that eventually forced Sage out of bed, the promise of coffee and subsistence drawing him down the stairs. He wandered in in his underwear and glasses, his hair fluffy and sticking just about every direction. He’d made an attempt at running his fingers through it, but it wasn’t like Marsh hadn’t already seen it. Unlike his glasses. But he wasn’t awake enough to mess with his contacts, so those would just have to wait. Part of him thought he should get dressed, at least pull on some pants, but more of him didn’t want to. Marsh had invited him to stay over and he wanted to take full advantage of that. It was nice to be wanted, and even nicer to seek companionship in the quiet space between official dates.
“Morning,” he muttered, self consciously running his fingers through his hair. He should have pulled his shirt on, but he’d been enjoying the sight of the little marks Marsh left the night before. “Coffee?” He couldn’t start the day without it. The key was stopping after one cup, not going back for two or three.
Marsh had not seen him with glasses on and he gave him a somewhat delighted grin at the sight because Sage looked cute as hell wearing them. "Morning," he said and put down his phone and got up to play a good host. "Sit down, I'll get you some." He snuck a kiss on Sage's lips before urging him to sit down. "I didn't wanna wake you," he added warmly and Sage had looked too content in his bed, even if Marsh felt too restless to stay. "Did you sleep well?" He'd seemed content in his sleep when Marsh woke up but he was well aware that Sage was prone to nightmares. Understandably so, with his past.
Sage smiled and kissed Marsh back, then leaned against the counter, rather than take a seat. He knew Marsh was his host, but it felt weird to sit and be waited on. “You could have woken me. I hope you haven’t been up too long,” he said. “Sleep was good. Better than usual.” It hadn’t been completely nightmare free, but it had been one of the milder ones and he’d been able to get back to sleep quicker than usual with Marsh there beside him. He knew they’d probably never leave entirely, but it should get better over time. “Are you a morning person?” It was hard for him to tell when he was the second one up, but it wouldn’t surprise him if Marsh was one of those people up at the crack of dawn with a smile on his face.
"That depends on where I am," Marsh replied jovially. "But in general, yeah. I like mornings. Everything feels so new and crisp. Full of promise. And no way was I waking you. I've only been up for about thirty minutes or so." He suspected Sage was somewhat of a night owl, even with his fear of the dark, and he could understand that. Night had its appeal too, the quiet of it, that feeling of solitude when most people were sleeping. "I'm pretty flexible about when I sleep, just depends on the occasion and my job. You want some toast with your coffee? I can cook up some eggs."
Sage was indeed a night owl, had always been and still was, despite his fear of the dark. It always felt like he had more energy once the sun set, as if that was the trigger for him to finally get things done. He’d always hoped that might change as he got older, aware that most people operated on a more normal schedule, but so far no luck. “Toast would be great. I’ll have eggs if you’re having some, otherwise don’t worry about it,” he said with a smile that was still somewhat sleepy. “Most of my jobs have allowed me to sleep in. Music lessons are usually after school for kids, or midday in the summer. And if I go back to Dragonfly, that’ll be nights.”
"Someone's gotta take the night watch," Marsh replied with a grin and maybe that meant they weren't terribly compatible but he was going along for the ride while it lasted. "How do you like your eggs?" he asked as he started puttering around because he did feel like eggs and it was more motivating to also make them for someone else. "Should I just improvise or are you picky?" he added as he grabbed a pan, glad he'd gotten some of his house in order in the last week so he didn't have to search for everything all the time. He was still regularly opening the wrong cabinets and he probably would be for a while, but that was more tolerable than rummaging through a dozen boxes.
Sage knew that their differing schedules could make dating difficult, but one of the few things he was optimistic about was people’s ability to make things work when they really wanted to. “I’d wake up for you,” he said with a little smile. “We might just have more breakfast dates than dinner dates. And it’s only part time. Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, most likely.” He hadn’t committed to it yet, so there was no set schedule, but Nate had said he could have the job if he wanted it. He just needed to let him know. Soon. “So long as they’re not burnt, I’ll eat ‘em,” he grinned. “I’m not picky, but I never learned to cook. Jacob’s gonna try and teach me, so we’ll see how that goes. Do you like to cook?” The fact that Marsh could offer various ways to cook eggs said he could do more than Sage. He was pretty sure he could boil them without fucking it up, but even that was a gamble without a recipe.
"Yup," Marsh replied and he was kind of glad to hear Sage wasn't a picky eater, that meant he could cook for him without having to worry about what ingredients he was using and how. He was slightly picky himself, but always willing to try things at least once. "I don't always feel like it when I'm alone, but I got into the habit of cooking a lot at once and then freezing it for later. That helped. He made sure the coffee was ready first, knowing full well that getting some caffeine could be a priority, then quickly cooked up some fried eggs to go on toast with cheese. His timing was kind of impeccable by now and he brought the food to the table on plates, setting one down in front of Sage. "You might still become a morning person," he said as he sat down. "You're only twenty-three, staying up all night is a young man's game, you know."
“Maybe,” Sage agreed. “With the right motivation, or a different schedule.” He paused to take a sip of coffee, needing that caffeine injection to get him moving. He still felt a bit sluggish, but talking to Marsh helped wake him up a bit. He was pretty sure he’d still be a zombie if left alone. The mention of his age gave him pause and he tried to work out what Marsh might think of it, if anything. His brain was too fuzzy to work it out and with food on the table, that took precedent. “This looks amazing,” he said, digging right in. After a moment of savoring his first bite and washing it down with coffee, he finally found his words. “Does it bother you? How much younger I am?” He had to seem immature, if only because Sage knew he was. Not always, but on occasion.
Marsh had to laugh, arching his brows almost comically. "Hey, I'm not that old," he protested and his comment had been mostly in jest. "Ask me again when I'm actually thirty." He did feel old though, sometimes at least. Someone had told him he would feel old until he actually was old and then he'd feel too young to actually be that old. He had no idea if that was true or not, but he did feel old and like he was running out of time even if technically he was right on schedule with his education and career. "You'll be twenty-four this year, right? So that's only five years between us."
Thirty sounded old to Sage, but Marsh didn’t feel that old and, besides, he wasn’t quite there yet. Marsh was just so put together, a quality that Sage used to think came with age. Yet with every year that passed, Sage thought he might finally get his life together, but then he’d be another year older and nothing had really changed. He was beginning to realize that he was never going to abandon his more juvenile interests and adult—it was just who he was. “Yeah, in August,” he nodded. “Five years isn’t that much. It seems like a lot when you’re younger, but not so much now.”
"It would definitely bother me if I was the one who was twenty-three," Marsh admitted. "Or twenty, yikes. Age difference gets a little milder the higher up you go, I guess." He supposed he really looked like he had his shit together to someone like Sage and maybe he did but he'd had so much help with a lot of it. Inheritance helped with buying a house and a good - and rich - family helped him through college and vet school. He really was just skating by on privilege so he didn't feel particularly grown-up and wise. "Thankfully you're well over the legal age for me to ravage you."
“It doesn’t bother me,” Sage shrugged. “If I was twenty, yeah, it’d seem like a jump, but… I dunno. It’s kinda hot.” He wouldn’t have understood why he thought so a few months ago, but now he got the sense that it played into the roles he enjoyed. Marsh being older made him a bit more of an authority figure, dominant in stature, even if he didn’t enforce it. At the mention of being ravaged, Sage grinned. “You’re lucky I’m legal. I would have enjoyed tempting you.” He didn’t think Marsh was the kind of guy to give into that kind of temptation, but it would have been fun to try and find out. “Feel free to ravage me whenever you want,” he snickered, sipping on his coffee.
"Thank you," Marsh said with obvious amusement as he cocked a brow at him. "I'm glad I have your permission, you look like an open invitation walking around my house half naked like that." Nevermind all the sex they'd already been having lately, he'd been pretty blatantly taking Sage up on that invitation. "So, possibly a stupid question but do you feel less naked with those tattoos?" He reached over to run his finger over one of them and why was it that every time he looked at them he felt tempted to get one of his own? "They don't do much for your modesty, granted, but yeah... Stupid question."
Sage grinned, as it was definitely an open invitation. He’d woken with the hopes of another round, but in finding himself alone in the bed, he had to at least tempt Marsh. It was only when he’d arrived at the kitchen and noted their differing states of dress that he’d become self conscious about his lack of clothing. “Not a stupid question. I know people that wear them like armor. But for me, I feel just as naked. There’s no actual barrier there. And when you touch me, it’s a reminder of that.” Sage was usually much more modest, sometimes uncomfortable in his own skin. He leaned towards baggy clothing as a result, hiding himself. But Marsh had already seen more than most, both in a physical and emotional sense. Sage felt safe with him, comfortable enough to forgo a shirt in the name of temptation. As goosebumps rose on his skin under Marsh’s touch, he wondered who was doing the tempting.
"I might get one," Marsh murmured, only pulling back because he was still eating breakfast. "If I ever thought of something I really want. But now I'm picturing someone tattooing a whole outfit on. I wonder if that's what drives people to get whole sleeves and leg-tattoos and the whole shebang, covering up something." He'd never liked that much, having a few tasteful tattoos here and there was one thing but barely seeing a person's body for the ink felt somehow a little sad to him. He loved the expanse of skin, the natural look of a naked body. Not to mention some tattoos were plain ugly. Thankfully Sage's were beautiful and fit him well. They always seemed to catch Marsh's eye and he found himself staring as he thought about tattoos.
“I know for some people it’s kind of an addiction, but I’d never take it that far. I don’t like it visually. Personally,” Sage said, trying not to sound too judgmental. He enjoyed the act of getting a tattoo, and enjoyed the symbolism of having something meaningful to him inked into his skin, but he felt like there was a limit. He had no desire to ink his stomach or his legs or his neck. There had to be a balance. He liked that he could cover the majority of them up if he wanted to, with the exception of the ones on his fingers, which were tiny. “Any idea what you might get? Or where you’d get it?” Marsh seemed like a back or bicep kind of guy, but maybe he’d surprise him. Maybe he wanted some kind of a tramp stamp. Just the thought made him smile. “You ever decide to get one, I’d go with you.”
"Aww yeah, you should come with me and hold my hand," Marsh half-joked but he'd heard varying stories of whether it hurt or not. He did like pain but he liked it on other people, not himself so that was probably super hypocritical of him or something. "But yeah, I don't know. My arm, I guess? Depends on what I'd get. I'd have to be able to hide it easily. Maybe my side?" Or his butt, he thought with some amusement. Not a lot of people would see it there, he just couldn't imagine what kind of picture he'd want there. "Was it hard to decide what to get? Or did you always have a clear idea of what you wanted?"
“I would totally hold your hand, but it’s not that bad,” Sage snickered. “I kinda like it.” But then maybe he wasn’t normal in that regard. There were some people who totally couldn’t handle it. Maybe Marsh would be one of those people and then he’d feel awful for not preparing him enough. “Side is probably easiest to hide, no matter what you wear. If you’re worried about people seeing it in a professional setting, then arm might not be the best. Unless you always wear long sleeves,” he said. “I always knew I wanted the music tattoo, but it was too big to start with. I wanted it, but was kind of intimidated by it, you know? So I got the arrow instead. I liked the symbolism behind it, even if it’s the most generic of all of ‘em. I kind of used it as a stepping stone. And I got the X and the O when I was high, so I’m not sure there was a lot of clear decision making going on at the time.”
"I never wear long sleeves," Marsh tittered. "It's impractical and too damn hot." He didn't think most people cared if their vet had a tattoo but there were still some weird - mostly older - people who'd scoff at it. Maybe he could win them over anyway but why put himself at a disadvantage if he didn't have to? "Think I'll decide what I want before I decide where to put it, that makes more sense. You're definitely coming with me if I do it though, in case I need a distraction." He finished up his toast and took a sip of his coffee, eyes gleaming a little as he looked at Sage. "I've heard some people like getting tattoos," he murmured. "Like, it feels good to them."
“Makes sense,” Sage said. He’d always decided on where after what. The what was the hard part. He was happy to go along and distract Marsh whenever he decided what he wanted. A little smile tugged at his lips, his eyes meeting Marsh’s as his heart began to beat faster. “I’m kinda like that,” he admitted somewhat shyly. “I mean, like, it does hurt. But I like it, so I guess it feels good? I don’t know how to describe it.” He could see how he could get addicted to it, but he didn’t like the look aesthetically. There were other ways to get that rush that were less permanent. He just hadn’t experimented with them as much as he wanted.
"There's some electrical gimmick that gives a similar sensation," Marsh murmured. "I've only read about it and obviously don't know what it feels like but... You're tempting me to get one now." He liked the videos he'd watched and he could easily imagine those temporary marks on Sage's pale skin. There was something very satisfying about the idea of putting his initials on him in a brand that would last a few days and ache a little. He just didn't know if Sage was into all that. Those things were crazy expensive but he could afford that. It'd just be a pity if this thing didn't work out between them but maybe he could re-sell it if it came to that.
Sage’s brows rose, having never heard of such a thing, but the prospect was intriguing. The rush of the pain without the tattoo? He’d try it. But it also seemed like a lot of effort for something he could get in much simpler ways. “If you had one, would you use it on me?” he asked, head tilting slightly to the side, a curious light in his eyes. “Would you… would you like that as much as I might?” He’d never gotten hard while getting tattooed, but he thought he would if Marsh was the one doing it. Just thinking about it now made him stir, suddenly aware of how very little he was wearing. At least he had the table to hide him from the waist down. He took a sip of coffee, as if that would calm his racing heart. This was not the sort of conversation he’d expected over breakfast, though it was not unwelcome.
Marsh couldn't help but chuckle, the question was so sincere and so hesitant. "Yeah, I'd like that," he murmured with a grin that he half hid behind his cup of coffee for a second. "It leaves marks for a few days, not scars exactly but they look like scars. I can't remember the name but I'll find it and text it to you if you wanna look it up." It wasn't exactly something he wanted to surprise Sage with, even if the idea was hot in his mind. He still didn't know his limits and little quirks though if he enjoyed getting tattoos, Marsh suspected he might like this. "You're not phobic of electricity or anything like that, are you? 'Cause that's basically what it is. Some kind of electro-wand."
Fuck, Sage liked the idea of Marsh etching little scars on his body more than he wanted to admit, even to himself. It made him feel like there was something wrong with him, and he had to mentally berate himself for thinking so. It was just a kink, one not as common as some others. “I’ll have to look it up. I don’t mind the marks.” The twist of his lips spoke a clearer truth, that it was much more than that. Why was it so hard to speak frankly on this subject? Marsh made him feel about sixteen years old at times, completely inexperienced in what he really wanted. “Sounds intimidating…and intriguing,” he said with a little laugh. “No, no phobias of electricity. So long as it’s not extreme.”
"Then this could be fun," Marsh said with a grin and hell, he'd order one today just for the fuck of it because then it'd get here sooner and he could try it whenever he was ready. He was pretty sure he'd try it on himself first, just to make sure it was all in a working order but it wouldn't exactly be reliable information since he wasn't the one who liked pain. He'd always wondered how that affected the perception of pain. Something that might hurt him obviously felt very different to someone else. He knew of people who'd kept running with a twisted ankle while others could barely move after a similar or lesser injury. Bodies were so strange and varied. Would the pleasant kind of pain produce the same kind of flavor as the non-pleasant kind? He had so many questions and now he actually might get some answers. "I don't think it's extreme? But then I don't really know what your definition of extreme is."
Sage knew from that grin alone that he was done for, that all Marsh had to do was ask and he’d try anything once. A smile shouldn’t have that much power over him, but fuck if it didn’t make his insides melt and his cock stir and he was supposed to be eating breakfast, dammit! This was not the time! Sage bit his lip, nodding as he grinned back, then considered Marsh’s follow-up question seriously. “So, as someone who hasn’t experimented with this near as much as I’d like, I feel like there’s this invisible line that separates good pain and bad pain. You can walk it sometimes, but once you cross it the enjoyment factor shoots way down,” he said, his fingers drumming lightly on the table, his nerves acting up. “I like the bruises. They stay longer because I poke at them. I like the bites, but if you broke the skin, that might be too much. I… I think about you choking me—“ His eyes dropped, his discomfort getting the better of him. “—sometimes with your hands, sometimes… I don’t expect you to be into that. I know some people would say I’m sick.” His eyes ticked back up to Marsh’s. “I know a guy who shoots lightning from his hands. He terrifies me. That’s my extreme when it comes to electricity. A device that mimics a tattoo gun sounds like fun.”
"That all sounds good," Marsh told him. "I'm not into cutting or making you bleed. I sure as shit don't want to electrocute you." He wasn't sure about choking but he knew there were things that were similar that mimicked the sensation and could make a guy feel dizzy without the actual risk. He'd keep that in mind the next time he felt like playing a little rough. "You can always ask me to stop," he added. "I won't do anything you don't want to do." It was probably crazy to spend a lot of money on a device they might only ever use once and Sage might end up hating but Marsh liked to think of it as paying for an experience, not necessarily the tool itself. Like buying a ticket to visit somewhere for just a weekend. Was it a waste of money because the experience was short? No, then this wouldn't be either.
Something in Sage unfurled at Marsh’s casual response, the anxiety still present, but not so worried about outright rejection. If Marsh had been outright opposed to any of it, he would have said so. Instead, he’d said that sounded good. It was a good sign, and it made Sage bold enough to keep going. “I like to be dominated,” he said, the words coming out in a rush. He paused, pushing his tongue against his incisor in thought. “We talk a lot about what I like and want. What about you?” That he hadn’t asked him before was a huge oversight on his part, though in his defense he’d never had these sorts of conversations before. With them came a level of intimacy that surprised him. He used to assume that if he was getting off, it was good enough. Now there was the possibility of more.
Marsh licked his fingers and pushed his plate away, then gave Sage a little grin before hiding it behind his cup of coffee. He considered the question as he finished his coffee, liking the way Sage watched him, waiting for an answer. "I think I like improvising more than planning," he murmured as he set the cup down and shifted his chair a little closer to Sage, reaching over to grab him by the jaw in a tight grip, testing for a moment the effects that might have on him. "I think I'd very much like dominating you, tell you what to do, watch you obey me, make you obey me. But I like sweet too, sometimes." He tilted Sage's head back a bit, watching him with an almost predatorial look. "Do you like sweet sometimes too?"
Marsh had to know what he was doing to him, making him wait while he finished his coffee. Sage had never been patient, and it was worse when he felt vulnerable, so by the time Marsh answered him he felt wound tight, just about sprung. Improvising was fine with him. Improvising was good, as he’d never been a planner, but it took Marsh’s hand on his jaw for him to realize that he would be the one most likely caught off guard. And it was amazing what that did to him, that touch. His pulse quickened further and he leaned into Marsh’s hold, unable to look away as his cock swelled between his legs, no longer just half mast, but fully aroused. It was embarrassing, really, and evidence of how starved for attention he’d become. It took a second for the question to register and he would have normally laughed at his own failure to mention such a thing, except laughing felt unnatural in the moment. “Yes,” he said breathlessly. “I assumed. I should have said.”
"Good," Marsh tittered, not terribly bothered by the fact Sage hadn't mentioned it already nor did he feel like making a big display of pretending to be. He let go of Sage's jaw only to grab his chair and pull him closer with a loud scraping noise that made him grin even more. "Go upstairs and take these off," he said, glancing down at Sage's tented boxers. "But first, kiss me." He didn't wait for Sage to do as he was told, already tugging him into a kiss, the taste of coffee mixing with that taste of Sage's arousal in a peculiar but not unpleasant way. He loved letting their tongues play together, whether it was soft and slow like now or like a little wrestling match. Sage was a good kisser and it was just a part of the reason why Marsh had a hard time letting this whole thing go.
Sage gasped as Marsh pulled him closer, his hands gripping the seat of the chair as it scraped across the floor. The sound was jarring, yet amplified his arousal in a way he didn’t completely understand. Maybe it was the brutality of it, or the abruptness. He didn’t have time to examine it before Marsh glanced down at his arousal and a flush spread up his neck. He’d been with plenty of people over the years, enough to feel experienced as vanilla sex at least, but none of them had ever looked at him the way Marsh did. Then, before he had a chance to follow Marsh’s command, he was being pulled into a kiss that was soft and sweet, a reminder of the affection he was beginning to feel for this man who could so easily wind him up. It took so little that it was slightly unnerving.
Marsh took a moment to enjoy the kiss but he hadn't forgotten his command or the fact he wanted Sage to obey it. He pulled back and gave Sage a little grin, his chest tight with possessive feelings and longings. "Go," he whispered simply and pushed his own chair back enough to give Sage space to stand up and go upstairs. Just to tease him he pulled his t-shirt off to match him in the lack of clothing, making a show of bundling the fabric up tight like a piece of rope against his crotch. He was really enjoying how reactive Sage was to every little thing he did, and he didn't think anyone had ever made him feel this sexy in this particular way before. It was a permission to be a little dangerous, a little scary, and he was reveling in it.
There was a second where Sage was tempted to chase Marsh’s lips for another taste, but then he pulled back and the urge to obey was too strong. It was almost unsettling how much he wanted to please Marsh in that moment, but Sage pushed his hesitations aside and rose to his feet, his eyes sweeping over Marsh as he hurried up to his room. He didn’t think he’d ever sit shirtless at the kitchen table again without thinking of that moment and the way Marsh looked at him. His anticipation rose with every step so that he was almost buzzing with energy by the time he reached the top. Sage stripped off his boxer briefs, dropping them on the floor before climbing on the bed, unsure of what to do next. This was as far as Marsh’s request had gotten him. In fact, he hadn’t even told him to get on the bed. Sage just assumed that’s where they were going, based on the destination.
Marsh felt a bit like one of those dumb villains in old horror movies as he slow-walked up the stairs after hearing Sage almost run up there but dumb or not, it was still a power trip and he tossed his t-shirt aside as he entered the bedroom, grinning again at the sight of Sage on the bed. Sure, he hadn't given him instructions and he probably would have been happy to find him in any possible way up there, as long as he was naked. "You look so damn good," he murmured, pulling his boxers off and letting them drop before approaching the bed. "I wanna tie you to the bed and never let you leave." Unrealistic, but the thought was still hot in that dumb sexual fantasy way. He joined Sage on the bed, crawling up closer to him and kneeling in front of him, stroking his cock lightly and reaching out to cup Sage's face. "You want this?" he murmured with a little grin and the way Sage's cock was straining too he already knew what the answer was.
Sage wasn’t sure he would ever get used to someone complimenting him on his looks, especially someone like Marsh. The man could be a model; he was a perfect specimen, radiating masculinity from head to toe, truly one of the most attractive men Sage had ever met in person. And he wanted him. Sage wouldn’t have believed it if the evidence weren’t right in front of him, crawling closer, presenting fantasies that Sage would have easily given in to, no matter how unrealistic. He groaned softly at the thought and leaned into Marsh’s touch, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Yes,” he whispered, sure of the answer even without knowing all that it entailed. Every time they’d been together had been amazing, proof that all sex he’d had prior to Marsh had been subpar. There was not a doubt in his mind that this would be just as good, or even better now that he’d told Marsh what he liked. The risk had been worth it.
Marsh wished he already had that toy he wanted to try on Sage, he could imagine it so vividly, the red streaks blooming on his skin, the way he might sound if he liked it. He didn't need a little device to drag those sounds out of Sage so he could wait and just use what he had naturally until then. He felt like he could do whatever he wanted to him right now - within reason - and it felt heavy in a wonderful way. He could boss him around, or he could simply take and right now he wanted to take so he moved his hand to the back of Sage's neck to give it a hard squeeze before wrestling him down onto the mattress, face down. He knew he was stronger than Sage, though he knew looks could be deceiving, and it felt good to manhandle someone like that. He knew he wouldn't need much warmup today, not after the night they'd already had, which was good because Marsh didn't feel much like being gentle and patient. "You're mine, you know that?" he grunted as he gripped Sage's wrists and wrangled his arms behind his back.
Sage’s breath hitched as Marsh gave the back of his neck a squeeze, the only warning he got before being forced face down onto the bed. He’d never been truly manhandled, but was no longer shocked to find himself enjoying it. The man was so fucking strong. Even if he fought it, he was sure his attempts would be useless, though he didn’t want to. Being completely at Marsh’s mercy was a rush like no other. “Yes,” he groaned, in response, the words ringing truer now than they might have an hour ago. This was an addiction and now that he’d had a taste, even just a little one, Sage doubted he could ever give it up. “I’m yours,” he whined as his arousal throbbed against the mattress, trapped beneath him, and he shifted instinctually, searching for friction, too impatient for his own good.
It was probably a good thing Marsh had him pressed down so he couldn't see the grin on his face because he was trying to be scary, damn it, but he couldn't help the way Sage made him feel. Sure, he still felt scary, but he also felt stupidly happy as he held him down with one hand and used the other to smack his ass hard. "Stop squirming," he told him in a low growl, even if he loved the way he was writhing around, both the way it looked and the way it felt. He might not have his electric wand yet but the smack was turning Sage's pale skin red and he couldn't resist giving him another smack on the other cheek - to match. The skin that was naturally cooler there was a little warmer to the touch when he brought his hand down there a third time, this time to caress Sage's ass and probe teasing fingers between his cheek. "You're not getting any preparation so you better be ready for me," he murmured as he straddled the back of Sage's thighs, still holding his wrists in a firm grip.
“Fuck,” Sage gasped as Marsh smacked his ass, torn between doing what he was told and squirming some more just to see if he’d do it again. He’d had a theory that he would like it, but feeling it in practice was something else entirely. Every ounce of pain was paired with pleasure, the coupling of the two increasing the intensity like nothing he’d ever felt before. He moaned aloud when Marsh’s hand came down on his other cheek, and pressed back into his touch even as his skin tingled beneath it. He whined wantonly as Marsh squeezed his ass cheeks, no longer trying to hide how much he enjoyed it. He knew some spanked in punishment, but it had the opposite effect on him, winding him up as Marsh teased his entrance. “I need you,” he gasped, trying to breath through any nervousness those words brought on. He knew he could take it, suspected that he’d love it, so long as he relaxed and trusted Marsh to take care of him.
Those reactions were telling and Marsh indulged them both by bringing his hand down in one more hard smack before he reached for the lube. He'd left it on the nighstand so it was easy to find and he was glad he'd kept it there because he was enjoying this power dynamic and letting Sage go too soon would feel wrong. Since Sage seemed to be liking the stings of pain, he pushed his arms upwards for a bit more of a stretch. He was going to learn Sage's limits and find out just how far he could take things but for now being cautious was just dandy and he didn't push too far, just until he could feel him tense again. "Say please," he murmured but he could already taste just how much Sage wanted this, the flavor of his arousal thick and making his mouth water. It almost had him regretting not sucking Sage off first but he could occupy his mouth in different ways once he was inside of him, there was all this pale skin for him to bite.
That last smack surprised Sage enough that he cried out and he would have rutted against the bed if Marsh weren’t sitting on his legs, holding him down. He had no leverage to do anything but take what he was given and it was both glorious and maddening at the same time. He became an instrument for Marsh to play, whimpering when Marsh pushed his arms higher, prepared to sing if it became too much. He could feel it burn, but Marsh never crossed the line, taking him just far enough that he’d likely be sore later. “Please,” he whimpered, his voice shaking. He could have probably stopped there, but he kept going, just delirious enough to loosen his tongue. “Please fuck my ass. Fill me up. Make me yours.” He already was; that much had been established, but wanted to feel the evidence of it all over his body. He wanted Marsh’s cum dripping down his legs, to feel ravaged and wanted like he’d never felt before. “Please.”
The strain in Sage's voice couldn't be faked and it seemed to go straight to Marsh's cock. He had no idea what it was about this boy that seemed to wake up something feral inside of him, but it was a feeling he was more than happy to ride out. "Good boy," he grunted and spilled some lube on Sage's ass, enjoying the visual of it glistening on his reddened cheeks before he rubbed his cock on it. "You're already mine," he reminded him as he nudged the head of his cock against his opening, pushing in slow. It wasn't as much for caution as it was to let Sage feel the stretch and it was fun to imagine that this was their first time, that he could actually take him without any preparation and just force his way inside. It might not be the first, but Sage was still hot and tight around him, making his balls throb with need and pleasure.
The thrill of praise was something Sage still wasn’t used to, how much he loved it, sometimes even needed it. It went beyond the bedroom, filling some need deep inside him, proof that he could be good when he wanted to be, and recognized for it accordingly. The key was in his own needs at the time, something difficult to determine, but so far all he’d wanted was to please. “Yes,” he hissed as Marshed pushed his cock into his ass, all other thoughts falling by the wayside. He’d wanted to be taken like this that night in his clinic, when it had just been a fantasy in his head. He’d thought about it multiple times after, any time there was a flat surface around, he wondered what would happen if Marsh just laid him out and took him. To actually feel it now, to strain against hold and push back against his cock, was a rush that would be forever burned in his brain, fuel for every fantasy to come. The stretch burned in the sweetest way possible, making him want to squirm, press for more until Marsh was buried deep inside.
It was a fantasy they both shared that could have never come true that night without dire consequences but that just made it all the more fun to act it out now. Marsh made sure Sage was ready before he thrust in the rest of the way, then pulled Sage's arms down to the bed to let him relax them without loosening his hold. He moved them until he was lying down enough to cover Sage's body, able to bite into his shoulder the way he felt like he was itching to do, pressing Sage's wrists in against the mattress. "You're so good at taking that cock," he murmured between nibbles, then sank his teeth into the sensitive spot between Sage's shoulder and neck, pressing in deep and holding still there for a few seconds to really let him feel it.
Sage groaned as Marsh pushed in, fully sheathing himself before changing up his hold. He appreciated the shift in how it allowed Marsh to press closer, to have his body still fully restrained, but still get to feel Marsh’s skin upon his. Everything came second to the feeling of fullness, from the hold around his wrists to the bite on his shoulder, each one enhancing the feeling. He was going to be sore later, would feel Marsh’s claim on him for hours. It was incredible how much he enjoyed that, craved more of it, along with Marsh’s cock. “So good,” he muttered, not sure if he was returning the praise or speaking in agreement. Words were failing him, so he rocked back, using what little leverage he had to silently beg for more.
It didn't really matter what he meant or what it sounded like, the words were lost to the sensations as Marsh started moving in languid strokes, pressing in deep and pulling out far to really enjoy the long strokes. He was happy to taste all that pleasure radiating off Sage, to really know he wasn't exaggerating his need, that those little squirms came from a place of raw desire for more. He was under no illusion that this would last long, they were both experiencing something they'd wanted for a while and they had all day to lounge around and play around some more - as far as he knew, at least. So he didn't hold back, gradually working up a faster pace and eventually letting go of one of Sage's hands so he could reach up and grip his hair tightly. "You want me to stroke you, don't you?" he murmured, though he wondered if he could make the boy come just like this.
If they’d just been having a layabout and had rolled into casual sex, Sage would’ve needed more to get him there, but this was something else. This was literally years of half thought fantasies brought into reality with a man that still felt like a dream. It was the first time everything felt right without his brain telling him it was wrong. He couldn’t have lasted if he wanted to, though he was certain he needed Marsh to stroke him to come. The thought that he could possibly come without it had never even occurred to him. “Yes,” he whined, head tipping back as Marsh took hold of his hair. He was completely at Marsh’s mercy from that position, even with one of his hands free. It wouldn’t take much for Marsh to make him come. Desperate as he was, it felt like all he had to do was ask. “Please,” he said again, and wondered if Marsh liked hearing him beg as much as he liked being forced into it.
Marsh reveled in it and that word didn't fail to make something dark yet sweet bloom inside of him, making him kind of want to hear Sage plead with him to stop. He already sounded so wrecked that it wasn't a stretch to imagine he was unwilling and while Marsh didn't really want this to be nonconsensual, the fantasy was still a turn-on. He couldn't do much stroking in this position but he still let go of Sage's hand and reached beneath him to take hold of his cock, giving it a little squeeze as he kept fucking him and biting him, riding high on the sounds Sage was making. He didn't know if he could make him come with just this but he was eager to find out and more than ready to ramp it up if he couldn't.
As awkward as the position was, it fed into the fantasy, overwhelming Sage’s senses. Marsh was everywhere—in him, on him, biting him, and stroking him. No matter how he moved, he could feel him and the total control he seemed to have over Sage’s body. His breath started to hitch and his pleas became a chant as Marsh fucked him harder, drawing him higher. He was like a rubber band pulled taunt, stretched further and further until he finally snapped. Marsh’s cock was buried inside him when he came, Marsh’s teeth locked onto his shoulder. Sage cried out as his body spasmed, his eyes falling shut, dizzy from the force of it. He’d meant to hold on, to let Marsh control when he came, but there was no stopping it this time. It was all too much in the best way possible.
He didn't have permission but Marsh hadn't told him he needed one so that was okay; it was exactly what he'd wanted and it felt like an accomplishment in some weird, powerful way to make Sage come like that. He went still while Sage shuddered and tightened beneath him, letting him do the moving while his orgasm washed over him and enjoying the pulsing tightness. He could feel the strength in his body there, the way his muscles danced and jolted, and it just made Marsh feel more powerful if anything. He didn't move again until Sage's body started relaxing but by then he was already so close himself that it didn't really become any long term post-orgasm torture to fuck him. He was too turned on, too amped up on all those fantasies and the way Sage was fulfilling them so his climax came easily and he gripped Sage's hips tightly as he let go, rearing up with a throaty moan as he spilled inside of him.
Sage had barely come down from his own orgasm when Marsh began to move, sending sparks of almost painful pleasure through his body. He gripped the sheets and held on tight, letting the bed muffle his cries as Marsh rode him to his peak. Marsh could have easily worked him into a frenzy like that had he lasted longer, and even then his climax came as a relief. He gasped as Marsh spilled inside of him, his own body shuddering and tightening around him with each thrust. Sage was only able to come down as Marsh did, finally catching his breath as he was able to relax. “Fuck,” he groaned softly as every bite and potential bruise began to stand out to him, a memory pressed upon his skin. He felt amazing, thoroughly ruined in the very best way. Claimed. He wasn’t sure if Marsh meant it outside the moment, but it was true nonetheless.
Marsh gave himself time to enjoy that afterglow, the slight tremors still going through his body and the way his cock was still throbbing, Sage so hot and tight around him it wasn't exactly tempting to pull out. He grinned faintly as Sage cursed, dipping down again to kiss his shoulder before he eventually pulled back and moved to flop down next to him. "Fuck," he groaned in agreement, then let out a little laugh of contentment and wonder, glancing over at Sage and moving his hand to let it flop down on his back. "You okay?" he tittered even if he knew Sage was feeling as fantastic as he was. That taste thing could come in handy just as much as it could be annoying and everything tasted rich and heady at the moment. It still felt only right to check in.
Sage groaned softly as Marsh pulled out, then stretched his arms out in front of him before folding them under his head. It was the most he was willing to move at the moment and he was glad Marsh seemed to be of the same mind. “Yeah,” he smiled softly, teeth tugging at his bottom lip. “That was… You are… amazing.” With words like that, no one would ever believe he was a lyricist, but he’d never been able to spout poetry on the spot. And if he tried to put this moment into words, he’d likely end up getting himself off again. “You liked that as much as I did?” He was pretty sure the answer was yes, but he just wanted to make sure that this wasn’t a fluke, that this wasn’t just his kink, but theirs. Marsh never spelled it out for him, but all the signs were there.
"Yeah," Marsh murmured and he could have gone on and on about just how much he liked it but just that one word was loaded with meaning already. "You're amazing too," he added a moment later, then rolled onto his side with just a slightly exaggerated grunt. "You don't have anywhere to be today, right? I can keep you to myself for a little longer?" The fantasy of kidnapping Sage and chaining him down to the bed was sexy for sure, but not something he could actually do in real life, not without consent, but he really hoped Sage was willing to stay for at least a few more hours. He couldn't imagine where he might want to go on a day like this, it was pouring rain outside and Sage didn't have a job. Marsh was just happy he wasn't working, that he could lounge at home all day and do whatever he wanted. He just preferred not doing it alone today.
Sage got a loaded answer to a loaded question, but it was enough to make him feel all warm and gooey inside, giddy in a way he’d rarely experienced. Relationships were hard, and good sex within them had always felt challenging, yet he’d somehow stumbled upon both with Marsh. That he wanted him around after was telling, making him smile even wider, unable to hide how happy the question made him. “You can have me all day. I’ve got nowhere to be,” he said. He’d stay as long as Marsh wanted him there, another night even, though he knew Marsh had work the next day. It made him glad they had a day like this, with no obligations, something that he knew might be more rare in the future. “I got a job offer. From Dragonfly,” he said after a minute, watching for Marsh’s reaction. “Part time. If I take it, I can move out of my parent’s house.”
"That sounds awesome," Marsh said with a smile and it did, even if for a brief moment he thought he might miss Sage's company at night. Part time, he said, and Marsh was trying to see this thing between them as casual anyway. "I'll have to stop by and have a drink," he added cheekily. "See if I can make the bartender blush." He snuggled in closer to Sage, rubbing his nose in his hair. "We should probably shower, I've got lube all over my hands and dick." He tittered at that and leaned back to squint at Sage. "You wanna shower together?" He had a nice shower installed, one of those luxuries he'd really missed after leaving Point Pleasant for the first time, it was spacious enough for two with a rain water setting that was probably overkill but he was glad he had it if Sage enjoyed showering with him.
Sage knew he didn’t need Marsh’s approval, that it shouldn’t matter either way, but he found he wanted it. It would change when they could see each other, something he wanted to draw out as long as possible. There had to be a balance, a way to keep Marsh interested without overdoing it, but he didn’t know what that was. All he could do was hope he continued to play the right cards. “You know you can make the bartender blush,” he muttered as Marsh cuddled closer. “It’s not even a contest with you. More like, how long it takes before I drag you into the back room.” Which was horribly unprofessional, and Sage would never do, except in his mind, right that very moment. Marsh could probably tempt him into it. Mention of their current states made him scrunch up his nose and glance down at himself, pretty sure his own condition was worse. “I got cum on your bed, and—yeah. Yeah, a shower would be good,” he snickered. He’d just have to keep his hands to himself long enough to get clean.
"Sheets can be washed," Marsh tittered. "And you could say that it's my fault that happened." He'd picked the position after all and not given Sage a whole lot of choice in the matter. He knew Dragonfly was usually too busy for the bartender to sneak off for a quickie but it was fun to imagine doing just that with Sage. Hell it was fun to imagine doing a lot of things with Sage. He pressed another kiss on Sage's lips then sat up, stretching with a content grunt before moving to get off the bed. "C'mon, let's get clean so we can get dirty again later," he said teasingly though for now he was sated and really just wanted to kick back, cuddle and maybe watch a movie. He had no idea how long that would last though and if Sage spent the rest of the day with him, he'd be tempted to need another shower.
“Mmm, totally your fault,” Sage murmured in agreement as March kissed him. Despite liking his sex on the rougher side, he liked those soft, sweet kisses afterwards. It balanced something out in his brain. If he hadn’t been in such desperate need of a shower, he might’ve even wanted to cuddle, but right now the shower was beckoning him. He’d never been in a bathroom where he could comfortably shower with another person, so it proved to be a bit of a treat. “Is that a promise?” he asked cheekily, eyes raking up Marsh’s body as he strolled towards the bathroom. He wasn’t exactly interested now, but if Marsh gave him a bit, he was sure he’d be happy to go again. Not that he was trying to set a personal record for the most sex in a twenty-four hour period, but with Marsh it felt easy, almost insatiable.
"Maybe," Marsh drawled and laughed because he could very well see himself get all riled up later though he wasn't going to make any promises. He grabbed some towels on the way and even if he wasn't about to have more sex right this minute, he was looking forward to groping Sage in the shower - under the guise of washing him of course. Much like Sage he was feeling balanced, like coming back from the darkness in his mind was made easier by having someone who understood and embraced it and he felt positively giddy right now, looking forward to relaxing for a while and having someone to snuggle.