Life on Mars fanfic: To Have And To Hold Down 2/2
Author: Mistress Kat
Fandom: Life on Mars
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ray/Chris, implied Sam/Chris
Warnings: BDSM, spanking, graphic sex
Summary: “You say his name and this stops. Is that clear? You know who I mean, don’t you Chris?”
Author notes: This is the long promised second part for ![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drunkenfop – sorry for the delay hun. Hope you like it anyway. Additionally, I'd like to dedicate this to ginnystar, who has been feeling badly - porn cures most evils, enjoy. Beta by bloodrebel333 – thank you so much, you’re a star!
Want to know more? There is now a DVD Commentary available for this fic!
To Have and to Hold Down 2/2
The ride was spent in silence.
Ray parked the car in front of a nondescript block of flats of which one, Chris assumed, must be where he lived.
They sat in silence for a long time. Chris kept stealing glances at the other man but was too unnerved to say anything. He could still taste Ray in his mouth, his throat sore, scalp throbbing where Ray had gripped his hair. It was… not an entirely unpleasant feeling. And that’s what was freaking him out the most.
He could get out. Another quick look to his right confirmed that Ray was still deep in… whatever it was that had him squeezing the steering wheel with a white-knuckled intensity, eyes fixed on the dark street behind the windscreen. He probably wouldn’t even notice if Chris just opened the door and walked away.
He should do it. It was the best, the smartest, the easiest… the hand that had crept onto the door handle suddenly froze.
He didn’t want to leave.
He could though. Even in the alley, when Ray had pushed him down, he could have fought, he could have run, he could have shouted for help. He hadn’t.
Instead he had gone on his knees and opened his mouth and taken everything Ray had given. He had been shocked and scared and even hurting but at no point had he even tried to resist.
That meant something. He wanted to find out what. To do that he had to stick around.
“So, er…”
Ray turned towards him but didn’t say anything. “We going in or what?” Chris continued, aiming for nonchalance and failing miserably.
Ray was out and on the other side of the car so fast Chris barely had time to blink before he was being pulled to his feet and rammed against the hood. Ray looked wild and dangerous and for a fleeting moment Chris thought they were not going to make it inside, that Ray was going to have him right here on the rain-soaked parking lot. The idea both scared and excited him and he thrashed around, finding no purchase on the wet metal.
But no, Ray unclenched his fists with visible effort and strode towards the building without a backward glance. Chris followed wordlessly, still shaking and so turned on it was difficult to walk straight.
They climbed the stairs in silence, the floor filthy under their feet, air smelling like burnt dinners, old and rotting. Once they made it to the fifth landing, Ray offered the keys to him, waving a hand towards the door on the left. Slowly Chris reached over, fingers closing over cold metal, the serrated edge a solid pressure against his palm. It was a test. A test to see what he would do.
Ray took a step back, giving Chris plenty of room to unlock the door. Or to run away.
Unlike earlier in the alley, or even in the car, Ray was completely still, seemingly in control. His eyes were hooded, face shadowed by the dark. For long silent seconds they stared each other and then Chris turned around and inserted the key into the lock, pushing the door open and stepping inside.
The moment Chris was over the threshold Ray was on him, kicking the door closed and pressing him to the wall.
The impact forced the breath out of him in a hot rush of air and he gasped for more, Ray’s body blanketing him entirely. Ray had two stones on him, easily, and Chris knew that even if he tried he couldn’t dislodge the other man, the weight of him both safe and suffocating.
Just as it would have become too much, Ray eased back, allowing Chris to turn around in the circle of his arms. He couldn’t see anything but he could feel Ray’s breath ghosting over his face, hot and tart with the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke.
“You say his name and this stops. Is that clear? You know who I mean, don’t you Chris?”
Chris nodded frantically. Sam, Sam, Sam… the name pulsating through his mind but not escaping the barrier of his lips.
“Stop it! You’re thinking about him. You’re with me, you only think about me. Is that clear?”
“Y-yes.”
“Yes who?”
“Yes, Ray.” Not Sam.
Ray growled in answer and then Chris was being kissed, deep and ferocious, Ray’s tongue shoving its way in, down, all over Chris’ mouth, taking every last doubt and question with it.
Everything around them was dark, black shapes against a black background and a square of greyness to Chris’ left that must be a window. But Ray didn’t need sight to be able to manoeuvre in his own apartment. His movements were sure and steady as he guided Chris around obstacles, finally pushing him down on something soft and creaky. A sofa, Chris thought, rubbing a hand on scarred leather.
“Stay there. I got to put some lights on, wanna see you.” Chris felt blunt fingers skim the side of his face, trailing down to dip into the hollow of his throat. He swallowed, convulsively, and nodded, chin brushing Ray’s knuckles.
Two quick steps and a table lamp flared to light, bringing the living room into focus. Chris was indeed sitting on an old brown leather sofa, facing a large, new looking telly. Against the opposite wall there was a matching armchair and next to it a bookshelf with various knickknacks in it but not too many actual books. In the corner stood a battered dining table and a couple of mismatching chairs. The room was bare but oddly comfortable, lived-in.
Ray settled into the armchair, stretching out his legs. Chris’ gaze followed the long line of his body, finally coming to rest on Ray’s broad hands that were curled into loose fists and tapping a restless rhythm against the leather.
“Well now, what should we do now? Any ideas?” The question itself was so mild, so normal, as if Ray was expecting him to say ‘How about a beer?’ or ‘I think there’s a game on tonight’.
But there was nothing normal about tonight. And football and beer were the last things on his mind.
Chris shivered and with a muted thump slid to his knees, keeping his eyes firmly on the threadbare carpet. Shame burnt through him, the flames of it licking skin. Ray’s low chuckle told him he was blushing hard. What would people think if they saw him like this? What would Sam think if he…
But Chris knew the answer to that, had know all along. He remembered, in the pub, Sam’s breath, hot against his face and full of words like want and jealous and just follow my lead. He’d laughed at it then, too pissed to put the words together and Sam had too, it had been all drunken gibberish, a great joke.
Except not so much now.
Yes, he knew what Sam would think, what he would do. Exactly what Ray was doing now, only more. The image of him, lithe and quiet, flashed through Chris’ mind – so different from Ray although not really, not in the way it counted.
“I’m waiting.” Ray’s voice had taken on a familiar edge, anger simmering just below the surface.
Chris licked his lips nervously, heart hammering inside his ribcage, loud and erratic like church bells in a storm. This was… he didn’t… “What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me what you want me to do. If you don’t ask for it, it won’t happen.”
No, no, no. Something had to happen. He needed it to. “Please” he said “I want to… like earlier. Behind the pub. Please.”
“You liked that, huh? Tell me.”
“I want to…” He swallowed, the taste of come still lingering on his tongue. “…touch you. Suck you. Please, I want you in my mouth.”
“No.” Ray’s decision was final.
That wasn’t right.
“But, but… I thought… Wasn’t it okay? Was I not good enough? I’m sorry, Ray, please…”
“That’s not it, Chris. Not it at all. You were plenty good.” Ray rubbed his crotch almost absently, never taking his eyes of Chris. He was smiling but it wasn’t exactly a happy expression. “In fact, you were a bit too good to be a complete virgin… But that’s something we’ll have to discuss at another time.”
Chris fidgeted silently, knees digging into the floor, both pleased and apprehensive at the same time.
“The reason I don’t want you to blow me again is quite simply this.” He leaned closer, one hand reaching to grab Chris’ jaw, yanking his head up roughly. “I’m going to fuck you.” He brought their faces together, fingers squeezing like a vice. “I’m going to fuck you but good, Chris, until you beg and plead and fucking cry like the little girl you are. And then…”
Suddenly Ray got to his feet, jerking Chris up with him until the smaller man was dangling in an awkward position, not really kneeling, not quite standing. It hurt, the line of his neck stretched taut like a twine ready to snap and Chris knew – knew without a doubt – that at that moment Ray could do it. He could break him in half, all it would take was a right amount of pressure at the back of his neck.
“…then we will see whose name you scream.” Ray let go and shoved, hard, sending Chris stumbling backwards.
For a few seconds Chris laid on the floor, gasping for breath. Ray stood over him, lips curling like soured milk. “Back on your knees. Strip.”
Chris struggled upright and closed his eyes tightly, concentrating on Ray’s voice giving directions. Get rid of the sweater. He pulled it over his head. Unbutton your shirt. His fingers went to the collar, fumbling with the buttons. Slow down. He did – until the shaking of his hands became obvious and Ray laughed, low and satisfied. He struggled with the cuffs, almost managing to trap himself in the hurry to shed the garment, but finally the cloth yielded and pooled on the floor.
“I want you to touch yourself.”
An involuntary moan escaped his mouth. Yes, thank God, finally. Chris knew this part and his hands crept to the bulge in front of his trousers, still damp from rain and their earlier activities.
Suddenly fingers clamped down painfully on his wrist, stopping its progress with a vicious grip. Chris’ eyes snapped open. Ray was kneeling in front of him, his expression hard.
“Not yet. Don’t go below the belt until I tell you to.”
He’d only touched himself like this when he was alone. Men weren’t supposed to care about stuff like this – slow caresses and lingering touches were for girls. Guys went straight for the main event.
Except… Chris usually didn’t. He liked to take his time and he wasn’t going to pretend not to know what Ray wanted.
He palmed his own ribs, rubbing a lazy hand across his belly. It felt good. Warm. He sighed, eyes fluttering to slits. Ray’s breathing was coming fast and heavy, the tension rippling between them, the current pulling him in deep.
His fingers moved up to his nipples and he flushed violently, both from the physical sensation and the look in Ray’s eyes, all black and glinting sharply in the scarce light of the room.
Chris needed more. He pinched harder, twisting his nipples until the ache became unbearable and he groaned, voice raspy and desperate, arching right into Ray, their chests bumping together.
He was dimly aware of a sound – a low moan, himself, keening – before being ruthlessly pulled up by his hair. Ray’s tongue was down his throat and he didn’t even remember being kissed but that didn’t matter, nothing mattered except the wet, dirty plunge of it. Chris sucked, sloppy and greedy and fuck yeah getting it now for real. Ray’s hands were digging into the vulnerable skin of his back and Chris imagined bruises that would bloom there tomorrow, black and purple flowers of lust.
Ray groped for his fly, the clink of buckle and buttons the only warning he got before trousers and underwear were pushed out of the way and blunt fingers were skimming, scratching, grabbing his sweat-slick hips. Chris tried to thrust up, frantic for release, but the other man wasn’t having any of it.
Instead, Ray jerked his mouth away, simultaneously wrenching Chris’ belt free and bending him over the table in one smooth move.
He was completely helpless, pants bunched around knees and effectively immobilising his legs. Ray held him down, one hand at the back of his neck, the other looping the thin leather belt around his wrists until they were tied together, resting snug just above the swell of his bare buttocks.
The arousal running through him was dark around the edges, tinged with fear and all the more intense for it. Chris gasped for breath and struggled in vain against the restraints, the wood of the tabletop unyielding under his cheek. Playtime was over.
A tiny part of him still wondered why he wasn’t fighting, how this had happened, why he would let Ray… and Sam, God yes, he would let Sam as well… Chris felt blood rush to his groin, leaving him light-headed and writhing, his cock trapped painfully against the table edge.
“Jesus.” Ray said. “Stay still!” And Chris tried, he really did, but the loud smack of Ray’s palm against his arse made his whole upper torso lift clean off the table.
He didn’t have time to react before Ray brought his hand down again and again, hitting his stinging flesh with vigour, each impact slamming him forward.
Ray was punishing him. It was because of Sam, Ray kept telling him, because of how Chris behaved around the DI, making a fool of himself. And of Ray.
Chris couldn’t think past the pain, he was drowning, sinking under the red haze of shame and arousal. He deserved this, needed to be shown what he could and could not do. And Ray was right, he had been stupid, fawning around Sam like a puppy, waiting for something that he already had and just didn’t realise.
After a while the slaps eased into lingering caresses. Ray ran a proprietary hand down his spine and over his ass and all the way to his thighs, quivering and barely able to support his weight anymore. He was rubbing in the heat, fingers separating his cheeks and disappearing between. Chris begged, the litany of pleas muffled and broken.
“Fuck! Hold on, I need to…” Five quick steps and Chris heard a door being wrenched almost off its hinges, a drawer scraping open, and then Ray was back, his hands once again roaming over him, everywhere at once.
Chris squirmed as much as he could, belt tightening around his wrists, the bite of it oddly welcome.
“Shit, Chris, you should see yourself. All trussed up, your pink ass in the air, spread out just for me.”
There was a sound of a jar lid being opened and then cold, slick fingers were probing at his opening, breaching him two at the time, all force and no finesse.
Fuck, that hurt. Chris panted through the pain, eyes wide and tearing up. Sure, he’d known this was coming, had believed Ray’s promise, but he hadn’t known, not in any real sense of the word. Sam, Sam, Sam his mind chanted and he was going to say it out loud soon, he was, any minute now…
Then Ray’s fingers curled and rubbed and Chris was on fucking fire.
Every coherent thought melted away in the sudden heat that coiled tight inside him before spreading in waves throughout his whole body. He broke out in sweat, belly sliding along the table as he blindly pushed back, desperate for more.
“God, I knew it. You’re such a slut.” Ray pulled his fingers out with a final nasty little twist and Chris sobbed from the loss and emptiness, his breaths raw and frantic. Had he done something wrong?
But then he felt a blunt pressure at his opening as Ray pushed in all the way with one smooth thrust and Chris shuddered all over; the pain before nothing compared to this. Ray’s cock was a steady relentless burn in his ass, cleaving him in half. He was crying openly now, just like Ray’d promised he would, muscles clenching as he fought against the intrusion, against the restraints, against his own treacherous body that was already relaxing into compliance. Pleasure was a white-hot current pulling him asunder and Chris gave up, gave in, gave everything he had, the intimacy of their position undeniable, his submission absolute.
In that moment of surrender Chris would have stumbled over the precipice if not for Ray’s hand reaching around, thumb and forefinger wrapping around the base of his cock and squeezing hard, staving off the inevitable. “Do. Not. Come.” Each word emphasised with a tightening of fingers. “Not until I say so.”
“I won’t, I won’t. Just… please, oh God, I need…”
Ray’s hand withdrew, only to smack down on his buttocks once more before seizing his hips in a brutal grip. Ray rammed his cock into him, the head sliding over and over the sweet spot inside and Chris could feel it all the way at the back of his fucking throat. He was trying not to come, not yet, not yet, oh Jesus, please soon. The need for release made his balls throb and tighten, the agony of it lifting him higher.
And yet, underneath it all, a single thought pulsed bright in his mind. Sam.
But not Sam alone. Ray was there too. Had always been.
Chris bit down hard on his split lip, causing a trickle of fresh blood seep into his mouth, desperate to keep quiet. He couldn’t trust himself to cry the right name – didn’t even know what the right name was anymore – and he didn’t want this to stop.
Sam and Ray. Ray and Sam. The two men merged and shifted, one inside his mind, the other inside his body, and oh God he couldn’t tell which was which anymore.
It was Sam who bit down, teeth sinking into his shoulder, seeking muscle underneath the skin and making Chris scream and rear up, back crashing against the hard body over him. And that was Ray, Ray slamming into him, fast and deep, hand coming down to Chris’ cock, pumping once, twice, thumb brushing the slit, slippery with precome.
He squeezed around the thickness in his ass, a sudden rush of scalding liquid splattering his insides and pushing him over. His cock jerked in Ray’s fist – Sam’s mouth – the cradle of fingers and tongues taking possession, taking away control and choice. Chris was coming, the world going nova under his eyelids, orgasm tearing him apart, the blades of pleasure sharp and merciless.
Ray, he thought. Sam.
Then nothing.
***
Awareness returned slowly, creeping around the borders of consciousness like a thief in the night. Ray dropped his forehead into the slick
Shards of thoughts kept falling around him like broken glass in a bar fight and the biggest of them was shit, what have I done? But there were others, quieter but no less insistent like so good and finally and mine. Ray let the last one float to the surface, mouthing it against Chris’ damp skin, somewhat startled by the loudness of his own voice.
Chris made a wordless hum that sounded agreeing, his sluggish movement causing after shocks of pleasure that made Ray tighten his hold again. They stayed like that for another minute, both trembling from the effort to maintain contact but at last Ray had to pull out.
He made short work of the belt, freeing Chris’ wrists and helping him to his feet. “Go on, get into the shower. You stink to high heaven.”
The younger man just blinked at him, boneless like a rag doll, letting himself be moulded and arranged. Ray liked that. Liked it enough to kiss him, softer than before, taking his time. He could afford to do that now.
“Come on then, we’ll both go.”
They were still half-dressed and it was an effort to get out of the clothes, exhaustion making their limbs slow and clumsy. The shower was quick and functional –hot water never lasted long anyway, besides which, Chris was nodding off and Ray had to hold him upright against the wall tiles to keep him from collapsing.
Chris’ pale skin was turning angry red at places, bruises the shape of Ray’s hands starting to appear on his back, hips and arse. Ray felt his mouth water at the sight and he had to quell the desire to just push Chris down to his knees and take him again. It would be so easy, he knew, there would be no resistance from the younger man. He could, it was his right. And for now that had to be enough.
Ray kept his mind carefully blank until they were safely in the bedroom, Chris falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. It was only Thursday, they had to be at work tomorrow and Ray had no idea how he would manage that.
They would have to drive in together, Chris’ car was still at the pub. And people would talk, no doubt about it, because Chris was utterly incapable of keeping anything from showing on his face. Ray could just see it now. Phyllis not meeting his eyes but cataloguing every little detail, fodder for the rumour mill. Guv would smirk but not say anything, probably as unsurprised as Ray himself and Tyler…
Chris hadn’t said it. Hadn’t said Sam’s name. For a short moment he felt content with that, running an idle hand across the younger man’s back, the flat dark and quiet around them once more. But after a while the smile faltered, doubts crawling under his skin like a swarm of insects.
Author’s public service announcement: Warning – Porn Breeds More Porn. After finishing this story I realised that all I had managed to do was set the scene for the inevitable Ray/Chris/Sam threesome where Ray and Sam battle it out to see who’s the top Dom (pun intended) and Chris is confused but very turned on and Author concedes defeat in the face of such hotness. Sigh. But don’t get too excited, it probably won’t happen in the near future. Except in my head, where of course it’s happening right now.
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Thank you for such detailed and complimentary feedback. I love it when people pick out phrases to comment on, those two were personal favourites as well.
Chris was not *supposed* to be so conflicted about the whole Ray/Sam thing but the further into his head I got, the more layered and confused that particular fixation became. So yes, I do think a continuation is in order - if for nothing else, then my own peace of mind.
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You're right - it's more confusion than conflict for Chris - especially when he's losing control and the two men are merging inside his head. And then, at the climax when he thinks both names simultaneously... Great stuff!
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Oh indeed!!
May I friend you? I like your fic a lot.
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i shall reciprocate pronto :)