tug | pete/gerard, r

[mwestbelle]

Tug
Pete/Gerard, R, ~3k
Prompt: Harems, written for sosodirty

The new boys come to Pete, nervous and scared, or if they aren’t nervous, he comes to them, because they should be.

Warnings: sexual slavery, past genital mutilation

Thanks to julesmania for the beta ♥



Pete is getting too damn old for this. The boys get younger and younger, and he’s a healthy ten years older than the eldest of them. By now he should be put out to pasture, napping in the jewel garden and fucking retired concubines. But he’s kept here, past his prime, because he’s the wrong kind of stock, isn’t pretty enough to fill a concubine’s belly with a new plaything for a master years down the line. He doesn’t have a special job, or any special privileges, but his duties are understood. The new boys come to him, nervous and scared, or if they aren’t nervous, he comes to them, because they should be. So many boys, but he can’t help missing the ones that came before. He knows better by now, he’s known better for a long time. He was bought. He came here, with scars on the bottoms of his feet and calluses on his fingers, came to the big hallways and meticulously pruned jewel gardens, and knew that there was nowhere else for him to go. He’s been painted and branded, cut with shapes and inked with boiling dyes that left his skin scarred. There are rings in his nipples, through which chains are be threaded to make him a glittering picture of perfect bondage.

The others, most of them, the ones that he cared for, were not like him. Travie got inked and pierced, but it was out of curiosity. He wanted something to show for his term, physical proof of the things he learned and the life he lived. Whenever he comes back, whether for business or for pleasure, he asks for Pete. Usually Pete isn’t asked to do much, a conversation about words and music with Travie just like old times, and then maybe he’ll lap at William’s dick while Travie fucks him. William is part pleasure boy, part courtesan, part consort, and Pete thinks he’s good for Travie, as much as Pete lets himself think about such things.

Patrick left as soft and white as the day he came, perhaps with less of a tendency to blush, with no mark from his term. No mark of Pete on his perfect skin. Pete doesn’t know if he wanted to forget ever having to spend this time in the pleasure menagerie of the more powerful, or if he simply felt no pull to the dark colors that mar Pete’s skin. It doesn’t really matter why; Patrick is gone, back to wherever and whoever he was before, a young prince or maybe a king now, and perhaps he’s forgotten at whose lips he learned to kiss, to tease the flesh, to take a long, hard length down into his throat.

They both came before, when he was still capable and whole, and now, everything is different.

The newest boy is something of a mystery. He’s pale, perfectly pale like Patrick was, but with dark, dark hair. His skin is clear from the marring of sun or any other brand, like he’s never been traded or owned. His features are delicate, but his expression is wide and elastically unpleasant. He’s also thick, shorter and broader than the usual. Pete’s favorites have always been unusual. He has his arms folded over his belly, clearly trying to hide where the gauzy pants sling low on his soft hips. He looks scared, and angry, and pristine.

Ryan glares at him when Pete gets to his feet and walks towards the new boy. Ryan, Pete thinks, would like to be his, like Travie and Patrick were, but Ryan is birdlike and sharp, inside and out. He’ll be fine. If Pete’s right, he’ll thrive in the glittering world for the term that he’s here. From what he’s heard of the Ross family, it will do Ryan good to spend a year away from home. The material of his pants swishes around his legs and the links on the chain dangling between his nipples clink together with each step.

“Hey there.” Closer up, he can see that the new boy is unlined, uncallused, untouched. A lot of them are, but it still makes Pete feel even wearier about what he’ll do “for” them.

The boy looks up, eyes clouded and lips pressed tightly together. “Hey. What?”

“I’m Pete.” Pete watches him take in the nipple rings, the markings. Once he gets up to the kohl around his eyes, he’s making eye contact and his eyes drop immediately.

“People, uh. They call me Garry.”

“Yeah? What do you want people to call you?” Some kids get it, that their term is a chance to try something new, be a different person than you could be at home. The kid looks at him askance before wetting his lips with a pink tongue.

“Gerard.”

Pete nods. “Hey Gerard. What do you know about sex?”

Gerard splutters and turns pink, and Pete doesn’t even listen to what he says. It doesn’t matter, he already knows what he needs to. He looks over his shoulder and sees that the cushions and lounges around them have been evacuated, so the other pleasure boys are just shapes moving somewhere behind thick and hazy curtains. Pete makes a mental note to see what he can do for Ryan.

“I’m going to teach you,” Pete says, like he has to boy after boy after boy. The words are rote in his mind now, and he doesn’t even try to put much emotion into them. He gets no joy from these words, they aren’t his any longer. “If you pay attention and remember what I teach you, everything will be fine. You’ll be happy here.”

“Fuck that,” Gerard snorts.

Pete stares. “What the fuck?”

“Fuck all of that,” Gerard says, and there’s real fire in his eyes, despite how nervous the twitch of his mouth is. “I’m not. I’m not some fucking toy, I’m a person. I’m not doing any of it.”

“You have to.” Pete keeps staring at him, uncomprehending. He’s never got a response like that before. Nervousness, gratitude, begrudging acceptance, he’d thought he’d experienced the full run of emotions. But not this.

“Fuck if I do. You can’t make me.”

“I can’t. There are plenty here who can. And will.” They won’t be too harsh, with a new boy on his term, but Gerard will do what is asked of him or he will be forced into it. Gerard’s eyes stay hard, and Pete shakes his head. “It’s not that bad, seriously. There are a lot worse places to spend your term.”

“I’m.” Gerard falters at that, and Pete knows the truth before he says it. “I’m not on term.”

“You’re slave stock?”

Gerard bristles at that, clearly offended. “I’m not. I’m. My mom is a concubine at the land near the sea.”

“We have a lake,” Pete points out, and Gerard rolls his eyes.

“It’s not even the same thing, whatever.” He sobers again, though, and shrugs a little. “They. I’m a gift.”

“Then you really need me.” Gerard starts to speak again and Pete shakes his head, talking over him. “Seriously, man, they might take some lip and resistance from a new princeling on term, but they own you. You’ve got no chance to get out of this, and you’re way too pretty to be forgotten about.”

The blush staining Gerard’s cheeks darkens, and he shakes his head again. “I can’t. I. It’s wrong. I’m a fucking human being.”

Pete usually tries to be kind, break them in, but Gerard needs a reality trip, and fast. “Not here.” Gerard flinches, but Pete keeps going. “You’re just a sextoy, you’ll get your betters off however they want you, and you’ll be fucking grateful if you get a pat on the head in return.”

Gerard is biting his lip hard enough to turn it white, and Pete wishes he could take pity on him and let him be, but leaving him alone would only be cruelty. He’s going to learn, and if Pete doesn’t teach him, it’s going to be at much harsher hands.

“C’mon.” Pete shakes his head and takes a step closer, into Gerard’s space. “Why don’t we lie down together for a while?”

Gerard’s cheeks are brilliantly pink, and Pete hasn’t had a blusher like this since Patrick. But he sits down on one of the long cushioned lounges, slowly and giving Pete wide eyes, like he thinks this might be some kind of trick. Pete sits next to him and rests a hand on his shoulder, pushing him gently back until he’s lying down, breathing hard enough that he quivers all over, staring distrustfully up at Pete.

“You’ll be expected to know how to use your mouth, above anything else,” Pete starts, rubbing his hand over Gerard’s side, soothing. “Hands are important too, and they’ll want to take you sometimes, but if you learn to use your mouth well enough, usually there won’t be much else asked of you.”

Gerard was still looking up at him like Pete might bite him, but the floaty, loose pants pleasure boys wore hold no secrets. Pete slid his hand down from Gerard’s side to rest over the line of his cock. Gerard’s entire body shuddered, and Pete squeezed gently.

“This is new to you, isn’t it?”

Gerard‘s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, dark fringe against high spots of flushed color. “We weren’t allowed. I’ve. Not ever.”

Pete watched him; sweat beaded on his pale chest and ran down in little rivulets when he heaved in another breath, and this was horrible. It didn’t phase him normally; a lot of the boys who came for their term weren’t virgins, but the ones that were had some kind of understanding of what they were meant to do, how things went, and were, generally, very excited to be relieved of something they thought of as a childish burden.

He took his hand off Gerard’s cock, and Gerard whimpered at the loss. “I. Fuck.”

“What?” Gerard struggled to sit up and only managed to get propped up on one elbow. “Why. I thought you were going to teach me.”

“I.” Pete stared at him, his big earnest eyes and how fucking pretty he was. They would eat him alive, and Pete couldn’t bring himself to be the one who started it. “No, I can’t.”

He expected--he didn’t know what he expected, but not Gerard’s face scrunching up. “What the fuck, what kind of bullshit is that?”

Pete didn‘t really know how to respond to that. “It’s not bullshit.”

“No? One minute you’re going to make life easier for me, and the next you’re, what, just going to back off and throw me to the wolves? Fuck that.”

“You’re. What the fuck, dude, seriously? You want me to just…take your innocence, or whatever?”

Gerard rolled his eyes. “Uh, no, obviously not. But if it’s you or some asshole who’s going to shove his dick in my mouth without a second thought, I’m taking you.”
Which was the same sort of logic Pete had just dismissed for the moral high ground, and, really, the kid was asking for it. And it wasn’t like he’d ever taken the moral high ground before.

“Fine. You want to know how to give a blowjob?” Gerard blanched a little at Pete’s quick turn, but he nodded. Pete started to shift, then looked up at Gerard’s saucer-sized eyes. “You’re not going to last two seconds.”

“Probably not,” Gerard whispered.

Pete jerked him first, and it only took three strokes before Gerard was coming over his belly with a sound that was just as surprised as pleased, and it made warmth curl traitorously in Pete’s groin.

Pete moved then, off the lounge to kneel on the floor. He rested his hands on Gerard’s knees and guided him around until he was slumped, looking down at Pete with big eyes, soft cock against his thigh.

“They usually want you to tease,” Pete said, and he bent to kiss Gerard’s inner thigh, which quivered under the soft touch. He kissed his way out to Gerard’s knee, and when he turned his head to kiss from his other knee back to his thigh, he saw that Gerard’s cock was already half-hard again. When he reached the soft, uppermost skin at the inside of Gerard’s other thigh, he turned his head and pressed a wet kiss to the side of Gerard’s cock.

“Holy shit.” It was weak, but surprised, and Pete had to smirk up at him.

“Yeah, the ride hasn’t even started yet, kid.” He wrapped a hand around the base of Gerard’s cock. “When you get better, you can go hands free, but start off like this.”

Gerard nodded weakly, and he went limp when Pete took the head of his cock into his mouth. He went slow, trying to show Gerard what he would need, tricks he could use. He hummed to himself, lapping under the head and sucking hard, and Gerard came within a few minutes, despite having taken the edge off.

Pete swallowed and wiped a hand against the back of his mouth. “Always swallow, unless they tell you to hold it in your mouth.”

Gerard nodded weakly and, to Pete’s surprise, shifted, tugging at the waist of his pants. Pete had pegged him as a swooner. But he was pulling his pants back up and looking down at Pete with dark and curious eyes. “Is it the practical part of the lesson yet?”

Pete arched his eyebrows and shook his head. “Sorry kid, you’ll have to find someone else to play with.”

“What?” Gerard went from faint haziness to sharp attention faster than Pete would have given him credit for. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Uh, yeah.” Pete shrugged. “This is a no play zone, sorry.”

“That’s shit,” Gerard said. “I. Come on, how am I supposed to know what I’m doing without trying it?”

“I don’t know, dude, I definitely recommend you do a practice run.” Pete shook his head. “It just won’t be with me. I don‘t. I can‘t do that for you.”

Gerard wasn‘t willing to drop it. “It’s fine for you to do me, but not for me to do you? I don’t even get the logic there.”

“It’s not logic, it’s about fucking physical reality, man, sorry.” Pete pulled a face, twisting his mouth up, half-baring his teeth and raising his eyebrows. “I just. Don’t have the goods, sorry to say.”

That got the reaction he was used to, a quick, scared glance towards his groin. “No, seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“But. Why?”

Pete shrugged. “I was an uppity brat? Showed off too much in front of the wrong people? And I’m not breeder stock.”

“Not. So they just.” He made a snipping motion with his fingers that would have made Pete wince in earlier days. Now he just nodded.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Gerard was still frowning at him, and Pete shifted a little under his gaze, ready to get off his knees and go back to--well, he wasn’t really going back to anything, but being stared at wasn’t exactly fun, no matter how often it happened.

“You.” Gerard swallowed audibly. “You’ve got…nothing, then?”

“Well. Not exactly. But, I mean, it’s not like it’s worth anything.” Pete made a face and shrugged one shoulder. “So. Nothing to be thinking about.”

“So you can’t--not anything?”

“Uh, no.” Pete could feel, stupid little tendrils of arousal inside, but it didn’t do any good. “It’s. Like, just useless.”

“That sucks.”

“No shit.” Pete shifted on his knees. “So, maybe you should go see who wants to play with you. Frankie likes being the blowjob-dummy, if you’re interested.”

“Could I.” Gerard frowned, a crease forming between his eyebrows and his little pointy nose wrinkling up. “I mean, I could still do the whole teasing part on you, right? Unless that would--god, I‘m being an asshole, aren‘t I? You don‘t want that.”

Pete hadn’t ever been offered it, not simply like that. Travie would touch him when he was there, familiar touches that were careful now that things were different. But no one had just asked him, wanted to touch and taste knowing that nothing else could happen. Or they’d been afraid, maybe, to offend him, to offer him the prelude to something he can never have again.

Gerard scooted away from him, ducking his head so his hair hung in front of his eyes, and Pete reached out to grab his knee. “I might. Want that.”

“Even though you can’t?”

“Yeah. Even though.”

“Oh.” Gerard pushed his hair out of his face and smiled, shy. “Uh, are you coming up here, or should I come down there?”

Pete crawled up from between Gerard’s thighs to straddle him, pushing Gerard against the back of the couch. Gerard was watching him with eyes that were big, maybe a little distrustful, but definitely intrigued. He kissed him, softly, not wanting to scare him off--and Gerard hooked his fingers over the chain dangling between Pete’s nipples and tugged.

Pete grunted more out of surprise, though a spark of pained arousal did trace down through his belly. He opened his eyes, and Gerard was grinning. This kid, Pete thought, ducking down to kiss him with teeth, was definitely going to learn to fit in here.

Gerard needed some guidance, but once Pete stretched back and let Gerard crawl over him, he saw the natural aptitude. Gerard ran his tongue over the rings in Pete's nipples, and then down, to lick broad stripes over the thick black lines low on his belly. Gerard lifted his head up to peer down at what he'd traced with his tongue, then glanced up at Pete. "This is ugly as shit, what the hell is it?"

Pete licked his lips and shook his head. "No clue, I didn't pick it. It's not that ugly. I think it's kind of cool."

Gerard ducked his head back down, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like you would, and closed his teeth around the jut of Pete's hipbone. It was all good, touches that were hesitant only out of shyness, Gerard's unstudied attempts, not because he was fucking fragile or broken.

But it could only last so long, because Gerard was sitting back up and pulling Pete's pants down and...then he was just staring.

Pete shifted awkwardly under Gerard's gaze, forcing himself not to look down. He'd spent more than enough peering at himself, trying to wish himself whole again, twisting and turning in the mirror to figure out some angle that he could look right from. He had no success in either of his attempts, needless to say.

"Yeah, never mind." Pete reached down to grab his pants, but Gerard caught his wrist, and looked up to his eyes.

"Hey. No."

Pete started to respond, say it's cool or I don't even want to touch that mess, why would you?. Gerard moved down and pressed a kiss just at the crux of his thigh and then...further over. He sucked what was left of Pete into his mouth, gently cradling the soft bit of flesh against his tongue. A gasp stuck in Pete's throat; it wasn't going to do anything, it couldn't, but it felt good. It felt better than anything in a long time had. It was fucking stupid, because Gerard was just some new toy for people who were infinitely more important than him, he didn't even know him...but it felt tender. Like something was right.

He made a soft sound, and Gerard picked his head up, eyes wide and lips slick with spit. "You--is this okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's good." Pete nodded, reaching down and pushing Gerard's hair back. "It's real good."