(no subject)

[iniquiticity]

handcuffs and waxplay for ironflint wham? i know alex might have to do some convincing, but then...

in one of their meetings someone saw the bruise of a cuff on Alex’s wrist, and asked him if he’d gotten into some kind of trouble. Alex laughed and shook his head. Fell off my bike, he said, nonchalantly, At least I was wearing a helmet, right?

The idea that another person could know this, what they did, what Alex reveled it - was one Washington did not like to consider. There was a tight circle who knew his habits and preferences, but if he had his way such things would not even be exposed to men he thought decent enough to know them. Alex and been very upset, when Washington had said he could no longer be cuffed. Alex rolled his eyes and growled and baited him until Washington forced his cock into Alex’s mouth and Alex play-fought against him until he was choking.

Some days later, Alex blocked up a large portion of his afternoon without explaining why. This, of course, indicated that he had some sexual deviancy he wanted to explore. Washington deleted the event. Alex rescheduled it for after dinner, which was suitable.

“So, I was thinking, no bruises, right?” Alex said. He was naked and sitting on Washington’s couch. He had a new tattoo on his stomach, some kind of bee or wasp. “But you know what occurred to me? Wax.”

“Like a candle?” Washington said. He was sitting at his desk, reading the Wall Street Journal, which he had not finished from this morning, due to an emergency meeting regarding international logistics.

“Just like a candle,” Alex said, and then stood up and went over to his leather briefcase, to where he pulled out two white candles, one which had already been used. He lit one, and then took out a little silver dish, setting the candle in it. “Perfect solution. Doesn’t leave a mark. Peels right off.”

Despite himself, Washington was intrigued. He folded the newspaper neatly and stood, sitting on the couch, and picked up the candle in it’s dish. His assistant was, in fact, looking less bruised than he normally was.

“Try it,” Alex said, and offered his forearm. Washington took the candle and tilted it over the exposed forearm, and a drop of wax melted from it and fell, splattering on his skin. Alex hissed, relaxing against the arm of the couch. then, he peeled it off and put the flake on the coffee table. “See? That’s the kind of enterprising problem-solving that you pay for.”

“I suppose that it is,” Washington said. His eyes flicked to the dining room table, and he let Alex read him like a book. The man got up and laid on the table like a fucking entree. Washington dripped the candle all over him, liked his hisses and purrs, flinches. He shuddered, when the wax dripped on his thighs, lifted his head and watched as Washington came closer to his cock, thick and proud against his stomach. Washington thought about it.