Trust

P.O.V. Two

Race has no idea how this happened. Well, not entirely true; he knows he has a single, and Blink has a freshman double, and so there was no way they were going to Blink's room. He knows Blink is the freshman rep to the GLBTQ group and that Blink is almost too hot to look directly at. He knows Blink had his heart broken by the incredibly gorgeous and incredibly slutty president of the group, who has this thing about innocent freshman boys, which frankly pisses Race off.

As for Race, it's been two years and he's still trying to recover from the break up with the Asshole. He never refers to the Asshole by name, has tried to stop referring to him at all, but spent a good eight months trying to scrape his self-image off the floor where the Asshole left it, and so no matter how hard he tries to convince himself he's totally over the relationship, two years later it's still in the back of his mind.

But he and Blink had commiserated over their heartbreak after a meeting one night, which lead to a date, which lead to another, and some screwing around, and finally here they are, in Race's room, the door locked firmly behind them. But their plans for the night--well, Race's, really, with Blink's tentative agreement--are what Race isn't sure where they came from. He knows what he enjoys, true, and he thinks Blink might like it. He prays Blink will like it. But why Blink agreed to it--agreed to go so far with him--he has no idea.

They kiss their way from the door to the bed and collapse with each other on to it, Race's hand already working its way inside Blink's shirt. Blink's body language and what looks like it's already the beginning of a bulge in Blink's pants imply he's enjoying it, so Race helps him out of his shirt and gets no resistance. Race almost can't believe how incredibly well built Blink's body is. No wonder Mush--the senior who'd broken his heart--had wanted to screw around with him; there was no one else on campus that freaking built.

Race kisses him again, a long, lingering kiss that he hopes shows just how eager he is, before pulling away to ask Blink if he's sure it's okay. He's afraid it isn't, he's afraid Blink is forcing himself into something he'll hate so Race will like him--the way the Asshole did to Race--and he's afraid he'll lose Blink. But Blink nods and looks genuinely excited, so Race reaches over into the drawer of his bedside table and finds the pair of handcuffs he bought a few months ago, checks to make sure the key is there too, and pulls them out.

Blink stares at them for a second, looking a little unsure and uncomfortable, so Race kisses him again, he hopes reassuringly. "If you don't want--" he starts, but Blink interrupts him.

"I do." Blink says it firmly, though nervously. "I do, I just... I trust you, so it's okay."

Race wonders if the phrase I trust you should send such a thrill through him. Probably not, but Race can't help it. The thought of someone trusting him so deeply, after everything the Asshole put him through, is amazing. He kisses Blink again, loves the feeling of Blink's lips, wants to never stop kissing him. "I'd never hurt you. Let me know if you're uncomfortable," he says between kisses, and Blink promises he will.

"Good." Race allows himself one last, sweet kiss, then sits up straight. What he has in mind sort of requires being... well, dominant. Which means looking the part, sounding it, playing it. He looks down at Blink, so eager and so beautiful, and smirks, hardly believing Blink really wants this. But Blink doesn't hesitate when Race takes his wrists and cuffs them, and if Race is right--which he's certain he is--Blink is shivering with pleasure already.

They make and hold eye contact and Race can't believe this. Such a beautiful man, all his. There's no reason for Blink to want him or to trust him, Race doesn't understand that. But he's going to make sure Blink has the time of his life. Race takes his wrists and guides them up to the top of the bed, curls them around the mattress. Blink shifts slightly to do it and just the sight of him makes Race want him. He smirks. "You're going to hold on there," he says, brushing a finger over one of Blink's, loving his smooth skin. "No matter what."

Blink nods and Race wonders if Blink knows how much power he has--honestly, Race thinks, he just wants Blink to want him, and the fact that Blink does... Blink nods, and Race runs a finger down his body. Oh dear God, he's got an amazing body, and it's all Race's to play with.

He won't let that go to his head, though.

Well, not much. He straddles Blink, feels that amazing chest between his legs and the fact that he doesn't lose control there is pretty impressive. Race's control is really tenuous at best, but he manages to keep Blink from knowing that. It's all part of playing the role. He runs his fingers across Blink's face, kisses him, waits for Blink to kiss back before he moves to reach for the drawer, feeling Blink's nerves and how he tenses up. He reaches for the blindfold, finds it by feel; it's a soft black velvet that he hopes will be comfortable. He drops it on the table and reaches to slide off Blink's eyepatch, but Blink tenses and shudders and turns away lightly. He starts to move, but Race reaches out to hold him down, feels the amazing curve of Blink's bicep under his hand. Sweet Jesus.

"Race, stop, don't--"

"Trust me," Race says calmly, hoping Blink won't know he's pleading.

"I do." Blink smiles and settles down. "Just... It's ugly, Race."

But Race really wants to do this, he thinks if Blink will let him it will be amazing. Race sets the eyepatch aside and takes in the sight. The eye itself is too pale, clearly blind, and nestled in a mess of scars, now long healed over but still visible. But it isn't ugly. It's just Blink. Race feels privileged to be allowed to see it and it's hard to keep his voice steady when he comments, "Nothing about you is ugly."

But Blink clearly doesn't want him staring at it, so he reaches for the blindfold and slides it in place. Blink relaxes and Race kisses him, oh dear lord how Race loves his lips. But this isn't about what he wants, it's about what Blink wants, so he forces himself to stop, to move off Blink, and makes his way over the minifridge in the corner of his room. Luckily he remembered to make up ice cubes for a change; usually he doesn't bother. But he's definitely not using these for a drink. Holding the ice in one hand he uses the other to trace the lines of Blink's body. His muscle definition is so amazing, Race wonders how much time he spends in the gym. Race wonders if maybe they could work out together sometime.

He feels Blink begin to squirm and sees the look on his face, a combination of ecstasy and agony, and begins to tease Blink's nipple with a finger, and as Blink begins to whimper slightly--possibly the most amazing sound Race has ever heard--he leans down to lick Blink's nipple and then sucks at it, and Blink arches his back and moans. Race lifts his lips away from Blink's body and presses the ice to where they were, and Blink yells one gorgeous, high pitched note before clamping his jaw shut. The sound shoots down Race's spine and straight to his pelvis, and he has needs like he'd never thought he'd feel again. But he reminds himself quickly that this is about Blink and what Blink wants, not what he wants.

Ice, tongue, the amazing body beneath his lips. The way Blink thrusts upwards against him is so fabulous, the look on Blink's face--Race slides a knee over Blink's thigh to hold him down, knowing that they're both loving what he's doing, and Blink struggles against it slightly, unintentionally, as Race keeps teasing until the ice is just about gone and he deposits it in his water glass on the table, then looks down to see the drops of melted ice glistening on Blink's skin.

Race draws a line of cool water down Blink's body, runs his finger across the flesh where Blink's boxers are showing over the top of his incredibly tight jeans. Race runs his gaze down past the sliver of boxers to those deliciously tight jeans, and sees the now very obvious bulge at Blink's crotch. It's quite impressive and Race decides it's about time to give Blink what he clearly wants. He undoes Blink's jeans, pulls him down his incredibly gorgeous legs and tosses them off to the side.

Blink moans even more loudly, even before Race reaches for him, and at Race's touch it happens again, louder. Race has never been with someone so unashamedly loud before, and the fact that Blink is obviously enjoying himself is about the sexiest thing Race has ever seen, makes him desperate for a little relief of his own. But all he wants is to make Blink happy, so he runs his thumb up Blink's shaft and Blink is very nearly yelling with pleasure.

Race pauses so Blink can catch his breath. "Jesus, Blink; you need a gag or what?" he asks, as Blink pants.

"Sorry--sorry--" Blink apologizes, his face flushed, as Race begins to move again. He can't help himself; he thinks of Blink and how much he wants Blink to have the most amazing experience he'll ever have, but the throbbing under his jeans is almost aching now. He needs something, just a little, so as he slips off his bed he strips, leaves his clothes in a heap on the floor, and situates himself over Blink's upper chest again, leans forward to brace himself against the wall.

Blink seems to get the idea, opens his mouth just slightly and Race presses himself against those gorgeous lips. "Consider it a gag," he pants lightly, feeling stupid even as he says it. The Asshole used to tell him he was stupid for things like that, never wanted him to talk, hated his smart mouth.

But if Blink thought it was stupid, he doesn't seem to object any; he opens his mouth and begins to do the most amazing things with his tongue. Race can barely keep his breath, the feeling shoots through and up him and before he can stop himself, he begins to thrust down in to Blink's mouth. Blink's lips tighten around him and Blink lets him take control.

He feels Blink's muscles convulse slightly under him, realizes he's going to far and pulls himself back with a shock of guilt. This is supposed to be for Blink, and here he's gone and gotten himself so wrapped up in his own pleasure that he's nearly choked the beautiful blond boy. I’Äôm so sorry... he thinks, but he hasn't stopped. He's careful now, though, and knows he should stop, but it's so hard to force himself. He's certainly not thinking with his brain at this point.

But as he begins to get closer to the edge he realizes this isn't right. He ought to be putting Blink's pleasure ahead of his own; he can deal with his own later. This isn't for him and he forces himself to stop, about the most difficult thing he's done in his entire life, and sits next to Blink to catch his breath, kisses Blink's cheek. "You're so..." he mumbles. "I almost lost my concentration there." He sucks at Blink's neck. "Jesus, you're so hot."

He takes a deep breath, wishing he could concentrate better, and climbs back on top of Blink, kisses him, sucks his neck, shoulders, chest, everywhere. Bites, licks, anything to get a moan or a pant or any reaction from Blink at all. Every trick he knows, everything the Asshole taught him, everything that's ever gotten a reaction for anyone. Just... Anything to make Blink squirm and pant, any reaction at all.

And when neither one of them can stand it any longer, Race removes Blink's boxers, lets them join the heap of clothing on the floor, and lightly tickles Blink's legs. The way Blink writhes, trying not to laugh, is the most amazing turn on he's ever experienced. Blink wants him. Blink actually wants him.

Race reaches for him but realizes he's forgotten something and kicks himself mentally. Sorry, loverboy, he apologizes mentally, and has to move to get back to the drawer to find the lube, muttering in annoyance at himself. He pours a liberal amount onto his hand, makes sure it's nice and slippery, and starts again, slides his hand up and down the shaft, generating as much friction and heat as he can, then licks his lips and leans down.

Race has always liked giving head, as it's something he's actually good at. Even the Asshole thought he was good; said it was the only thing he was good at. The only thing that made spending time with him worthwhile, the only thing that made him worth fucking.

But Blink wants him.

That thought makes him desperately want to prove himself to Blink, prove to himself that he can please a partner. Blink thrashes beneath him, moaning, writhing, arching his back. Race works harder, one still sticky hand on Blink's pelvis to hold him in place, other hand still working on Blink's shaft. He feels Blink suddenly go rock hard in his mouth, spasm slightly and Race braces himself. Blink comes and he swallows the acrid stuff, hand still moving until Blink is done, lying on bed and breathing very hard. Then he lets himself stop and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, moves to get a tissue and clean up what spilled.

Race takes a minute to lean against the wall and catch his breath, just staring at the incredibly gorgeous boy on the bed, trying and failing to catch his breath, smiling so hugely it's like his grin is too big for his face. Blink's face is flushed and he's sweaty, and breathing hard, blindfold in place, handcuffs in place...

Race crosses back to him, kisses his neck. "So fucking sexy," he mumbles, just wanting Blink to know how amazing he is. "God. I gotta... Blink," he says. "I--" He can't even vocalize it, so he kisses Blink instead, rubs against him, and is reminded again that for all he almost lost control earlier, he hasn't yet, and dear god does he want to. "God, I gotta... Roll over." He nudges Blink's shoulder, and Blink does so without hesitating or asking why, changing his grip on the mattress.

"Blink, you a virgin?" Race asks, going to his drawer again.

"No--well--kinda."

"You don't sound so sure, there," he says, finding what he wanted in the drawer. He opens the condom as Blink answers.

"I, uh, I've been pretty far. But never actually, ya know..."

"Mmm." Race kisses him. He can't believe someone as painfully hot as Blink is a virgin. He kisses the back of Blink's neck, tastes the salt leftover form all the sweating he's been doing. He wants this so badly, but doesn't want to go farther than Blink is ready for. "Would it be okay if I...?" he asks hesitantly, knowing this isn't part of the role; asking permission is hardly dominant. But he put too much trust in the Asshole, and won't do that to someone else, ever.

"You can do whatever you want," Blink answers breathily. Race smiles down at him, moves to massage him slightly, hoping he'll relax. The first time always makes people nervous, and Race doesn't want this to be something Blink will regret later. He wants this to be the most amazing thing Blink has felt in his life. He begins to talk in a low tone in Blink's ear. "This will be good," he promises. "It'll feel good, just relax." Blink seems to understand, calms down. "You're sure it's okay?" he presses.

"I want you," Blink pants.

Race kisses his neck again, reaches for the lube for a second time that night, applies a generous amount to Blink, gently, then changes position so he's lying on top of Blink practically. Blink tenses as he pushes in, gasps in a sharp breath. I'm sorry it hurts, I shouldn't...

But he is, he pushes in slightly further and the gasp becomes a moan, and Blink isn't the only one who feels good. This is the most amazing thing Race has felt since... Since he doesn't want to think about. His hands are on Blink's shoulders, fingers digging into his collar bone. "Oh, Jesus," he mumbles, and presses further. Blink gasps again, and Race can tell he's getting turned on again. He presses nearly all the way in and Blink just keeps moaning. Spurred on by the fact that Blink is obviously enjoying himself, Racetrack begins to thrust, withdraw, and thrust, his mind reeling with pleasure. The longer he goes, the more he wants, and it isn't long before the thrusting is faster and deeper and both he and Blink are feeling something like bliss.

Race finally thrusts hard, all the way in, and he feels Blink spasm slightly underneath him, moaning. And since Blink has come twice, Race releases his own inhibitions; finally feels as though it would be okay to let himself feel that same release. After that, he doesn't think anymore, just feels the amazing connection between his body and Blink's, and a minute later feels everything that's been built up pour out and hears himself moaning.

It takes a few seconds before he feels steady enough to move, to make his way to the trash and tissues and get cleaned off, and then brings the box back to where Blink is lying. He nudges Blink to roll over again and cleans him up, too, not caring about his sheets at all.

Finally, he reaches up to take the blindfold off Blink, who stares up at him as he adjusts to the light. Blink looks amazing, and he looks ecstatic, and Race can't believe that's because of him. But he's smiling.

"Race, can I have my eyepatch?" Blink asks finally, breaking the silence. "Please?"

Race almost kicks himself for forgetting that Blink gets nervous without his eyepatch on, and hurriedly puts it back in place, kisses him. "I mean it," Race says, thinking about how Blink seems so unhappy without the eyepatch. "Nothing about you is ugly." Race is ugly; he knows it because he was told it enough times. Goddamn ugly Italian fag. He pushes the thought from his mind. "And anyone who said it doesn't deserve you."

He looks away, hoping Blink doesn't see that he's remembering the Asshole, because he should be thinking about how wonderful Blink is, not about... Other things.

Finally he digs through the drawer one last time, finds the key to the cuffs and unlocks them, takes Blink's hands in his so he can massage his wrists, kiss them where they're red. And then they just hold hands, lying next to each other. And after a long pause, he rolls closer to Blink and puts his head on Blink's shoulder. Blink puts an arm around him and he sighs happily, though quietly. Race shoves thoughts of the Asshole away, because while Blink has an arm around him, he can't help but be happy. "You're amazing," he tells Blink, after kissing his neck. He wonders if Blink has any idea how wonderful he is.

"I've never felt anything like that before," Blink answers, a little embarrassed. "It was..."

Race wonders if this is moving too fast, but doesn't care. "You want to spend the night?" he offers, desperately hoping the answer is yes.

"Mmm." Blink pulls him closer, strong arms wrapped around his body. "Nothing would make me happier."

Race just smiles.

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