Lipstick Promises (Common Law Fic)
Nov. 24th, 2014 12:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asphaltcowgrrlTitle: Lipstick Promises
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Wes Mitchell/Travis Marks
Rating: NC-17 at least
Word Count: 3,510
Warnings: Crossdressing and smut ahead.
Summary: Travis' big mouth gets him into trouble - again - and Wes makes him pay.
Author’s Note: I wrote this back in uhhhh… April, and never posted it. So, since November has been a rather sucky posting month for me, I thought I’d finally get this out there so I don’t have a truly pathetic showing. Side note, if you’d like to know what Wes’ lipstick looks like, you can find it here. Oddly enough? I don’t wear makeup, but I love picking it out for Wesleigh.
If you're so inclined, you can find the video for the song here.
Wrists straining against the cuffs restraining him, Travis arched his neck as far forward as he could manage, searching. “Wes baby,” he called into the empty room, “where’d you go?”
“Not far.” The voice drifted to him from somewhere near the doorway.
As the body connected to the voice stepped into the bedroom, Travis saw a long swath of pale skin clad in nothing but a pair of hot pink high heels. It’d turned him on last night, seeing his lover in those heels and a short skirt, but nothing compared to seeing him in nothing but those damn heels.
“Wes, you’re killing me,” he moaned. “Come back to bed.”
“In a minute,” he promised, fingers whispering down the length of Travis’ bare chest. “Have to get something first.”
“Hurry,” he begged, unashamed of the raw need in his voice.
He listened as the footsteps moved away from where he lay chained and then returned. The bed dipped and Travis turned his head in the direction of the weight. He watched as Wes climbed onto the mattress and straddled his lap, leaning back and resting his perfect backside against his wide, muscular thighs. The heat of Wes’ bare skin seared him, igniting the passion within for the third time that night.
“I’m here, gorgeous,” he purred, leaning forward and placing a hand against Travis’ chest, fingers splayed against dark skin.
“I see that,” he panted, taking in every inch of flesh bared to his sight. “What did you go get?”
A smile crinkled the blond’s face. “This,” he said, holding up a single, silver tube.
“Lipstick,” Travis guessed, knowing full well that whatever Wes might have been wearing when he’d arrived six hours ago was long gone by this point. Everything but the heels, he reminded himself. Those had stayed put.
“Correct,” Wes announced, pointing the tube of lip color at him. Sliding the top off, he turned the bottom until a hint of bright pink peeked over the edge. Pursing his lips, Wes ran the color over his already pink lips, taking care to cover each millimeter of skin. “Hmmm, I need to… oh, never mind.”
Before Travis could ask, Wes bent his elbow and lowered himself until his lips touched the center of Travis’ chest. He looked down at the flawless imprint of his lover’s even more perfect mouth on his skin and groaned, cock aching. “Baby, please, let me out of these things.” He rattled the cuffs against the headboard for emphasis.
Wes returned to an upright position and shook his head. “After what you said to me earlier? I don’t think so, hero.”
Travis shifted beneath Wes’ weight. “I didn’t mean it, you know that. We were role playing, right? Just getting into character.”
“Hmm,” he stalled, trailing a finger along the ridges of Travis’ defined abs. “So you were playing the role of the asshole male, huh?”
“Yeah I – uh, no! Wes, come on.” He squirmed under the blond’s touch again, desperate for more. “You know I don’t think of you as fragile or feminine, not even when you’re wearing heels and carrying a purse.”
“No?” He squeezed a nipple between two fingers.
“No, he gasped. “Although… although I think you need pearls for that dress you had on earlier.” Fuck, he needed those pearls now. A simple string around his neck to accentuate the fact he wasn’t wearing a damn thing more than that.
“I like pearls,” he said, smiling again finally. “But I prefer black pearls and those wouldn’t match my dress.” He made a face and it took all Travis had not to laugh at how cute he was.
“You want me to get you another dress then?” He was only half joking. If it meant relieving the pressure currently building in his groin, he’d buy Wes a new dress, pearls and a new pair of shoes. “Or just the pearls, baby?”
“Just the pearls,” he breathed, lips caressing his check. “I have a nice variety of dresses, thanks to you.”
They both knew Wes wouldn’t dream of letting him even think of buying him jewelry, but it was fun to pretend. It was just another part of the game they played. Although, Wes did let him buy other things – dresses, flowers, toys – jewelry was off limits, mainly due to the disparity in their bank accounts. “I’ll get you whatever you want, baby, just let me touch you.”
“Not yet,” he said, pressing another kiss to the opposite side of his face, along the line of his strong jaw.
Wes lifted his hips, scooting forward, fitting the hard ridge of Travis’ cock between his ass cheeks. “Promise you don’t see me as the helpless girl in need of protecting?”
“Promise,” he swore. And it was true. Wes could handle himself in any situation, the man didn’t know what the world ‘vulnerable’ even meant. Not until he slipped into his alternate persona and even then, he was still utterly, completely in control.
“Maybe I can forgive you,” he teased, “but I’m not uncuffing you quite yet.”
“Why not,” he half-cried. “I apologized.”
“I know you did,” he agreed, kissing the bulge of his Adam’s apple and then the crest of his collarbone. “But you still suggested I was a helpless little girl who needed a man.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tried to explain again. “I just meant you needed a man, baby.”
“And how is that different from what I said?” He grazed the edges of his teeth along an erect nipple.
“I just meant you needed a man like I need you right now.” He lifted his hips, rubbing against Wes’ pert backside.
“Ahhhh, I think I get your point now, Marks.” Wes’ lips skimmed across the edge of Travis’ ribcage, teasing, taunting. “Let this be a lesson to you in how you talk to a lady from here on out.”
“Anything you say, baby. I promise to be more considerate in the future.” It was a good thing he was handcuffed to the headboard at the moment, too, because he had no intentions of being anything near considerate as soon as he could get his hands on his lover. Matter of fact, he had every inclination to flip Wes onto his knees and fuck him silly. That was going to have to wait, however, because blondie was moving away from him again. “No, don’t leave me, not again.”
Wes slid off the side of the bed and turned an amused grin on his partner. “Aw, whatsa matter baby? Afraid I’m going to leave you hanging?” He chuckled and disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, reemerging a few seconds later. “Don’t worry, I only went for supplies.”
Seeing the familiar tube in Wes’ hands, Travis heaved a relieved sigh. “Oh thank god, baby. Not sure how much more of this I can take.” Moving back into position, Wes smirked at whatever he saw. “Something funny, buttercup?”
“No,” Wes lied, placing a chaste kiss on Travis’ mouth. “Nothing funny at all.”
To prove his point, he squeezed a measure of lube into his hand before dumping the tube onto the nightstand beside his bed. Gripping Travis’ cock in his hand, he smoothed the cool gel along his length, covering every last inch of delicious skin. “Oh god, Wes if you don’t stop –”
His words were lost in a gasp of satisfaction. Wes eased himself back onto his lover’s cock, taking him in slowly. If Travis had been able to form coherent thoughts at that moment, he’d have sworn Wes was trying to kill him, torturing him by moving at such a leisurely pace. Since he couldn’t think clearly, however, he instead lifted his hips, forcing himself deeper into his lover.
Wes fell forward, chuckling. “Mmm, so you like that, huh?” Placing both hands on Travis’ broad chest, he raised his own hips and regained control of the situation, rocking backwards and pulling forwards at his own tempo. “I bet you wish you could touch me right now, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do, you evil little bitch,” he growled. “You know I love it when you get all aggressive on me.”
That sexy little laugh that met his ears was almost his undoing. “Oh, so I’m a little bitch now, huh?” Wes allowed all but the head of Travis’ cock to slip out, working the very tip back and forth, just enough to make Travis want to cry. “Any other choice words you have for me?”
“You don’t like being treated like a helpless woman,” he grunted, “so why not a horny bitch?” He knew the words were wrong, and he’d never in a million years say them to anyone, ever, but for some reason, they felt right in this moment. “A gorgeous, mouthy, horny bitch. Scratch that,” he panted, “make that my gorgeous, horny bitch.”
Apparently, those were the right words because Wes thrust back, forcing Travis’ cock fully into him. Blondie rode him roughly, bent forward, face inches from his chest. Face flushed, Wes looked up and met Travis’ appreciative gaze. “You make me crazy, you son of a bitch.”
Travis laughed, reaching forward, silently begging for a kiss. Wes pressed his mouth against his, brief and passionate, before he pulled away. “And you’re going to be the death of me, baby. But ah, god, what a happy death it’ll be.”
Wes fastened his mouth onto Travis’ again, smearing hot pink against his chocolaty skin. If he could only get his hands on the little blond, he’d be so much happier, but complaining wasn’t something he was about to do.
Releasing Travis’ mouth, Wes said, “You were wrong, you know.”
“About what,” he muttered.
“About me needing a man. I don’t need a man, I need this man.”
“Fuck yeah, you do,” Travis cried, hips curving into Wes’, flesh smacking flesh. “And I need you right… there… yeah, baby.”
Their mouths met again, hungry and eager. Wes sucked at Travis’ lips while working his cock with his body. A strangled cry was the only warning Travis could give him before losing the last bits of control he still owned. If only he had one damn free hand, he could take care of that issue of blondie’s still pressing so eagerly against his belly.
“Wes,” he moaned. “Baby…”
“Shhhh,” Wes cooed, pressing a finger to his lips. He rose up just enough to allow Travis’ deflated manhood to slide out of him and into the heated air between them. Leaning back, he took his own swollen cock into hand and began stroking, slow and steady. “Just watch.”
Biting his lower lip, Travis did as he was told. He became fascinated by the way the muscles moved in Wes’ biceps as he gripped himself, fondling and giving pleasure. Those delicate fingers looked so much more tantalizing wrapped around his thick cock than they ever had on anything before. His hands gripped the slats in the headboard, squeezing until his knuckles were white from the strain.
“God help me, baby, but I think you and I are gonna have a long night ahead of us.” He hoped, prayed, so anyway. Never did he think that three good screws in a night wouldn’t be enough… and then he met his little Wesleigh, hiding inside that dour, peevish ol’ Detective Mitchell. If the rest of the world only knew – no, this was a secret he was keeping to himself. Forever. Wes can be the arrogant but effective jerk he was during the day just so long as he saved all this for him and him alone.
“Travis,” he whimpered, lipstick smudged. “You have no idea.”
“Tell me you’re close,” he begged, watching as his lover’s fist pumped the length of his cock. “Or let me out of these damn things so I can help you.”
Wes started to smile and grimaced instead. “So fucking close, Marks. And no way in hell am I letting you take over. You just sit – lay – there and behave.”
Travis’ eyelids fluttered closed, just for a second, he didn’t want to miss an instant of what was going on in front of him. Opening them, he focused on Wes and the motion of not just his hand, but his entire body, as it swayed with its own erratic rhythm. He was close, it was obvious in the way his head fell back, and his hips thrust forward. It was just a matter of time before –
Crying out, Wes’ hips jerked towards Travis, the fist that had been frantically working over his cock stilled, but continuing to grip tightly. Pearly essence squirted from the tip of his cock, landing in a scattered pattern across Travis’ abdomen. Shoulders hunched, a hand spread on each sweaty thigh, Wes breathed heavily. His mouth was open and his cheeks were tinted a pretty pink.
“You made a mess there sweetheart,” Travis observed, the thick, sticky remnants of his lover’s passion spattered across his coffee-colored skin.
A giggle escaped him suddenly, causing Travis to look up from his navel in alarm. “I guess I did,” he agreed, trailing a finger through his handiwork. “Don’t hear you complaining much, though.”
And he never would. He’d screwed up once already and having Wes’ affections withdrawn, even for a short period of time, was more than he could handle. They both knew Travis wasn’t perfect and that, more than likely, he’d screw up again, but at least he’d know what he had to lose this time. He treaded much more carefully these days.
“Naw, no complaints here. Well,” he rattled the handcuffs still holding him hostage, “aside from these.”
Chuckling, Wes shifted off of Travis’ body and clambered to the floor. “Be right back,” he muttered, disappearing into the restroom. When he returned, he carried a wet washcloth in one hand and a key in the other. “Which do you want first? To be clean or to be free?”
Travis bit his lip. He wanted to be free, goddamn it. But who knows what kind of hijinks Mitchell might get up to if he let him clean him off first. “Uh, your choice, blondie. Surprise me.”
A wicked grin teased the edge of Wes’ mouth. “You might be careful how you phrase that, I could go out for a late dinner and leave you here. That would be a surprise, no?”
“Oh god,” he laughed. “Please uncuff me then. I want to at least be able to chase you if you try and leave.”
The grin softened into a knowing smile. “You’ve got it. Let me wipe your belly off first…” He swished the warm, damp cloth against his stomach a couple times, removing most of the evidence left from their recent tryst. Tossing it onto the nightstand, he said, “All better. Now, those cuffs.”
Wes seated himself on the foot of the bed, slipping off one shoe and then the next, placing them in line next to Travis’ overly large Doc Martens. He’d bought them for Travis a month or so ago despite his protests. Since he refused to wear dress shoes, Wes had conspired to get him something that was both comfortable and presentable. Pink heels and dark brown work boots, living side by side. It was a start.
Throwing one leg across his lover’s newly cleaned torso, Wes bent and worked the key in the left cuff, then the right, releasing his partner from his restraints. Travis’ arms fell heavily to his sides, followed by a heavy sigh. “God that feels good,” he grumbled, only slightly peeved at the numbness creeping into his limbs.
“Shouldn’t have left you locked up so long,” Wes confessed, “but you pissed me off with that little woman comment.”
“I know, I know,” he said, rubbing the circulation back into his biceps. “I said I was sorry, baby.”
“I know you are,” he conceded, rolling to his side on the mattress next to Travis. “Never said I was still angry. Why don’t you go wash the lipstick off you and come back to bed.”
“Lipstick?” It came out as a question, but the answer dawned on him almost immediately. Pushing to a sitting position, he looked down at his chest for the first time. Bright pink spots of color dotted his skin. He assumed there were more covering his face and neck, ones he couldn’t see at the moment. “You are awful,” he teased.
“Maybe. I didn’t mean to get it everywhere, but after I saw how the first one stood out against your skin, I couldn’t stop.”
Travis sketched the outline of one near his waist, thinking how right he was. “Maybe sometime later, you can give me one good one here,” he touched the one he’d been staring at, “or here,” he touched the center of his left pectoral, “and I can get it inked. I bet they could even match your lip color.”
“You’d do that?” Wes watched him as he rolled out of bed and headed towards the restroom.
“Yeah, actually, I think I would.” It hadn’t occurred to him until that second, but he knew he definitely would as soon as the words left his mouth. “And truthfully? I’m kinda partial to this color, too.”
“Glad to hear that, it’s my favorite.” Wes winked at him playfully. “Now go wipe that crap off your skin and get your ass back here.”
“Yes sir,” he teased, high-tailing it into the bathroom. Finding a spare washcloth on the sink, he began wiping the traces of his partner’s mischief from his body. The maid service in this place had to wonder just what the hell Mitchell got himself up to with all the makeup they must clean off his linens. Whatever. It’s what they got paid the big bucks for, right? To clean and not ask questions?
“You about done in there, Travis?” Wes lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. “If I sit here much longer, I might just fall asleep.”
“Oh hell no,” Travis called, popping out of the restroom. “We can’t let that happen, can we?”
Wes propped himself up on an elbow. “Not yet, we can’t.”
Grinning, Travis climbed into the empty spot beside his lover. “You wiped off all your makeup, why?” He gave Wes a lingering kiss, making sure he understood it didn’t matter that he had.
“You have any idea how badly I break out if I sleep in this crap,” he joked. “But seriously, I want you to be with me for a little while and not…”
“Baby,” Travis said, turning his chin so that they were face to face. “I’m always with you, dress or not. Got it? The only thing that changes when you put on something pretty is you somehow learn how to relax. Nothing else.”
Wes thought about that for a minute. “So the nickname…?”
Travis shrugged. “It’s just another in a long line of nicknames. Besides, it fits. And I can call you that in public and no one knows but us.”
“Us and my suddenly aching cock, right?” Wes grinned at him then.
“Right. And if it’s any consolation, just calling you Wesleigh has the same effect on me.” Travis held out his arms to Wes, silently asking him to come snuggle. “I promise never to call you that unless I’m trying to get into your pants.”
“You mean up my skirt, don’t you?” He could hear the teasing laughter in his words.
“Up your skirt, down your pants, hell, get you naked. It’s all the same in the end.” Not exactly because getting up his skirt was a hell of a lot kinkier than getting down his suit pants, although he was pretty certain both would be equally satisfying.
“So,” Wes hesitated, “if I suggested sex with just plain ol’ Wes, you’d be on board?”
Travis rubbed his already hardening cock against the blond’s thigh. “There’s nothing plain about you, Wes. Never was. And if you suggested it, I’d be all over it – and you – in about four seconds.” He pressed his lips against Wes’, sliding his tongue inside. Releasing his partner’s mouth, he smiled. “Are you suggesting or are you just trying to torment me?”
Wes licked his bottom lip, savoring the taste of Travis on his skin. “Both?”
“I can live with both.” He pushed Wes onto his back and smiled down at him. “You owe me dinner after this.”
“I already bought you dinner,” Wes complained. “I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman, Travis Marks.”
“Hey, you’re the one that left me handcuffed to the bed for an hour. I think I’m being real gentlemanly!”
“A gentleman wouldn’t make his lady pay for dinner the first time and definitely not the second time.”
“Oh shut up,” Travis laughed, stopping the blond’s protests with another kiss. “Let’s fight about this later. Right now, I just want to fuck you.”
“Gotta admit, I can’t argue with that,” Wes said, spreading his legs so Travis could crawl between them. “Now, remind me of why I keep you around.”
xx
You can find the entire Wes in a Dress series on AO3 here.
Fandom: Common Law
Pairing: Wes Mitchell/Travis Marks
Rating: NC-17 at least
Word Count: 3,510
Warnings: Crossdressing and smut ahead.
Summary: Travis' big mouth gets him into trouble - again - and Wes makes him pay.
Author’s Note: I wrote this back in uhhhh… April, and never posted it. So, since November has been a rather sucky posting month for me, I thought I’d finally get this out there so I don’t have a truly pathetic showing. Side note, if you’d like to know what Wes’ lipstick looks like, you can find it here. Oddly enough? I don’t wear makeup, but I love picking it out for Wesleigh.
If you're so inclined, you can find the video for the song here.
Wrists straining against the cuffs restraining him, Travis arched his neck as far forward as he could manage, searching. “Wes baby,” he called into the empty room, “where’d you go?”
“Not far.” The voice drifted to him from somewhere near the doorway.
As the body connected to the voice stepped into the bedroom, Travis saw a long swath of pale skin clad in nothing but a pair of hot pink high heels. It’d turned him on last night, seeing his lover in those heels and a short skirt, but nothing compared to seeing him in nothing but those damn heels.
“Wes, you’re killing me,” he moaned. “Come back to bed.”
“In a minute,” he promised, fingers whispering down the length of Travis’ bare chest. “Have to get something first.”
“Hurry,” he begged, unashamed of the raw need in his voice.
He listened as the footsteps moved away from where he lay chained and then returned. The bed dipped and Travis turned his head in the direction of the weight. He watched as Wes climbed onto the mattress and straddled his lap, leaning back and resting his perfect backside against his wide, muscular thighs. The heat of Wes’ bare skin seared him, igniting the passion within for the third time that night.
“I’m here, gorgeous,” he purred, leaning forward and placing a hand against Travis’ chest, fingers splayed against dark skin.
“I see that,” he panted, taking in every inch of flesh bared to his sight. “What did you go get?”
A smile crinkled the blond’s face. “This,” he said, holding up a single, silver tube.
“Lipstick,” Travis guessed, knowing full well that whatever Wes might have been wearing when he’d arrived six hours ago was long gone by this point. Everything but the heels, he reminded himself. Those had stayed put.
“Correct,” Wes announced, pointing the tube of lip color at him. Sliding the top off, he turned the bottom until a hint of bright pink peeked over the edge. Pursing his lips, Wes ran the color over his already pink lips, taking care to cover each millimeter of skin. “Hmmm, I need to… oh, never mind.”
Before Travis could ask, Wes bent his elbow and lowered himself until his lips touched the center of Travis’ chest. He looked down at the flawless imprint of his lover’s even more perfect mouth on his skin and groaned, cock aching. “Baby, please, let me out of these things.” He rattled the cuffs against the headboard for emphasis.
Wes returned to an upright position and shook his head. “After what you said to me earlier? I don’t think so, hero.”
Travis shifted beneath Wes’ weight. “I didn’t mean it, you know that. We were role playing, right? Just getting into character.”
“Hmm,” he stalled, trailing a finger along the ridges of Travis’ defined abs. “So you were playing the role of the asshole male, huh?”
“Yeah I – uh, no! Wes, come on.” He squirmed under the blond’s touch again, desperate for more. “You know I don’t think of you as fragile or feminine, not even when you’re wearing heels and carrying a purse.”
“No?” He squeezed a nipple between two fingers.
“No, he gasped. “Although… although I think you need pearls for that dress you had on earlier.” Fuck, he needed those pearls now. A simple string around his neck to accentuate the fact he wasn’t wearing a damn thing more than that.
“I like pearls,” he said, smiling again finally. “But I prefer black pearls and those wouldn’t match my dress.” He made a face and it took all Travis had not to laugh at how cute he was.
“You want me to get you another dress then?” He was only half joking. If it meant relieving the pressure currently building in his groin, he’d buy Wes a new dress, pearls and a new pair of shoes. “Or just the pearls, baby?”
“Just the pearls,” he breathed, lips caressing his check. “I have a nice variety of dresses, thanks to you.”
They both knew Wes wouldn’t dream of letting him even think of buying him jewelry, but it was fun to pretend. It was just another part of the game they played. Although, Wes did let him buy other things – dresses, flowers, toys – jewelry was off limits, mainly due to the disparity in their bank accounts. “I’ll get you whatever you want, baby, just let me touch you.”
“Not yet,” he said, pressing another kiss to the opposite side of his face, along the line of his strong jaw.
Wes lifted his hips, scooting forward, fitting the hard ridge of Travis’ cock between his ass cheeks. “Promise you don’t see me as the helpless girl in need of protecting?”
“Promise,” he swore. And it was true. Wes could handle himself in any situation, the man didn’t know what the world ‘vulnerable’ even meant. Not until he slipped into his alternate persona and even then, he was still utterly, completely in control.
“Maybe I can forgive you,” he teased, “but I’m not uncuffing you quite yet.”
“Why not,” he half-cried. “I apologized.”
“I know you did,” he agreed, kissing the bulge of his Adam’s apple and then the crest of his collarbone. “But you still suggested I was a helpless little girl who needed a man.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tried to explain again. “I just meant you needed a man, baby.”
“And how is that different from what I said?” He grazed the edges of his teeth along an erect nipple.
“I just meant you needed a man like I need you right now.” He lifted his hips, rubbing against Wes’ pert backside.
“Ahhhh, I think I get your point now, Marks.” Wes’ lips skimmed across the edge of Travis’ ribcage, teasing, taunting. “Let this be a lesson to you in how you talk to a lady from here on out.”
“Anything you say, baby. I promise to be more considerate in the future.” It was a good thing he was handcuffed to the headboard at the moment, too, because he had no intentions of being anything near considerate as soon as he could get his hands on his lover. Matter of fact, he had every inclination to flip Wes onto his knees and fuck him silly. That was going to have to wait, however, because blondie was moving away from him again. “No, don’t leave me, not again.”
Wes slid off the side of the bed and turned an amused grin on his partner. “Aw, whatsa matter baby? Afraid I’m going to leave you hanging?” He chuckled and disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, reemerging a few seconds later. “Don’t worry, I only went for supplies.”
Seeing the familiar tube in Wes’ hands, Travis heaved a relieved sigh. “Oh thank god, baby. Not sure how much more of this I can take.” Moving back into position, Wes smirked at whatever he saw. “Something funny, buttercup?”
“No,” Wes lied, placing a chaste kiss on Travis’ mouth. “Nothing funny at all.”
To prove his point, he squeezed a measure of lube into his hand before dumping the tube onto the nightstand beside his bed. Gripping Travis’ cock in his hand, he smoothed the cool gel along his length, covering every last inch of delicious skin. “Oh god, Wes if you don’t stop –”
His words were lost in a gasp of satisfaction. Wes eased himself back onto his lover’s cock, taking him in slowly. If Travis had been able to form coherent thoughts at that moment, he’d have sworn Wes was trying to kill him, torturing him by moving at such a leisurely pace. Since he couldn’t think clearly, however, he instead lifted his hips, forcing himself deeper into his lover.
Wes fell forward, chuckling. “Mmm, so you like that, huh?” Placing both hands on Travis’ broad chest, he raised his own hips and regained control of the situation, rocking backwards and pulling forwards at his own tempo. “I bet you wish you could touch me right now, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do, you evil little bitch,” he growled. “You know I love it when you get all aggressive on me.”
That sexy little laugh that met his ears was almost his undoing. “Oh, so I’m a little bitch now, huh?” Wes allowed all but the head of Travis’ cock to slip out, working the very tip back and forth, just enough to make Travis want to cry. “Any other choice words you have for me?”
“You don’t like being treated like a helpless woman,” he grunted, “so why not a horny bitch?” He knew the words were wrong, and he’d never in a million years say them to anyone, ever, but for some reason, they felt right in this moment. “A gorgeous, mouthy, horny bitch. Scratch that,” he panted, “make that my gorgeous, horny bitch.”
Apparently, those were the right words because Wes thrust back, forcing Travis’ cock fully into him. Blondie rode him roughly, bent forward, face inches from his chest. Face flushed, Wes looked up and met Travis’ appreciative gaze. “You make me crazy, you son of a bitch.”
Travis laughed, reaching forward, silently begging for a kiss. Wes pressed his mouth against his, brief and passionate, before he pulled away. “And you’re going to be the death of me, baby. But ah, god, what a happy death it’ll be.”
Wes fastened his mouth onto Travis’ again, smearing hot pink against his chocolaty skin. If he could only get his hands on the little blond, he’d be so much happier, but complaining wasn’t something he was about to do.
Releasing Travis’ mouth, Wes said, “You were wrong, you know.”
“About what,” he muttered.
“About me needing a man. I don’t need a man, I need this man.”
“Fuck yeah, you do,” Travis cried, hips curving into Wes’, flesh smacking flesh. “And I need you right… there… yeah, baby.”
Their mouths met again, hungry and eager. Wes sucked at Travis’ lips while working his cock with his body. A strangled cry was the only warning Travis could give him before losing the last bits of control he still owned. If only he had one damn free hand, he could take care of that issue of blondie’s still pressing so eagerly against his belly.
“Wes,” he moaned. “Baby…”
“Shhhh,” Wes cooed, pressing a finger to his lips. He rose up just enough to allow Travis’ deflated manhood to slide out of him and into the heated air between them. Leaning back, he took his own swollen cock into hand and began stroking, slow and steady. “Just watch.”
Biting his lower lip, Travis did as he was told. He became fascinated by the way the muscles moved in Wes’ biceps as he gripped himself, fondling and giving pleasure. Those delicate fingers looked so much more tantalizing wrapped around his thick cock than they ever had on anything before. His hands gripped the slats in the headboard, squeezing until his knuckles were white from the strain.
“God help me, baby, but I think you and I are gonna have a long night ahead of us.” He hoped, prayed, so anyway. Never did he think that three good screws in a night wouldn’t be enough… and then he met his little Wesleigh, hiding inside that dour, peevish ol’ Detective Mitchell. If the rest of the world only knew – no, this was a secret he was keeping to himself. Forever. Wes can be the arrogant but effective jerk he was during the day just so long as he saved all this for him and him alone.
“Travis,” he whimpered, lipstick smudged. “You have no idea.”
“Tell me you’re close,” he begged, watching as his lover’s fist pumped the length of his cock. “Or let me out of these damn things so I can help you.”
Wes started to smile and grimaced instead. “So fucking close, Marks. And no way in hell am I letting you take over. You just sit – lay – there and behave.”
Travis’ eyelids fluttered closed, just for a second, he didn’t want to miss an instant of what was going on in front of him. Opening them, he focused on Wes and the motion of not just his hand, but his entire body, as it swayed with its own erratic rhythm. He was close, it was obvious in the way his head fell back, and his hips thrust forward. It was just a matter of time before –
Crying out, Wes’ hips jerked towards Travis, the fist that had been frantically working over his cock stilled, but continuing to grip tightly. Pearly essence squirted from the tip of his cock, landing in a scattered pattern across Travis’ abdomen. Shoulders hunched, a hand spread on each sweaty thigh, Wes breathed heavily. His mouth was open and his cheeks were tinted a pretty pink.
“You made a mess there sweetheart,” Travis observed, the thick, sticky remnants of his lover’s passion spattered across his coffee-colored skin.
A giggle escaped him suddenly, causing Travis to look up from his navel in alarm. “I guess I did,” he agreed, trailing a finger through his handiwork. “Don’t hear you complaining much, though.”
And he never would. He’d screwed up once already and having Wes’ affections withdrawn, even for a short period of time, was more than he could handle. They both knew Travis wasn’t perfect and that, more than likely, he’d screw up again, but at least he’d know what he had to lose this time. He treaded much more carefully these days.
“Naw, no complaints here. Well,” he rattled the handcuffs still holding him hostage, “aside from these.”
Chuckling, Wes shifted off of Travis’ body and clambered to the floor. “Be right back,” he muttered, disappearing into the restroom. When he returned, he carried a wet washcloth in one hand and a key in the other. “Which do you want first? To be clean or to be free?”
Travis bit his lip. He wanted to be free, goddamn it. But who knows what kind of hijinks Mitchell might get up to if he let him clean him off first. “Uh, your choice, blondie. Surprise me.”
A wicked grin teased the edge of Wes’ mouth. “You might be careful how you phrase that, I could go out for a late dinner and leave you here. That would be a surprise, no?”
“Oh god,” he laughed. “Please uncuff me then. I want to at least be able to chase you if you try and leave.”
The grin softened into a knowing smile. “You’ve got it. Let me wipe your belly off first…” He swished the warm, damp cloth against his stomach a couple times, removing most of the evidence left from their recent tryst. Tossing it onto the nightstand, he said, “All better. Now, those cuffs.”
Wes seated himself on the foot of the bed, slipping off one shoe and then the next, placing them in line next to Travis’ overly large Doc Martens. He’d bought them for Travis a month or so ago despite his protests. Since he refused to wear dress shoes, Wes had conspired to get him something that was both comfortable and presentable. Pink heels and dark brown work boots, living side by side. It was a start.
Throwing one leg across his lover’s newly cleaned torso, Wes bent and worked the key in the left cuff, then the right, releasing his partner from his restraints. Travis’ arms fell heavily to his sides, followed by a heavy sigh. “God that feels good,” he grumbled, only slightly peeved at the numbness creeping into his limbs.
“Shouldn’t have left you locked up so long,” Wes confessed, “but you pissed me off with that little woman comment.”
“I know, I know,” he said, rubbing the circulation back into his biceps. “I said I was sorry, baby.”
“I know you are,” he conceded, rolling to his side on the mattress next to Travis. “Never said I was still angry. Why don’t you go wash the lipstick off you and come back to bed.”
“Lipstick?” It came out as a question, but the answer dawned on him almost immediately. Pushing to a sitting position, he looked down at his chest for the first time. Bright pink spots of color dotted his skin. He assumed there were more covering his face and neck, ones he couldn’t see at the moment. “You are awful,” he teased.
“Maybe. I didn’t mean to get it everywhere, but after I saw how the first one stood out against your skin, I couldn’t stop.”
Travis sketched the outline of one near his waist, thinking how right he was. “Maybe sometime later, you can give me one good one here,” he touched the one he’d been staring at, “or here,” he touched the center of his left pectoral, “and I can get it inked. I bet they could even match your lip color.”
“You’d do that?” Wes watched him as he rolled out of bed and headed towards the restroom.
“Yeah, actually, I think I would.” It hadn’t occurred to him until that second, but he knew he definitely would as soon as the words left his mouth. “And truthfully? I’m kinda partial to this color, too.”
“Glad to hear that, it’s my favorite.” Wes winked at him playfully. “Now go wipe that crap off your skin and get your ass back here.”
“Yes sir,” he teased, high-tailing it into the bathroom. Finding a spare washcloth on the sink, he began wiping the traces of his partner’s mischief from his body. The maid service in this place had to wonder just what the hell Mitchell got himself up to with all the makeup they must clean off his linens. Whatever. It’s what they got paid the big bucks for, right? To clean and not ask questions?
“You about done in there, Travis?” Wes lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. “If I sit here much longer, I might just fall asleep.”
“Oh hell no,” Travis called, popping out of the restroom. “We can’t let that happen, can we?”
Wes propped himself up on an elbow. “Not yet, we can’t.”
Grinning, Travis climbed into the empty spot beside his lover. “You wiped off all your makeup, why?” He gave Wes a lingering kiss, making sure he understood it didn’t matter that he had.
“You have any idea how badly I break out if I sleep in this crap,” he joked. “But seriously, I want you to be with me for a little while and not…”
“Baby,” Travis said, turning his chin so that they were face to face. “I’m always with you, dress or not. Got it? The only thing that changes when you put on something pretty is you somehow learn how to relax. Nothing else.”
Wes thought about that for a minute. “So the nickname…?”
Travis shrugged. “It’s just another in a long line of nicknames. Besides, it fits. And I can call you that in public and no one knows but us.”
“Us and my suddenly aching cock, right?” Wes grinned at him then.
“Right. And if it’s any consolation, just calling you Wesleigh has the same effect on me.” Travis held out his arms to Wes, silently asking him to come snuggle. “I promise never to call you that unless I’m trying to get into your pants.”
“You mean up my skirt, don’t you?” He could hear the teasing laughter in his words.
“Up your skirt, down your pants, hell, get you naked. It’s all the same in the end.” Not exactly because getting up his skirt was a hell of a lot kinkier than getting down his suit pants, although he was pretty certain both would be equally satisfying.
“So,” Wes hesitated, “if I suggested sex with just plain ol’ Wes, you’d be on board?”
Travis rubbed his already hardening cock against the blond’s thigh. “There’s nothing plain about you, Wes. Never was. And if you suggested it, I’d be all over it – and you – in about four seconds.” He pressed his lips against Wes’, sliding his tongue inside. Releasing his partner’s mouth, he smiled. “Are you suggesting or are you just trying to torment me?”
Wes licked his bottom lip, savoring the taste of Travis on his skin. “Both?”
“I can live with both.” He pushed Wes onto his back and smiled down at him. “You owe me dinner after this.”
“I already bought you dinner,” Wes complained. “I thought you were supposed to be a gentleman, Travis Marks.”
“Hey, you’re the one that left me handcuffed to the bed for an hour. I think I’m being real gentlemanly!”
“A gentleman wouldn’t make his lady pay for dinner the first time and definitely not the second time.”
“Oh shut up,” Travis laughed, stopping the blond’s protests with another kiss. “Let’s fight about this later. Right now, I just want to fuck you.”
“Gotta admit, I can’t argue with that,” Wes said, spreading his legs so Travis could crawl between them. “Now, remind me of why I keep you around.”
xx
You can find the entire Wes in a Dress series on AO3 here.
