Title: With Gentle Sway

With Gentle Sway
by GoldSea

Nick stood in the tiny shower, warm water washing over him, and felt the first stirrings of fear. It was time, and past time for him to do this. He just hoped...everything would work out ok. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he stepped out of the shower and headed off to finish his preparations for the night ahead.

He pulled on a pair of slacks and a clean polo shirt from his closet, and tried his best to ignore the little voice in his head that was alternately snickering at him and telling him he was the world's biggest idiot.

Nick heard Murray leaving for his Thursday Night Computer User group, and waited nervously for enough time to have passed for him to leave the boat unseen. He hadn't told Murray anything about plans for the evening, and he didn't want to have to make up a story about where he'd been, should the younger man see him leaving.

***

Thank God it's Thursday. On Thursdays, I can indulge my one secret vice, my shameful little secret. I can drop the masks, or put on new ones, and nobody gives a damn if I'm strange---because there's always someone stranger.

There's a lovely little club in Redondo Beach where nobody knows my name, but everyone knows my passion.

I reach into the back of my closet and pull out the blue duffle bag that I keep hidden there. Placing it on the bed, I have a moment of indecision. No, I want this. I need this. I check to make sure the door is locked, since Nick's still here, and remove all of my clothing, slowly. Pocket protector goes on the desk, along with the slide rule. I take my time. When I'm finally ready, I reach into the bag for two items, and put them next to me as I stretch out on the bunk. I run my hands over my body, thinking of other times and places. When I've exhausted the fun of that, I reach over for the first of the two pieces from the bag: a short-handled flogger with dozens of soft leather straps. I run it slowly from the top of my forehead all the way down as far as I can reach, and back up again, purposely detouring, purposely teasing myself.

Oh, but it feels good. I can almost imagine someone else doing this to me; almost imagine that I'm not all alone in my tiny bedroom. It's been too long since I've had a lover---and even longer since I've had one I felt comfortable enough with to share my...well, kink. The leather straps dangle randomly across my skin, almost pulling a gasp from me. My free hand trails downwards and I give myself a couple of quick pulls to make sure I'm as hard as I can get. Yes.

Dropping the flogger, I reach for the other item from the bag. The cock ring goes around the base of my shaft and testicles, and pulls tight. The leather sheath I buckle as tight as it will go around the shaft, leaving only the last couple of inches and the head exposed. I pick the flogger back up and dangle the ends right over the tip for as long as I can stand---about three seconds. I twitch and feel a lovely almost-ache, right there. God, I'm wound up tight tonight.

As twitchy as I am tonight, I wonder if maybe I shouldn't wait to Dom anyone until after I've found one of the folks there to beat some of the tension out of me. I think about a few good swats with a riding crop, right between the shoulder blades, and the thought alone is enough to trigger an endorphin rush. *Mmm. Imagine what the act would do.* One of the nicer things about my brain---my daydreams are really vivid. It doesn't make up for the loneliness, but it's at least a nice consolation prize.

I pack the flogger back in the bag, along with a pair of black leather trousers that I had made for me in my wealthier days, and my favorite soft blue silk shirt.

My bag packed, I turn to the dresser to pull out a pair of black silk boxers. God, I love silk. The sliding whisper of it across my skin, the fluttering edges a drumbeat of teasing sensation. As I settle them into place on my hips, my blood begins to rush. The first hint of teasing friction on the head of my cock does interesting things to my thought processes. It seems almost a shame to get dressed in my usual clothes again, but I do, moving quickly now that I've decided to do this yet again. Sometimes I wonder if this couldn't be classified as an addiction---like some kind of drug. But really, I can't much see the harm, and it really does seem to help in a lot of ways. Besides, I don't seem to be able to resist it.

The armor of normality in place, I pick up my bag and head out. I'm already turned on enough tonight that I find myself very carefully keeping the bag at hip height, between Nick and myself. He thinks I'm going to a Computer User group, and he knows I love computers, but I don't want him thinking I *love* computers.

***

Nick's hands shook faintly as he entered the darkened club. *God,* he thought, *I don't think I'm ready for this…* The insistent throb of the music wasn't loud enough to drown out the noise made by the patrons inside, and he forced himself to take another step into the room. *Come on, man, you're blocking the doorway.* A loud thwap!, followed by an agonized cry off to his left startled him. His hand twitched towards his (not present) gun, before his brain kicked in. He chuckled nervously as the cry trailed off into a moan. Nick started to explore the space, trying desperately hard not to stare at any one tableau for too long. He felt like an intruder in this sanctum. But oh, what a curious relief accompanied his embarrassment.

Nick had heard about this place weeks ago. It was a private little dungeon in the heart of Redondo Beach that held open-to-the-public events on Thursdays. It had taken him this long to muster the courage up to visit, and to find an opportunity. But he had realized earlier this morning that with Cody off visiting his mom for the week, and Murray attending that discussion group or whatever it was that kept him out on Thursdays, he would have the perfect opportunity to come check this place out without having to answer awkward questions from his friends.

Now all he had to do was keep himself from running out of the door, and pray that he didn't get spotted by someone he knew leaving a BDSM club. He went up to the bar to grab a soda, so he would have something to do with his hands.

God, this place was straight out of his nightmares. *No, be fair, * he told himself with a rueful smirk. *This place is straight out of my really good nightmares.* Nick had laughed the first time he became aware that there were people in the world that got off on pain- --but something had sparked within him, something that he had hastily repressed. Some time later, he had been browsing in an old used bookstore when he came across a copy of a book called "The Story of O." He'd tried to laugh it off to himself and had put the book back on the shelf. Two steps outside of the shop's front door, he had turned around and hurried back into the shop to pick the book up, take it to the front counter, and buy it, blushing furiously the entire time. He'd headed straight home with the evidence of his insanity securely hidden under his jacket, and spent the entire rainy afternoon and almost all of that night curled up in his room, reading it. It had blown his mind in a number of different ways. Over the years, he had collected other pieces of BDSM erotica, and devoured them---but it had taken some long hard soul searching on his part for him to let himself go looking for what he really wanted.

*Yep, big tough Vietnam vet chopper pilot Nick Ryder is a pervert. Who woulda thunk it?* His amusement was quickly dampened by the thought of his friends. *Maybe coming to a place this close isn't such a great idea. If Cody and Murray were to find out…* Well, he didn't think it would be received well. Cody was way too…*straight? Vanilla? I love him like a brother, and in a pinch, I could even probably tell him about this and it'd eventually be okay, but that would be massively weird.* And as for Murray, the man was a total innocent. If you asked Murray what S&M was, he would probably think it was a supermarket. *Murray may be a genius, but sex, especially kinky sex, is something he knows absolutely nothing about.*

There was a decent-sized crowd gathered in one corner observing a scene, and Nick wandered over to see what they were looking at. *Mmm. Nice boxers. Nice contents, for that matter.* The sub was spread-eagled vertically, his wrists and ankles chained tightly to the corners of a steel frame. He was wearing black boxers that appeared to be silk, and nothing else. While Nick could tell that the bound man was reasonably tall, he was obviously stretched almost to his limits by the restraints. He was practically on tiptoe, and was anything but a moving target for the Dom, who was laying into him with a good-sized flogger.

He had obviously been hanging there for a while. His back was red and flushed, his short dark hair a mess, and from the moans he made as each stroke fell, he was obviously pretty far gone. Nick watched as the Dom laid in several more strokes, but the sub's energy seemed to be flagging. Just as he was turning to walk away, the rhythmic thuds stopped. Nick turned back to see if the Dom would be taking the smaller man out of his restraints—and was stopped dead in his tracks by the unholy shriek that the sub let out. Conversation in that section of the club died out as everyone turned to see what had freaked the poor man out so badly. When Nick realized what it was, he barely kept himself from laughing at the poor man's plight. The Dom had pulled out a single black ostrich feather and was running it slowly over the bright red skin of his sub's lower back. The restrained man twisted and bucked as much as his overextended position would allow, but to no avail. On the flogger-warmed, hypersensitive, and overly stimulated skin there, it must have felt like a series of electric shocks.

"OhgodnopleasenopleasepleasefuckohgodohgodnononoPLEASE!"

*Wow, subspace to screaming hysteria in under 30 seconds.* Impressive. Nick couldn't have torn his eyes away for anything. That desperate plea had kindled a liquid warmth in his belly, and he wanted more. The bound man's reactions were just too priceless. Besides, he was awfully cute, and his top was…hmm, vicious.

Nick wasn't sure which one of them he should envy. He oh-so-casually put his hands in his pockets, and tried to pretend that he wasn't doing it to stop them from shaking.

The Dom, having achieved the effect he was going for, smiled at this last desperate plea, and ran one large hand over the tormented area, as if to soothe it. He dropped a kiss in passing on the back of the bound man's neck, and murmured something in his ear. The sub visibly shook himself, and replied quietly. With a smile, the Dom stepped back and drew the flogger back to renew his assault on his victim.

Nick's attention was fully caught. *I think he just asked for more. Kid's tougher than he looks.* Okay, so the sub was a little more slender than he usually liked them—still, he was nicely put together, and his ass was damn near edible. Nick knew he could be attracted to guys, but he hadn't really done much about it before---but this whole scene was just too sensual to pass up. He had a beautiful voice, and oh, did he beg sweetly. Every moan seemed to go straight to Nick's cock. And he was very responsive…

There was an area of the floor on the other side of the frame, and Nick moved towards it, casually. He wanted to see the poor young man's face as his torment continued. God, he was glad he had snuck out tonight!

The view from in front was nice. Not amazing, but definitely pleasing. Long, elegant feet leading up to slightly-too-thin legs, slender hips, and an extremely impressive bulge in the front of the boxers. * I wonder if that's all him, or if he's wearing some sort of toy under those boxers.* Speculation of the possibilities kept him happily busy for a few seconds.

Nick had picked a shadowed spot to observe from, several feet back, and felt confident enough in his anonymity to stare for a little while. *Young. Definitely young. Certainly legal, but I'd say late twenties to early thirties at the oldest.* The curve of the sub's almost painfully arched torso was incredibly inviting, and Nick entertained fantasies of running his hands over the taut flesh stretched out in front of him like an offering. He winced slightly, and tried to readjust himself as discreetly as possible, without taking his eyes off the lovely little feast laid out before him.

There was a graceful curve to his neck, and the lighting from above picked out golden tones in the unruly fall of dark brown hair. *Come on, Gorgeous,* Nick thought, *look at me.*

Another stroke landed and Nick got his wish. The sub raised his head swiftly in reaction, and Nick found himself looking at the face of one of Michelangelo's angels. His wide, sensual lips were parted in a gasp of pure ecstasy. His eyes were huge, dark, and expressive, and the expression in them faltered between terror, bliss, and total surrender, all within the space of a couple of heartbeats. It was a face that on the street might not seem very noticeable, but the incandescent bliss in the sub's expression transformed him into an exquisite creature.

Something about this helpless sub stirred him deeply. Something vulnerable about the man tied before him made Nick want to take him home, whip him senseless, listen to him beg in that scaldingly hot voice, and then fuck him into a blissful unconsciousness.

*Wow,* thought Nick. He had never responded so strongly to anything else in his life. He was finally here. He'd finally allowed himself to do something about living his fantasies---and already the reality was better than he had imagined. *God, he is hot.* Just then, the sub started moaning again, and it took all of Nick's self-control not to moan along with him.
.
Just then, the sub turned his head slightly away from Nick, and his profile triggered the Clue Fairy's arrival, complete with lead pipe. *That…*

*Holy fuck. That's Murray. *

Murray. As in Bozinsky. As in the most innocent, socially inept vanilla-and-so-beyond-vanilla-that-not-even-vanilla-beans-were-added human being Nick had ever known. Chained up in a public BDSM club, lost in ecstasy while a big burly guy in leather beat the ever-loving hell out of him for the enjoyment and arousal of a crowd of onlookers. *Including yours truly.*

***

Thank God for overly perceptive dominants, that's all I have to say. I hadn't been wandering around the club for 15 minutes when Bear walked up and asked me if I felt like playing tonight. He told me he was in a topping mood, and had a new riding crop to try out---and was I interested?

Hell, yes I was.

So here I hang, stretched to my limits and stripped to my boxers, in a total ecstasy of pain and pleasure. That lovely new crop of his worked out wonderful amounts of the tension in my neck and shoulders-- -amazing how knotted up you can get, sitting in front of a computer screen for hours. I'm warm and relaxed, and between the flogger slapping into me, the leather holding my cock tightly, and the silk whispering sweet and evil things along sensitive portions of my anatomy, I'm in a place where I don't have to think, I don't have to fear, I just exist. Someone's making some really undignified noises and I'm pretty sure it's me. But the high is starting to fade a little and I let it go, regretfully.

Then that bastard brings out the feather. Jerk. Bear has always been good at knowing just when someone needs a complete change to knock them back into subspace. I can hear myself screaming---no, shrieking like a little girl. *Why, yes, yes I am a geek. How can you tell?* When that sadistic twerp decides I've had enough, I feel a cool hand soothing my lower back. Mmm. He could do that for the rest of the night, as far as I'm concerned. God, it's been a long time since I've been touched.

He leans in to check on me. "How you holding up?"

"Fine," I say, around the dryness in my throat. "How's your arm?"

"Doing good," he replies. "Want some more?"

"Please." I do. I'm insatiable tonight and I know it. At least most of the tension is gone. By the time his arm wears out, I'll still be wanting more---but I won't be desperate anymore and that's
good.

The blows start to fall again, and that sweet electric warmth flows through me. I surrender myself to the sheer sensation. A particularly sharp hit startles my head up, and my eyes open.

We're over near a wall, and most of the watchers are concentrated behind me where they can watch Bear work me over. Maybe that's why I see him so quickly.

Nick. Watching me. *What the hell is he doing here?*

He seems not to have recognized me---but the way he's staring, it probably won't be long now. I flush as I watch his gaze travel up my body, slowly, pausing just where you'd imagine.

My fantasies have apparently taken an odd turn this evening, because I absolutely refuse to believe that Nick Ryder is standing in a BDSM club, checking out my package and completely not recognizing me, while I'm being flogged.

*Nope, the Great Bozinsky Brain has gone on a little surreal fantasy vacation, that's all.* I allow my eyes to shut. Phantom-Nick will have disappeared by the time I open them again, and I won't have to deal with my overactive imagination tossing my roommates into my sexual fantasies.

But when I open them, he's still there---and now there's recognition in his eyes. And something else---lust. Need. Hunger. And he's staring right at me. Like he's a starving man, and I'm dessert.

Dear God, his eyes are hitting me harder than the flogger ever could.

More? Please?

***

Nick forced himself not to bolt. Murray didn't have his glasses on, and Nick knew just how nearsighted his friend was. He was safe in the shadows.

*So, what's more frightening,* he asked himself. *The fact that Murray is apparently somewhat into this…* another impassioned moan from the bound man underscored his thought and sent a warm jolt straight to Nick's groin…*okay, _very_ into this, or the fact that I'm finding one of my best friends eminently fuckable?*

The flogger was smacking into the slender man's flesh at a higher rate of speed, and Nick stopped thinking rationally. Murray looked so on edge...so aroused...so helplessly *sexy*, that all Nick could do was stand trembling, rooted to the spot. Foolishness or no, he wanted Murray looking him right in the eyes. His cock seemed to throb in time to the flogger's blows, and he couldn't stop staring at the scene in front of him.

The increased intensity of his torment caused Murray to start babbling that same litany of prayers and curses which had affected Nick so strongly before. It picked up speed and variety as the blows landed faster and faster, and Nick's breathing and heart rate sped up with it. He tried to tell himself that it was just surprise at hearing Murray use that kind of language that held him there, but he knew better.

*He looks like he's close to coming,* thought Nick. Murray's face was rapt, his eyes closed and his cheeks flushed. All traces of that vast self-doubting intellect were gone, replaced with sheer, transcendent pleasure. *My God, he really is beautiful like that.*

Murray cried out sharply and the flogger stopped its rhythmic abuse of the slender man. Nick realized that he was shaking harder than Murray was. Murray slumped in his bonds as far as was possible, and Nick realized that the scene was over. Nick barely managed to suppress a moan of disappointment.

As the Dom walked over to release Murray, Nick hurried away. It was time to move on before Murray got his glasses back and started looking around to see just who had been staring so raptly at him. *Wouldn't that be an interesting surprise for him? I wonder which one of us would freak worse?* Besides, he needed to get a bit of air and clear the confusion from his mind.

Nick fled for his life, before the Boz could spot him.

He made it out to the parking lot unseen. At least, he hoped so. His dick was so hard that it was almost agonizing to climb into the driver's seat of his car. Looking around the lot, he was relieved to find it deserted and relatively dark. Desperate and shaking with need, he undid his pants and reached in to free his trapped erection. It took him almost no time at all to bring himself to a massive climax---once he gave in and allowed himself to fantasize about a familiar tenor voice begging him for mercy. Afterwards, he sat in the darkened car for a long time, limp, shaken, and badly confused. *Now what the hell do I do?*

**

The Riptide was dark and silent when Nick got home, and for some reason he couldn't name, he felt compelled to turn on all of the lights. Well, almost all of the lights. The ones in the forward stateroom he left off. He couldn't bring himself to enter Murray's domain, not even for a second. He was still a little dizzy from the force of his earlier climax, and he hoped Murray would stay away a little longer. Nick knew his self-control was shot all to hell, and even after having come the vaguest thought about his quiet little friend was still enough to make his cock twitch and harden. He didn't even want to consider what would happen if he found himself face-to-face with the unexpected and unsuspecting cause of his arousal. He made a pot of coffee and poured himself a cup, and sat down at the table in the main salon to think things through.

*You know, I went to that club expecting to get my mind blown, but that's not quite what I had expected,* he thought. *I mean…God. Murray is one of my best friends. Before tonight, I would have thought he was almost totally innocent. I know he's not a virgin, but I never really thought about him like that.*

*Of course not...I mean, it's Murray! Coming on to him would...It'd be like taking advantage of him, or something.*

*Why? Because he's innocent? He's a quiet, awkward, friendly, geeky little guy?*

*He didn't look terribly innocent at the club tonight---hanging there, stretched out and helpless, taut with need and begging for more. That wasn't loneliness, or a whim, or something, either---he was blatantly there because that was exactly what sweet little, innocent little, vanilla little Murray wanted done to him. You do not accidentally end up on display in a public club like that. You don't ask for more, for God's sake, without meaning to. Therefore, he's not that innocent. Angelic, yes. Surprisingly fuckable, sure. But innocent?*

Footsteps on the deck stilled Nick's argument with himself.

*Oh, God. Surprisingly fuckable, and home early. Mary, Mother of God, give me strength.*

The object of his current obsessions walked into the main salon. Murray himself, geeked out as ever, in the pale plaid shirt, jeans, and brown corduroy jacket he'd left the boat wearing. His black- framed glasses were back in place, and his hair was neatly combed. There wasn't a single sign that he'd been doing anything other than sitting around in a room with a bunch of other geeks, discussing microchips and whatever. *Did I imagine the whole thing?*

"Hey, Nick."

Nick had to swallow twice before he could choke out a casual sounding, "Hey, Murray." He crossed his legs uncomfortably. *Dammit, I thought I took care of that.*

"Is that coffee I smell? Mind if I have a cup?"

"Um, yeah...help yourself."

"Thanks." Murray put his duffel bag down by the door, and went in the galley to pour himself a cup. Nick could hear him moving around in the kitchen, and obeying an impulse he couldn't quite understand, Nick stood and walked into the galley past Murray, who was busy adulterating his coffee to taste.

"So, how was your user group?" he asked casually, leaning against the sink.

"Pretty good. Same old stuff, really, but fun." Murray said with a slight smile. Nick couldn't help taking a casual glance as Murray started to turn towards him. *He hasn't come yet. Or he's hard again. Or he's still wearing whatever toy he had on at the club. Or all of the above.* The bulge in the younger man's slacks was less noticeable than it had been when he was chained and clad only in boxers, but it was still there. A jolt of arousal went straight to Nick's groin, and it took every last bit of self-control he had to raise his eyes up to Murray's face before the Boz noticed his fixation.

"So, Nick, how was your evening? Do anything interesting?" Murray's eyes were wide and innocent, and he was smiling, faintly.

"Nah, just stayed home and read a book." Nick tried to smile back. He could feel himself beginning to blush, and he hoped the smaller man didn't notice. *Holy shit, how could I have missed just how sexy his smile is?*

"You all right, Nick?" Murray asked with concern. "You look a little flushed. Something you want to talk about?"

Nick felt trapped. His heartbeat sped up. No, he couldn't know anything, he wasn't wearing his glasses…"Um, I, ah…"

Murray closed his eyes for a brief second, and then opened them and looked straight at Nick. "This might be a mistake on my part, but let me make things a little easier here." He reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a small oval plastic case, which he set carefully on the counter.

*A plastic case,* thought Nick. The kind contact lenses were kept in… *Oh, fuck.* He looked up at his friend, who stood blocking his exit from the galley, casually awaiting his response.

"So, Nick," asked Murray, his wide brown eyes reflecting galaxies of meaning, "Was there something you wanted to ask me about?"

"I…ah...ohshit." Nick was beyond shock. *He doesn't…he didn't…*

The way Murray was smiling, oh yes he did.

"You saw me there," said Nick, flatly.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't you?" Murray asked quietly, still smiling that infuriating little smile that went straight to Nick's spine.

"Um." Nick swallowed hard and tried to will himself to breathe. Oh, this could be bad. "I didn't…follow you or anything. I was...I was there on my own. I, I, I hope I didn't….that is I…" *I'm babbling. Oh, God am I babbling.*

Murray placed a gentle hand on Nick's forearm. "It's okay, Nick." The look he gave the older man over the rims of his glasses was warm and reassuring. "It's all right."

The warm, self-assured whisper of Murray's voice sent chills through him, and lowered his guard in a single swift stroke.

"You were…beautiful, Murray." *I think that was my outer voice. Ohshitohshitohshit.*

Murray made a noise that sounded like a cross between a gasp and a laugh. "Thank you." Nick noticed that Boz was starting to blush a little himself. *Good, at least I'm not the only one.* Neither man moved for a long second.

Nick felt as if he had turned to stone. He was incredibly aware of Murray's hand resting lightly on his forearm, as if the younger man was unable to move, even for a second.

"Look, I…Murray, I'm really new to all of this. I've read a few books, but I've never really…Can I ask you a few questions?" Maybe talking would give him a chance to cool down a little. Something had to, because he was seconds away from ripping Murray's clothes off and taking him on the galley floor.

"Sure Nick, no problem." Murray grinned. "Hey, for once I get to give *you* advice, and it's not about computers!" They both laughed, the tension between them at least momentarily broken.

"Let's take the boat out into the harbor a bit, so we can talk uninterrupted. With our luck, a client would show up, or Dooley would come over to harass us." Nick said. *Wow, I got out two complete sentences without stammering, blushing, spilling coffee all over Murray, or throwing him up against the sink and kissing him senseless. Good Nick.*

"Good idea," replied Murray. Nick leaned in to set his coffee cup on the counter behind Murray, as Murray turned to do the exact same thing with his. They both looked up in surprise to find themselves bare inches away from each other.

Nick didn't even have a second to register shock, as he found himself grabbing Murray's waist and tugging. Murray, for his part, was already in motion, one hand going up to cup the back of Nick's head, and the other encircling Nick's hips.

Their lips met, and Nick found himself thinking, *Murray tastes like orange juice.* Murray had entwined one hand in his hair, and was pulling on it almost painfully. Nick found to his amusement that just as he feared he had thrown Murray up against the sink, the better to press against every inch of him.

Nick ran his hands down Murray's back to cup his ass, and drew the slender man in closer so he could grind his hips against that beautifully insistent bulge in Murray's pants that he'd been staring at earlier. Murray's back arched and Nick heard him moan quietly. As the kiss went on, both men relaxed into it. Murray gently disentangled his hand from Nick's hair, and softly stroked the back of his head, as if in apology. Nick carefully loosened his hold without breaking the kiss. Murray's lips, so demanding at first, softened and gentled under Nick's. *Mmm. So soft. So...wow.*

When they finally broke for air, the two stared at each other in silent wonder for just a moment.

"Wow," said Nick, softly.

"Boss," said Boz, a goofy grin starting. Nick couldn't help but laugh. *Yep, still Murray. No pod people here. Thank God, he's still in there.*

Murray ducked his head, a rueful smile on his face. He looked a little poleaxed by what had just happened. Nick couldn't blame him--- he felt the way Murray looked.

"Definitely time to take the boat out. I…oh, God. You okay?" Nick examined Murray's face carefully before releasing his grip on the slender man.

Murray took a deep breath and replied, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

Nick nodded. "How about I go move the boat, you grab the coffee, and I'll meet you on deck?"

"Works. See you on deck."

***

I kissed him. I. Kissed. Nick. Ryder.

He was just so close to me when I turned to put my coffee down, and those ice blue eyes felt like they were staring into my very soul. I'd actually made him stammer. His cologne was committing indecencies on the pleasure center of my brain, and I all of a sudden couldn't control the urge to find out if he tasted as good as he sounded, smelled, and looked.

He didn't.

He tasted so much better that I think I went a little nuts. I latched onto him as if I was drowning, and ground my hips into his. I nearly freaked when he reciprocated and I felt that hard bulge grinding into my hip. Warmth on my hands, velvet soft and yielding on my lips, the edge of the sink where he's pressing me back, gentle strength and bruising passion clutching me close, the slide of silk against my cock, and oh dear God his hand is moving south and Nick Ryder is kneading my ass.

And he acts as turned on as I am. That's the real mind-blower there. Nick wants me. He wants *me*. I don't know how long I stood there, lost in the inferno that was one of my best friends, before I realized that I was clutching him so hard I was probably hurting him. I very carefully started to release my grip. It wasn't until he did the same that I realized he'd been holding me almost tight enough to bruise.

Oh, there are so many different things that could go incredibly bad right now. But Nick chases them all away with a smile, and goes up to the wheelhouse to move the boat away from the pier. I'd just practically attacked him, for God's sake, and he stops to ask me if I'm okay. I haven't the foggiest clue if I am or not, so I tell him I'm fine, and he goes.

***

It didn't take long at all to move the Riptide out to a more secluded spot. Nick had spent the entire time in the wheelhouse, wondering just what was going to transpire next. Tonight was going…too fast, and not fast enough. *God, I wonder what Murray thinks of all of this?* His friend was usually so transparent, so wide-open. But he was surprising the hell out of Nick tonight. *Take the boat out so we can talk in private...Geez, Ryder, could you be any more obvious? You just want to get him alone. Wonder if Murray's realized how badly I want him?* Of course, considering how close they'd been in the galley, Murray couldn't possibly have missed the effect he'd had on the larger man---Nick certainly hadn't missed noticing the effect he was having on Murray, after all. *Thank God it seems to be at least somewhat mutual---because I don't think there's enough ice water on the planet to cool me down right now.*

Murray was sitting on the deck, leaning back against the benches there and looking up at the stars. A small smile played across his features as the moonlight reflected off his glasses. Nick walked over, and looked down.

"Is this seat taken?" He gave Murray his best seductive grin, the one that got him into so much trouble with the members of the Barefoot Contessa's crew.

"Not at all," said Murray, patting the deck next to him. The smile he gave Nick in response went a long way towards explaining why, on occasion, some of the Contessa's girls didn't even seem to realize Nick or Cody existed.

*Weird.* Flirting with Murray felt...almost natural, somehow. Nick sat down, and oh-so-casually put his arm around Murray's shoulders. Murray smiled, and leaned into him, just a little bit.

Murray handed him a cup of the coffee from downstairs. Nick noticed that he'd poured the carafe's contents into a thermos. *Smart move. This may well be a long talk.*

The two sat in silence for a couple of minutes, sipping coffee and lost in their own private thoughts. Finally, Nick had to break the silence.

"Murray, how long…how..."

"How'd a nice boy like me end up with a fetish like this?" Murray finished with a grin.

Nick snorted. "You could put it that way. Although I really don't have any room to criticize, seeing as how I share it."

"Not just taking a walk on the wild side, then?" Murray shot a crooked grin at him. "Well, to be honest, I found out how much I enjoyed BDSM from the same person who taught me that I liked guys just as well as girls. After I got out of the Army, we were working together at MIT, and he kind of ambushed me in the lab one night."

"Like, tied you up and beat you, ambushed you?"

Murray laughed. "No, nothing like that. Not yet, anyway." He grinned. "We were working on a project together, and he…well, basically, he kissed me. He'd given me warning. Heck, to look back on it, he'd given me plenty of warning, but I'm really bad at subtle. The first I realized what was going on, I had a double armful of male wrapped around me. And I discovered to my great surprise that I liked it. Really liked it. Matters progressed from there, and fairly soon he was showing me a few other things about myself. He was an experienced Dom, and he took things slowly, and very gently. I think I was even more surprised to discover just how much I could enjoy a little pain than I was to discover that I was bi. I already knew I had issues with control, but until I met him… well, let's just say I had no idea that something could be done about them."

"So what happened to him?"

"Not too long after that, he got an amazing job offer---someplace I couldn't follow. He'd have been stupid to refuse, and I told him so and kissed him goodbye. He was killed out there in an accident, a few years ago." Murray's tone had gone curiously flat and quiet, and Nick cursed himself for bringing up what was obviously a painful memory.

"I'm sorry."

"You know, I'm not so sure he would've come back to me anyway. I loved him very much---but I don't think he felt quite so strongly about me." Murray's smile was sad, and Nick wanted very much to kiss the pain he saw in Murray's eyes away. But he held back, knowing that the gesture might be misinterpreted. He cast about for a change of subject that wasn't too obvious.

"So, you're exclusively submissive?"

That seemed to do the trick, as Murray laughed. "Oh, hell no! When Siva left, I started visiting some of the BDSM clubs in the area, and found that not only were there a few things he'd never done to me that I liked, but there was a whole list of things I could do to other people that I liked as well. Nowadays I'm more Dom than sub, if anything."

Something in the back of Nick's brain started to sit up and do tricks. "Really?" *Down, boy! Quit slobbering over the man!*

It was no use. Murray's answering slow smile and raise of his eyebrows told Nick that the computer whiz had heard everything he'd needed to from Nick's tone.

Not dropping his gaze, Murray took a slow sip of his coffee and replied, "Yes." His smile was evil. Nick liked it a lot. The change that seemed to have come over his friend was almost frightening.

"You know, Murray, you look positively demonic when you smile like that." Nick was a little breathless already. He couldn't decide which he liked better---the image of Murray, stretched out on that rack, begging him for mercy, or the thought of himself stretched out on that rack, begging Murray for mercy. *Either way, wow.*

"Why do you think I do it?" The faintest of giggles, and the Murray Nick knew was back in place. "So, Nick…what do you like?"

*You.* "Well, I haven't gotten a lot of chances to try things, but there's a pretty wide range I'm interested in. I'd like to try…what you were doing earlier tonight. Plus, I have to admit to having a major thing for leather."

"Oh, yes, leather is a good thing," replied Murray, with a smile. Nick laughed. *That is so not a sentence I ever expected to hear coming from those lips. Those extremely gorgeous, full and sensual lips. Those lips that should really be sucking my...CUT IT OUT!*

"Heh. Yeah," replied Nick, once he'd gotten himself under control.

"So, you don't have a really specific idea of what you like?" Murray asked.

*You, hanging from that frame, stretched out taut and helpless, begging for more…*

"Well," said Nick, "there is one other specific thing I know I want."

"Like what?" asked Murray, who was beginning to sound a little breathless himself.

Nick couldn't control it any more. "You."

"Me?" asked Murray. His voice still held that slightly casual, slightly challenging tone, but the light spilling from the cabin was enough to let Nick see that Murray's faint blush had blazed up into a fiery red. Murray was trying very hard not to meet Nick's gaze, and Nick could see that the younger man was starting to breathe just a little more rapidly.

"Hadn't you figured that out, Murray? Did you think I was just teasing you when I kissed you in the galley?" Nick was liking this more and more by the second. Murray was blatantly aroused, and blatantly embarrassed, and oh, the combination was a sweet one.

"I thought I kissed *you* in the galley, Nick." Murray's voice had deepened with emotion. Nick liked it. A lot.

"You saw me watching you at the club tonight. God, seeing you tied up like that…helpless and wanting…I wanted to help the guy beating you. I wanted to be the guy beating you. I wanted you to make those noises for me. I think you knew then. I'm sure you know now. I think you just want to hear me say it again."

Murray's reply was almost a whisper. "Very much."

*Oh, damn, if he's going to look that cute, there's nothing I can do but kiss him.* So Nick did, slowly and carefully. Pulling back, he looked into Murray's eyes, so open, and helpless, and dark, and whispered, "I want you. Now."

Murray met him halfway with an eager intensity. His lips were warm, and stronger than Nick had expected. Somehow the distance between them was closed, and Nick had all but pulled Murray into his lap. Their kiss deepened, and Nick felt the gentle push of a questing tongue against his lips. He pulled it into his mouth, and sucked for all he was worth.

Reaching up with one hand, he gently brushed the hair curling down at Murray's collar away from his neck, and was rewarded with a very slight shiver. His hands grew bolder, and he pushed Murray's jacket down off of his shoulders. Murray let it go without the slightest protest, and wrapped himself even more firmly around Nick.

Faint, gentle kisses were planted all along Nick's jaw line, until Murray reached the hollow behind his ear. He nuzzled the skin there gently, occasionally breaking off to nip at an earlobe. Nick sighed and wondered if it was possible for him to get any more turned on than he was right now. He trailed a hand down Murray's spine, and was rewarded with a soft moan. *Yep, it's possible.*

He reached for the collar button of Murray's shirt, wondering for perhaps the hundredth time why a man who lived on a houseboat in California felt the need to keep his shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck. Murray tilted his chin back to give Nick better access, and reached around behind him to tug the hem of his polo shirt out of his jeans.

Nick shivered slightly as Murray ran his hands up under his shirt and across the back of his waist. As he finally managed to undo that stubborn collar button, he leaned in to nibble at the triangle of exposed skin, while his fingers slipped to the next button, to undo it in turn. Murray sighed and leaned into the kiss, and reached up with one hand to remove his glasses and set them out of the way.

The movement put Murray a little off-balance, and Nick pressed his advantage, pushing the younger man gently down to lie flat on the deck. He noticed with amusement that Murray seemed intent on pulling Nick down with him. Since Nick had no problems with that idea, in a very short time they were both stretched out full length, with Murray on his back and Nick hovering over him, laying on his side.

Nick made short work of the rest of the shirt buttons, and rubbed his palms across Murray's hairless chest. Murray arched up into the caress, and his eyes fluttered closed for a bare second. Reaching up, he tugged Nick's shirt over his head. Nick, in the meantime, was running his hands over every inch of exposed skin he could find. He was amused and rather complimented by the goosebumps he was raising. *God, he is so responsive.*

Nick leaned in to nip gently at the skin behind Murray's ear, and began to work his way down. He bit gently at the base of Murray's neck, and was rewarded with a groan of, "Harder!" He obliged thoroughly, and Murray writhed. The younger man's skin was fever hot to the touch. When Nick moved slightly he noticed that his shy little friend had already managed to undo Nick's slacks, and was brushing gentle fingertips along the skin right on top of his boxers.

Murray, finally coming back to earth slightly, caught Nick's eye and held it as his hands went to the waistband of his friend's trousers. "May I?" he whispered quietly.

Nick tried to say, "Yes," but his lungs failed him. Fortunately, Murray saw the answer in his eyes and on his lips, and had Nick's pants and boxers off and cast aside before the larger man could force himself to take a breath and try again.

Delicate hands caressed Nick's hips, and teased across his thighs. Nick sighed and leaned into the caress. Capturing both of Murray's hands in one of his, he reached out to even up the odds a bit. He used his weight to push Murray back down, and lightly teased one hand from Murray's cheek, along his jaw, down his neck and chest, dipping ever lower to hesitate at his belt buckle. Murray struggled a little in his grasp, and his breathing grew ragged. Nick looked up to find those huge dark eyes regarding him intently. *Hmm. Somebody's eager, I think.* He smiled at Murray, and was rewarded by a flare in the depths of those same dark eyes, and an indrawn breath. Slowly, teasingly, he undid Murray's jeans, without dropping his gaze. As he started to push them out of his way, he discovered that Murray was still wearing those silk boxers he'd had on at the club. *Oh, yeah.* Murray twisted again, trying to break loose, but Nick merely tightened his grip on the slender man's wrists, being careful not to bruise.

Using his free hand, his feet, and anything else he could think of, Nick quickly got Murray's jeans far enough down for Murray to kick them off. The boxers he left on---they had definite… possibilities. Murray, in the meanwhile, had apparently gone insane. He was bucking and writhing in Nick's grip, and kissing, licking, sucking, and *oh, God* biting everything he could possibly reach. Nick reveled in the feel of skin on skin, and the obvious evidence that he was driving the serious, self-contained scientist into a frenzy. *And I've barely touched him.*

"Mmm. So Murray the big, bad Dom likes being held down, does he?" he said, mockingly. "You know, this afternoon I would have said nothing could make you look dangerous. Cute, sure. But dangerous, no. Then I got to see you in that club. Wished I could have watched you with some poor, helpless submissive writhing underneath your whip. I bet you would have looked dangerous then. Very, very dangerous. But you know, Murray…right now you don't look dangerous at all. You look extremely hot, but not one damn bit dangerous. Fuckable and vulnerable and sexy as hell, but not dangerous." Nick's tone had dampened to a deep whisper, and he saw Murray shudder as his words registered. The slender man's eyes were already beginning to glaze over.

There was an answering flare of arousal in Murray's eyes, and he struggled still as he answered, "You loosen your grip for even a fraction of a second, Nick Ryder, and I'll show you just how *dangerous* I can be." Murray smiled just like a shark, and Nick damn near came from what that smile did to his insides.

"Then maybe I'd better hold on tight, hadn't I?" he asked, as soon as he could speak without his voice cracking.

"Maybe you'd better," replied Murray, a slightly glazed look in his eyes as Nick's hands continued to wander, and that smile still firmly in place. "Or…"

"Or?"

"Well, I…" Nick got yet another surprise as Murray blushed and looked away quickly. *Now he blushes?*

"Come on, Boz, spit it out." Murray seemed visibly to come to a decision.

"There's a set of restraints in my bag. You could chain me to the railing." *Oh, fuck, YES,* thought Nick. *Jesus, Boz, hand me my fantasies on a silver platter, why don't you? The only reason I know this is reality is that my dreams don't ever get this good.*

"Would you like that?" asked Nick, softly.

"I, ah…" Murray wouldn't meet his eyes, and if anything, his blush deepened. "It…you don't…" The younger man seemed horribly embarrassed by the comment, and Nick was slightly at a loss. Murray again tried to pull loose for a second, and Nick realized that he was trying to avoid Nick's gaze.

*Uh-oh. This could be bad.* Nick tightened his grip slightly, and leaned down to kiss Murray. There was more than one way to stop the young scientist from babbling, after all. The increased pressure on his wrists and the lips so gently brushing his did for Murray what Nick's silence had not, and Nick felt Murray relax just a bit.

"I'll be happy to go get them, but I seem to recall a comment about being in trouble if I gave you even the slightest chance," Nick teased Murray gently.

"Oh. I…" again the younger man seemed speechless, and Nick finally understood.

"Murray, look at me. I can chain you up, you can chain me up, we can dispense with the chains altogether if that's what you'd like, but you will always, always be safe with me. You don't need to be shy about asking for what you want---if it's something I don't know how to do, I'll learn. If it's something I don't want to do, we'll figure it out together. But even if we agree that I'm going to flog you senseless tonight, I won't do anything to really *hurt* you, understand? So quit being afraid that I'm going to freak out because you're kinky. I mean, hello, look where we started the evening."

At that, Murray grinned, ruefully. "Sorry."

"And no apologizing."

Murray laughed. "Yes, Master," he said, tongue firmly planted in cheek.

"And don't you forget it," Nick replied with a grin. "Now, again—do you want me to chain you to the railing?"

Murray took a deep breath and smiled. Looking Nick straight in the eye, he said, "Please?"

*Oh dear God, I think I'm in love.*

"I have to warn you ahead of time, Murray, I don't think I'm… competent to do much with floggers and so forth. All of my experience so far has been from books, I'd be afraid of hitting you too hard, or in the wrong spot. I'm willing, hell, I'm eager to learn, but um, I think we're both a little too worked up for a tutorial right now. Is that gonna be okay?"

Murray laughed, loudly, more from a release of tension than anything else. "Yeah, that's fine. I wasn't…I mean, I'm still sore from earlier, and you'd mentioned being inexperienced. I don't need pain. I just like it sometimes. You just…seemed to enjoy having me at your mercy. I know I liked it, and I thought you might want both hands free. Besides, I'm told I thrash," he finished, ruefully.

"Oh, really?" said Nick, running one hand lightly down Murray's torso, brushing his fingertips against the silk covering his hips. Murray gasped, and his back arched so high that Nick almost lost his grasp on the other man's wrists. "What do you know, it's true." Nick laughed at the mock glare Murray tossed him. "Stay put, I'll be right back."

"No, I think I'll jump overboard and swim for help." Murray said as Nick released his grasp.

"Behave, or I won't beat you." Murray's laughter followed Nick down into the brightly lit cabin.

***

He's gone off to get the restraints, and here I sit, alone on deck, firmly convinced that in about five more seconds Dooley's going to wander out here in fishnets and high heels, singing `Sweet Home Alabama' (also known as Reason #48 Why The Boz No Longer Eats Skittles Mixed With Fritos Right Before Bedtime).

I'm dreaming. I must be. And oh God WHY did I have to wear the fucking cock cage tonight? Poor Nick. And he hasn't even found it yet, since he's apparently decided to leave my boxers on for now. It's too intense---the sensation is almost painful. That DAMN silk keeps rasping back and forth across the head of my cock, and I honestly have no clue how the fuck I'm managing not to reach down and relieve that gorgeous, beautiful, terrifying ache. I need to come so bad that I`m damn near tears.

And you know, the really beautiful naked Italian guy isn't helping that one bit. God, he is so beautiful. It's not like I haven't seen him undressed before, but this is different, somehow. This is him showing it to me, and that makes all the difference. All those times I've envied that broad chest, that lovely dark chest hair---and I've never allowed myself to dream about getting to touch it. It's silky, and warm, and...and too wonderful for words. All the times I've felt guilty about finding Nick attractive, and now he tells me he wants me. I keep...waiting for the catch. Waiting for something to go wrong.

I can hear him moving around downstairs, and feel myself shiver. For a novice, he's taking to the whole domming thing like a duck to water. I think I'm in for a pretty wild night.

Maybe that's the catch. He's been wanting to try the whole BDSM thing for a while now, he said. I'm nearby, and safe. Maybe he just wants tonight, to get a little experience. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow to the sounds of, "It never happened."

Even if I do, I think it's worth it.

***

Walking into the salon felt…otherworldly, somehow. Nick halfway expected to see Cody watching the television to the soundtrack of the clicking of Murray's keyboard. The sight of the Roboz sitting inert over in the corner certainly didn't help his sense of reality, either. Nick briefly toyed with the notion of…draping a cloth over its head, or something, so it would quit staring at him with that guileless gaze it had. *Yup, definitely getting surreal.*

Shaking it off, he retrieved Murray's duffel bag from the corner near the door, and headed back out on deck. Murray had pushed himself up to a seated position, and moved some of their clothing out of the way. The sight of his debauched angel from the BDSM club, his gorgeous and willing submissive, his sweet little computer geek buddy, waiting patiently for him, half sprawled on the forward deck, heated Nick's blood. *Oh, little man, I am going to make you come screaming my name.*

Nick walked over to where Murray was sitting, as close as he could get. Looming over the other man, he handed Murray the bag. "So, Boz, what else do you have in there besides restraints?"

Murray silently emptied the bag out. It contained a couple of floggers, a gorgeous black leather cat-o-nine-tails, and the aforementioned restraints *Mmm, more black leather. Looks like I'm not the only member of the Riptide Detective Agency with a leather fetish.* Actually, now that he thought of it, Cody owned a black leather jacket. Nick couldn't decide which thought was funnier---the thought that all three of them might be into leather, or the thought that Murray might just love the sight of Cody in that jacket as much as Nick did…

There were one or two things Nick didn't recognize, *But then I'm sure Murray will be happy to explain them to me later…or maybe even demonstrate.* Nick noted with amusement that the feather that Bear had been tormenting Murray with earlier apparently belonged to Murray---it was in the bag, along with a pair leather pants and a silk shirt. Murray must have changed at the club. He noted the two collars, linked to each other and to one of the belt loops of the pants.

Murray followed his gaze, and said quietly, "Siva's, and mine. I'm not his anymore, but I keep them nearby, to remember him by." He brushed the collars briefly with his fingertips, before reaching into the bag for the next couple of items. There was a blindfold, a gag (both leather), an article that looked something like a pair of elbow-length gloves, only sturdier, two riding crops, and a paddle that looked suspiciously like it could be used to play ping-pong in a biker bar.

Grabbing up the handcuffs, Nick couldn't resist bringing them to his nose and smelling the rich leather scent. He looked down to find Murray staring up at him through impossibly long eyelashes, his expression hungry. He reached down to cradle the back of Murray's head, his movements deceptively gentle. When his hand encountered Murray's hair, he grabbed a handful and pulled. Murray's eyes flew open, as did his mouth, and his breathing grew ragged. Nick could see tears of pain threatening to form in the younger man's eyes. He slowly pulled Murray upright by the hair and one arm, allowing him to get his feet underneath him.

When Murray was finally standing, Nick guided his head close in so that his lips were right next to Murray's ear. In a voice almost too soft to be heard, he whispered, "Did you like that?"

"Yes," Murray breathed, faintly.

"Yes, Sir," said Nick.

"Yes, Sir, I liked that." Murray's voice was trembling, as was the rest of him.

"Good. Now, if at any time you need me to stop what I'm doing, I want you to say, `Red', do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir, I understand."

"What do you understand, Murray?"

"The safeword is `Red', Sir."

"Good. Because I'm not going to stop for anything else." Nick very carefully steered Murray back towards the railing. *It's a good thing I'm watching where we're going, because Boz is so utterly zoned I think he'd fall over if I wasn't holding him up.*

Murray flinched as the cold metal touched his back. "Kneel." Murray knelt obediently, his head bowed. Nick could see him clasping his hands to keep them still.

Nick crouched in front of the slender man. Reaching out with one hand, he again grabbed a handful of hair and twisted Murray's head up for a kiss. Murray went willingly and submissively allowed his mouth to be thoroughly plundered. Murray's shaking intensified, and Nick checked him carefully to make sure he was all right. He seemed to be on the verge of tears, but Nick thought he'd never seen anything in his life as sexy as the sight of this man kneeling in front of him, lips swollen with kissing and eyelashes wet, trembling because of what he was doing.

"Lie down. On your back." Murray complied awkwardly, but with a speed that soothed Nick's worries.

"Reach up and grab the railing. No, further apart. Yes, like that. Good boy."

Buckling those lovely leather restraints around Murray's wrists felt almost like sex. Nick could see the shiver of pleasure Murray gave when the soft leather closed tightly over his pulse points. *Oh God, he is hot like that.*

"Now you're mine, Murray. Mine to play with. You can't escape, you can't stop me, all you can do is lie there and feel." He ducked in to nibble at an earlobe, and Murray gasped, slightly, his eyes tightly shut. Slowly, diabolically, Nick trailed gentle kisses down Murray's body, stopping at the waistband of his shorts. Murray groaned in need, and Nick smiled. He'd fantasized about this moment for so long. His first submissive, bound at his pleasure. His to play with---to torture with pleasure, and pain, and the sweet agony of needing to come so badly that he just might die from the need of it.

The fact that it was Murray only made it better. Nick felt like his deepest, darkest, most shameful and secret fantasies had all come true in a heartbeat---and turned out to be not such bad things, either. Murray had always struck Nick as vulnerable and fragile, but it had never occurred to him to wonder if maybe something in the Boz liked it that way. Here was Murray, not only willing, but eager to turn himself over to Nick's tender, or not-so-tender, ministrations. Nick was turned on beyond belief by the turn events had taken tonight

***

There's a god leaning over me. He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life. Silken skin and coal-black hair, and pale blue eyes that look at me as if I'm the most precious thing in his
universe. So gentle. So evil. So...ohhhhhh.

And he's so kind. Not nice. Nice people give you what you ask for. Kind ones give you what you need.

I need him.

***

Nick began to explore using only his fingertips, and never straying farther down than his lips had. Murray's gasps became more audible, and a couple of quickly hidden hitches in his breathing made Nick suspect that the other man just might be ticklish. He dragged his fingernails quickly up one side of Murray's ribcage, and was rewarded with a yelp. *Definitely ticklish.* He spent a little while exploring that particular weakness, watching Murray lose even more of his self-control. Oh, but it was sweet, watching Murray writhe under his touch.

"Oh, God, Sir, please!" Murray's groan was distracting, coming as it did in the middle of a good bit, so Nick ignored him at first.

"Please, Sir!" Murray really sounded desperate now.

"Yes, Murray?" Nick was *so* enjoying this.

"Please, I…please, I need to…" Murray's eyes were open, and he was looking straight into Nick's, desperation, hunger, and embarrassment evident in his every movement. He broke off with a blush. *He is so fucking...edible like that.*

"If you can't say it, Murray, you can't have it." Nick's tone was warm and mocking at the same time, and he immediately renewed his teasing assault with fingers and tongue. Murray bucked and writhed under him so violently that even when Nick straddled his thighs to pin him down, he was afraid the younger man might dislocate a shoulder struggling against the cuffs.

He gentled Murray with his palms, and it calmed the frantic struggles, but Murray still arched up into his caresses, moaning low in his throat. *You know, I know he's been going to that club lately, but I wonder just how long it's been since someone's touched him like this, just skin on skin.* He kept running his palms across Murray's stomach, sides, and chest until some of the tension had calmed, and then dipped his hands to brush light fingertips across the silk covered hollows of Murray's hips.

Murray's eyes flew open, and he bucked upwards, gasping. Then that lovely litany of "Ohgodohgodohpleasepleaseohfuckohgodohstopnogodpleasestopoh…" that had driven Nick so wild at the club started back up again, and Nick found himself thinking very carefully about the multiplication tables. When he finally relented a little, Murray finally got enough oxygen to speak.

"Please, Sir," he said, his cheeks flaming and his expression deliciously distressed, "Please…Nick, touch me. I…"

"All you ever had to do was ask, Murray." Nick dropped a careful hand to stroke the silk-covered prize he had been so carefully avoiding, and Murray's reaction was beautiful. *Is that…leather? He is wearing something!*

As delicious as the boxers looked on the slender man, Nick's curiosity overcame him. He just had to see. He tugged the shorts off in a single fluid motion, and looked. *Wow. Okay, so Murray is that big. I didn't realize they made leather cock rings, though.* It was more of a sheath than a ring, really. And Murray had his rather impressive equipment buckled into it so tightly that Nick almost winced.

"Murray, how long have you been wearing that thing tonight?"

It took him a few seconds to decompress enough to answer coherently. "Since I left the boat to go to the club."

"And you've had those boxers on the whole time?"

"Yes."

"What does it do to you, Murray?"

"It...it keeps me hard." Murray's cheeks were flaming again. *God, he looks hot like that.* Something Murray had said caught Nick's attention.

"You have to be hard to get this on in the first place, right?"

"Yes," Murray breathed.

"So basically, what you're telling me is that you've been hard continuously for several hours now?"

"Yes, Sir." Murray was trying desperately to look anywhere but at the knowing look in Nick's eyes.

"And the silk rubbing up against you...hmm. I think someone's a bit of a closet hedonist. Or masochist. Or both. So, after all this time, you must be pretty damn close to coming, yes?"

"Umm. Yes, Sir."

Nick smiled. "Good. Don't."

"Sir?"

"You want to come, don't you, Murray?" Nick trailed his fingertips in slow, teasing circles through Murray's wiry dark pubic hair and across the tops and insides of his thighs. Murray gasped every time his hands drew near his erection, and groaned in disappointment every time Nick moved away.

"Yes, Sir."

"Yes, Sir, what, Murray?" He varied location, speed, and pressure, but never quite touched the leather sheathed cock standing in front of him. Nick knew how the slender man felt---his own cock was so hard it hurt, and it pulsed with every moan, every gasp, every plea he wrung from his bound friend.

"Yes, Sir, I want to come. Please." *Totally blissed out. Totally unselfconscious. Oh, Boz, you are breaking my heart here…God, I thought I knew you so well, but I had no idea, did I? I've seen you happy, sad, fucking terrified, exhausted, exhilarated, but oh dear Lord I never even in my wildest dreams believed I could see you like this, beyond thought, beyond pain, beyond anything but pleasure and need. And it's me you need. So fucking trusting. Just put yourself totally in my hands, didn't you? God, you are so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.*

"Murray, you are so fucking beautiful right now. I can't even begin to tell you how amazing you look." Murray's eyes opened in surprise. He looked…shocked. Hungry. "I am going to make you come screaming my name," Nick whispered throatily, "But not just yet." Murray's eyes flared, and Nick could hear that lovely little indrawn gasp of air. He renewed his teasing assault on every bit of skin he could reach, mixing faint caresses with scratches and small bites. His teeth scraped a nipple and Murray moaned, low and helpless in his chest. God, the man was a veritable symphony of erogenous zones, and Nick was determined to explore each and every one of them.

Nick leaned over and took one smooth pink nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the center without ever quite touching it. He flicked his tongue back and forth across it, enjoying Murray's inarticulate response. *Although it sounds like `Oh God, yes,' so I think I'll stay here for a little bit.*

He pulled back and took Murray's left foot in his hand, rubbing firmly along the high arch, to the toes, up to the ankle, and back. When some of the tension eased, he brought his mouth down to lick gently at the big toe, and then scraped it with his teeth. Another gasp from the bound man. Murray's feet were so long, so elegant. He was surprised at the long, lean length of the man. That Nick worked his way across Murray's foot, taking his time. Then up to the ankle, and the calf. When he reached the top of that muscle, he turned and pulled Murray's leg up so that he was lying underneath it, with Murray's foot resting on his chest. He started to lick and nibble at the underside of Murray's knee, his arms crossed over the lower part of his leg holding him in place. Murray let out a strangled moan, and started writhing again. *I think he likes this.* Murray seemed frantic to pull away, but Nick noted with amusement that the smaller man made absolutely no effort to fight it when Nick reached over and pulled his right leg into a similar position. He switched back and forth for a little while, trying various pressures and strokes, and listened to the ragged, impassioned moaning of his oh-so-quiet friend. Changing position again, he worked his way up the insides of Murray's thighs, sometimes licking, sometimes biting hard enough to wring a gasp from the slender man, and sometimes pinching hard enough to bruise.

***

Nick's hands are everywhere. His tongue is everywhere. Those familiar, beautiful steel blue eyes are boring into me as he drives me literally to the brink of insanity. So good. God, so good. I've never felt so helpless, so exposed, so alive before. I can't think. I can barely breathe. I think I'm going to scream. Oh God, there. There, yes, THERE.

Oh dear God, I'm in love. No one's ever made me feel like this before. No one's ever touched me like this, really *touched* me. Every little bit of skin he can find, he's touching. Apparently I have erogenous zones where I didn't even know I had places before. Ohhhhhhhhhh. Yes. Yes. I want him to never, ever, stop, and to cut it out immediately and let me come.

I keep thinking it can't get any better. I can't go any higher. The fucking tsunami of pleasure washing over me has finally reached a peak. And then it does, and I'm lost again. It's too much... it's too much...oh, dear God...it's enough. Finally, it's enough.

When did I fall in love with Nick? And why is this so much better than *anything* I've ever felt before? Oh, God, Nick, do *that* again...

***

Changing positions, he varied his assault, mapping out every sensitive spot he could find, torturing the man spread out before him like an offering. It was fascinating how many different sounds one human being could make...*Mine.*

"Oh God, Nick, please. Please. Oh fuck, oh please. Nick, Please!" Murray was almost whimpering his name, and Nick had never heard anything so hot in his entire life.

Releasing his hold, he sat up, turned over, and pulled himself so that he was hovering over Murray's body, his hands on either side of the bound man's head, their faces almost touching. Murray kept arching up, trying to grind his body into Nick's. It took almost all of the self-control Nick had left to avoid him.

"Please what, Murray?"

"Please let me come, Sir. Please. God, Nick, I'm begging you. Please!" The younger man was almost in tears now. Nick leaned down, slowly, and covered the frantically struggling body with his own, pinning the smaller man. The warmth of Murray's long, lean body stretched out underneath him, writhing with need, was almost too much to stand. He stole a kiss, which Murray returned with abandon, those soft, warm lips driving him nearly insane.

When Nick's head stopped spinning, he pulled back just an inch or so, and smiled. *His eyes look black by moonlight. Huge, black, and wide, wide open, and I could so easily dive in there and never surface. God, he's so far gone---and I'm the one who's done this to him. This is better than any book I've ever read---and better than any sex I've ever had. Even now, I could keep him here, trembling on the brink. He's mine, all mine, and there's not a damn thing he can do to stop me from doing anything I want to him---and he gave himself to me willingly.*

"Yes."

He rolled off from on top, and Murray blinked, confused. Confusion turned to shock as Nick positioned himself on his stomach between Murray's legs. Catching those lovely black eyes with his own, he blew once, gently, right across the head of Murray's swollen cock.

*Now that's a deer in the headlights if I've ever seen one.* He slowly extended his tongue and took just one gentle lick, and Murray's eyes shut. The slender man gave a moan that was almost a sob, and Nick couldn't help himself. He began a merciless assault with mouth and tongue on the tightly wrapped cock, his ears drinking in Murray's desperate moans like a fine wine.

He could taste the leather of the sheath that was tormenting Murray, mingled with sweat and pre-come. Eagerly, he lapped at the tip, spurred on by the helpless noises Murray was making. *Oh, yeah. This is so incredible. Better than I ever thought it could be.*

*I could do this all night.* Murray's moans were taking on an urgent quality and Nick realized that while he could go all night, Murray probably couldn't go for more than a minute or two. Every once in awhile Murray would raise his head and open his eyes to see Nick still watching him, still sucking him for all he was worth. *Like he can't believe it's me, or something. Hell, this is a little surreal.*

***

I look down at that soul-shattering sight---Nick Ryder sucking my cock, eagerly, as if there were no place on earth he'd rather be, no one else he'd rather be doing this to---and I realize that he was telling the truth earlier. This man will always keep me safe. No matter what I ask, no matter whom I choose to be. He'll catch me when I fall. Arousal, pain, pleasure, relief, loneliness or the end of it, warmth, and finally joy---clear and simple in its radiant light, sweeps through me. I can feel a sweet shattering approaching. I know I'm going to fly apart with a desperate strength borne of long delay. I'm teetering at the very edge of that stygian cliff that I've so carefully avoided with one hand, and courted with the other. And I know that when all is said and done, I'll be caught, safe in Nick's infinitely strong arms.

So I leap.

***

Nick felt Murray's testicles draw up and felt the slender calf muscles on either side of him tense. *Let go, Murray.* He thought.

Murray didn't just let go, he exploded, screaming Nick's name. Nick had to keep his hands on the younger man's hips to keep him from arching up so violently that he surely would have strained a few dozen muscles. *Wow.* Nick kept at it until the last of the tremors had died down, and Murray's gratified howls had dwindled to the occasional helpless little whimper.

Nick noticed with surprise that the younger man was crying.

He climbed up to lie alongside him, stroking his chest and stomach tenderly as the last of the aftershocks died down. Nick reached up and undid the cuffs so Murray could bring his arms down, and the younger man curled into Nick's chest.

A gentle hand encircled his cock, and Nick gasped. He looked down to see Murray looking up at him, his eyes feral with need and moonlight reflecting off of his tear-stained cheeks. "Please, may I?"

The combination of that devastating look and the rather devastating caresses the Boz was bestowing on him made Nick willing to agree to anything, anything at all that Murray might want.

"Yes, you may." That was the last articulate noise Nick made for quite some time, because the second his permission was granted, Murray ducked down and swallowed Nick's cock whole. There was a surprising amount of strength left in those wiry arms, and Murray was using all of it to keep Nick deep inside of his mouth while his tongue worked frantically to find every last sensitive spot.

"Oh, God. Murray," Nick groaned. He tangled his hands in Murray's hair.

Nick was on the brink, about to come hard, when Murray stopped. Completely. Nick whimpered a protest.

Murray drew Nick's cock as far in as it would go, and used a devastating suction to keep it in place as the tip of his tongue traced the vein on the underside from base to tip and steadily back down again. And again. And again, slowly, steadily, maddeningly, until Nick felt his eyes roll back in his head.

"Bastard," he whispered. An answering chuckle told him that Murray had heard him, and the vibrations on his cock nearly sent him over the edge. While his tongue did incredible things to Nick's cock, Murray loosened his grip on his hips. Deft, long-fingered hands caressed Nick's sides, tangled their fingers in his chest hair, brushed across his belly and swept over his collarbone. Gentle fingertips found his nipples and teased them into an aching hardness, as that wicked tongue kept up its slow and methodical tracing of a path that was setting Nick's nerve endings on fire.

Nick looked down, just as Murray opened his eyes. The sight was almost too much for him. Sweet little Murray Bozinsky, his hair a mess, his face flushed and covered in sweat, tears still glistening on his eyelashes, Nick's cock disappearing into that beautiful mouth, and a fire in his eyes that said absolutely nothing about computers, and everything about the man he was making love to.

Nick couldn't stand it anymore. "I love you, Murray," he whispered.

Murray's eyes flared as he shivered, and that gorgeous slow rhythm his tongue was keeping speeded up, throwing Nick roaring over the edge into orgasm. When his shaking had finally subsided, Murray crawled up alongside of him, his palms caressing the older man gently.

Looking into Nick's eyes from oh, so close, Murray said, quietly, "I love you, Nick. Even if you wake up tomorrow morning and decide that this never happened, I still love you. I always will." His tone was sad, but determined.

"Murray...where the hell did that come from? Weren't you paying attention? I *love* you. I'll still love you tomorrow." Nick wrapped his arms around the younger man and held on tight. "You're mine now, you goof, and don't you forget it. "

Murray raised his eyes to Nick's. "I just didn't want you to...I...never thought..." His voice trailed off into helpless confusion.

"Shh," replied Nick, silencing him with a kiss. After a second, he felt Murray relax in his arms... and then arch into him with a soft moan.

"Wow," said Nick, teasingly. "You're insatiable."

"No," replied Murray with a grin. *An incredibly beautiful grin, at that.* "I'd say I'm pretty damn well satiated at this point."

Nick chuckled as sleep claimed him.

***
END