say I'm disturbed, it's what I deserve

[canceller]

[Jeremiah wasn't disappointed when he received the package at his quarters yesterday. It had seemed as good an idea as any to simply go with once it formed, which is to say it was also probably a terrible idea as well, but that hasn't stopped most of them here from going through with plenty of things lately. Call it arrogance. Call it desperation. The times they're living in are strange, if they're even living them at all. Such is the design. The enormous pressure cooker of the empire's capitol, a skeleton cabinet and hordes of mindless slaves, all like some kind of nightmare version of how he thought it would be, should he find himself once again stationed within Pendragon, serving the throne.

It's good to get away from it all for a little while. Black and blue, the material of the wrist cuff is almost impossibly supple under his fingers for something so strong as he runs his touch down the piece, still laid on the table. They're incredible quality even compared to the set he used to own, gleaming silver hardware and vivid dyes on the finest of leathers. Jeremiah had tested them personally and found them easily capable of what he needs, despite the delicate feel to them. Suzaku's strength is something he's able to objectively measure and had to prepare for, he just needed the right tool for the job.

He picks up the last cuff, second to last piece in the set, and walks back over to where Suzaku stands. As with the first three limbs, he simply takes hold of Suzaku's bare wrist without asking, though he's methodically gentle as he buckles the restraint into place, tightening to match the other side. Jeremiah smooths his hands over the material in appreciation once it's secured, then releases him and simply stands there for a moment, observing the other man. Sullen but made to be patient, as Jeremiah had insisted on the honors of cuffing him himself, remaining standing where he's been told to. He's in a simple button-down and pants, no shoes, though Jeremiah himself remains not much more dressed, just with his shirt tucked and his boots on.

There's no grandiose illusion to put on here. It's not the right approach, if he's going to get what he wants out of the younger man. He looks Suzaku in the eyes now, appraising where he might need to start.]

So, how are you feeling? Do you want the collar?

Comments

[711]

[Suzaku makes no move to test the restraints– he knows full well they're enough to hold him. Jeremiah, of all men, would know that as well. Tough as they are, the leather is supple against his skin with just the right amount of yield. Suzaku couldn't ask for much more, though he doesn't quite feel he's being adequately punished when he's being handled with this much consideration.

These cuffs don't creak and whine when he shifts, don't dig their rusted barbs into his wrists or weigh heavily on his limbs. Suzaku almost wishes that they did, but he's being given enough of a gift that he'd be inconsiderate to raise a fuss over being treated with some degree of decency.

So he's comfortable where he's been bound, his eyes shifting between Jeremiah and the collar in question.]

I want it. The collar.

[No answer as to how he's feeling. The results speak for themselves, Suzaku thinks.]

[canceller]

[It says plenty. Jeremiah barely reacts, just stands there and observes him a moment longer. He's watching his face for what it's worth, but Suzaku's not nervous or hesitant, at least not externally. A good sign, he thinks.]

All right.

[Stepping away, he picks up the collar, leaving the table scattered with clips and chains and a couple bundles of rope. Extra leverage, should he need more than keeping Suzaku's wrists and ankles together. Or rather, when he chooses to escalate, because it always, inevitably, does.

He buckles the collar on with the same care, though slightly slower, watching him all the more closely. It wraps just as beautifully around his neck, wide enough to keep it slightly stiff, but not locked up. Testing the fit with a finger underneath, he seems satisfied with the result. And oh, can he imagine Suzaku wishes they were harsher on his skin, but Jeremiah wouldn't risk the nerve damage of metal pressed into flesh for so long.

When he first set out to do this, he had already tried painting a harsher picture in his mind, with a less kind set of restraints. It had only brought back images of him from not all that long ago, a dim room and an innocent boy in a straightjacket and Jeremiah's willingness to twist what he had to to do a slain prince's memory some farce of "justice." It left a bitter taste in his mouth, just enough to shelve the idea, knowing his heart couldn't find its way into it.

And he can't hurt those hands, ones that must carry such a heavy burden in the coming days.

Jeremiah fits his hand over the leather, broad palm and long fingers curling what they can around the width of his neck. His thumb and forefinger fit just to the skin above, and he presses into the soft spot under Suzaku's jawline to hold him firm, but not unkind. Possessive, maybe. Just a little.]

Is that better?

[711]

[No, it wouldn't be accurate to call Suzaku nervous or hesitant– anxious might fit the bill. He's been waiting for this ever since the idea was merely a suggestion on Jeremiah's part, and one that might not have even been made in earnest. Of course, Suzaku was quick to express interest, quicker to volunteer his body at the first available opportunity.

There's no fixing a masochist– only giving them the bending they beg for until they inevitably break. Even so, no man has ever succeeded in pushing Suzaku that far. Jeremiah seems too kind a man to leave Suzaku exhausted and crying, though this man has pleasantly surprised him before.

Thus, he's anxious, antsy, nails gently scraping along his leather restraints. Leaving his marks on them, however little.

Suzaku's hips jerk, his legs desperate to wrap around Jeremiah and squeeze him until he bruises. That desire's followed him from the very day they'd met, dulled only slightly by the betterment of their relationship over time. Only slightly. Had Jeremiah not bound his ankles as well, he'd be coated in bruises from both his mouth and Suzaku's powerful thighs.

When those hands find his neck, Suzaku visibly shivers– his cheeks redden just slightly.]

You're too gentle.

[canceller]

[Jeremiah stares at him, then fixes him with a smirk. Honestly, it's exactly what he should have expected. It's not much of an admonishment given what he's asking for, but he tightens his grip a little, fingertips pressing in.] And you're far too impatient.

[That smirk widens, a fire forming in his eye, feeling the pulse running through Suzaku's neck. It's faster than usual.]

I'll take as long as I please to do what I please. Those were our terms for today. You'll do well to remember that.

[He doesn't just expect an even bigger fight than usual, a process he's come to savor with someone so vicious. He's hoping for one. Impatient but composed is good, but it could be better. The kind of itch Suzaku can develop isn't one he can scratch halfway, he has to break it all down to its most base components and work it until it's sated. That can't always happen quickly.

Jeremiah releases him after a moment, soothing over his skin with his thumb just for the feeling, knowing it wasn't enough to cause sufficient pain.]

"Red," "yellow," and "green" will be the usual safewords. [Don't roll your eyes, he clearly still doesn't care that he's said it before. He'll say it every time he feels inclined to, every time they delve deeper.] I've set an hour and a half on the timer, if we don't take a break before then.

[The hand stroking along his neck slides to tip his chin upward, and Jeremiah moves in to kiss him without saying any more. It's firm, claiming Suzaku's lips for himself for a moment, not quite chaste and certainly not soft. Warm and wanting, too. It's the last precursor, to remind his body that what follows aren't Jeremiah's true feelings.

It's also less a show of trust that Suzaku will behave, but an opening to see if he'll bite the first chance he gets.]