#poor yok this was probably the last thing he expected

[paalove]

Uh hi weird thing to ask but could you write some seanwhite smut because you’re literally so good at it I can’t read it from someone else 😅

you sent this about three weeks ago, hope you're still in the mood to jerk off? 😅😅

but thank you!! very much. still feel weird writing and posting smut i won't lie. if you're looking for someone else who writes seanwhite(+) smut my ultimate and always recommendation is @smyx who has recently posted something with... some themes in common with this one.

so um. porn below the cut (and on ao3!)

...

Yok seems surprised when Sean answers the door to their apartment with a calm, “Hey.”

“I was expecting you to be sobbing into your pillow,” he cheerfully admits, “How come you’re normal?”

With a laugh, Sean says, “He’s only out of the city for a couple of weeks, we’ll call every day. It’s not like I’m codependent, man.”

“Yes you fucking are, don’t give me that shit,” Yok brushes past Sean and drops the bags he’s holding onto the little kitchen table. “Last time he left the city you- Hey, what’s up?”

Shit.

Sean needs better control of his reflexes.

When Yok had brushed past, Sean had experienced a sharp, shooting pain, and not entirely because Yok had deliberately bumped into him. It’s about where Yok bumped.

Yok can’t normally keep secrets, but – Sean looks him up and down.

Fuck it.

“You can’t tell him,” he starts, and that makes Yok’s eyes go all wide and scandalised.

…

The thing that carries Sean through that couple of weeks (two horrible weeks and three awful days) is that he’s planning for White’s return – to the day off both of them have planned for the day after White’s morning return. Planning and preparation occupy whatever of his time isn’t spent working or calling White.

His sanity and happiness are still hanging on by a thread until White’s actual return.

When the door opens, Sean doesn’t even try to pretend he hasn’t been waiting by it since the moment White texted that he was back in the city – standing right next to the door means all he has to do is open his arms wide and let the person he loves most in the world jump into them. The pain is less than it was the day after his departure, and Sean doesn’t wince.

They hold like that for – well, he’s not tracking time. Hugging White close to him is an activity that requires and rewards Sean’s total concentration, he’s not going to pay attention to trivial shit like time – probably for a while, anyway.

Parting only reluctantly, he takes the opportunity to stare at White’s face for any minor changes, and that’s when he realises how deep the bags under his eyes look.

Swiping at one with his thumb, Sean asks, “Tired?”

“Mm,” White nods, “I had to check out at six, and after that it was all commuting.”

Sean kisses the furrow between his brows and says, teasingly, “Poor baby. Should I take you to bed?”

His pretty boyfriend pulls back further, squints up at him suspiciously, and seems to consider. Sean waits with baited breath and considers the two possibilities for what happens next – with how tired White looks, it’s more likely that he’s about to beg off, and if he does Sean still gets to do one of his favourite things (he’ll absolutely spend White’s whole nap staring at him like a total creep) but he’ll have to postpone the main event.

White eventually decides to say, “You should,” and Sean’s delighted.

He obliges.

As he steers White into the bedroom, he’s pulling at White’s shirt with an explanation of, “I’ll help you undress – you’re too tired, it’s polite, right,” nonsense words to stop him from babbling his real plan right away.

“You’re so selfless,” White drily notes, stepping out of his suit trousers. “I’ll do the buttons.”

That’s code for don’t tear this shirt, it’s fancy, so Sean obediently waits for the buttons to be gone before pulling it off White’s arms and discarding it in the general direction of the laundry basket. He ends up close enough to White that he can whisper in his ear, “I’m thoughtful like that.”

White gives a little shiver at that, he knows Sean well enough to tell that there’s more in the thoughtful than just helping him get undressed.

As White, now almost bare, turns to Sean, Sean nods towards the bed and says, “Sit.”

“Not lying down? I’m tired,” White reminds him.

Sean says, “Not yet,” as he moves to the drawers beside their bed and retrieves step one of his plan, turning to White – good, he’s sitting – and holding up his prize. “You want?”

White’s gaze fixes on the ropes, and Sean can see his eyes go dark and wanting.

“Uh.”

Plan in motion, he steps over to where White sits on the edge of the bed and asks, “Why is this still on?”

He’s tugging at White’s briefs.

“Why are all yours still on?” White whines.

So Sean gets the fingers of both hands under White’s waistband and tugs down hard, releases White’s cock and keeps pulling until it’s nearly at his knees. Looking up, he meets White’s eyes head-on and raises his eyebrows; White has a very pretty flush starting to develop.

He’s probably not got the detached, commanding look he’s going for – every time he meets White’s eyes he feels the force of his infatuation hitting him like a truck, brutal and warm.

“Not yet,” he says again. “Stay still.”

Picking up rope number one, he climbs onto the bed and sits behind White, who’s trying to take off his glasses. Sean tugs his ear.

“I said stay still,” is his response to White’s yelp, “You need those.”

“I do?”

Sean hums, focusing the rest of his energy on winding the doubled-over rope around White’s chest – first halfway around once, and he skims his fingers over the skin touching the rope. It’s half to check he’s not going too tight, and half to hear the hitch in White’s breath.

Then halfway around the other way, switch directions and loop it over, it makes the rope look pretty (which makes it perfect for White) but isn’t too hard for someone whose attention is half on listening to their boyfriend trying to breathe steady. He keeps looping, and White keeps breathing.

Now he’s got his chest tied up, and he tugs on the part of the rope that leads away from White, making him fall backwards just a little – he catches himself, though. Sean leans forward and looks down over his chest, always a nice view and even better now… but best later, so he keeps going.

As he pulls the rope up and over White’s shoulder, he gets off the bed and comes back to standing in front of White.

“Still good?”

White bites his lip even redder and nods, so Sean has to kiss him.

He just goes for a quick one, slips White his tongue before pulling away and out of reach.

Then he carries on with the tying, hooking the rope through itself and letting the end drop back over White’s other shoulder, that one step closer to having him trapped.

When he looks down, White’s only half-hard.

Putting his hand on White’s hip, holding lightly and making no move to go closer to the goods, he asks, “You’re still tired?”

White shrugs, showing off the way his shoulder looks under the rope and attracting Sean’s firm attention there.

“You could be doing better,” White says casually.

That would normally get Sean to speed up, knock White over or climb on top of him – but Sean’s got plans.

He gets back behind White and, while he’s there, gets the second rope – he’s nearly run out.

With that, he fixes the two ends together and ties it back into the part he was working on before, making a star of rope and – his heart beats faster, a thrill goes through him – now, White’s tied up.

“I’ve got you now,” he whispers.

White giggles.

Sean bites his ear and hears the giggle fade into a gasp, and he kisses down from White’s ear to his neck, one arm looped around his waist and letting him stroke his hand over the ropes. He can feel White’s hand over his own as he kisses further down, towards White’s collarbone, and his face brushes rope – it’s White’s hand that reminds him, trying to drive his own down towards (he glances down) White’s now-hard cock.

Right, he’s not finished.

So he pulls away, pushes at White’s back until he’s sitting up again even though he makes little complaining noises that go right through Sean.

“Soon, baby,” he says.

Rope number three.

His plans were to do something long and pretty, but that was always kind of ambitious; when he’s off the bed, standing in front of White and holding the rope, White looks wrecked.

The harness is dark green – Sean had needed to replace his old ones after realising that he couldn’t use black ropes on White, and he liked the shade – and the contrast against White’s bare, pale chest, flushing (or marked) in the areas right next to the rope, it looks perfect. More perfect is White’s face, though, lips parted and eyes lidded.

White’s chest is heaving under Sean’s creation.

He really loves him.

Getting himself under control, he scraps the original plan – second-simplest knot he knows, Sean quickly grabs White’s wrists and fixes them together.

Skimming his finger under, he can feel White’s pulse – are their hearts beating in time? – as he checks, “Nothing too tight?”

White swallows, and Sean watches his neck flex as he shakes his head in response.

Very last touch, he ties the end of the final rope into the front of the harness, fixes it so White’s hands are snug under his chin. That’s the most important part, it’ll help with the surprise.

Sean grins and watches White swallow nervously in response.

The pillows are already in a nice stack for the next part, so Sean just nods towards them and says, “I need you over there, now.”

He’s tucked the ends of the rope into each other safely, there’s nothing for White to stumble over as he awkwardly shuffles backwards on the bed, but that doesn’t stop him from going slowly.

That’s fine, it gives him time to really take in the view.

White’s legs are only secured by his briefs, which move down past his knees as he shuffles backwards and onto the pillows. Letting his gaze travel up from there, Sean sees that White’s still just as hard, and his chest is just as red, but his face… he’s pouting, now.

No need to resist anymore.

Climbing onto the bed after him, Sean pulls White’s briefs the rest of the way off, tosses them to the side, and realises, “You’re still wearing socks.”

“You’re still wearing everything.”

Sean grins; White still doesn’t know there’s another surprise.

He can leave the socks, it’s fine.

After a second’s indecision, he decides to toss one leg over and straddle White’s legs, trapping him underneath Sean.

Now he really can’t move, and the look on his face says he knows it too.

Running his hands down over White’s chest, he lets them skim down towards his cock and watches it twitch. Then he runs them back up, more forceful now, pushing White down into the pillows and watching him sink into it.

White’s keyed up and desperate, so Sean uses his remaining thought power to think, Now’s best.

“Hey,” he says, “Watch this.”

That’s all the warning he gives before pulling his shirt up and over his head.

By the time it’s off, White’s seen.

Eyes intent, suddenly looking the most awake he’s been, White has to lick his dry lips before he can say in an almost-squeaking tone, “Did you get your nipples pierced?”

Sean leans over him so White can get a good look.

He sees-and-feels White straining and wriggling, his hands struggling to get within reach, so Sean sits back down onto White’s thighs.

“No touching,” he tells him. “Not until they heal.”

White makes another long whining noise, wriggling under him in a way Sean can’t not react to.

He wants to lean in and kiss him – but that would put them in reach, and the way White’s staring… oh, there’s a fix for that.

Taking White’s glasses off, he places them carefully on the bedside table just in reach from where he’s sitting – Sean was so smart to place the pillows here in advance, turned-on-Sean wouldn’t have thought of it – and says, “I love you.”

Then he moves back and away again, making White actually groan in frustration.

He looks so fucking good, tied up and desperate, that Sean’s actually kind of giddy with it. The time apart wasn’t worth it, could never be worth it – he knows White needs his job and stuff but he’d prefer to live in White’s pocket every second of every day, if he could – but at least he knows he put that time to good use.

Fuck, Sean should’ve bought a fucking camera.

Too late, now, so he leans down and says, “I think this is your best feature, such a pretty little cock,” just to feel White wriggle under him.

He tries to complain, “Sean,” but his tone’s so fucking wrecked, and then he’s saying, “Sean, please,” in a sweeter tone, and that sweet tone’s Sean’s weakness.

“So pretty,” he repeats, then licks a stripe up it.

White lets out a grunt like he’s been punched, and then another when Sean takes his head in his mouth, sucking and mouthing at it slowly.

He’s never bothered with much technique, at this, and he doesn’t need to with White – especially not when he’s like this. Sean bobs his head partway down and White makes a noise like Sean just invented sex, and he goes down deeper once, twice, a few more times, and – “Sean.”

So Sean pulls most of the way off and brings his hand, resting on White’s hip, closer, around the rest of his length, strokes – lightly, once, and that’s enough for White.

Carefully, he catches White’s cum in his mouth and, not really knowing he was going to do it until he is, he crawls up White’s body, feeling the ropes around White’s chest and wrists rough against his own now-bare chest, just aware enough that they brush but don’t catch his piercings, and it’s all sensation as he strains for White’s mouth.

White, straining back, opens his mouth for Sean’s tongue and his own cum.

They kiss, long and filthy, and Sean ruts against White’s thigh as they trade spit and cum back and forth. He can’t help himself, biting White’s lip to hear him make a noise, but then he dives back in, rutting harder and faster, reaching his own hand down and knowing he’s about to be just as quick as White to-

But White’s realised the flaw in Sean’s plan, and Sean lets out a yelp of his own as White’s still-bound hand, now in reach of his nipples, pinches once.

It hurts like a motherfucker, and of course it drives Sean over the edge like a bullet to the back.

Well, to the nipple.

When he comes back to himself, even as he starts to undo the ropes and admire the marks beneath them, he scolds White, “You weren’t supposed to touch.”

“Sorry,” White mumbles, half asleep and not helping at all with the untying, even with his wrists free. “Just until they’re healed, right? How long?”

Sean rolls him onto his side, starts undoing the knot at the back, and says, “I think she said half a year.”

“What?”

White sounds a lot more awake, now, and he twists up to look over his shoulder at Sean and ask, “Did you just say six months?”

Blinking, Sean says, “Four to six, I think it was.”

“I can’t touch your nipples for six months?”

Oh, that’s why he doesn’t make impulse decisions without White here.

Swallowing guiltily, Sean says, “It might only be four. You like them, though, right?”

He probably deserves the withering look he gets for that – White’s cum is still smeared around both their mouths.

#disappears into a cloud of smoke byeeeee #seanwhite #not me #offgun #robfic