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[duke_of_illusions]

It's an early evening, back in the club. Barma has sent Al on his own, to make friends, to try something new.

Dodo is a breath away.

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[al_truism]

It makes him shiver, and he has to stop himself from asking him to do it again.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Or there's the down one-"

Starting on his shoulders, sting dragging slowly down his back.

"Go brace up on the post, boy."

[al_truism]

"... sir."

He takes a deep breath and goes, pulling his hair over one shoulder and gripping the post.

[duke_of_illusions]

He starts, then- with slow, warming blows, letting the leather drag and shift over Al's skin like a buttery caress.

It doesn't even hurt, the way Gerard plays.

[al_truism]

He shivers and relaxes into it, tilting his head forward, breathing deeply. It's just enough to wake up his nerves, to make him feel it.

[duke_of_illusions]

It escalates, so slowly it almost isn't. Until suddenly he's really, really hitting him.

[al_truism]

The sting, the impact, the pain all seems to meld together in a blur of sensation.

He could swear the skin is gone. Al twists, keens softly.

[duke_of_illusions]

He stops. Steps in, and runs his hands over Al's burning back.

"You can't see me, but that was me hitting you as hard as I could, little thing."

[al_truism]

After the feeling, the touch of his hands is almost an overload. He's breathing hard, trembling like a fawn.

"... oh," is all he manages.

[duke_of_illusions]

He experiments for a few more minutes, rubbing, dragging his nails up and down.

"Good kid."

[al_truism]

The nails just feel like heat, like itching a terrible scratch. He groans out loud, all filter chipped away.

[duke_of_illusions]

The scratching turns into a deep grab, pinch, twist. Fuck.

[al_truism]

He cries out, loud and breathless and writhing. Sensory overload.

[duke_of_illusions]

He lets go, and then punches him, hard in the shoulder, timed on the exhale so he doesn't wind. A deep, vibrating fuck.

[al_truism]

The exhale turns into a small scream, and it shocks him enough to stagger him against the post. He obviously hadn't been expecting anything like that.

[duke_of_illusions]

He smiles and then helps him up, pulling him close for a big, protective bear-hug.

"Good boy."

[al_truism]

It takes him a few moments to breathe, but he melts into the hold, suddenly almost in tears.

Adrenaline.

[duke_of_illusions]

"Hey baby."

Snuggling him closer, moving to go sit down.

"You doing okay?"

[al_truism]

"Yes, yes, I just-"

He moves his hands, trying to articulate, ineffective.

"Needed that. Thank you."

[duke_of_illusions]

Al gets pulled into his warm lap, with a cuddle and purr.

[al_truism]

Al leans against his chest and manages to slowly calm down, remembering to breathe and focus, to remember.

"Am I very bruised?"

[duke_of_illusions]

"Can't tell yet. Depends how often he works your back."

Grinning.

[al_truism]

"If I am, I can just see the admiring smirk on his face," he tells him with a laugh.

[duke_of_illusions]

"What's he like, as a top?"

He asks, curiously.

"I've only ever had him bottom."

[al_truism]

"Meticulous. It's often more psychological than physical. He's a master at making sure I feel off-balance, vulnerable, and controlled. He plans absolutely everything- and plans for all the disruptions of those plans, every eventuality. He's not often surprised, but when he is, he enjoys it more than most."

He smiles, warmly. "He knows me, the way nobody else ever has. He knows what I can take, when to check me, and exactly what to do to calm me down enough to take more. During aftercare and day-to-day, he's one of the most affirming, loving, affectionate people I know, and I'm absolutely head over heels in love with him."