The Art of Discipline

It'd been a week since the incident at Lou's apartment, and now, standing outside his door once again, David was wondering what the hell had made him come back here. He hadn't spoken to or seen Lou since he'd left that night; he wasn't even sure if he'd be home. Part of him hoped that he wouldn't be. Twice since he'd left earlier that morning he'd turned around and started home, but somehow he could not bring himself to just forget the whole thing and ignore Lou all together. He'd tried to talk himself out of it when he left, on both rides over, when he crossed the threshold into Lou's building, on the way up in the elevator, with every step he took down the hall, and now as he stood outside the door staring at the worn numbers screwed in to the door's surface. He figured if he hadn't managed to talk himself out of it by now, he was never going to.

It took him a long time to muster the courage to knock on the door. The hallway was empty once again, and he was glad for that, not wanting an audience for this. He wondered if he'd be able to go through with this. He had half a mind to forget the whole thing and hurry back to the elevator before anybody could answer. He was about to do just that when he heard the familiar click of the locks being undone. He steeled himself, trying to look nonchalant.

"Oh, it's you," Lou said plainly when he'd opened the door. "I didn't expect to see you back so soon."

'You shouldn't have expected to see me back at all,' David thought, but he said nothing. A long moment of silence passed before Lou finally sighed and stepped to the side, pushing the door open.

"You can come in if you want," he said curtly, gesturing to the room. It did not look much different in the daytime, for the curtains were all still closed, the only light being the pale glow of the florescent lamps in the kitchen. The TV was on, but the sound was turned off, and David was not sure that Lou had been watching it at all. The air still held the artificial scent of perfumes, but it was layered over with the distinct odour of pot smoke, faded but still detectible.

The familiarity of the room took the edge off David's apprehension, and he stepped inside tentatively, hands pressed unassumingly into his pockets. He was dressed considerably more conservatively today as compared to his last visit, in baggy khaki trousers and a crisp, off-white linen shirt, but he'd also gone so far as to put on make-up before he left, proof enough that he still cared about looking good for Lou. He made up for it, though, by keeping all the buttons of his shirt tightly fastened.

They sat on the tatty couch, David making a point to sit as far from Lou as possible, fixing his stare to the floor. Another period of silence passed, then Lou said awkwardly, "You want a beer or something?"

"No, thanks," David said primly. He wondered what the hell he was doing here. He was still pissed off about what had happened, and yet here he was. He wondered if Lou was angry at him for leaving the other day. 'He's got some fucking nerve, if he is,' David thought, getting mad all over again.

Something touched the back of his neck, and he jumped, stirred from his private thoughts. He looked up and realized Lou had come over to his end of the couch and was softly petting his hair. David glared at him. Lou took the hint and backed off a bit, now rubbing him lightly on the back. "I guess you were pretty upset the other day," he said quietly.

"I was," David said, slightly snappy. Thinking about it was making him angry again. But Lou's soft rubbing on his back was terribly disarming. 'Damn it,' David thought. 'It's so hard to stay mad at him.'

"I didn't mean to scare you," Lou said. "I guess I should have warned you first."

"I wasn't scared," David informed him, which was a flat-out lie, but there was no way he was going to admit to it now. "But that was fucked up, what you did. You could have fucking killed me."

"It wasn't loaded, Davey," Lou said, and almost laughed, but caught himself when the redhead gave him a sharp glance. He edged a little closer, so that their thighs were pressed together. "I wouldn't do that to you. You know that, don't you?"

David avoided his eyes, not sure what to say. The gun hadn't been loaded - would he have begged Lou like that, if he had known? It frightened him to realize he wasn't sure. Still, he'd never been turned on like that before... Lou knew how to please him. He hated to admit it, but Lou seemed to know exactly what made him tick.

Lou's fingers were slowly making their way onto David's leg, and he closed his eyes as they smoothed over the inside of his thigh. He wondered what he ought to do. He wanted to go back to the dark bedroom, to breath in the smell of Lou all around him and feel the heat of him deep inside himself, but he could not bring himself to give in, not yet. He edged away, just slightly.

This time, however, Lou did not take the hint. He moved his hand from David's thigh to slowly begin undoing the buttons of his shirt, fingers ghosting lightly over the smooth white flesh beneath. He stroked his thumb over one of David's nipples, bringing a soft sigh from the younger man who tilted his head back just slightly, forgetting to be aloof as pleasure tingled over his senses.

"You like that?" Lou said huskily, knowing full well that he did. David nodded a little. Lou leaned over, pressing a light kiss to the corner of David's mouth. He pushed himself down off the couch to kneel on the floor, moving up between David's spread thighs so that he was almost eye-level with him, and undid the last few buttons of the shirt, laying it open. His tongue teased David's nipples, licking across the cool pale skin of his chest, his teeth scraping now and then against the soft skin and making the other man shiver. David brought one hand up to feel Lou's mass of shaggy, curly hair, tangling his fingers in it as the older man's tongue moved steadily lower towards his crotch. Lou nibbled at the softness of David's flat belly, sending jolts of ecstasy up the man's back, but he stopped before he reached what David had thought would be his final destination. Instead of going any further he got up and held out a hand, prompting David to get off the couch with him. "Come on," he said quietly. "Let's go in the back."

David couldn't imagine what they could do back there that they couldn't do right here, but he decided another few moments of waiting wouldn't kill him, so he took Lou's hand and got up, following him once again down the dark hall towards the bedroom. The familiar sight brought back the remembrance of last week's goings-on, but he pushed the thought from his mind and concentrated instead on the heat between his legs.

The bedroom was darker than the living room, but today a lamp on top of the bookcase was lit, throwing gold light and deep shadows over the room. When they'd gotten inside, Lou shut the door behind them, sealing out the last of the light. David was beginning to feel a bit nervous again, but he soon forgot about that when Lou took him in his arms and kissed him, undoing the buttons of his pants as he did. David could not reach Lou's fly, so instead he put his arms around the American's waist, giving his ass a soft squeeze. The baggy khakis dropped unheeded to the floor, and David now found his crotch pressed tightly against Lou's, separated only by the thin veneer of his underwear and the fabric of Lou's pants - leather again, hot and slick to the touch. David could feel Lou's hard member pressing through the confining tightness of his pants, his own cock rising to meet it.

Lou ended the kiss abruptly, moving his hands from David's body to strip himself of his own clothes. He hadn't bothered with underwear, and his thighs and cock glistened with a slight sheen of sweat. David, obviously enjoying what he saw, quickly discarded his own underwear and leaned in for another embrace, but Lou stopped him.

"Not just yet," he said with just a hint of a smile. "Let's play a little game." He gave David a quick kiss and then moved around him towards the bed.

David turned to watch him uncertainly. He wasn't sure he wanted to play a game that Lou had come up with. Still - the temptation was more than he could resist. He decided to go along with it.

"Get down on your knees," Lou told him, pointing one black lacquered finger towards the floor. David obeyed. "That's right," Lou said, nodding his approval. He reached under the bed, tugging out a coil of rope.

David immediately grew wary. "No, Lou," he started, "I don't want - "

"Ssh," Lou interrupted. "Don't be scared. It'll be fun." He crouched down, drawing out the rope. "You'll like it."

David hesitated. He knew that, if he wanted to, he could get up and leave right now. He stared at the rope in Lou's hands, thought of the humiliation he'd experienced the last time he was here - and of the gut-deep, inexplicable arousal he'd felt when Lou had torn those whimpering pleas from his throat. Against his better judgement, he said, "Do it."

Lou smiled. "If that's what you want."

Moving behind him, Lou pulled David's arms around behind his back. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and David did not resist, despite a nagging voice of doubt at the back of his brain. He could feel the rough coils of the rope lacing around his bare wrists, quite tight. It hurt, just a bit. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes, pushing the memories of last week's capers from his mind.

To his surprise, he felt the rope being twined around his ankles now and he opened his eyes, turning his head to try to get a look at the other man. "What are you doing?" he wanted to know, the worry at the edges of his brain starting to move to the forefront.

"Ssh," Lou said again, but gave no further explanation. David felt more nervous. He hadn't expected Lou to bind his legs as well - it would make it nearly impossible to get up now. He was completely at Lou's mercy, and the dark glint in the American's eye made him think that that was not a position he would like to be in.

But then, Lou did look terribly sexy standing there, leaning on one leg with his hip bent like that and his cock already stiffening. David could feel his own flesh responding to the sight, stirring between his bent legs despite how tight the binds were on his wrists and ankles - or perhaps because of it.

Lou looked him over, as if he were observing a painting and trying to decide where to put the finishing stroke. He nodded to himself, smiling just slightly. "Yes," he said slowly. "I think that'll do just fine." That said, he walked casually around behind David, out of sight. David could hear him opening the drawers of the small chest near the bed, and he wondered what Lou was going to produce. He was more than a little apprehensive now. "What are you doing?" he asked again, trying to crane his neck to see what Lou was up to, but he couldn't catch a glimpse at this angle.

Lou didn't answer. Absurdly, he'd actually begun to hum to himself. It was a happy tune, one David didn't recognize, but he couldn't help but find it a bit disturbing. The whole situation was beginning to feel like it had come straight from a horror movie. He twisted around again, straining for a glimpse, but it was then that Lou, still humming, came swaggering back into his line of vision. He was holding the pistol in his right hand.

David immediately balked at the all-too-familiar sight of the gun. "No, Lou, I don't want to use that," he protested, squirming in his binds, but in his position he could go nowhere.

"No more talking," Lou snapped, the tune he had been humming dropping abruptly. He now looked very dark and serious, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes, casting deep shadows beneath them.

David could already tell he did not like where this was going. Behind his back, he tugged slightly at the ropes around his wrist to see if he could loosen them at all. They refused to budge. He looked up at Lou, steeling himself, trying to sound authoritative despite his rather compromising position. "I think you better untie me," he told him.

Lou did no such thing. Instead he smacked David on the cheek - hard. "I told you to be quiet," he snarled, the echo of the sharp report of skin on skin ringing through the small room.

David grit his teeth, determined not to let the pain of the slap show on his face. He glared up at the man standing over him. He decided then and there that he would not give in to Lou's tactics this time. He hated him. He hated himself for coming back here, for letting this continue - but most of all for enjoying it. That was unforgivable. But at the moment Lou was an easy target for his anger, and he glowered poisonously at the other man as if his gaze alone would somehow strike down the dark-haired boy as if by Divine Intervention.

None such happened, though, and instead Lou began tracing slow steps around David's crouching form, twirling the gun on his index finger in a way that might have looked a bit comical if it wasn't so unnerving. "Well, well, well," Lou drawled. "What is it gonna be this time, Davey? Are you going to be a good boy and do as I say, or are you going to be naughty again?" He was now standing directly in front of David, arms crossed, the pistol pointed towards the wall. His blacked-out eyes looked cavernous in the dim light, his lips - which were unpainted today, David realized - drawn into a mocking smirk.

A tremble of fury rattled through David's bones, this time without the rush of arousal. He regretted ever coming here. He could not believe he'd actually been stupid (or horny) enough to let Lou tie him up. He wished desperately to be free of his binds, to be on his feet and thrashing Lou beyond all recognition. The ropes dug into his wrists, cruelly reminding him of his helplessness. He did not answer Lou this time - instead he tilted back his head and spat at him.

The rebellious gesture made him feel exquisitely good for one long, glorious moment, but before he could compute the movement itself Lou had cracked the gun across his face, so hard that his head snapped to one side, blood gushing forth from his nose and lip. The salty liquid filled his mouth and throat, overwhelming his senses, and he choked and coughed bloody saliva onto the carpet next to where he sat. Before he could catch his breath Lou was dragging his head back up by his hair, stooping to engulf his mouth in a violent kiss, his tongue forcing its way into David's wet mouth and mixing the taste of stale cigarettes and cinnamon imperials with the rusty taste of blood. David gave a muffled protest but Lou ignored him, continuing the savage kiss even as the blood running from David's nose pooled and smudged onto his own skin.

David was desperate for breath, but trying to breath through his nostrils was useless - it only brought a rush of blood into his throat and sinuses, threatening to gag him. When he was almost certain his chest would implode from lack of air Lou finally broke the kiss, both of them now breathing heavily, David bent down bleeding and salivating on the floor while Lou stared down at him with an unreadable expression, his mouth smeared with the other man's blood.

"You're so pretty when you bleed," Lou said quietly, with surprising tenderness. "You know that?"

David didn't answer, and instead coughed raggedly, still trying to catch his breath. A long moment passed before he suddenly became aware of Lou jerking and tugging at the binds around his wrists and ankles. He swallowed hard, trying to hold back the nausea that twisted his guts as the blood ran down his throat. "What are you doing?" he managed to choke out.

"That's enough for tonight," Lou said softly. He pulled the ropes free from around David's thin wrists and started on the ones around his ankles.

David just sat there, stupefied. He did not know what to do or say. The whole event had him flabbergasted. Why would Lou tie him up and hit him like that, only to let him go minutes later? With his newly freed hand he reached around and wiped some of the blood off his face.

It was then that Lou bent and scooped David off the floor, looping his hands around his legs and shoulders, cradling him against his own body. David stared at him in utter shock, too amazed to struggle. The blood that had smeared onto Lou's face had begun to dry, looking abnormally dark in the low light, like smears of ink.

Lou carried him over to the bed and laid him out on it. David was amazed at Lou's sudden change of behaviour. It had him more worried now than he had been when Lou had taken out the gun earlier. The dark haired man leaned over him, and David flinched, expecting another blow, but instead Lou kissed him gently, his tongue sliding nimbly across David's own with none of the bestial roughness of before. David did not try to break the kiss this time - he was too absorbed in tasting the sensual softness of Lou's mouth. For a moment he forgot the scratch of blood in the back of his throat, the throbbing in his jaw from where Lou had hit him, the horrible humiliation at being bound and helpless on the dirty floor. He gave a quiet moan into Lou's mouth, not of pain this time but of enjoyment, and at this soft sound Lou broke the kiss, smiling down at him, his lips now appearing to be painted dark red.

'You're so pretty when you bleed. You know that?' Lou's words echoed in his mind, and his brain seemed to take a long moment to wrap around the idea that that was his blood painting Lou's lips. The thought made him feel bitterly cold, a sort of feeling like stepping off a kerb too fast, but he soon forgot it when he felt the touch of Lou's deft fingers, now slick with Vaseline. He sighed at the caress, tilting his head back against the pillow, eyes shut to take in only the feeling of the other man's touch. It was then that Lou slid inside that velvet softness, with none of the violent roughness of the last time, his hands moving to slide over David's smooth, supple thighs, grazing against his cock. David shivered at the caress, arching his back, his legs drawn around Lou's waist, binding them tightly together. The movement of Lou's hips and hands were bringing him closer and closer to his climax, and in his mind's eye he saw himself again crouching on the floor, hands tied behind his back and blood dripping from his nose and mouth, and he imagined Lou was fucking him like this, holding him down to the rough floor as he violently tore helpless cries from his throat. He had that image in his mind as he came, spilling against the soft curve of Lou's belly, a vague whisper of the man's name on his lips.