Home Sweet Home (For Open and nota_fairytale 'verses where Adam's

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In the end, he decided against the brownstone and chose a flat in the East Village. It had always been somewhere he was more comfortable than the Upper East Side or any of the fancier neighborhoods. From the son of a whore in the slums of London, he'd risen to become a courtier at Versailles, then a gentleman of the South, easily mingling among the various strata of society, but the upper echelons always made him twitch with their hypocrisy. The aristocracy--even when born out of the American bourgeoisie--never changed.

The East Village had been gentrified during his imprisonment, until it was trendy and expensive, but it still kept more of a bohemian vibe, and part of him couldn't bear to actually move to Brooklyn.

The flat was in an old pre-war building on Avenue C. It had high ceilings, exposed brick, and hardwood floors throughout. The kitchen was small, but since he didn't cook much, it didn't much matter. A fireplace nestled in one wall in the living room, and the price came in solidly under one million dollars so he was pleased by that as well. He paid cash, took the keys, then set about having some of his things transferred from Montreal. The furnishings he picked out himself--reds and browns to compliment the tile and brick, a large sofa across from the fire, a comfortable chair by the window, a table and two chairs tucked in a nook. He turned one bedroom into a library, lining three walls with bookshelves that reached to the ceiling with a futon against the fourth wall for any guests. His bedroom he did in shades of blue and grey, with a feather bed and down comforters piled on top of a King size bed. He never wanted to sleep on a thin mattress on a cot again. If he didn't sleep much, it didn't matter. The bed would be comfortable, dammit.

When it was done, he was pleased, or as pleased he could be about being in the City. It wasn't a location Bob would think to look. They all knew about his money, they'd look somewhere more posh. But this, he decided, suited him just fine.

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"Do they have different things?" Adam asked, sliding his fingers over Hiro's exposed chest, his lips dipping to nibble on his neck.

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"Mmmhmm. British books, DVDs, comics. I haven't been there in a while. Oh!" He shivers as Adam hits a sensitive spot.

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"I may have to look at it myself...a bit of a taste of home." Adam's tongue ran over Hiro's collarbone, tasting another bit of home, in many ways.

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"Ken...sei," his voice hitches. "That's...so good." His fingers are ghosting over Adam's chest, skimming over his nipples. He takes one between his fingers, pinching a little.

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Adam shivered at the pinch, nipping at Hiro's skin sharply in response, then flashing him a mischievous smile. He was in a mood to play, with none of the darkness, the violence that normally clouded his eyes. "What's good? The British Amazon?" he teased, tongue soothing the bite he'd just made.

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"You...you're so good. Feel so good." His fingers trace Adam's lips. He loves this smile, especially the way it erases the sadness that seems to cling Adam. He can't help but smile back despite his panting. The fingers on Adam's nipple move to the other one, fingernails gently scratching.

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Adam moaned a bit at the renewed touch, losing his more playful train of thought at that. He pressed a kiss to Hiro's fingertips, then sucked one into his mouth, tongue curling around it, teeth lightly scraping over it.

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Hiro whimpers, wanting to feel his mouth everywhere on him. With a wicked grin, he flips Adam onto his back and straddles his hips.

"My turn," he growls.

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Adam looks up at him, eyebrow arching at the move, then smiles.

"All right...your turn..." There was the faintest, teasing challenge there.

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"Where are your handcuffs?" He's looking a little feral.

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Adam smirks and nods toward the nightstand. "In the drawer..."

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Hiro reaches over and opens the drawer. He dangles them in front of Adam's face. "I won't use these unless you want me to. I know you were imprisoned and I don't want you to feel like you have to oblige me just because. If you agree, I can give you the key so you can hold it or leave it in plain sight on the nightstand."

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The consideration takes Adam by surprise, and it shows in his eyes. It's been a very long time since anyone cared to ask such a question, to think how he might react. The cuffs weren't actually his favorite things to use on himself, but...

"I trust you," he said quietly. "Besides, if you wanted, I'm well aware that cuffs would never be how you'd permanently leave me restrained..." Though there was, still, a tingle of nerves down his spine.

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"Mmm, I'd just leave you on this wonderful bed," he grins. He kisses Adam deeply. "Let it hold you here until I get home from work." He gently kisses Adam's wrists. "If you don't want this, please tell me."

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"I want it," he says returning the kiss. "Do what you will, carp..."

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He closes one cuff on his left wrist, making certain that it's not tight at all, then threads it through the headboard before locking the other. He holds up the key so Adam sees it. "In your hand or on the nightstand?"

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"The nightstand is fine," Adam says, watching him, and while he's a little tenser than he was, there's a coiling of pleasure in him that is a trifle unexpected, a breathless anticipation that isn't uncomfortable at all.

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Hiro puts the key on the nightstand and smiles down at Adam. There's fire in his eyes as they rake over Adam's body, trying to figure out where he wants to start. His fingers start at Adam's collarbone, drift down his torso, until he gets down to where his thighs rest on Adam's hips. He leans over Adam and kisses his lips gently, belying the heat in his gaze.

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Adam kisses him back, just as soft, gently yielding, cautiously exploring being on this side of things after so long without trusting anyone with even this much wilfully given up control.

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Hiro's lips move down his ear where he nibbles, then nips a bit. Then his teeth travel down his neck, his tongue then laving to soothe the sting as he moves onto Adam's shoulder. With a small growl, he latches onto the muscle there, raising quite the hickey. He tastes blood, stops biting and licks gently.

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Adam moans at the bite, wriggling under him at the sharp pain that blossoms. His breath catches, both as he feels skin break, and then another whimper escapes when he feels it heal. It's faster now than it was in Japan, but the sensation is the same, making him tremble all over.

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

The blood heals, renews and Hiro feels a little more invigorated. His tongue traces his collarbone, then he nuzzles Adam's armpit, breathing in the scent of fear, arousal, exertion - sharp and musky. He moans softly as he drinks it in, before his tongue moves to Adam's nipple, the flat of his tongue caressing it until it begins to peak. His teeth encourage it to harden further.

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Adam moans again, arching a bit toward Hiro's mouth, letting his arms tug just a bit at the restraints, swallowing when he can't pull free, letting the touch of wariness heighten the pleasure that sweeps over his body at each touch of Hiro's tongue.

[powered-otaku.livejournal.com]

Hiro's nails scratch against Adam's ribs, abraiding his skin a bit as his tongue travels from the one nipple to the other. His eyes are closed, savoring the sensation of Adam's skin as his teeth close over the nub with the smallest of nips.

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Breath catching, Adam tries to hold it as he moves on the bed, hips rocking for some friction, some contact through fabric. The nip makes him moan, breath sliding out, wondering just how he'll be able to bear being on this side of things without breaking. Begging.