Hello Daddy... (CHARMIE)

Ch6

Timmy rolled his shoulders, walking to the piano and trying to take deep breaths. This would be easy; play something and play it well, get something he wanted in return.

He was a fucking music major, for god's sake, he knew how to play and play well under pressure. That was, like, his entire life. And honestly as soon as he got close enough to the beauty to basically smell the polish coming off it, he kind of forgot that Armie was even in the room.

He was having a fucking moment with the piano, okay, no one could blame him for that. He literally had had wet dreams about this piano (okay, he's had wet dreams about being fucked on one of these pianos but that was like basically the same thing) and he wasn't going to let something like fantasizing about sucking Armie off ruin this experience for him.

He sat on the bench, running his fingers almost reverently over the hood of the piano, lifting it and actually fucking whimpering when he saw the keys, gleaming back at him, crooked little black and white grin, and he ghosted his fingertips over them, shaking his head when he heard Armie laugh behind him, glancing over at him and grinning.

"You can mock all you want, but this is an experience for me, okay, and I'm going to fucking enjoy it," he said, fingers pressing down softly to form a simple C chord, moving to G, E, Armie behind him still laughing.

"You can have all the moments you want, I'm just wondering if that's what you sound like when you're being fucked," Armie said, and Timmy actually choked, his fingers falling clumsily on the keys, discordant.

"You can't just say shit like that," he said, gaping at him a little and feeling himself harden again in his pants, and Armie shrugged, looking smug.

"Pretty sure I can do what I want, can't I baby?" Timmy swallowed hard, putting his fingers back on the keys.

"Yes, daddy." Taking a breath, he rolled his shoulders again, sitting up straight and putting his fingers on the keys, thinking for a minute before smirking to himself and starting to play.

He flowed into it naturally, a piece he'd played numerous times, but slowing it down a little, making it a little more dramatic, and he bit his tongue at the corner of his mouth, waiting for Armie to figure out what he was playing.

It only took until the first hit of the chorus, and then he heard Armie come up behind him, hand clamping down on the back of his neck, and Timmy stopped playing, tipping his head back, and blinking, fluttering his eyelashes under his hair innocently. "Something wrong?"

"Rihanna, Timmy? Really?" Armie sounded like he was fighting amusement, and Timmy could see the twitch of his mouth, and he just shrugged, singing softly under his breath.

"Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it—" he gasped as Armie's hand moved up to fist in his hair, pulling his head back at an awkward angle, his mouth falling open from the force, and he locked eyes with Armie, licking over his lower lip. "You just said I had to play nicely, daddy, you didn't say what you wanted me to play."

"You're fucking insufferable, you know that?" Armie asked, the smile winning for a moment as one corner of his mouth quirked up, and Timmy tried to nod against the hand in his hair, hissing as it pulled harder and his eyes fluttered closed for a moment, Armie humming behind him.

"So you like that, huh, baby?" He crooned, doing it again, making Timmy whimper and arch up off the bench, fingers once again slamming on the keys, fumbling over notes in a messy crash of sound. Trying to keep his hands on the keys because, well, Armie hadn't told him he could move them.

He opened his eyes, craned them back to keep an eye on Armie from the angle he was being held at, and whined when he saw Armie's hand moving at the front of his pants, trying to twist to face him, but Armie just fisted his hand in Timmy's hair tighter, twisting the strands between his fingers and making Timmy moan.