La Maison 2: Differences (Complete: BDSM mxm)

March 26

A/N: Been a while since we heard from Landon. It's so fluffy.

Landon

I'm overdue a talk. 'The' talk, I guess. I invited Nikki over for dinner; something I've done more than once since we met. We don't operate as Dom and sub when he comes to my home, something that I'd probably claim to be due to me not having a playroom in my apartment, if anyone asked. Thank God they haven't, because it's a weak excuse.

It's not that I'm ashamed of wanting something on top of a submissive, something more. Some of the Doms are so tied up in the lifestyle that's all they ever want – someone who will perpetually obey everything, who will never question. Not many though. Even the ones who I thought might – like Frankie – are seeing better fulfilment from a more balanced partnership. And I always knew that it wouldn't be enough for me.

Until now, though, I've simply never met anyone I wanted something more with. I like submissives who buy into the lifestyle, but also I've fooled around with enough guys who weren't official, fully trained subs to know I don't need someone like that. It's mainly because of my friendship with Frankie, and the club, that I end up with perfectly trained subs anyway. The path of least resistance. And I'm more thankful than ever for that, now.

When I answer the door to Nikki I know he can see the lust in my eyes, because it's reflected in his as he leans up to kiss me, wrapping an arm around my neck and nibbling at my lower lip.

"Missed you," he murmurs into my mouth and I show him I feel the same by deepening our kiss, tasting every part of his coffee-flavored mouth.

"Come sit, baby. I made Ribollita, I hope you're hungry."

"Yum, yum, yum," he grins and bounces to his seat, gazing up at me with wide blue eyes as I serve his soup and place oven-warmed bread on the table.

"What?"

"You're something else, Landon. You know that, right?"

"Coming from you that's definitely a compliment. Now, eat."

"How was your roster?" he asks through a mouthful of bread.

"Manners," I reprimand, though of course I'm grinning.

"Sorry, Sir," he grins back, "it's the way." He makes a somehow very 'Eastern European' moue that makes me laugh properly.

"It was stressful, baby, but being here with you makes me feel lighter," I admit, reaching for his hand, which he rests softly in mine. I just had a two-week night shift roster on the Pediatric Oncology ward, plus extra shifts in Pediatric Clinical Psychology and...it's a lot. Physically and mentally. Even more so because I haven't seen Nikki often during that time, other at the club, and then we're so caught up in the eroticism of the D/s we'd barely share more than half a dozen words and he's always on his best behavior. There's a tautness, a desperation, between us then, and I enjoy it, but I enjoy this even more.

"You think you could use some control back, Sir?" His eyes are huge and innocent and I love watching him change before my eyes, putting on the submissive cloak that he wears so well.

"You always know what I need, beautiful."

"Let me care for you, Sir." He slides elegantly off his chair, his hands behind his back, pressing his face against my upper thigh. I can feel the sharp line of his jaw against the muscle on the inside of my thigh, massaging as he mouths the fabric by my cock. "Take control of my mouth, Sir," he requests, oh so sweetly, and who am I to turn him down?