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Howard TJ Moon, Man Of Action (yes he did think of that in capital letters, what of it?!), was worried.
He had been Vince's personal - colon - explorer for nearly two years now. And yes Sir, thank you very much Sir, he would like to think during that time Vince had been just as happy as he was.
Still he felt a creeping sense of unease settling over him like – well, like a blanket of brown corduroy.
He loved Vince; Vince loved him. Yet Howard constantly worried that he was neither shiny nor beautiful enough to hold his Little Man's attention. (Capital letters for important things, always.)
Everyone knew that the Moon only hung around so much because he had found himself magnetically drawn towards the mirrorball suit, and was now in orbit around Vince. Someone so sparkly and pretty caused permanent shifts in nature, this was a proven scientific fact, yes Sir.
In Howard's head, at the very least.
And how could he ever hope – nay, dare to dream that Vince would be happy to settle for him? Love was great; loving and being in love with Vince was brilliant.
But was Howard – he winced as he thought of the word in context with himself – sexy enough to captivate Vince for the rest of their lives together? Their sex life was amazing; but even though they were the same age (YES THEY WERE) Howard was terrified that one day Vince would look at his naked Northern body and discover he didn't very much care to cast his big blue eyes in that direction any longer, no thank you, you total berk.
As it so happened, their anniversary fell on Valentine's Day. Howard had been squeezing his juicy-jazz-filled braincells into thinking how he could shake things up a bit. Something different from the usual card; flowers; chocolates; subscription to National Geographic. (In hindsight, that last one hadn't gone as well as expected, but how was Howard to know that sunshine people were literally allergic to the very words the magazine contained?! He'd had to strip Vince naked, throw him in the bath, and soak him in a pulp made from every copy of Cheekbone he could find.)
Now, with just a week to go, Howard was beginning to panic. He kept breaking out into a cold sweat at the thought that if he didn't come up with the goods, Vince would start to drift away from him. Even those little beads of sweat rolled out wearing his patented expression for Slavic Fear.
He needed to do something personal; something that Vince would realise was from the heart and created just for him. One of a kind...Howard's eyes opened wide(ish) as the thought struck him. Something personal, something handmade! He was going to make Vince his own Valentine's card.
Oh yes Sir, the fire was lit now. Never let it be said that Howard Moon doesn't know how to keep things interesting; he'd draw Vince his own – damn! Howard knew that he wasn't particularly artistic. That was Vince's area of expertise; he was the Shoreditch Sketcher, whereas Howard was more your Derbyshire Deep-Thinker.
No mind; Howard was going to do this and prove to Vince how much he meant to him. He would scale the giddy heights of artistic expression and plant his own flag in the top. Oh yes Sir, there was a hot slice of card action winging its way towards his beloved.
Howard scrabbled around their room to try and find suitably artistic items with which to adorn his creation. Vince always had plenty of colouring pencils/glitter/card/pens/crayons/paint, so that was no problem. He rooted through the wardrobe to see if there was anything he had missed; pushing his hand towards the very bottom right hand corner, he felt a small canvas bag with something soft sticking out of the top. Grasping hold, he pulled out a peacock feather; he could have sworn for a minute he'd heard something clanking in there, but... shaking his head, he looked down at the feather in his hand. Perfect! He could use that on the front of the card, it would look much better than anything he could attempt to draw.
It seemed vaguely familiar, that feather. Maybe Vince had kept it to use in his eternal quest for global accessorisation.
Howard set to work.
A mere three hours later, his face covered in spots of glitter and streaks of felt tip, Howard proudly examined his handiwork. The peacock feather was glued onto the front of the card, the tips accentuated with silver sparkles. Above it, Howard had written, “You Are My Chosen One” in his neatest handwriting, using a different colour for each letter. Inside the card, Howard had put:-
To my beautiful Little Man,
My simple truth is that I love you more than cream poetry, jazz, and Danish avant-garde cinema put together. I've got so much to give, and I want to give it all to you. My chosen one, for now and for ever,
Your Howard.
XOXO
Howard mentally punched the air with glee. He'd done it! He caught sight of himself in the mirror as he jigged around the room with the card in his hands. Noticing the mess he had made of his face and their room, he thought it best to tidy everything away and then have a shower. He didn't want Vince knowing about the card until the very day itself. Howard slid open the drawer in his bedside cabinet and gently placed the card inside.
Half an hour later, while Howard was in the shower, Vince came home from his shopping expedition with Leroy. He was a lot earlier than he thought he would be, but shopping wasn't as much fun any more if Howard wasn't there to tell him how good he looked in everything he tried on. Leroy had made a half-hearted attempt for the first two or three hours but then seemed to run out of interest and spent all his time texting on his phone. Vince thought it best to call it a day and come home for a nice cup of tea and some sofa-based cuddles. Sofa-based cuddles were some of the best kind, nestled against his big northern bear.
Vince could hear Howard be-bopping over the sound of the running water as he passed the bathroom. He threw his shopping bags on their bedroom floor, and flopped onto the bed. Maybe he should join Howard; after all, he had put himself through a hard day's shopping and looking this good was never easy. He looked for a hairband on his bedside cabinet; he much preferred to keep his hair out of his eyes while sharing a shower so he could look up at Howard while he dropped to his knees and...
...frantically searching, he looked in his drawer and then leant over to Howard's side of the bed to see if he'd left one there. Opening the drawer to Howard's cabinet, he found the card. Not initially sure what it was, he took it out and read it.
A huge grin broke out on Vince's pointy face. Using that feather, and that exact phrase...Howard had hidden desires as much as Vince, it seemed. He leapt up, ran to the wardrobe, and pulled out the canvas bag, giggling when it clinked as he threw it onto the bed next to the card. There was no way he was going to be able to wait a week for what Howard was suggesting.
Right. Shower time. Forget sofa-based cuddles, Howard was about to get the most awesome blow job of his life!
Vince had left a dishevelled Howard panting against the side of the shower cubicle while he got himself dry and back into the bedroom in record time. Rifling through the canvas bag on the bed, he pulled out a black, tight-fitting shirt that was lightly scattered with silver sparkles on the shoulders. He also pulled out a pair of white, tight-fitting but gently-flared trousers; dressing himself, he then emptied the remaining items from the bag onto the bed.
A loincloth, a set of manacles (plus key), and some lube. Just looking at them made Vince huff out a little moan of anticipation. As he put the key for the manacles into his pocket, he “accidentally” brushed his hand over the front of his trousers. Wearing no underwear meant his cock felt much more sensitive, and Vince had to physically stop himself from palming his hand over the area before he got carried away. He shuffled the items further back on the bed and then laid down in front of them, facing the door. He wanted to make sure that he was the first thing Howard noticed when he walked into the room. Propping himself up on his elbow, he waved the home-made Valentine's card in front of his face, delicately stroking it over the angular planes.
Howard came through the door, adjusting the towel around his waist. As he looked up, he was greeted by the sight of Vince slowly lowering the card so his eyes just peeped over the top. He then brushed it over the rest of his face, dropping it lower in tiny increments in a surprisingly seductive manner.
Howard was initially disappointed that his carefully concealed gift had been found, but this was soon forgotten as he registered the look of lust on Vince's face. Scanning his body, he realised he recognised the clothes he was wearing. Weren't they – there was a loud 'kerching' as a penny hurtled to the ground in front of him. The clothes. The feather. The Chosen One.
“Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard... Howard? You're not in a jazz trance now, are you?! HOWARD?!”
Howard shook his head, swallowing hard before saying, “No, Little Man. I'm simply looking at you. Yes Sir, drinking in the sight...”
“Howard. Shut up.”
“Whoa there, card-seeking-missile! You can't tell me - “
“Oh I think you'll find that I can, Howard. After all, I am The Chosen One.” Vince drifted the card over his face again. “And you are my slave.”
Howard's cock twitched beneath the towel he was wearing as the whole atmosphere in the room shifted.
“Come here, slave.”
Howard felt as if he was walking through treacle. Languid, slow steps which brought him ever closer to the bed.
“Now take off that towel,” Vince reached behind himself and thrust a small scrap of cloth at Howard, “and put this on.”
Howard shifted a little uncomfortably as he dropped the towel and fastened the loincloth around his waist. “Little Man, this chamois leather doesn't leave much to the imagination.”
“Did I say you could talk, slave?! And that's the whole point, I don't want to just imagine this any more.”
Vince looked up and met Howard's gaze. Speaking in a softer voice, he said “Howard, are you alright with this? I mean, your Valentine's card is well genius and I LOVE it. Not as much as I love you, of course, and when I saw what you'd written, and the feather – well, you've got me all hot and bothered thinking about being in the desert with you that time. I wanted to grab hold of you then and kiss you, but we wasn't a couple so I couldn't, even though I really wanted to. Now we're together, I want to show you how fucking sexy you are. You're beautiful to me, Howard.”
Howard's response was something akin to, “Fneurgle.” He dropped to his knees in front of Vince and bent his head. Keeping his arms by his sides, he kept his gaze on the floor as he said, “Tell me what to do, My Chosen One.”
Vince felt the heat coil outwards from his belly, stretching its tendrils to every corner of his being. He grabbed the manacles, fastening them around Howard's wrists. The chain between them was long enough that he was able to use it to yank Howard to his feet. With his free hand, he carefully grasped Howard's throat. “You will do everything that I ask of you, won't you my pretty slave? You may answer.”
“Yes, Master.” Howard flinched as Vince slapped him across the face; not too hard, but hard enough to sting. He was instantly hard under his loincloth.
“Call me Chosen One when you address me.” Vince ghosted his hand over the red spot on Howard's cheek, gently soothing the area. “Now undress me.”
Howard's hands betrayed a slight tremor as he fumbled with the buttons on Vince's shirt. Vince took the opportunity to take in the vision of Howard and his long, freckled, gorgeous body in the tiny little loincloth. He really had no idea of the effect he had on him, bless his little felted heart.
Vince was already half-hard but as soon as Howard started undoing his trousers, he was all the way there. He heard the sharp intake of breath as Howard realised he wasn't wearing any underwear.
“Pull down my trousers.” Howard looked shocked. “I mean it, slave. Don't be careful about it, yank them down my legs as hard and fast as you can.” The material was tight around Vince's thighs and so Howard had to kneel down to do as he was told, bringing his face level with Vince's crotch.
“Now, slave. I suggest you make that pretty mouth of yours useful and suck my cock.” Howard eagerly leant forward and took in as much of Vince as he could, swirling his tongue around the shaft as he began to slowly suck. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked harder, feeling Vince grab his hair and twist his hands into it. Vince tugged sharply and groaned as he felt the wet warmth envelop him. All he could feel was tongue, and lips, and Howard humming around his cock.
He tugged Howard's head backwards, briefly mourning the loss of his mouth. “I want you to lick my balls, slave.” Howard nuzzled his face into Vince, eagerly lapping at the soft skin, gently sucking each ball into his mouth in turn before releasing it, savouring the taste and the smell. He grabbed Vince's thighs – only to receive another slap in the face as Vince moved ever so slightly backwards, so he was just out of reach.
“I didn't say you could touch me, did I?! Tut tut, you are a naughty boy. Disobedient slaves must be punished.” Vince grabbed the manacle chain and roughly jerked Howard to his feet again. “Stand there and don't move.” Kicking off the trousers, Vince now stood completely naked before his lover. “Look at me, and don't look away.”
Vince began to run his hands over his body, tracing both hands over his chest and nipples in an eddying motion. He ran his hands lower, across his taut stomach, down into the neatly-trimmed thatch of hair surrounding his erection. He wrapped a hand around his cock and started to wank himself, slowly and deftly, looking Howard in the eye as he did so. Howard swallowed heavily, captivated by what he was seeing. His pupils blown, Howard's hands twitched by his sides as if to reach up and touch but Vince captured his own bottom lip between his teeth as he smirked, saying “Oh no, slave. Naughty boys only get to watch me enjoying myself, they don't get to touch.”
Vince released his cock and turned around to retrieve the lube from the bed. Coating two of his fingers, he quirked one eyebrow at Howard as he stood facing him. Running the fingers briefly along the length of his cock and over his balls he bent slightly forward so he could reach between his legs, shuddering as his fingers traced over his own hole. Howard's loincloth was tenting at the front, a patch of pre-come appearing on the material as he struggled to stand still and just watch Vince playing with himself. Vince's voice was shaky as he said, “Do you think you can behave, or do I need to punish you further?”
Howard nodded. Vince stopped what he was doing, raised his lube-coated fingers to Howard's mouth, and instructed him to lick them clean. “I want you to open me up, slave. I want you to push your long, thick fingers into my arse and get me ready for a good, hard fucking.” He drizzled some lube over Howard's fingers, then got on all fours on the bed. Looking over his shoulder, he told Howard to kneel on the bed behind him. “I want you to lick me, slave. Rim me while you've got your fingers buried deep inside me. Work your tongue around my hole, in and out.”
Howard didn't think he'd ever been this turned on in his life. Granted, his sexual experience was limited to Vince only, but he didn't care. Why would he ever want or need anyone else when he had this? He plunged his tongue inside Vince alongside the two lubed fingers already pushed deep within, revelling in the noises he could hear Vince making. Howard was aching to touch himself, but denying the pleasure because he knew his Chosen One would want it so was making it worthwhile. The brush of the loincloth against his cock was exquisite torture, and Howard Moon was loving it, oh fuck yes Sir.
“That's enough, slave!” Vince climbed off the bed and stood next to Howard, who was kneeling before him on the duvet. “Take off your loincloth and lie back on the bed.” As he did so, Vince straddled Howard's legs, pushing his manacled hands over his head. “DON'T move your arms.”
Howard briefly pushed up against Vince's hands as they rested on his arms. “Ah ah ah, slave. Ignoring the Chosen One is not a good idea.” Vince sat up and shuffled himself closer to Howard's face, his cock bobbing just in front of Howard's mouth. “Say sorry.”
Straining up slightly from the bed, Howard placed a kiss on the very tip of Vince's cock. “I am sorry, My Chosen One. I will behave from now on.”
“You'd fucking better.” Vince shuffled down the bad until he was hovering just over Howard's crotch. “I'm going to ride you now, slave. I'm going to slide down your gorgeous cock and use you like a bouncy castle. And because I'm feeling generous, you get to watch.”
“Thank you, My Chosen One.” Vince drizzled Howard's cock with some lube, and Howard gritted his teeth as he felt Vince's tight heat start to surround him. He had to concentrate on not losing it altogether as he watched Vince slowly work his way down his cock until he was buried inside him, all the way to the hilt. They gasped in tandem at the blissful feeling.
Vince reached blindly around the bed until he found the loincloth. He leant forward. “Slave, open your mouth.” He stuffed just enough of the material into Howard's mouth to make a successful gag, but not enough to be uncomfortable. “I'm going to leave that there until I want to take it out, and then you'll come screaming my name. For now, I want your mouth to feel as full as my arse does. Do you understand me?”
Howard nodded and twitched his hips upward, making Vince jerk upright and grind down on him in a circular motion. “Fucking hell, that's...oh fuck, sla – Howard - do that again!”
Eyes locked on each other, Howard pushed up with his hips as Vince continued to writhe and grind, every so often lifting himself up to the very tip of Howard's cock before slamming himself back down. Howard could see Vince's cock leaking a few drops of pre-come onto his stomach, and he itched to be able to touch him. Vince caught his gaze. “Do you want to touch me, slave? I'm not sure you've been good enough.” He leant forward, his face a whisper away from that of his lover's. Both men were now panting and their erratic rhythm was a clue that the two of them were close to coming. Vince pulled the material from Howard's mouth and flung it to the floor.
“My Chosen One – oh fuck ah yes -”
“Yes slave, what do you desire?”
“Bite me.”
Vince stilled momentarily as he looked down. “Say that again.”
“Bite me, My Chosen One, please!”
“Fuck Howard, that's so hot”, and Vince bit down as hard as he could into the little curve where Howard's neck met his shoulder. With a strangled cry of “OhgodVINCE!”, Howard snapped up his hips and began to come. Vince grabbed his own cock; barely needing to touch himself, he spilled his load all over Howard's stomach and chest. Flopping forward, he snuggled against his lover.
“Vince, can I put my arms down now? I might need some help.”
“Awww Howard, sorry!” Vince sat up and delicately slid off his lover, helping him to lower his arms, then finding the key to unlock the manacles before climbing back onto the bed. He rubbed Howard's wrists and arms, checking he was ok before wriggling as close as possible alongside him, planting a gentle kiss on his rapidly-blooming bruise.
“Wow.”
“I know! That was GENIUS. And you asking me to bite you, you saucy Northerner. Didn't know you had it in you.”
“Neither did I, Little Man. What about you and your filthy dirty mouth? Not that I'm complaining, no Sir.”
“Yeah, you loved it, me ordering you around and all that. We are definitely doing that again.”
Howard turned to look at Vince, smiling sleepily. “Oh yes most definitely, Sir. Next time, you can be the slave and I'll be your Chosen One, though.” As he drifted off, the last thing he heard was Vince's voice as he fondly said:
“Oh Howard you great Northern numpty, you always have been.”