Page 122 of Second Chance

Tony lets Daniel pull out his hair tie and leans against Daniel’s shoulder as Daniel lathers shampoo into his hair.

“Feels good,” Tony mutters. It’s an understatement. He feels as if he’s been carrying half the world on his back for the last few days, aching and worn through in body and mind. Daniel’s hands in his hair draw the tension out one strand at a time.

Daniel presses soft kisses to Tony’s shoulders and the side of his neck before tilting his head under the spray and carefully carding his hands through Tony’s hair to rinse it out.

He repeats the process with the conditioner and then moves on to bodywash, choosing Tony’s, and Tony misses the generic, store-brand scent of Daniel’s. But he has Daniel right here in front of him, caressing down Tony’s arms and across his chest with soapy hands.

Daniel kneels in front of Tony, the water darkening his hair and plastering it to his forehead, and caresses along one leg and then the other before reaching between Tony’s legs and stroking his cock and balls, covering them in suds.

“Turn around?” Daniel asks, voice quiet against the thunder of the water.

Tony does it immediately.

Daniel’s hands are just as soft on his ass, massaging the cheeks and then reaching between them to spread soap across the crack, across Tony’s hole.

With a strange, punched-out ache, Tony becomes aware that he’s letting Daniel service him, and it leaves him feeling cherished and guilty all at once. “You don’t have to—”

Wet lips press against his left ass cheek. “Trust me. This is not a hardship.”

“Okay.”

Tony lets himself be moved under the spray again, lets Daniel follow the path of the water as if his hands are as important in ridding Tony’s body of the last traces of soap as the shower is. Daniel continues to stroke across Tony’s ass and cock, long past the point where any soap might still be on his skin.

“Can I take care of you tonight?” Daniel asks, low and right into Tony’s ear, making him shudder.

“You were kidnapped,” he protests weakly. “I should—”

“I was fine. You were here, alone, and you came to get me out. You almost—he almost shot you. Please, Tony, I need to feel you under my hands and make you feel good, okay?”

“Okay.” If he’s being honest, Tony couldn’t return the favor tonight anyway, loose and hazy as he is on an adrenaline crash that’s been two days in the making. Two weeks in the making. All year in the making. “I love you.”

Daniel’s mouth on his neck is warmer than the water, and Tony shivers under his touch. “I love you too.”

He wants to protest Daniel toweling him off. He’s not helpless or a child. But it feels so good to stand there and let Daniel do what he wants, let Daniel make the decisions. Tony can worry about it in the morning. Get Daniel back by fucking him over the arm of the couch or up against the kitchen counter.

Right now, Daniel leads him into the bedroom and lays him down on freshly made sheets. He sets a towel next to them and rummages in the nightstand.

He pulls out the cuffs, the fake leather ones that release as easily as the ones Daniel was wearing when Tony found him—Christ, was it only this morning? Last night?—but feel sumptuous and indulgent by contrast.

“Can I?” Daniel asks.

Tony nods.

“I’m gonna need words, honey.”

“You can tie me up, Daniel.” Tony stares up at him. “You can do whatever you want to me. Pretty sure I’d let you ruin me.”

Daniel drops the cuffs on the pillow beside Tony’s head and kisses him savagely as if he’s trying to crawl inside Tony’s skin. He grasps Tony’s wrists in one hand and presses them into the pillow above his head. Their bodies slide together, damp and solid and real. Tony arches up into Daniel’s touch, cock hardening against Daniel’s hip.

“Keep them up there, just like that,” Daniel says, his fingers light on Tony’s wrists, a contrast to the heavy cuffs when he gets them situated. Their weight around Tony’s hands keeps him grounded to the bed beneath him. “Sometime, I’m gonna tie you to the headboard with these, make you scream.”

“Not tonight?” Tony asks, coasting pleasantly on the idea that Daniel wants to do this so badly he’s already thinking about next time.

“Tonight, I’m gonna spoil you.” Daniel kisses Tony again, first on the lips and then on each cheek, followed by the line of his jaw through the scratch of Tony’s beard. He moves to the sensitive parts of his neck, usually hidden by the beard, and the thin skin at his collarbones.

Tony squirms under him, always so sensitive to Daniel’s mouth there. He wonders, for a moment, how it would be if Daniel didn’t shave, if he still had a little rasp of stubble on his cheeks, and shudders at the thought.

Daniel’s teeth press into his shoulder once, briefly, and then his hands join in, stroking Tony’s sides and across his pecs.

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