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Despite his love for teasing Adam, Lawrence could never find it in himself to say no to the boy.
So when Adam came to him with some magazines, quite obviously toning his own excitement down, and showed Lawrence the photos of handsome models, tied in such a… sophisticated way, and said ‘Hey, how about we try this?’, well–
Even if that hadn’t made the Doctor’s heart race and his blood run hot (which it had), he still wouldn’t be able to deny Adam something he wanted.
Because he saw the boy's chest picking up breath as he talked about it. About how… cool it would look. As if the cool factor was the trick to sell Lawrence the idea.
Oh, he was very much sold on it already. His imagination was running wild with it, the mere image of Adam bound like that, helpless…
‘Maybe’, he had said then, voice leveled, bordering on vaguely interested at all, despite his breath catching short and the slightest tremble of his hands.
The thing was, for this, he needed his hands steady. Surgically steady. His movements - both sure and reassuring. Long story short, Lawrence needed to practice. And luckily, he had just the candidate.
They met at a warehouse in which Hoffman was working on a big, new trap. His wide shoulders and neck glistened with sweat from all the heavy lifting, and there was tension to them, always seemed to be when Lawrence was around. The Detective wore plain work jeans that have seen better days, and a white wife-beater, damp and smeared with mechanics grease. Despite an attempt to comb his hair with his fingers, a few thick strands still fell on his brow. His whole crude appearance made for something Lawrence hated to get worked-up about.
Hoffman sat on the metal stool in front of the Doctor, looking smug yet expectant. A challenge thrown at Lawrence, show me what you’ve got, and the like. Just as Lawrence thought, it didn't take much convincing at all to have Hoffman seated there, ready to be tied by his Doctor. It was late, and no-one had waited for the Detective except maybe the local bars.
It was a sort of trade between them - at least that was how it usually went. Hoffman getting his twisted caricature of a human touch, while Lawrence… well, he got something out of it, too.
Still, Lawrence didn’t care for the part of himself that was drawn to the Detective. Almost a shameful thing, taking its rancid roots somewhere in the back of his mind. So he punished Hoffman for it, and they both would always enjoy it a little too much, and it was a vicious cycle. The one Lawrence hadn’t yet figured out how to break.
Or if he wanted to.
He could train the ties on a medical manikin, but he wanted to be ready for both physical and psychological aspects of it. He read that it might be quite an intense experience - nothing a doll would be able to share with him. He did prepare the ropes beforehand, but were they safe enough? Or will they burn, or even break the skin? So much to examine. Because Dr Lawrence Gordon liked to be prepared for all circumstances. Know all the outs beforehand.
‘This one looks like it’s hard to breathe in it.’ Adam showed Lawrence a different photo he found on the internet, and the older man almost fainted with how fast his blood pumped to his face imagining his Adam in the model's stead. One pair of ropes forming a band right under the pectorals with a knot in the middle, fanning outward into a diamond shape, weaved through the ropes binding his ribcage just below the collarbone. From there, the diagonal lines met in another knot, this time at the jugular notch, and part again to brace the model’s neck.
Lawrence’s own shirt collar felt tight. ‘We can try something else.’ He offered, barely managing to keep his composure.
‘N-no. I like this one. I mean… it's not like a Doctor would let anything bad happen to me, right?’ He winked and flashed a mischievous smile, like it was a playful thing between them.
He swallowed at the memory, weaving the rope around the Detective's chest - the task at hand he should be focusing on. Despite the younger man's visible efforts to play it cool, his breathing already picked up and his upper body heaved with every deliberate, slow inhale and every shaky exhale under Lawrence's dexter fingers.
“You should relax…” Lawrence offered, “I think…” He added, tying the Detective's wrists behind his back.
“I am relaxed.” Hoffman squinted at him with irritation. As if Lawrence hadn't noticed the effort with which the Detective was trying to steady his breathing. As if it didn't hitch and stutter every time Lawrence’s fingers made contact with his bare skin. Just to prove him wrong, the Doctor made a knot right under Hoffman's Adam's apple before leading the two rope ends outwards and behind his neck. Hoffman let out a small grunt when Lawrence tugged at the knot behind his back. God, he was so worked up already, wiggling in his seat… The more he tried to hide how much it affected him, the more obvious it was.
“Can you hold still?” Lawrence asked with irritation, pulling at the rope to make it even tighter, curious if Hoffman would protest. (He didn't).
“You want to do this to Adam?” The Detective asked after an attempt of a deeper inhale, but the ropes on his chest were already tight enough to limit the movements of his ribcage, or at the very least - force him to be very mindful of his breathing.
The harness was fairly easy - Lawrence was a beginner after all - but it applied pressure in all the right places, made it feel inescapable. Almost claustrophobic. He knew why Adam needed it - why both of them needed it.
Not that Hoffman could ever understand that. Lawrence sighed in annoyance and tightened the rope again, hitching Hoffman’s breath in his throat. “You’ve got an opinion on that?”
“I’ve got thick skin.” Hoffman exhaled.
That's one way to put it.
“What’s fine with me is gonna be too much for him.”
That’s exactly why I keep you around, Lawrence thought. It was true - something that would most likely break Adam would probably just tickle Hoffman.
“Your consideration for Adam's well-being is touching.” He paused. “But I assure you, I’m very aware of his limits. This is solely to give me a sense of the ropes before I do anything with him.”
Hoffman seemed to consider. “Not my fucking circus anyway.” He eventually mumbled under his breath.
Oh, but he couldn't be any more obvious about how much he wished to be a part of that circus… to have a pillow in the corner of their bedroom. To kneel by the table and eat their scraps. To have a tiny piece of their life. Frankly, to be their dog.
It crossed Lawrence’s mind a couple of times. Definitely more than he'd like to admit. Having the Detective leashed and making him watch as Lawrence fuck Adam sensless. And once he pumped his boy's tight ass full of cum, then he'd order their pet to crawl over, climb up on the bed and clean Adam with his tongue. Lap Lawrence's cum like the dog he is, every last drop.
But as appealing an image as it was, Lawrence didn't really like to share. He changed the subject.
“And how’s your little partner? The one you want to recruit?”
“We’re not partners anymore. He’s in the SWAT team.” Hoffman grunted.
“Sounds like a catch. Heard you want to make it look like Jigsaw got you. So your dear friend can come to your rescue.”
Hoffman let out another low groan of annoyance, but his ears got a little red. Lawrence smirked to himself and continued. “Maybe this will give you some inspiration. You can wait for him all tied up and helpless.”
Hoffman scoffed. “I’m not gonna tie myself like a fucking ham–” The reddish hue of his ears got even brighter, as he cut himself short. Lawrence would bet that the unspoken end of the sentence was: ‘for him.’
“Why not?” Lawrence took a step back to evaluate his work. “This harness shows your best… assets.” His knuckle brushed over Hoffman’s nipple, making the other man gasp sharply despite himself. Indeed, the ropes accentuated Hoffman’s pectorals in an obscene way, even with his undershirt still on. Almost like an outline of a bikini top, digging in under and over the muscle tissue. But Hoffman’s physique was pornographic, while Adam’s… Lawrence had to blink it away, the image of Adam in those ropes too distracting. Lean, toned… well. Just… young. And at Lawrence's mercy.
“If I didn't know any better, I'd think you just gave me a compliment.” Hoffman flashed a half smirk at the Doctor, while his muscles flexed and relaxed, trying and failing to find comfort in his predicament. It was met with a quirk of an eyebrow.
“Thank goodness you know better.”
Hoffman opened his mouth, and Lawrence thought it's because he had difficulty taking breath again. “Too tight?” There was a note of sarcasm in his question. They both knew it was rhetorical, and Hoffman hissed a laugh in response.
“S’fine, I… I'm just counting on you returning the favour.”
Lawrence raised his brows as high as they went. “Oh, you're doing me a favour? So that erection is just à propos of nothing?” He finally addressed Hoffman's very obvious tent between his spread out legs.
“Yeah, well, it's whether or not you’re gonna do something about it.” Hoffman tried to sound nonchalant, but the straining material of his pants and a glimmer of hope in his eyes betrayed him.
Gordon mused for a moment, brows furrowed, lips pursed. As if he was really considering it.
“Actually… you’re on uncharacteristically good behaviour today. And good behaviour should be rewarded, right?”
The look on Hoffman’s face was priceless. Endearing almost. Like a dog promised a treat.
“So you’re going to suck–”
“I may let you hump my cane, how about that?” With a squint, Lawrence tilted his head to the side.
A huff of air escaped Hoffman’s lips before he narrowed his eyes as if calculating, gears turning in his thick skull. “By your cane, do you mean–”
“I mean my very literal, wooden cane.” Lawrence rolled his eyes before sighing in disappointment. “But if that’s not good enough for you…”
Hoffman made a grunt of protest, although ‘no’ couldn’t quite make it through his throat. Bothered, he half-rolled his eyes while a snarl spasmed through his face.
“It’s… yeah, fine.” He mumbled.
Lawrence just raised his fair brows at Hoffman, and the Detective knew exactly what was expected of him. He shifted uncomfortably, as if the ropes on his arms and chest felt tighter, dug deeper into his flesh, made it even harder to breathe.
“Let… can I h– fuck…” The more he couldn’t get the words out, the more Lawrence enjoyed it. Despite the Detective being generally easy, it wasn’t always as easy to get him this flustered. Had to be the ropes working their magic. He really didn't have to agree to this humiliation. But Mark Hoffman was a simple beast, driven just by his most basic needs. If he was ever capable of complex emotions, that was a different person - just as Lawrance was once a different person.
“You’re doing so well, almost there.” Lawrence mocked in a sweet, sing-songy tone.
Hoffman glared at him from under furrowed eyebrows. It was all the ‘fuck you’ he could afford. He wouldn’t dare to say it out loud. Because as Lawrence observed, Hoffman’s cock was not only still painfully strained against his pants, it also leaked through the fabric, forming a very visible stain - he was desperate for the release.
“Can I ride your fucking cane. Please.” He seethed through his teeth, spitting at the last word.
“Well.” Lawrence smiled darkly, “That wasn’t that hard, was it?”
In his endless generosity, Lawrence offered Hoffman the handle end of the cane, but just merely brushed it over Hoffman’s crotch. He wanted to see the Detective buck his hips for contact, of course. And the Detective did just that, digging the heels of his work boots into the concrete floor, straining in his bounds, and letting out a growl of frustration. His breaths were quick and shallow. (Lawrence made a mental note in case Adam hyperventilated.)
Finally Lawrence took pity and pressed the wooden handle against Hoffman’s erection. The sudden pressure made Hoffman howl.
“Fuck…” He whimpered. Just as Lawrence liked it.
“You really don’t need much, do you?” The Doctor's lip tugged on one side in a mix of disgust and fascination. He held the cane in place, while Hoffman slowly ground himself against it, eliciting tortured little sounds to accompany his pained expression - because it had to be just hardly satisfying at best and downright painful at worst.
It was also the closest he'd ever get to what Lawrence had with Adam. And he took it gladly. He would take any bitter pill from his Doctor. Anything.
Even the fucking cane.
And god, the sight of him. Bound, pathetic, completely animalistic in his arousal. Drops of sweat were rolling down his temples, his thick neck and chest. His brows were knitted in such a way that made him look almost vulnerable, human - if it wasn't for that wild beast look in his eyes. It was a mean look, too. As if he was telling Lawrence yeah, I see you. I know how much you're fucking enjoying it.
He needed to be taken down a notch.
“So, say you want to tie yourself down for your SWAT friend… What do you think he’d say if he saw you now?”
Hoffman’s eyes widened with sudden anger.
“Stop…” He panted, and Lawrence knew he hit gold.
“Tell me, what do you think he’d think of you, seeing you so hot for the abuse? Would you stop if he was watching you?” Lawrence took some pressure off of the cane, and watched with delight as Hoffman's hips followed pathetically.
“I don’t think you would…” He grinned. “Because you just can’t help yourself, can you?” His tone was mockingly sympathetic. “Then, maybe he’d take advantage… And give you exactly what you need…” He dug the cane into Hoffman's crotch with a punishing force, drawing a pitiful moan from the Detective, “What you deserve…”
“Shut up! He’s not like you and me…” Hoffman sputtered, still wriggling in his seat for friction.
Don’t equate yourself to me, Lawrence thought with disdain.
“Oh, I'm sure of that. He’s happily married, right? And has a chance of a really good life…”
Hoffman scrunched his eyes shut with a whimper, trying to turn his face away from Lawrence and cursing under his breath, but the Doctor grabbed his cheeks and sipped more sickly sweet poison into his ear. “...and you’re really stupid enough to think he’d throw it all away… for this? He twisted his cane against Hoffman’s tortured cock. The Detective bared his teeth and growled.
Lawrence just went on. “I’m sure he’d be shocked to see the shit you’re into. Would he be disgusted, you think? Would it make him sick?”
Hoffman managed to jerk his head away, but Lawrence still savored the sight of arousal mixed with hot shame on the Detective's reddened face. It went quickly from there - Lawrence watched the other man's hips stutter, the muscles in his jaw tense, until–
“Dan…!” Hoffman cried out the name before scrunching his eyes shut and spasming in his ropes, while making a strangled whine. As the tension left him with come that spilled in his pants, he hung his head down.
Lawrence couldn’t see his face, but most positively heard a sob. He took Hoffman’s chin in his hand, and gently lifted it up, not allowing him the intimacy of hiding his expression. The Doctor smiled when he saw those blue eyes wet and void of any last speck of defiance.
“You did well. Good boy…” Lawrence’s thumb stroked Hoffman’s cheek, and that did it. After a sharp inhale the Detective let out a series of hiccuping sobs, wide shoulders shrugging with each one. He slumped in his seat, his head heavy in Lawrence's palm as he still held his face, savoring those sweet tears.
Adam will most definitely cry too. But Lawrence will be there to comfort him, kiss him, envelope him in a comforting embrace and whisper sweet nothings until the boy would drift to sleep, feeling safe in Lawrence's loving arms…
Hoffman's soft whimper snapped Lawrence out of his musings. The Detective was leaning into the hand that held his face, the thumb that wiped his tears, wanting every last crumb of this warmth that was never meant for him.
Lawrence withdrew his hand, almost flinching, and Hoffman chased after it as far as he could without falling from the stool. He froze in that hunched position, looking at the Doctor with a mixture of uncertainty, anticipation and hope.
But only for a moment. Steadying his breath somewhat, his gaze turned dark and reproachful.
“Don't give me that. You got what you wanted.” Lawrence's words were quiet and velvety, but dipped in venom.
Hoffman swallowed hard before speaking. “Did you?” His voice was hoarse and breathless, as his gaze dropped to the Doctor's crotch and back to his face.
Lawrence blinked, then hissed a laugh. He had to admit, the Detective's endurance was quite impressive.
“Let me untie you and maybe we’ll get back to this conversation.”