Work Text:
Hate Sex/Suspension Bondage/Mind Control
[Title - You hit me in the balls. Again] -> [Summary - It’s 2018 and the Interactive Introverts tour, and Phil keeps hitting him in the balls when he inevitably gets strapped to that fucking wheel.] -> [Relationship - Dan Howell/Phil Lester] [AU - 2018 Interactive Introverts]
How has this happened like five times already? They were barely on the seventh stop of the tour, just getting into their groove, and Phil has hit him in the balls on that stupid wheel with those stupid weapons every single time he had the opportunity. His barely concealed rage must be visible to the audience, he made a joke of it as he stripped off the thin body suit they made him wear. The audience screaming for him taking off a layer just pissed him off even more. He was sure at least someone saw how carefully he took the suit over his balls. There wasn’t much more of the show after that, and after so many years of ignoring his feelings in front of a screen or an audience his hatred wasn’t hard to hide. The breathing techniques his therapist had shown to him were going to work overtime today.
Phil could see the slightest scowl on his face, even when he didn’t realise he had one. Nine years together does that to someone. “What’s wrong? Did someone shout something out again?” He never could see when he was the problem, always blaming someone else instead of himself.
He put his corona down and looked him in the eye. “You hit me in the balls. Again.” Phil lets out a giggle, he was never serious. That was something that he used to admire about the man but when he was seriously pissed off it was really fucking annoying.
“The wheel is moving and your balls are in the centre of your body. It’s inevitable that something like this might happen.” He rolled his eyes, this was the excuse every fucking night. Even though his balls were nowhere near the middle of his body.
He moved and grabbed the boy that was pissing him off so much, why was it that hate turned him on so fucking much? There was a rope back stage, used to move that wheel. Why it was kept in their dressing room was a question he couldn’t be bothered to answer. He held his hips and kissed him, taking the older boy by surprise, and pushing him onto the couch.
He grabbed the rope and tied him up in a familiar way, as soon as he started he could tell Phil was falling into the trance he usually falls into when they're not on the road. “Baby.” Phil was falling hard, turns out you fall hard after a drought.
He kept his top half on, but he stripped his bottom half when he was tying him up. He could see his cock plumping up with him doing very little. There was a hook on the ceiling, often to put up a projector, but he had a better idea as to what to do with it.
He lifted Phil in the air, he doesn’t know where the strength came from but he knew it was in him somewhere. “Please baby.”
He knew what Phil meant with that. He didn’t give him any prep, he didn’t need it, they had plain sex that morning so fucking him raw wouldn’t do him any harm.
He couldn’t be soft, he was so angry that it would be impossible. He felt his cock sliding in and out, the familiar feeling taking a hold of his body.
Phil was gasping like a fish out of water, his brain clearly not catching up with his mouth. He’s barely been fucking him for ten minuets but he already looks gone with the fairies.
His relentless pace made it so both only had another few minutes in them. They were tired and only chasing their own pleasure. When Phil came it left a wet patch under the spot where his body was hanging. His head was loose on his shoulders and staring at the spot. The sight was too much for Dan to bear and he came inside Phil’s arse, he could feel him tighten up with the new liquid.