thegentlemanthug | RS/A man in uniform

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verse: safe hands

RS/A man in uniform

An uneasy truce develops between Drake and Reid, until the Inspector seems to forget the incident and subject them to his usual moods.

So when Drake is called to the Inspector's office, he has no idea what to expect.

"The incident with the jail cells," Reid begins.

"Sir." Drake's voice holds a warning note. He had hoped it had gone away for good.

"It seems you conduct did not go unnoticed."

Drake's jaw tenses. "Inspector, I can-"

"You're being given a commendation. For exemplary conduct. I suggest you find your uniform, Sergeant. There will be a fête outside the station this evening. I expect a couple of Parliamentary members at the very least."

In a daze, Drake exits the office and almost walks straight past his lover in his shock.

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Uncorking the bottle, Matthew spills the oil out into the palm of Bennet's hand.

"Now touch me."

Bennet leaps to obey, leaning forward to curl his oil-slick palm around Matthew's cock as his other hand caresses his lover's chest.

"Do you trust me, Bennet? Answer honestly." Matthew asks as he uses more oil over his own hand, slicking his fingers.

Bennet watches Matthew pour oil over his fingers, his stomach lurching at the thought of what's to come.

"Yes sir," he says, his voice husky and thick with arousal.

"Then bring your legs up," Matthew guides, the strict tone of his voice losing a little of its edge as he guides Bennet into the position he wants. He's well aware that this will be his lover's first time, and he doesn't want to hurt him in the heat of their game.

Drake lets Matthew move him, his limbs relaxed and pliant from the alcohol.

"Yes sir," he slurs a little, heart beating faster.

Leaning forward, Matthew plants a surprisingly gentle kiss to Bennet's lips. "If you want me to stop, any time, say," he says, voice suddenly its normal gentle self, breaking from their game for the moment. "Say..." he tries to think of a word that Bennet would never say in the heat of the moment. "Say 'Chicago', alright?"

Bennet locks the word in his memory, no idea why it would ever be necessary but doing exactly as Matthew tells him.

"Yes sir. Chicago sir."

"Good," Matthew gives Bennet one more kiss, before pulling back and turning himself back into the master of this situation.

Fingers slick from the oil, he brings the first to Bennet's hole, pressing at the opening. "Relax, soldier," he advises, as he presses inside.

The sensation is very strange, but the ale in his veins helps him accept it.

"Captain..." he starts, before gasping at the unusual stretch to his body.

Matthew hesitates a second, before carrying on, pressing deeper, ignoring the name on Bennet's lips. He's told him to say Chicago, he has to believe now that Bennet will do just that.

"Tell me how that feels, Sergeant," he orders.

Bennet feels something steal through his body, a warm liquid feeling of pleasure.

"Ah! Good, sir. V-very good."

Matthew crooks his finger, twisting it, thrusting gently in and out as he gets Bennet used to these sensations of being filled.

Bennet groans, low in his throat, loving the feeling of Matthew's fingers even if he doesn't understand his own body anymore.

"I'm going to use another finger now," he tells Bennet, pulling his one finger back to double it up, thrusting forwards again. He's harder, this time, less gentle, reminding his lover who's the master of this situation.

The stretch is uncomfortable, but Drake mastered his expression of discomfort a long time ago.

He stares up at his lover, giving up all his trust to him. He's done this to Matthew enough times - he has to believe his pain will turn to pleasure soon.

Matthew watches Bennet's face just as closely, looking for signs that he's going too fast, too far. He trusts his lover will stop him, if he has to, but he also knows that his lover is a soldier. He will not admit defeat until he truly has no other option.

He spends longer, therefore, letting his lover adjust to the stretch of two fingers, seeking out the spot inside of him that will make him understand what this is all about.

The grunt leaves his lips without warning, as a wave of pleasure floods him and his cock jerks to attention.

His body is loose once more and an ache building in him for much more than this.

Sensing his opportunity, seizing the moment, Matthew pulls back and presses in with a third finger, increasing the stretch as he leans down to kiss Bennet roughly.

"Good man," he encourages, pumping his fingers into his lover.

Drake's ready for the feeling this time, welcomes it with the kiss.

He wants to reach up, drag his lover down, but the weight of his orders pins him to the bed.

"Tell me, Bennet," Matthew speaks when he feels that his lover is ready for more.

"Tell me what you want me to do now. Speak."

"Y-you, sir," Bennet stammers out. "I w-want you."

"Correct answer," Matthew smiles, rewards Bennet with another bruising kiss as he pulls his fingers away, lines up his oil-slick cock instead.

"Remember Chicago," he says, softly, as he presses forward.

The sensation is unexpected, but it's only uncomfortable, not painful. He does reach up then, hands resting over Matthew's hips as his lover slowly sinks inside him.

Drake feels completed, whole.

Matthew continues his slow press until he can go no deeper, groaning at the feel of his Bennet so tight around his cock.

"You feel so good," he tells his lover, reaching back for his hands and taking them back under his control, pinning them to the bed.

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