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All in all, he thinks, this has been a good night out. He eases out of his seat at the bar and puts his wallet back into his jacket pocket. He looks forward to the rest of the evening, relaxing on the couch with 250 and watching a rented movie. As he goes to sit back down to wait for 250's return from the restroom, he's stopped by a touch on his shoulder, accompanied by a husky voice.

“Excuse me. My friend and I would like to know if you’d like to join us for a few drinks?” He turns towards the voice. The woman standing behind him is beautiful, with deep russet hair framing lovely green eyes. Exactly the kind of woman he would have happily taken home a few months ago. And a friend? How perfect that would be if not for his current arrangement.

"Oh, thank you, I’m very flattered, but I’m here with someone.” His voice is light and he gives her a warm smile.

He feels more irritation than he thinks he should at the prospect of being picked up in a bar.

“Oh, well,” she smirks, “bring her, too! The more the merrier I say!”

“I’m here with my boyfriend.”

Her fingers clench lightly on his shoulder. “Boyfriend? I've seen you leave here with no less than two women before…”

300 shrugs off her hand gently and looks her in the eyes with a smile calculated to convey all his warmth and the clear message ‘there’s NO way it could be you, it’s all me’.

“Yes. Boyfriend,” he answers, “and one I happen to be rather attached to.”

“Hey Fancy Pants, ready to go?’ comes a voice from over 300’s shoulder.

He smiles, and it’s exactly as before, but in his eyes flashes an ember of genuine warmth that hadn't been there before.

“Oh, um, I should get going.” states the woman, her eyes settling on 250.

250 smiles at her good-naturedly, “Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt your conversation. Stay.”

300 looks over at 250, his eyebrow raised the tiniest fraction in silent inquiry.

“I'm sorry, I should introduce myself. I'm Tracy.”

There is a split second delay, before 300 elegantly holds out his hand to her, “I'm George, this is Tristan.”

“Hi, Tristan. You're one lucky guy- George here was just talking about you.”

“Nothing good I'm sure,” laughs the older man.

“Oh, hush you. I was merely saying that-.” he begins.

“He didn't mention you look like Daniel Day-Lewis, though.” Tracy interrupts, her gaze settling again on 250.

Pulled up short, 300 turns to look at his partner, as though seeing him for the first time.

Blushing slightly under such unexpected scrutiny, the older man manages to look both confused and pleased. And makes it look attractive as hell, movie-star looks or no, thinks 300 privately.

“Seriously? Oh god, he's just gorgeous!"

250 smiles softly and the three talk about Daniel Day-Lewis films for a few minutes until Tracy's phone begins to chirp loudly. “Oh god! I completely forgot about my friend, Hope! I'm sorry, I have to go. It was nice meeting you both.”

The men utter their goodbyes as she gathers her belongings and rushes back to the corner booth and her neglected friend.

300 lets out a slow breath and turns to 250. He's about to speak but the words die on his lips as he catches 250’s eyes. His face is neutral but his eyes...they’re hard, flinty.

Dangerous.

“Home. Now.”

The young man soothes his face back into what he hopes is a neutral expression and nods at his partner, knowing better than to argue.

The atmosphere in the car is tense as they head back to 250’s house. 300 uses the time to try and suss out what happened at the bar. The only thing he can imagine that would have set 250 off are his recurring insecurities that 300 is going to leave him for someone else. But that’s foolish, right? He turned the woman down, surely that counted for something. He steals a glance over at 250 as the lights from passing streetlamps play over his features, occasionally making his angular face resemble old marble busts of Roman deities.

His breath hitches in his throat as he feels the need to reach over and soothe the gruff expression off 250’s face. His hand moves from his lap without really knowing where to go or what to do.The car slows to a stop and 250 fixes the younger man within his gaze as he surveys the oncoming traffic in preparation for the turn onto the busy roadway.

300’s heart skips a beat. It’s as if all of 250’s electric blue intensity is focused solely on him and he can’t decide whether to turn away or keep looking. As though sensing his partners thoughts, 250 takes the options away as he refocuses on the road and completes his turn.

He exhales slowly and closes his eyes. He’s feeling foolish, suddenly grateful for the surrounding darkness as he realizes that he’s given his heart to this man.

It's a situation he’s never envisioned for himself. But surprisingly, he realizes, it doesn't scare him as much as it used to. Still, it’s a train of thought that leaves him feeling more vulnerable than he is comfortable with right now and he stuffs it back where it came from, vowing to think about it later after seeing what the rest of the evening holds.

They pull into the subdivision's parking lot and make their way to 250’s house.

As 250 walks ahead to unlock the front door, 300 clears his throat, preparing to attempt to clear the air between them before they get inside. He wants this sorted so they can finish their date properly. With a final click the deadbolt opens and 300 begins to call out to 250 to stop him from going in.

Before he can process his thoughts into words, 250 wheels around and pushes him into the patio wall, holding him there with body. Fists clench at his jacket and a sharp corner of the intercom box on the wall juts into his shoulder blade as 250 pushes against him. 300 lets loose a low groan as 250’s tongue plunders his mouth, tracing over his teeth and lapping at the corners of his lips.

It’s all very hot and almost as quickly as it begins, 250 backs off and pushes 300 into the house. The door is closed softly behind them and the entryway light is dimmed.

“What the hell was that?” demands 300, feeling ruffled, “First the cold shoulder and now this?” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back a little, away from his partner.

250 steps forward and closes the gap between them and 300 turns away quickly.

250 frowns and moves closer, “I heard what you said in the bar.”

“Good, then you heard how I turned her and her friend down. I don’t know why you’re acting like this.”

“You don’t know which part of the conversation I’m referring to.” 250 steps up behind the younger man, slipping his hands in his pants pockets and pulling him back against his groin.

“I don’t see how that matters. I’m here with you, not her.”

250 smiles and rests his chin on 300’s neck, “You called me your boyfriend.”

“Well, you are, aren't you? I mean, that is the correct term, right? ”

“I am, and that is the correct term. You've just never actually referred to me as your boyfriend before.”

“Never? I’m sure I have.” He turns around to face the older man.

“Not that I’ve ever heard. You couldn't possibly know how long I've waited for you to say that.” 250’s hand reaches out and his knuckles caress the side of 300’s jaw. 300 sighs and leans into the touch.

“Then why the silent treatment on the way home?” he quirks an eyebrow,“I really can’t tell you how confusing that was.”

“Because I wanted to rip your clothes off and take you right there in the bar.” 250’s mouth hovers over 300’s ear and his breath is hot on the sensitive skin. “Is that what you need to hear me say? That I want to fuck you because you claimed me?”

“Oh, well...uhhm,” it’s as if 250’s crude words shoot the power balance between them to hell and beyond. Instinctively, 300 ducks his head and twists his tie around between his fingers.

“I want you to go upstairs and get ready for bed. I’ll be up shortly.” 250 growls quietly, as he pushes 300 towards the stairs.

Dazedly, 300 stumbles upstairs and heads to the master bedroom they've been sharing. After removing his clothing and placing the garments in the hamper, he brushes his teeth and makes his way to his side of the bed and plops down on the edge of the mattress.

He’s half hard after hearing 250’s growling command and it only gets worse the longer he waits in the room. Closing his eyes, he replays the scene from earlier in his mind. Had he known that such a simple thing as claiming 250 as his boyfriend would elicit such a response, he would have done it months ago.

The memory of 250 treating him so roughly causes him to squirm and as he lowers his hand to adjust his cock, he feels the edge of the bed dip. A rough hand stills his own.

"No touching."

300's eyes flick open and he attempts to look at 250 in the dimmed light of the room.

"Why? Are you going to take care of that for me?" If the smirk he gives 250 is the slightest bit shaky, it must be because he’s naked and the room has grown a bit chill in their absence. Either way, 250 does not seem to take notice.

"Maybe," the older man chuckles, "but that all depends on you. Earlier, when you claimed me, that was something that I wanted from you for a very long time. Now, I'm going to give you something you've been wanting for a while as well. So stand up, and keep quiet. Don’t say anything unless it's to answer a direct question. Otherwise, this ends. Do you understand?"

300 remains seated on the bed, he takes in several deep breaths, yet still feels like he can't get enough air. His prick is almost painfully hard now, standing erectly between his slightly vibrating legs. He nods dumbly, the gravity of 250’s request not yet having taken hold in his mind.

As he's about to answer, his head is jerked back, 250's hand threaded tightly in his hair.

"I asked you a question. You shouldn't keep me waiting."

"Yes, I understand." he replies meekly as sharp spikes of pleasure shoot up from his cock.

"Good. Now stand up, and we'll begin."

In a move that completely removes any signs of his normal gracefulness, 300 scrambles up from the bed and nearly tumbles to the floor. He recovers quickly and stands near the edge of the bed, within easy reach of 250.

"Turn around."

300, prepared this time to comply with 250’s command, turns quickly and without incident. He stands there for a few minutes with only the occasional sounds of 250 undressing. Every bit of rustling fabric and zippers breaking the silence of the room sends another throb through his prick.

He uses the time to contemplate his situation. He’s always been interested in being dominated, but has ever made his desires known to anyone, especially not 250. Sure, he has a few magazines and cheap novels hidden away in his apartment, but he’s careful not to leave them in anyone’s view. He quickly sorts the question away for another time as he feels a hand caress his neck.

250’s voice purrs at the back of his ear as his arms are pulled loose from his sides and bound tightly behind him. "Before I forget, your safeword is ‘Red October’."