A/N: so, apologies in advance for the French butchery that I'm pretty sure is in here - there's not much, but Google translate doesn't do context, so if you can improve on it, please say 🧐

François

I knew today would be difficult, but I had no idea it would be harder on me than it is on Ellis. I watched Ellis dress this morning in his power suit, as he calls it, and it took everything I had not to tie him to our bed and spend the day taking him apart, instead of making him do this awful thing. But he dealt with it in the way he's learned, from Gray, and Dr. Marvin, and maybe, if I'm feeling a little egotistical, me, too. He kept his head held high, and he sat with me in the gallery as we watched the jury hand down a guilty verdict on Ivan Klavic.

Because of the nature of the charges against him, all of the witnesses the prosecutor had pulled together had been allowed to give their testimony through video link, but Ellis had wanted to be here for this, had wanted to look the man who had stolen his teen years from him in the eye as he'd lost everything. Klavic is broken, looking at least twenty years older than his purported age. The judge sets the date for sentencing, but says Klavic is to be kept in custody, and that he will be recommending the maximum sentence, and the man shrinks even more.

I might be a bit of a wreck, inside, but I'm unsurprised at the joy in Ellis's face as we leave the court. He's already pushed through everything that happened to him, because he's so darned strong, but today was the cherry on top.

"I want to take you for coffee." He grabs my hand, positively skipping, and then leaning into me with a beatific smile. It's not even removed when some city-redneck spits out a slur, he just blasts out a happy 'fuck you' as he drags me down the street.

"Get a cake," he insists, still smiling, as I order my coffee. God, he's such a fucking light. I'm paying him, obviously, for the work he's doing at the club, and he's taken to insisting on treating me all the time, which I don't hate. It isn't about the money, for either of us, it's about being a pair. And besides, he's proud of himself, and I'm proud of him, and I love that he can show off at how well he's doing.

"I told Nikki I'm ready to meet my father, like we talked about," he says, licking a foamy mustache off his lips, that only makes me want to devour him, right here in this family-friendly coffee shop.

"Good for you. Is he coming here? Or do you want to go to Minsk?" I suddenly realize that's an option.

"Hah! No. Nikki's mom sounds like a witch. He's coming here, but he's telling her it's for work. Promise me we'll never be like that; lying and hiding things."

"She might have a point, Baby. I tell you what, you promise me that you'll never impregnate some random woman, and I promise we'll never lie about it."

He laughs, such a clear, joyous sound that people look over, smiling, bathing in his happiness.

"I want to play with you," I whisper, unable to hold back any longer.

"Here?" he jokes, but he waves the waitress over, changing our order to takeout.

I manage to keep my hands off him until we get through the door. On the way, I messaged the staff to go to their apartment, so we have the place to ourselves. The moment we're through the door, Ellis puts the cake boxes on the console table and drops elegantly to his knees before me.

"Such a good boy," I purr, running my thumb along his perfect jawline, then back up until my fingers are entwined in his hair, and I can tug, just sharply enough for him to gasp in pleasure and for his head to tilt.

"Look at me, Baby."

His eyes flick up from where he'd been carefully looking at the floor, and they're blown, pupils huge and dark, the blue edges hazy with pleasure.

"Who owns you, Baby?"

"You do, Sir," he whimpers.

"Such a good boy," I use my thumb to play along his lower lip, pulling it down, his jaw dropping responsively.

"So many choices," I murmur, debating what to start with. He's been so good, I want to shower him with praise and cuddle him, but I'll get that when I've finished playing with him, and suddenly I'm in the mood to torment my perfect boy. He licks his lips, his eyes flipping from mine to my cock, which is already straining at the fabric of my suit, and back.

"Soon, Darling," I chuckle. "Go to the playroom, strip, and kneel on a cushion."

He stands quickly, but then pauses, and I know it's because he wants to have the poise of a 'good' sub. He is, anyway, and I love it when he gets overexcited and rushes about, but I like this, too, when he parses everything out and gets technical.

I take my time, putting our food away in the kitchen, giving him time to prepare. When I can't wait a moment longer, I go upstairs, pausing in the doorway to our playroom, just to watch him. I know he's aware, even though he keeps his eyes down perfectly, and even though his body remains utterly relaxed as he holds his position, waiting for me to make my wishes clear. If it's even possible, he's more beautiful than ever, his body strong and golden, his skin smooth. I know, when I finally tell him to look at me, his eyes will be clear and bright.

Not everything in our life is perfect. But that's because it never will be, and that's how it should be. We, as a partnership, are always a work in progress. But Ellis is perfect, and he always will be, even as he grows into himself, as he develops and becomes more confident, as he does day-by-day.

I approach him, and he finally tenses, minutely, a tiny tremble of anticipation that runs through his beautiful body. His eyes are still down, but he licks those luscious lips, getting them spit-slicked and glossy.

"Look at me," I instruct, guiding his head up with a gentle hand on his jaw, and he blinks up at me, his blue eyes large and eager, hiding a happy little grin that's visible in his twitching cheeks.

"Take me out."

He moves quickly, assured fingers unfastening my pants just enough to pull me free. I'm not hard yet, though that's purely willpower, looking at him this way, and it's only because I know he likes to be the one to bring me to life.

He licks a stripe along my soft length, making me twitch, ready to fill. I let it happen as he kisses down the side, and brushes across the head with his limber tongue. I stroke his hair as he takes me into his mouth, so perfect, and hot, and wet, his tongue flicking, snake-like and agile and everywhere. I enjoy my boy for a while, enjoy the pleasure in his eyes as he shows off to me, but I have plans to claim him harder.

"Relax, bébé," I whisper, massaging his jaw with my thumb until his mouth softens around me, and I can push, taking control, sliding as far as his throat, and then a little further. His eyes are so pretty and wide as he gulps around me and I wipe a pearl of moisture away from the corner of his eye.

He keeps his eyes on mine, and I get almost lost in them, in the beautiful glossy tears that roll with each convulsion of his throat, but they suddenly flick, and the spasm is too long, and his thumb and finger pinch my thigh, so I pull back, gently cradling his chin.

"Ellis? Baby?"

"Adagio," he pants out. "Shit, sorry, Sir."

"Don't be sorry, Baby. You know you can always use your safewords. I don't mind that you needed to slow down."

I move to the bed, half carrying Ellis with me.

"Take a breath."

"I'm okay, Sir, I promise."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't really want to, Sir."

"I get it, Baby, but you only wanted to slow down. Do you want to stop instead?" I stroke his back, trying to make it clear that I'll be happy with whatever decision he makes, but I can't continue if he won't articulate what bothered him.

"I don't want to stop. I'm just kinda embarrassed."

"Not with me, Ellis."

"No. You're right. Okay. It was just that...when you were, you know, fuc- using my mouth that way. I normally love it. But I think, today, because of the court case...I guess it brought some memories back that aren't great, and I'll have to speak to the therapist and all."

"That's okay. So you don't want that today. It's not a problem, Baby. Is there something you'd prefer? And, au fait, I am proud of you, for using your safeword, and slowing things down when you weren't comfortable."

"Thank you, Sir," he blushes sweetly. "I don't want to choose something though, please. I still want to leave it up to you. I promise I'll safeword if I need to."

"Okay, I know I can trust you to do that, just lie back."

I have something in mind that I'm hoping won't trigger him in any way, and I love playing with my boy, so it works for me, too.

"Can I tie your wrists?" I ask, brandishing the soft silk ribbons I collect from the cabinet.

"Yes please, Sir," his eyes light up and he bites his blood-filled lower lip, still puffy from earlier. I tie him carefully, making sure the edges are smooth against his wrists, and I wave something else.

"Can I?"

He nods rapidly, smiling. He enjoys the cock ring for what it does to him, and this one stretches over, so I have no problem placing it on him even though he's already hard. It's made especially for him, so I know it's the perfect size, and as soon as it's on I can see his beautiful cock getting even harder with the pressure. I don't suck him, because I don't want to trigger him, just in case, but he shudders pleasurably when I push his thighs wide.

Normally I might work him this way on his stomach, but I want to keep watching his face, monitoring each reaction, making sure he stays comfortable. I breach his hole easily, which makes me happy because I know he's already relaxed again, and ready for me, sliding deep inside and finding his prostate straight away. Usually, I would tease for longer, but the ring allows me to build him up more quickly, and keep him there longer, until his hips are writhing on the bed, and he's begging so sweetly for release.

I pull the knot I made connecting him to the bed, but leave his wrists bound to each other. I want a very particular thing now, and I love the way, when I position myself at the edge of the bed, facing the standing mirror I twisted toward us earlier, he has to lean back against my chest because he can't use his hands to steady himself. I wrap one hand around his chest, holding him close, and use the other to assist him in lifting his hips, his powerful runner's thighs flexing as he rides me, watching himself in the mirror.

"Regarde toi. Tellement beau. Fait toi venir."

I guide his hips to make sure the hot slide of my cock inside him is running along his spot, listen to him panting and moaning as he builds higher.

"Can you do it, Baby? Without touching yourself?"

It's a big thing to ask, with the ring holding him at a strong simmer for so long, but he nods, and starts to grind instead, a clever move with his lithe body that punches a growl from deep in my throat. He will come before me – that is my pleasure – so I twist my head, scraping my teeth against his tender neck and pinching a nipple tightly, and he shudders, slamming against me, letting go with an animalistic yowl of fulfilment, as I pull his hips onto me, holding him still while I fill him.

Later, clean and cared for, I pull him closer so I can nuzzle his nape as we fall into a nap.

"Thank you, Suzu."

"Always my pleasure."

"No. I mean...for letting me be in control in that way. Being on top while you were inside me. I didn't know that's what I needed, but I did. Thank you for understanding me that way."

"I'm learning. But I will never stop trying for you, Ellis. I love you."

"I love you too."