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Travis knows his way around a kink bar. He’s been involved in the BDSM scene for a lifetime, experimenting with shit most people wouldn’t dream of. He’s taken classes, done workshops, fucked around, and found out. Eventually, he even had to start going to clubs in other cities. He had fucked all of the options in his hometown, and while there were some options he wouldn’t mind revisiting, knowing what to expect became repetitive and mundane after a while. He missed the spontaneity of picking someone up at the club, knowing nothing about them, and blowing their fucking minds in a secluded corner somewhere.
This is a new club for him. They only hosted their grand opening a week ago, so there are still more people on the dance floor than he would expect. It’s a fad. In two weeks, this room won’t even be half full. He had heard from a close friend that this place was one of the best clubs he’s ever been to, you gotta go check it out, dude. For now, he hasn’t seen anything unexpected or different than the other clubs he’s been in.
It’s not as voyeuristic as he would normally like. Mattresses, Saint Andrew’s crosses, and spanking benches are all hidden behind closed doors. They’re still easily accessible if Travis finds anybody he wants to take back, but that’s not the point. Travis likes to watch. He’ll usually decline invites to participate when offered. Three or more people are just too many body parts to keep track of. He’s happy to observe from afar, silently criticizing technique and cataloging new things to try. There isn’t much he doesn’t already know himself, but sometimes, Travis gets surprised. He was first exposed to sounding at one of these clubs. He was sitting in a workshop two weeks later, immediately obsessed.
Most of the time, Travis doesn’t come to clubs specifically seeking out a partner. If it happens, it happens, but he mostly just enjoys the rumble of bass in his chest and the feeling of heavy gazes on him. He’s not opposed to taking someone to one of the back rooms if there is mutual attraction. It’s just not something he goes in expecting. It’s a happy benefit if it happens. If it doesn’t, he’s not bothered.
Despite this, Travis can’t help but notice somebody as soon as he steps onto the floor. The man is seemingly alone, leaning against the wall and nursing a cocktail. His bright blue eyes call out to Travis like a beacon. He must notice Travis’s staring because he smiles and motions him over with a jerk of his head. Travis swallows heavily. He knows it’s a bad idea, but he takes broad steps through the crowd anyway, dodging bodies as he goes.
The man smiles up at him, licking over his teeth. “Hey, handsome,” he says. “See something you like?”
Up close, Travis can’t help but notice how small the other man is. He has to crane his head to even attempt to look Travis in the eye. He has the confident aura of a man much larger. Travis wants nothing more than to get his hands on his waist. He knows he can’t touch until he’s received explicit permission, but it doesn’t stop him from yearning.
“Yeah, yeah,” he nods. “You’re…uh…you’re like really fucking hot.”
It’s a dumb fucking thing to say. It’s been a while since Travis has gotten so worked up over someone—let alone a stranger. The other man’s gaze is red-hot on his skin as he looks him up and down. He swirls his drink in his red solo cup. Travis is suddenly very aware of the fact that his hands are empty. He wrings his fingers through his belt loops.
The man smiles around the rim of his cup. “You’re not so bad yourself, Daddy.”
Travis has to bite back a groan. “What’s your name, cutie?”
He hums. “Why do you wanna know?”
“I like to know the names of those I’m going to fuck.” Travis explains.
“Oh,” the man says, eyes wide. “Bit presumptuous, huh?”
Travis’s blush isn’t from the heat of the dance floor. He’s floundering as he says, “I…I’m so sorry, I thought–”
“That’s not me saying no,” he shakes his head. “Come on, just fucking…stop thinking and kiss me, fuck.”
There’s a pushback on Travis’s lips, but he doesn’t have the chance to voice it. A firm hand on the back of his neck pulls him down until their mouths meet. It’s immediately passionate. There’s no preamble; Travis’s tongue gains entry to the man’s mouth with no resistance. It’s messy, full of spit and teeth and whiny moans. Travis’s hair is tugged on, their mouths parting for a moment as the other man says, “It’s Anthony. My name is Anthony. Fuck, can we go somewhere more private, please?”
Anthony doesn’t ask for Travis’s name, so he doesn’t offer it. He grabs his hand, dragging him away from the bustling dance floor. Anthony is easy to haul around. His feet nearly leave the floor as Travis moves hurriedly to the back of the club. Travis’s cock stirs in his pants. The combination of Anthony’s appearance and his size has fireworks exploding low in his gut.
“Fuck,” Travis curses. All of the play rooms are taken by people more opportunistic than them. He doesn’t particularly want to take Anthony back to his car, and he certainly doesn’t want to take him back to his house, so he’s low on options. Short of fucking the man in an alleyway outside, he sees no alternative.
Travis has never been one for public sex. It sounds hypocritical; he’s currently standing inside a kink club. Inside the play rooms, things are different, though. The doors are glass so that the safety monitors can see through, but in the low light, he could be anybody. There’s a real bed, with lube, condoms, and toys. It’s familiar, it’s what Travis knows.
Anthony clearly has no such reservations about being in public. He drops to his knees, fumbling with Travis’s belt. His hands are quick; Travis’s jeans and boxers are pulled down in the time it takes him to blink. “Hey, woah—“
“Don’t,” Anthony shakes his head. “Just…just don’t. Wanna suck you off, come on.”
Any complaints Travis has die on his lips as Anthony runs his tongue down the length of his dick. He’d be dumb to deny a pretty boy on his knees what he’s so desperately begging for. He fists his hand in the man’s hair. “Fuck, yeah, okay. Go ahead, baby.”
Anthony smiles up at him. He looks good on his knees. He kisses Travis’s head, eyes appearing more innocent than his actions would suggest. “You can pull my hair if you want,” he says. That’s the only sort of warning Travis gets. Before he can even process the fact that they should be using a condom for something like this, Anthony is taking the head into his mouth, and all coherent thoughts vacate Travis’s mind.
Travis is heavy and warm against Anthony’s tongue. It has the smaller man’s eyes fluttering shut, humming to himself as he sinks down to Travis’s base. Travis is far from his dom, but Anthony finds himself floating in something akin to subspace. He spreads his knees, sitting back on his heels. He bobs his head along the length, reveling in the way Travis’s fingers tighten in his hair.
“Shit, baby,” Travis groans. “You’re so good at this. God, your mouth. Fucking whore getting used in public like this. You love it.”
Anthony pulls off, replacing his mouth with his hand. He pumps Travis quickly as he lifts his gaze to meet Travis’s eye. Travis can’t get over how fucking blue they are, obvious even in the club lighting. “Yeah, I am.” Anthony agrees. “You wanna fuck my throat?”
Travis feels dizzy. Anthony is perfect in every sense of the word. He’s a diamond in the rough club. Travis has done this a not-small number of times. In his years, he’s learned when someone is a good partner, and when they’re not. Anthony, on his knees in a crowded club, not concerned with anything other than Travis’s cock, so fucking eager to please, puts him securely in the good category.
Travis doesn’t give him a verbal answer. He tightens his grip on Anthony’s hair. When the other man gives a small affirmative nod, Travis pulls him down until his entire dick is in his mouth. Anthony gags, nose buried deep in Travis’s pubes. Everything in his brain screams at him to push off. He doesn’t. He digs his fingers into Travis’s thighs and reminds himself to breathe deeply through his nose.
“Good boy,” Travis groans. “Give me a tap on my leg if you need a break, okay?”
Anthony hums in understanding. It’s all Travis needs to hear. He pulls Anthony back until his pretty blue eyes can meet Travis’s. Travis thrusts forward, watching as his eyes water as he tries to fight off his gag reflex. Anthony, attempting to swallow around him does nothing. Saliva dribbles down his chin, chilly in the air-conditioned club.
Travis starts shallow, just enough to graze the back of Anthony’s throat but not breach it. He takes it beautifully. He hardly flinches. The only indication of struggle is his fingers flexing against Travis’s thighs every time the head of his cock pokes at Anthony’s uvula.
Anthony doesn’t get a warning. Travis snaps his hips forward, and he slides down the back of Anthony’s throat. With his nose against Travis’s stomach, he has nowhere to go. He gags, trembling in Travis’s hold. He doesn’t let up. Anthony’s watering eyes are too entrancing for him to stop.
Anthony doesn’t tap the outside of Travis’s thigh like he’d been told to, so he doesn’t stop. Anthony does his best to fight off gags as Travis chases his orgasm. He’s not very successful, but the sound of Anthony choking on his cock goes straight to Travis’s core.
“Fuck,” he moans. “Fuck, close, close. Can I cum in your mouth?”
Anthony hums around him, big eyes staring up at him, and it’s over. Travis cums down his throat, dick twitching against his soft palate. Anthony squeezes his eyes shut, focusing on swallowing it down. If any of the safety monitors noticed they’d been playing without condoms, they’d both be banned. Anthony is trying his best to make sure that doesn’t happen.
“Fuck,” Travis curses as he pulls out. Anthony swallows what’s left in his mouth, tongue swiping over his bottom lip to collect what’s spilled out. “That was fucking incredible. Can I give you a hand?”
Anthony shakes his head. He kisses Travis’s exposed hip. “I can handle myself. I’m just glad I made you feel good.”
“You deserve a payback after that.”
“I’m good,” Anthony insists. “Don’t worry about me, Daddy. Happy to help.”
Anthony doesn’t tell Travis he’s already cum untouched in his pants, high on the pleasure of a cock in his mouth. What the man doesn’t know won’t hurt him.