splitmemory | The Care and Keeping of Bunnies

Cater’s soft hands against his length felt far better than he could have ever imagined they would. His breath catches, heart picking up the pace, but he does his best to keep his cool, to stay even and composed as he presses his finger further into Cater, until he can’t push it any further. Shifting it inside of him, he feels around, pressing his finger against his inner walls before pulling it back out to add a second. This time he’s a bit quicker with getting it all the way inside of him, spreading him without seeming to worry too much about possibly being too rough with him. His two fingers press deep within him, scouring his walls, mercilessly pressing against different spots within him as he moves them.

Instinct or not, he’s clearly very focused, his opposite hand shifting to wrap back around Cater’s own cock, wanting to tease him, to see how he might react to the pleasure from both ends.

It becomes quickly obvious just what kind of effect that Rayne is having on him. from the noises he starts to make. Just that exploration was so exciting, but when Rayne's fingertips attack his most sensitive spots, he doesn't hide how good it feels--so Rayne will know just where to keep hitting him. Things only compound with that other hand wrapped around his cock again. It still feels a little oversensitive even as it's re-hardened, and Cater lets out a plaintive whine at the sudden onslaught of pleasure.

"Mmm, Rayne..."

Cater all but purrs the other boy's name as he continues to stroke him, his own movements growing needier, more insistent. How he could fell all of this and still want more, he didn't know, but it was the one word that kept coming to mind. More, more, more!

Rayne seems to be less about making noises, biting them back. Instead, the only indication of his enjoyment is the twitching of his arousal against Cater's hand, the way his breathing catches, comes out in small pants. His fingers continue moving within Cater, his hand stroking him in almost the same needy pace as Cater begins to take against him. Rayne almost loses himself in the moment, nearly forgetting there was more that he wanted to do, more that he wanted from this moment.

His hands both retreat from Cater, only to grab hold of his wrist, wrenching it away from him. His own cock was leaking lightly with pre, his face burning-- any longer and he might've reached his own orgasm just from Cater's hand. One hand holds onto his wrist, the other grabbing his hip and forcing him to turn around, before grabbing his opposite wrist, dragging both behind his back.

Using Cater's own tie, he binds his wrists together -- messily, but it's done -- before pressing his hand against the back of his head and forcing him to bend over his desk, shoving his face into it.

"You didn't ask if you could touch me." Rayne huffs out, one hand still resting against Cater's bound wrists, the other against the back of his head, tangled in his hair. "Do I need to make you helpless so you'll behave?"

There's a question in his eyes that Cater doesn't have time to fully process, when Rayne pulls away. Too soon afterward, he's being flipped around and bound, the Divine Visionary handling him with ease. Cater wasn't expecting to end up with his hands tied, but he doesn't complain. As always, it only seems to make him even more eager--he gasps as he's bent roughly over, instinctively widening the stance of his legs.

He could apologize...but he's enjoying Rayne's idea of discipline just a bit too much.

"You're so sexy, how can I help myself?" His breath hits the desk, heats his flushed skin even farther as it bounces back toward him. "Maybe I need a lesson."

Cater looked so good like this. With his head against the desk, his chest resting against it, his legs spreading further on instinct. So eager for more, for whatever Rayne was going to give him. Chewing on his bottom lip, he slips his hand back from Cater's wrists, running his fingers down along his skin. Down the curve of his ass, along the back of his thigh and right back up. Admiring him, silently, giving himself time to come down a little from the near orgasm.

"Yeah, you do," He breathes out, leaning over Cater to press a kiss between his shoulder blades. In a second, he presses his hips close to Cater's, grinding himself up against him, dragging his dick between his ass cheeks with a low groan. "Maybe I'll tease you for a while..." Rayne muses, his hold on Cater's hair softening.

"... But I'm already punishing you, aren't I? For earlier," His hand releases Cater's hair, instead brushing some of it to the side to allow Rayne to press his lips against the back of his neck instead, leaning over Cater to do so. "Not being able to see me could be enough, if you like looking at me that much."

Even that little bit of teasing makes him whine, his hips straining for more contact from Rayne's erection, so hot against his skin. "Don't tease me," he protests, if not altogether very hard. "I want you so badly already."

He misses the feeling of those fingers gripped in his hair as soon as they're gone, but Cater doesn't mind the replacement. The weight of Rayne leaning over him, his mouth against his skin. A shudder of anticipation ripples through him.

Rayne was right--it was a punishment, in its own way. As sexual as this position was, as much as he liked it, Cater did miss being able to watch the other boy as he considered what to do, as he touched him. Missed those eyes, no matter how harshly they often bore into him.

For a man who was so patient normally, those little whines send shivers down him, make him want nothing more than to shove himself inside Cater and make him let out more of those pretty moans and cries. An unbearable heat rests within his abdomen, practically screaming for more, for him.

This position, although sexual, didn't have any hint of the care that the previous one almost had, with how they were able to look into each other's eyes, how Cater was able to tangle his fingers in Rayne's hair. This was more detached, further from intimacy, regardless of how full of lust it was.

With his free hand, he grabs at the lube, uncapping it messily and dripping some of the cool liquid over his own arousal. The bottle is set back down, hand coming down to spread the lubrication over him, as he moves to position himself against Cater's entrance. He probably could've used a little more prep time, but-- well, he doesn't want to wait anymore.

His lips make contact with his shoulder from behind, and, as he begins to press into Cater, his mouth opens to allow him to bite down against him, to distract him from any discomfort with a different kind of discomfort.

It's a good thing that the walls in the dorms are so thick, because when Rayne pushes into him and bites him at the same time, he lets out such an elicit cry it would make even a sinner blush. With his hands bound behind him, though, he has no way to muffle himself outside of biting his lip. Cater's forehead presses hard into the desk, his sensors all on overdrive. Where does he focus? Where does he start?

Rayne's cock stretches him open so deliciously, and all he can think is how he wants it to move, to stimulate him again and again. Impatient, his hips push back against Rayne's pelvis, trying to get him as deep as possible. More, more, his brain still chants, abuzz with pleasure. Give it to me!

Oh. Oh. Rayne is suddenly very glad that Cater can't see him, can't see the intense flush that the cry brings to his face. How was he supposed to handle Cater crying out so loud, so intensely, clearly finding so much pleasure in what he was doing. Rayne gasps against his skin, too, at the feeling of his walls pressing around his length, as Cater's hips press back against him.

He can't think.

As those hips shift, Rayne can't help but press himself further, until he's all the way inside of Cater, his teeth pressing further into his skin as he attempts to bite back a moan. Such a new feeling for him was overwhelming, especially with how worked up he'd already gotten, with how Cater had already been touching him, getting him to such a point--

Pushing himself to sit up, needing to remove his teeth from Cater to do so, he grabs at his hips with both hands. One slides down to one of Cater's thighs, grabbing onto it and hoisting it up some, being careful not to push him too hard. His hand shifts to hook around his leg to hold it up.

Without thinking that, maybe, Cater would need a minute to adjust, he starts moving. His thrusts aren't slow, aren't careful, beginning to pound into Cater as if he was nothing more than a toy for him to use.

No more flirtatious banter, no more words. Rayne adjusting their position is the only reprieve he gets before he kicks into high gear. Cater's face twists, eyes squeezed shut and brows furrowed as he's fucked into the desk, huffing and puffing and moaning with each slap of their bodies together. Behind his back, Cater's fingers clench tight. There's just a slight edge of pain to it, due to Rayne's inexperience, but Cater doesn't tell him to stop--doesn't want him to stop.

It feels too good, even with the discomfort. The sounds they're making, from their breathing to their bodies to the clattering of the desk against the wall only serves to funnel pleasure straight into his cock. There's nothing romantic about it, just straight stimulation against his prostate, shocking his nerves. Cater's harsh moans taper into a whimper as he feels an orgasm punch out of him, shooting against his thighs.

Did they need words, for something like this? Something that was so unabashedly focused solely on the feelings in their bodies, the pleasure that they could draw from one another? Rayne can't hold back any of his own soft noises now, too focused on the warmth that surrounded him, the pressure, the desire he felt. Even as that little whimper escapes Cater, as he makes a mess of his own thighs, as his body tightens, Rayne isn't done with him.

Slowly, fingers move up along his body, coming back up to his chest, to taunt sensitive skin under his own touch. He knows Cater must be getting oversensitive by now. That thought only pushes him further. Letting down Cater's leg carefully, adjusting their position again, he moves his hand around him, wrapping his fingers around his cock, massaging that red tip with his thumb ruthlessly. He knew if he wasn't careful, he'd release inside of him before long, but... who can blame him for wanting to mess with him for just a little longer, to touch all those sensitive spots on him, to make him writhe?

Rayne has Cater right where he wants him--and gets exactly what he was hoping for. Fresh off of a climax, he gulps down air sharply when Rayne squeezes him, toying him without mercy. He's never really explored himself when he's so oversensitive, and the way stars explode behind his eyelids is completely new to him. Cater's body twists and squirms involuntarily, hips jerking and walls squeezing Rayne hard.

When Rayne had tied him down, he'd asked if he needed to make Cater feel helpless--and now, like this, he was feeling it. Half immobilized and tormented with pleasure, his nerves were on reacting on instinct and there was nothing he could do to curb them. Cater's whines are desperate and pleading in the absence of words. Was he going to cum again? Could he? Would it even feel good?

This was exactly what he'd hoped for. The way Cater's body twists, squirms against him. His fingers tug against the nub on his chest, squeezing and pulling without a care in the world for how Cater might be feeling. What he wanted was to keep hearing those noises, those whines, those desperate pleas. To watch his nerves react on instinct, to feel his walls tighten around him--

Still, Rayne wasn't experienced enough to hold himself back. His hand against Cater's dick was desperate, needy in its rapid strokes and the teasing of his tip, as his hips continue to move, to thrust into him. At last, he pushes in one last time, as deep as he could get in this position, unable to keep himself from spilling over inside of him.

Cater discovers that yes, he can cum again that quickly. It's a dribbling, physically weak splurt forced out of him, but it feels anything but weak to his poor, overstimulated body. He shakes as Rayne jerks him, as Rayne's own orgasm hits and fills him. The way he sits so deep inside is its own sort of reprieve, his chest heaving against the top of his desk.

Later, he's going to be incredibly sore, but right now his head is swimming too hard for him to think about it. Hearing and feeling Rayne's own heavy breathing feels good in its own right, a soothing follow-up to the intensity of what he just went through. Still, his body is so tense--every time Cater starts to relax, a jolt of an aftershock wracks him, eliciting another gasp and whine from the redhead.

"R-Rayne," he finally whimpers as his senses begin to slowly return to him. "Please untie me."

Breathing felt like such a heavy task in its own right. His hands still, the one around Cater's cock finally releasing him, his forehead resting down against Cater's back as he tries to focus on breathing, on getting his heart to slow back to a manageable pace. It's only when he hears his own name that he comes to a little more.

Pulling back slightly, he looks down at Cater. Oh. He'd-- really made him into a mess, hadn't he?

With a small huff, he pulls out of Cater, gasping out as he does. Both of his hands move, one down to his hip to keep him stable and the other up to his wrists, carefully untying them. The tie is tossed aside, his arms carefully shifted by Rayne to help him stretch them out.

That done, he grabs at the tissue box on the desk, giving Cater a quick wipe down with a few of them, as the other teen was coming down from it all. It'd have to do for now.

His own pants and tugged up messily, enough that he'd be able to walk. Without a word, he helps Cater sit up and get to his own feet from the desk, before scooping him up in his arms. One arm under his knees, the other holding his back up. He felt a little guilty, for having gone so hard on him, so it was only right that he help him get into bed to rest, right?

Overwhelmed as he is, Cater isn't at all expecting Rayne to do so much for him. Not that he was expecting cruel treatment in the wake of all that, mind you, but wiping him down and then--oh, picking him up. His muscles feel so shaky he probably would've stumbled as soon as he stood up, wouldn't he?

It's a short trip from the desk to his bed, but Cater doesn't complain, allowing himself to be cradled to Rayne's chest as he's carried. Once he's sat down, he raises his still-trembling arms to catch the other boy's face, bringing him in for a kiss. In that moment, Cater didn't have a single word to say--so he'd let his affection speak for itself.

There's definitely no hard feelings about having been treated so mercilessly.

Cruel and dismissive as Rayne was, even he wouldn't treat Cater poorly after everything they'd just done. Not only because of the guilt forming like a knot in his stomach, burning in his chest, but also-- just looking at Cater, the boy looked so pathetic it was hard not to pity him, a little bit. And, if he was honest with how he felt, he didn't want to treat Cater all that horribly, especially not after their first time.

Those shaky hands catch his face. Rayne allows himself to be pulled down, returning the kiss. It's a little difficult, with the positioning forcing him to lean down at an awkward angle. Sliding his knee up onto the mattress, a hand down by Cater's head, he adjusts the position for himself to make it easier.

After a second, he breaks the kiss, pushing himself up to look down at him, only half sitting on the bed.

"... Are you okay?" He finally asks.

Cater's reluctant to let the kiss break but he smiles at Rayne, letting out a huff of laughter, still pretty breathless. "Yeah, I'm good. Better than good."

Just exhausted, gooey, and reeling. It felt like he'd been unraveling mentally, totally out of his mind with pleasure. In the heat of the moment, it was kind of scary, most certainly overwhelming. Now that he was starting to come down from that high, though, with Rayne there over him he was practically cozy. A giddiness is spreading in his stomach as it sinks in that the two of them really hooked up.

Cater's hand sinks, fingers curling against Rayne's arm. His gaze is still hazy, but it's starting to regain some clarity.

"Hey, make yourself comfortable."

How in the world did Cater take all of that and then still manage to laugh? To be okay? It's a shock to Rayne, who honestly didn't expect Cater to last that long or be able to handle all of that-- all of his cruelty, in one interaction.

The hand against his arm, fingers curling there, causes Rayne to glance down, his jaw tightening. A glance is spared towards the dorm door. No one would be coming here, no one could even see the two of them right now. He'd be a liar if he said he didn't want to slip down to wrap his arms around Cater.

Shifting, he ends up laying down on his side, his arms both slipping around Cater's waist, his chin pressing against Cater's shoulder, eyes focused on him. This-- was probably the closest they'd ever gotten, aside from the obvious. In a way, he felt starved for affection, with how he pushed away the one person who could offer it, time and time again.

"..." As much as he wants to murmur compliments, to say something, he's too unsure, too repressed to even KNOW what to say, after unloading all of that pent up energy onto Cater.

A part of him had expected Rayne to decline, so when he does lay with him, holds him, Cater feels his heart flutter. He places a hand at Rayne's neck, stroking the skin there with his thumb, and takes slow breaths to calm his heartrate. It's soothing, having a body there with him, especially after things had gotten so deeply intense. The fact that Rayne says nothing doesn't bother Cater, who always seems to have something ready to say.

For once, he can enjoy the silence, the sound of just their breathing, as they keep each other close. No one needed to ever know that they were here--it was a safe, private space, and there wouldn't be anyone coming to interrupt them. Somehow, the idea of being caught with their arms around each other was scarier than being caught just with their pants down. Mouth at Rayne's temple, Cater brushes his lips against the other boy's hair. Even though he'd been the one handled so roughly, he touches Rayne as if to soothe him.

Just as a part of Cater expected him to decline, a part of Rayne wanted to deny him, to leave without another thought. It was too dangerous to stay for so long, especially after what they'd been doing. The tendency to overthink, to believe something might be more dangerous than it actually is, was one that Rayne was privy to, especially now. That hand against his neck helps ground him, stills his mind for long enough that his hold on Cater tightens slightly.

His fingers press against Cater's side, touch careful against his skin, as if worried he might hurt him if he wasn't careful enough, regardless of how rough he'd already been with him. This couldn't become a regular occurrence, could it? Even with what he'd said, even with how he wanted to keep Cater all to himself... that was unreasonable, wasn't it?

No -- if it's unreasonable, Rayne doesn't care. Tilting his head slightly down, he shifts to press his cheek more against Cater's shoulder instead of his chin resting there, nudging close.

"... You can't tell anyone." Rayne finally mutters out, as if to double check that it was clear to Cater, too.

The Care and Keeping of Bunnies

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