Help Me Help You

Rating: NC-17

Fandom: Bandom

Ships: Wentzmoore

Warnings: needles/injections, light bdsm

Sonny swallows thickly as Pete circles him. He’s down on his knees on the floor of a hotel room, dressed only in his boxers and his binder, and he feels so vulnerable. Pete’s not really mad at him and he knows it, but either way, a pleasurable anxiety bubbles up within him. His cock swells just knowing the things Pete could do to him- he’s sure he won’t do anything particularly painful, because his punishments usually aren’t too severe, but it’s not knowing that sends that pleasurable tingle through his body, gets him hot and wanting before Pete has even touched him. Sonny looks up when Pete finally stills in front of him. 

“You’d think you’d remember to take your shots by now,” Pete chides, arms crossed. He’s half-naked himself, stripped down to his jeans and boots, shirt long discarded to show off his stomach tattoo and his top surgery scars. One foot swings forward to rest the sole of his boot over Sonny’s crotch, and he applies light pressure until a moan and a shudder involuntarily escape the boy. Pete grins.

“Or maybe you just like when I remind you, huh? Your dick’s getting bigger by the day, you know. It’s not like I can’t see that you’re already hard.”

Sonny bites at his lip stud and closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. He’s not sure how he’s gonna sit through his shot and a punishment without going crazy with desperation. Damn tease. 

“I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll try to remember…”

“This is the third week in a row, Son. I think you’re starting to like your punishments too much.”

That might be true. Sonny opens his eyes in time to see Pete bending over him, a mischievous smirk gracing his features. Something says Sonny definitely won’t like this punishment at all.

“Get up,” Pete commands, his voice low, and Sonny obeys, slowly rising to his feet. Pete then makes his way to the bed and sits at the foot- Sonny’s needles and testosterone lay next to him, and Pete pats his thigh in invitation. Sonny lays over top Pete’s lap, shuddering. This is the humiliating part- if Sonny doesn’t do his injection every week, Pete will do it for him, no matter how much he insists he can do it himself. And Pete injects it exactly where the bottle tells him to. 

Pete pulls down Sonny’s boxers, rubbing his hand over the giving flesh of his ass. Pete gives it a little smack, and Sonny squeaks in surprise, before Pete’s hand disappears altogether. Sonny looks behind himself just far enough to see Pete drawing up the medication. He swallows thickly and turns back around. There’s a long, anticipatory moment, one where Sonny can hear his heart beat in his ears and he’s hyper-aware of every movement Pete makes until- 

Sonny’s bracing for it, but he still jolts a little when the needle breaks the skin. It feels almost akin to swelling as the fluid is forced inside him. A few seconds later, though, Pete removes the needle, and his hand returns to Sonny’s asscheek, gently massaging the site of injection, slightly sore. Sonny groans as he lets his head rest on the bedsheets, muscles relaxing. He can feel his heart racing. 

“So- what’s my punishment this time, Sir?” He asks, after a long moment. Pete hums and runs a hand through the submissive’s hair.

“I think you’ll remember your next shot if you’re not allowed to cum until then,” Pete proposes, and Sonny can’t see it but he can hear the smirk in his voice. “How does that sound?”

Sonny takes a deep breath, presses his legs together just slightly. “That sounds fair, Sir.”