The prompt for October 5-6 is FAIRY (which I interpreted as fae) and I chose bondage as the kink. (prompt credit: Tia Liet)
(CW: while no characters are harmed during this short, the scenario depicted is not meant to represent realistic or safe BDSM practices)
When the last attendee shuffled wine-drunk into the night, Mads locked the gallery door. He felt good about how his show had gone, emphasized by his suit pocket stuffed with enough business cards to fill a rolodex.
He’d specified in the show contract that after close, he’d need an hour alone to dismantle one of his pieces—the integral part of the show, if he was being honest. He paused to catch his reflection in the darkened window façade—he looked as tired as he felt—before he faced the empty showroom, grateful to finally be alone. He’d be doubly pleased when he was back home and could exchange the stuffy suit—the one Helo insisted he wear—for loose joggers and a t-shirt.
His boots smacked engineered hardwood as he rounded a white partition, covered in his photographs—suggestive shots of bound bodies and tasteful nudes, black and white with an occasional burst of color; the red of silk rope or blue lace from a slip of lingerie.
His eye for style had been revered all night, but as beloved as his photos were, they weren’t the heart of the show that made Mads smile when he raised his head.
There—suspended in the center of the gallery by way of ceiling hooks and reinforced silk rope—dangled the subject of his photos, model and muse; his husband Helo, body stretched languidly against restraints that held him poised mid-air.
Mads had done the ropework himself, weaving the red cords around Helo’s body like wrapping a delicate gift. The only part left unbound was Helo’s paper-thin wings, crystallized in the gallery lighting like lime sugar rimmed with blood. They fluttered at an odd angle because of the rope, curling and uncurling around the moth fae’s head. A blindfold had kept the stark white lights out of Helo’s eyes, but now, with only the low lights on, Mads slipped a tentative finger under the fabric. He found Helo’s eyes closed, more in prayer than sleep.
“You were perfect, little moth,” Mads murmured, running the back of one knuckle along a furry antenna.
His husband jerked, moaning softly, and Mads dropped his hand. Helo’s sensitive antennae were usually concealed beneath a knitted beanie, or the hood of one of Mads’s sweatshirts, but Helo had agreed to complete nudity for the installation. I want to do it right, he’d said.
“I’m going to take you down, sweetness,” Mads hummed. “Nice and easy.”
Helo replied with a lone, affirmative sound and closed his eyes again.
Mads began the untethering by releasing Helo’s legs from the ceiling, one foot at a time, each limb caressed gently as Mads lowered them to the floor. Once both legs were free, Mads unwound the tension rope secured around Helo’s torso, overly cautious around his frail wings. With his body uncradled from the ceiling, Helo had enough autonomy to kneel on the floor, knees split, eyes still shut.
Red for the ropes had been Helo’s pick, and as much as Mads agreed it looked divine against his leafy pallor, he had to get them off.
Mads sat in front of Helo on the floor and crossed his legs. “Come here,” he said, trying to keep urgency out of his voice. He’d asked for an hour because this part could have taken that long. Or it could have been two seconds of freedom before Helo’s big eyes blinked open and he demanded they pick up dinner on the way home.
Helo crawled forward on his knees alone—his hands were bound across his chest—before he dropped in Mads’s lap. “Not yet,” he whispered, and Mads felt the tickle of antennae against his neck.
“It’s been hours, little moth,” Mads warned, already reaching for the preliminary knot that would unravel his intricate work.
Helo shrugged a shoulder, then sighed. “I’m fine.”
Mads drummed up warning without adding volume to his voice. “Helo.”
Helo’s head rolled against Mads shoulder, and the look on his face was split between a plea and a pout. “Five more minutes?”
Mads chuckled. “Now.”
“Fine,” Helo muttered.
Mads pulled on the titular knot, and Helo’s wrists uncoiled from his chest, hands slapping against his thighs when they fell. Mads reached for the raw skin beneath the loosened ropes, urging blood to circulate with his thumbs. He worked Helo’s fists open and found the Bluetooth clicker that he’d given him in case something went wrong mid-suspension.
The rest of the ropes were tugged gently away, until Helo was naked and curled against Mads, humming softly.
“What do you need, sweetness?” Mads murmured, fingers squeezing a path down Helo’s arms to test for sore spots. “Tell me.”
“This,” Helo said, pressing his face tight into Mads’s suit jacket. “Just this.”
“Well, we don’t have to go home, but we can’t—”
“Don’t.” But against his neck, Mads felt Helo grin.
Mads laughed softly. “What are you feeling for dinner?” he asked, finally wrapping his arms around Helo like he’d wanted to do from the moment he’d been beautifully trussed up. “Steak? Noodles?”
Helo shook his head.
“Gonna make me work for it, huh?”
“Not hungry,” Helo said.
“Don’t do the thing.” Helo lifted his head so Mads could see his face. “I’m fine.”
Even if Helo looked fine, Mads wasn’t convinced. He stroked Helo’s shimmery neck for a moment before he asked, “How did it feel?”
“Amazing,” Helo breathed, smiling. “Like I was floating, but…” His wings fluttered at the memory. “Not exactly flying.” He sighed, radiating bliss. “I want to do it again.”
The word No swelled in Mads’s mind as much as his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. “We’ll talk about it,” Mads said, his voice a gentle reassurance as much as a command. “But at home, after food and rest.” Then he leaned in, antennae brushing his forehead before he kissed Helo’s temple. “I’m proud of you, little moth. You did so well today.”
“Thank you for letting me be in your show,” Helo said, and Mads had to tamp down his panic when he saw tears welling up in Helo’s yellow eyes.
“Oh, sweetness,” Mads said, his heart crumbling as he kissed Helo’s cheeks. “The pleasure’s all mine.”