"Maybe I should get a silver stud right there," G said as Sam stroked his cock.

"Nope," Sam said, gripping tighter. It was an order, and G knew it.

He did like provoking Sam.

"Maybe a nipple ring," G said, "Could be fun."

Sam stopped.

G sighed. He pushed too far.

Sam pinched his nipple then, hard. G winced (he was allowed to wince in front of Sam; he was allowed to show anything to Sam).

"Okay," G said, catching his breath. "Maybe the tattoo idea was right all along. Maybe a design, right here, covering this," G said, gesturing at his chest and stomach.

Sam raised an eyebrow as he ran his hand up G's torso. "No."

"Why not?" He could push Sam just a little bit farther, G guessed.

"You know why not."

"It's already messed up plenty, might as well cover it," G said, running his finger along a scar on his side (he has too many scars, he knows, his body has been warped by too many mistakes).

Sam placed his hand over G's, above his scar, and pressed down. "Every one of these scars represents a time you survived. I love these scars. You don't hide these from me, understand?"

G nodded. "And the piercings?" He was breathing hard (he always did when Sam was possessive, when Sam made him feel, blissfully, like he could never escape).

"I said no," Sam said, gruff now. "And you'll do as I say." He gripped G by the hips and pressed him back against the wall. "Tell me why, G." Sam's lips hovered close to his.

"My body belongs to you," G said, breathlessly.

"Say it again," Sam ordered.

"I belong to you," G said, arching his body closer to Sam's.

Sam grabbed his jaw and kissed him, long, aggressive. After all this time, he could still leave G feeling overwhelmed.

When they parted, G smiled up at him. "What would you have done if I had gotten a tattoo without asking?"

Sam slapped his thigh, hard, and smiled. "You don't even want to know. I should punish you just for thinking of that question."

"You probably should," G said, smiling back. "Otherwise, I'll never learn."