"See, you're already learning," Liam said, holding to that fine line between condescending and approving, without clearly being on either side. He ran his hands briefly through Mike's hair before moving down over the man's neck and shoulders. He squeezed, gentle and firm. A reassuring sort of touch. As if to say he was there for comfort and support.

Liam and learned from a very young age that rewarding people in small but seemingly genuine ways got such better results than simply hurting them all the time. His brother had been his first test subject for these things. After long stretches of yelling at his brother to stop crying, or threatening to hurt him more if he ever told, it was always those seemingly insignificant gestures of kindness that got Billy to do what he wanted. And the more he toyed with that, the better he got at it. He was sure that if even now he could get Billy wrapped around his finger once more, just with a show of relief that his dear brother was still alive.

"We're almost there..." he said softly, right against Mike's ear. His fingers dragged over the man's sides, the touch teasing through the canvas.

He found the very last straps. Two dangling from the front of the coat, made of canvas rather than leather. He reached for the first one by sliding a hand over Mike's backside, his fingers teasing over the crease at the top of his thigh, before snagging the strap. All without touching that needy cock. As he secured the loose end to the back of the jacket, the strap pressed and rubbed in all manner of frustrating ways, and would do so with every shift Mike made inside the jacket. He repeated the process, even slower, with the second strap. Drawing it out as if that final anchoring point was something to be savored.

He let out a slow, unsteady breath that fell just short of a moan, before saying, "there. All done."