by C J Baty
Robert laughed, took a big bite out of one slice of pizza, chewed and swallowed. "Because, I'm a nice guy."
Robert popped open and downed half of one beer before he smiled at Damien. He filled a wine glass and served Damien a slice of pizza on a plate.
"Eat up."
Between the two of them, they managed to eat ninety percent of the pizza, four beers and half the bottle of wine. For dessert, they split a piece of chocolate layer cake.
Damien had moaned and groaned with every bite of cake he took. Robert was laughing so hard he couldn't talk.
"When was the last time you had a piece of cake? A hundred years ago?"
Robert chuckled, watching Damien lick his fork for the last tidbits of fudge icing.
"You don't understand," Damien said. "Chocolate is my Achilles heel."
"What the fuck does that mean?"
"It means that once I start I can't stop. I adore chocolate but I just can't have it." Damien pushed himself away from the table. "Look at me."
Robert was looking at him. Damien was an incredibly attractive man. A little thin, but what an ass he had. From the very first time Robert had laid eyes on him, he'd been attracted to Damien, even if he didn't want to admit it.
Spending time with Damien lately had proven to Robert that there was more to the man than he had ever imagined. First, the mutual love they seemed to have for the stars and constellations, and now this thing with chocolate.
"Well?" Damien asked.
"I am looking at you and... I need a shower." Robert rose from his seat at their shared table, grabbed his overnight bag and headed to the bathroom.
Chapter Seven
Damien put the remaining bottles of beer in the small refrigerator by the dressing area. Secured the lid on the red wine and placed it on the counter.
Then, he pulled off his T-shirt and threw it at the foot of the bed. Listening for a moment, hearing the water still running in the bathroom, he shut off the light between the beds. Sinking into the crisp sheets, Damien relaxed.
He wasn't sure what he would do about Robert Wyler. It was clear he was attracted to him. They were so different, yet something about Robert called to Damien. The man who'd ordered a pizza he actually liked and wine he would drink was so different from the blustering arrogant man who wouldn't even let Damien take him out for a meal after he'd saved Damien's life.
There was also the man who had held Damien when he was falling apart.
What side of Robert Wyler was that? Would he ever be able to understand this man? He'd think about it another day. Tonight, all he wanted to do was sleep. As he drifted, he heard the water in the shower stop and someone humming a slow song.
"You are amazing tonight," Carter said as he kissed my neck. "I want to take you home and eat you up."
Damien had never been so loved and cared for. Carter took care of him, took care of everything, and all he had to do was let him.
But things changed.
"You are good for nothing," Carter said as his open palm made contact with Damien's face. The slap was so hard it knocked him off his feet and he fell onto the floor. "You're a piece of shit. Why do I put up with you?"
Then things got worse.
Damien reeled from the hit to his kidneys. He'd be bruised there for sure.
His left wrist throbbed so much he couldn't feel his fingers anymore. Carter had stepped on it while he was doubled over on the floor. That's when Carter kicked him in the head and he blacked out.
He woke in the hospital. A police officer stood in the corner of the room.
Damien didn't want to say what had happened to him. He was so embarrassed. To admit that his boyfriend had beaten him this badly was something he could never do. The officer told him to file a complaint and not go back, but Damien didn't listen.
He promised to change.
"Baby, listen. I'm sorry I hurt you. Really, I am. But it was your own fault.
You didn't listen to me when I told you, you couldn't talk to those guys at the club." Carter was holding his hand and squeezing. It hurt.
"You will listen to me from now on, won't you, Damien?" Damien nodded his agreement.
But he didn't do it right and Carter had to punish him.
He woke disoriented and confused. He shivered. The air in the room chilled his naked body. It was large and dark but familiar. Why couldn't he move?
His wrists and his ankles were bound by ropes that bit into his skin. He pulled at his restraints, but they wouldn't budge. There was the strong order of disinfectant. It burned his nostrils as he came to realize that he was trapped. Ensnared by the man who said he loved him.
A door slammed shut and footsteps echoed in the hollow expanse of the basement. Carter was coming back. Oh god, he was coming back. Why hadn't Damien died? He should have died while his tormentor had left him alone. He wanted to die now. Tears dripped down the sides of his face, but he didn't cry out. If he did that, there was no doubt more pain would follow.
"It was wrong of you to try to run away from me, Damien. There's no one out there who is going to love you. Look at you, you're nothing. Your body is scarred and ugly." Carter stood above him and whispered the words close to Damien's head. His fist suddenly landed with a loud smack on the table.
Damien jumped.
"You are mine, Damien. Every last inch of you." Carter's fingers slipped down Damien's body. He shivered at the touch. There was a time when that touch brought so much pleasure, now he knew it was only a prelude to the pain coming.
"I'm going to untie you, Damien. Not because you deserve it, oh no. You have been very, very bad. But I want to see you on your knees. If you do as you are told, I might reward you." Carter laughed as he slipped a knife under the ropes at Damien's wrist.
Damien flinched, waiting for the blade to twist and slice into him. When it didn't come, Damien opened his eyes to see Carter staring down at him.
"You're learning. You know the pain is coming and you prepare for it." Carter slapped him. "So, I'll just have to make it a surprise."
The knife sliced through his left thigh. It stung, and when the air hit the open wound, it burned. Damien wanted to scream, but he didn't. That was the only thing he had left, his silence, because Carter hated it.
"I'll make you scream!" he shouted, and sliced across Damien's thigh again.
Damien felt the blood seeping from his wounds and he wondered, if he stayed silent long enough, would Carter finally kill him. He prayed he would.
Carter's breaths were deep and ragged. Damien felt the knife at his ankle now. Felt the pressure of the blade as it cut through the ropes there. Carter pushed him off the table onto the floor and Damien lay there for a time, stunned by the fall.
"Get on your damn knees. I'm your master and you are here to please me."
Damien got to his knees. His head was spinning. The pin and needle sensation took hold and it was difficult to balance when his legs were so numb.
Carter grabbed his hair and jerked his head back. "Look at me!"
When Damien opened his eyes and looked up, Carter's erect cock bounced in front of his face. He swallowed and bit back the bile rolling in his stomach. He had to do this, and Carter had to enjoy it, or there would be more beatings. If only his head would stop spinning.
"Open!"
Carter used him. Forced him to take every brutal thrust. It seemed to go on forever. Damien began to think something was wrong and panic built inside
him. Carter cursed louder. Fucked his mouth harder. Damien tasted the bitter tang of iron. Then, Carter's thighs became rigid and his release flooded Damien's throat. It was over.
Damien collapsed on the floor, facedown. He hoped Carter would go away and there would be some peace for a while. He should have known better.
The leather belt hit him across his buttocks over and over and over again.
With each smack to his body, he lost a little more of himself. Crying out loud now—sobbing—begging Carter to stop. But Carter didn't. He laughe
d at Damien, and the pain just kept coming.
Damien was screaming. He was fighting back. This time Carter would not break him. He would not give into the pain and the humiliation of Carter's beatings and torture. Damien swung his arms and hit the man trying to hurt him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this was just a nightmare, but still he fought on. Carter was not in this room. This was not the basement where he had suffered for weeks and then nearly died.
"Damien." Someone was calling his name.
"Damien, wake up," Robert said.
Yes, it was Robert.
"I'll let you go as soon as you open your eyes and look at me."
There was an elephant sitting on his chest. It held him pressed into the mattress. The monster held his arms so he couldn't hit out at his captor.
"Stop kicking me, damn it! Wake up."
Robert? Why was Robert Wyler always there when he woke up from these damn nightmares?
Blood seeped from Robert's bottom lip, and he had the beginnings of a bruise under his right eye. Did I do that, Damien wondered? He smiled to himself at the thought.
"Get the fuck off me, you beast," Damien finally got out before he started to laugh.
"I don't see what's so funny." Robert wiped his lip as he slid to the side of the bed.
Robert's cock brushed against Damien's hip as he moved. Gooseflesh popped out over Damien's bare chest. He remembered removing his shirt before he went to bed. Seeing Robert now, Damien knew that he had taken everything Damien had been lashing out. He was sorry that he'd hurt him.
"I'm sorry," Damien said as he reached for the bruise and touched it gently.
"I wasn't fighting you. It was...."
"I know. A nightmare, and I couldn't wake you."
Damien shuddered. He sat up in the bed and looked around for his shirt. He wasn't cold, but he didn't want Robert to see the scars. Spotting his shirt on the floor between the beds, he reached for it. A growl came from the man sitting on the other side of the bed and Damien knew that Robert had seen what he was trying to cover up.
"He did this to you?" Robert's fingers grazed Damien's skin.
Damien froze where he was, gripping his shirt. "Yes," Damien whispered. "I know it's ugly. He always reminded me just how ugly I was."
Damien pulled away from Robert's gentle touch and slipped his T-shirt on.
The last thing he needed was pity from someone else.
"I... I'm going to the bathroom," Damien said as he stood and walked away from the bed.
He looked in the mirror at himself as he ran the water in the sink. Splashing his face removed some of the damp, clammy feeling that was always there after one of these nightmares. But the look of terror was still there in his eyes. Carter couldn't be the one doing this to him. Damien just couldn't believe it. Wouldn't believe it. The idea of Carter out there, waiting to destroy him again, terrified him.
When he returned to the bedroom, Robert had remade the bed and set a glass of water on the bedside table. He was standing by the window, holding the drape open, looking out at who knew what.
"Are you going to be okay," he asked quietly when Damien sat down on his bed.
"I think so. I doubt I'll sleep much the rest of the night, but don't let me stop you," Damien stated. "You shouldn't lose sleep over me."
Robert didn't say anything, just let the drape fall closed. He crossed to Damien's bed and sat down on the opposite side.
"Sleep is overrated," he offered with a smile. "Most folks don't need as much as they think they do. How about we find a movie, a comedy maybe, and relax?" He stretched out on the bed with the pillows stuffed behind his head and flipped the television on with the remote he had in his hand.
Damien didn't understand this man at all. But just this once, he was going to go with it. He stretched out and pulled the covers up around his waist.
Saying nothing while Robert flipped through the channels, Damien waited until he stopped on a ridiculous black and white 1950s film. It was some sort of slap stick, prate fall flick that had them both chuckling in no time. They watched it till it ended and was replaced by a murder mystery that was so obvious Damien had it figured out in the first fifteen minutes. He fell asleep thinking how nice this was: watching stupid old movies and feeling a warm body next to his. He drifted off to sleep fairly sure he would have no more nightmares tonight.
Chapter Eight
Robert woke with a long leg draped over his thigh, sliding up and down his crotch. His cock stirred as he realized it was Damien. He had wrapped himself around Robert's torso, his hand splayed across Robert's chest, rubbing gently at the skin. Damien mumbled in his sleep. Robert wasn't sure what to do, but being wrapped up with Damien this way couldn't go on for long. He looked at Damien's closed eyes and the relaxed state of his face.
Damien was so good looking with his hair a mess and a slight grin curling one side of his lips. Robert reached out slowly and brushed the stray hairs away from Damien's eyes.
"There is nothing ugly about you," he whispered.
Damien gripped his shoulder and held onto him, but he didn't waken.
The more Robert looked at Damien, the more he wanted to kiss him. His prick liked the idea too. Hardening a little more every time the thought crossed Robert's mind. Damien shifted and turned his face toward Robert.
The one-sided grin turned into a smile and Damien breathed softly through his lips. That was all Robert could stand.
He carefully lowered his mouth over Damien's. Just a sample. That's all he wanted. A taste to see if those lips were as soft as they appeared. The last thing he wanted to do was startle Damien, or to have him assume he was being assaulted. For a moment, Robert held back, wondering about what Damien had suffered at the hands of a man who had claimed to love and care for him. He withdrew slightly, changing his mind, when Damien spoke.
"Don't. Don't go. Please."
Damien's words were soft and pleading. He didn't seem frightened, but he still wasn't completely awake either. Robert warred with himself. Finally, giving in and praying he wasn't making a mistake.
The first touch was as soft as silk against his skin. The faintest brush of his lips to the ones at which he’d been staring. Damien didn't pull away. He didn't even wake. So, Robert pressed a tiny bit harder. He felt the texture of Damien's lips. A lingering flavor of the wine he had drunk when they had shared dinner. Robert ran his tongue across Damien's bottom lip and savored the emotion that was growing in the pit of his stomach. He really wanted to kiss this man. Kiss him until he made Damien's toes curl. These were lips that were made to be kissed and—Damien stiffened under him.
For an achingly long moment, Robert stayed completely still. He didn't take a breath. He just waited. If he had frightened Damien, he'd never forgive himself. But Damien didn't move. He didn't push Robert away or scream at him to move. They were so close together, Robert could tell Damien wasn't breathing either. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime but was only a few seconds, Damien relaxed and, amazingly, kissed Robert back.
With both of them awake and responding, the kiss took on a new and passionate life of its own. Damien had not moved his leg away from where it had been lying. Robert knew Damien could feel his hard on; there was no mistaking it. As the kiss continued along its sweet slow path, Robert felt Damien's growing erection press into his thigh.
Damien pushed himself hard against Robert's thigh and moaned into Robert's lips. Robert opened up and allowed Damien to explore his mouth.
His tongue moved languidly, touching nerve endings long dormant, now bursting to life. With each swipe of his tongue, Damien sent little jolts of pleasure up and down Robert's spine. This was going to go someplace Robert hadn't planned if they didn't stop soon. He didn't want to let go, but he was dangerously close to coming, so he pulled back from Damien's lips.
"We need to stop." Robert looked earnestly at Damien.
Damien's face fell and a look of pain filled his eyes. He tried to untangle himself from Robert's bod
y. "I understand," he choked out. Damien misunderstood Robert's hesitation.
"No, wait." Robert didn't physically keep Damien from moving, but he prayed his words would stop him.
Damien lay still staring at Robert. His eyes filled with pain. "Why?"
Robert rose on his elbow, and said, "I wanted... no... needed to kiss you. I didn't want to scare you or bring on another nightmare, but I couldn't help myself. It doesn't have to go anywhere. That's what I meant. Sometimes, I have a hard time explaining my thoughts." Then Robert admitted, "It's easier to be silent, or be cynical when I do speak."
Damien's eyes softened and that lopsided grin returned to his lips. "I enjoyed the kiss," he said, then patted Robert's chest with his hand. "Maybe next time...." He left the sentence hanging as he untwisted himself from Robert. "For now, I think I need a shower."
He stood from the bed and Robert saw the tent in Damien's sleeping pants.
He licked his lips and watched Damien cross the room to the bathroom door.
Damien stopped and turned back to Robert.
"Definitely, next time." The grin he gave Robert was wicked and full of promises. The door closed softly, and Robert was alone.
Alone with a boner that wasn't going to go away all that easily unless Robert did something about it. The shower came on, and Robert threw his head back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. He imagined what Damien would look like standing in the shower naked, water raining over his body, stroking his own shaft. It had been way too long since Robert had been with anyone and it only took a few strokes of his hand, along with his imagination. Then, Robert was holding back his own screams so as not to make Damien aware of what he was doing. His body rocked with the aftershocks of his orgasm as he listened to the water still flowing on the
other side of the door. Robert laughed at himself. He wondered if Damien had come as hard as he had. Damn, he wished he'd seen that.
Two hours later, showered, dressed and waiting for a seat in the hotel's restaurant, Robert's phone rang with a familiar jingle. Marcus. The host came to seat them and Robert told Damien to go ahead, he'd be right there.
He found a quiet corner in the lobby where he spoke with Marcus.