Be My Boy

by Casey K. Cox

  He rinsed the vegetables for dinner and checked on the lamb. It was his first day at the apartment on his own with Mitchell at work and he’d gone all out, cooking up a storm. Mitchell had given him the passwords for online shopping so Owen could fill the cupboards with whatever food he wanted. The smell of freshly baked bread drifted around the flat and mixed with the aroma of roasting meat; a chocolate and lime cheesecake sat in the fridge.

  It was a surprise when Owen’s phone rang. Nobody used his mobile anymore. Owen didn’t even know why he kept it charged; he used it more as a clock than a phone. “Hello?”

  “Owen?”

  Fucking bitch. “Haven’t you taken enough, Tina? Do you want blood as well?”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. I’ve only taken what’s rightfully mine. I’m Cole’s only living heir. My family, my children deserve what he worked all his life to achieve.”

  “So you’ve told me a thousand times. What do you want?”

  “The house has sold. I need you to collect the last of your things and sign some paperwork.”

  “That was quick.”

  “First people to see it. Can you come to London tomorrow?”

  “That’s short notice. I don’t know.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re actually working, or have you found another poor fool to scrounge off already?”

  “I’ll call you back later.” Owen hung up. He checked on the oven, put the vegetables on simmer and curled into a ball on the floor in the corner. Would the pain ever end? What could Tina possibly gain by dragging him to London to revisit the memories that had finally started receding in Mitchell’s company?

  He was still there when Mitchell arrived home. “Fuck, Owen, what is it? Are you hurt?”

  Owen couldn’t say anything. Mitchell swept him into his arms and carried him to the seating area off the dining room. He sat with him on his lap and rocked him like a child, kissing over his head and cheek.

  “Talk to me, baby, come on.”

  “I had a call.” Owen’s breath rattled through his chest. “I have to go to London. The house has been sold. They want me to sign stuff.”

  “Who wants you to sign what?”

  Owen told him the whole story and Mitchell listened. At the end he looked puzzled. “If you don’t own the house what is there for you to sign?”

  “She didn’t say. To be fair, I didn’t ask.”

  “I’m coming with you. You don’t sign anything until I’ve read it. Do you understand?”

  “Okay. I’m not good with legal stuff.”

  “I am. Now serve dinner. It smells incredible in here and I’m fucking starving.”

  xxxx

  The only thing missing from the house in London were the fresh flowers Owen always brought in from the garden. A fine film of dust covered everything. Oh, and Cole wasn’t in his favourite chair looking out over the rockery. Owen resisted the urge to start cleaning and instead sat at the kitchen table. He tried not to look out the window. His pride and joy was overgrown and unloved: the perfect lawn he’d cultivated, the herb garden, the plum tree. Best to keep his mind indoors and as distant as possible. The house wasn’t his anymore and neither was Cole. Both gone now.

  Mitchell looked incredibly young all of a sudden. His brown hair was a little longer on top than the shorn sides, his stubble neatly trimmed, and the sweet hazel eyes sparkled with something Owen hadn’t seen before but it added an edge to him – a dangerous edge. The casual jeans and polo shirt didn’t match his attitude. One good thing had come out of the trip – Owen could see without any doubt that he was totally smitten with Mitchell. He’d follow the man to the end of the world, no question.

  Tina plopped her briefcase on the table and took out a file. She opened it and placed two sets of papers in front of Owen then handed him a pen. “Just sign and date each page and you can leave.”

  “We’ve only just walked through the door.”

  “I had your stuff packed. The boxes are in the hall. Why would you need to stay any longer?”

  Mitchell took the papers and started to read.

  “What are you doing?” Tina said, snatching them back. “Those are nothing to do with you. Who are you exactly anyway?”

  “I’m Owen’s advocate. He isn’t sure what you need him to sign so I’m here to have a look. I suggest you let me start reading or we’ll be here a while.”

  “He just needs to sign them.”

  “He’s not signing anything without reading it.”

  “Then let him read it.”

  “Look lady, you may be able to push people around on your own turf but I’m not from around here. Owen won’t sign anything until I explain exactly what it is and why it’s in his best interest to do so. Hand me the papers or we’ll leave.”

  “You didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone, Owen. I’m calling my solicitor.”

  “Off you go then, treacle,” Mitchell said, grabbing the papers back out of her hands.

  Definitely smitten. Even Cole didn’t stand up to Tina and she was ten years younger than him. Owen had always been terrified of her but Mitchell just blazed right through her armour. Brilliant. “I should have brought something to make a cup of tea,” Owen said, feeling the need to pace the room. Tina made him nervous. She shouted a lot and didn’t like him hanging around.

  “Well, fucking hell. No wonder she didn’t want you to read them. Owen, baby, what exactly did she tell you last year when she kicked you out?”

  “She said she’d taken the will to a solicitor and he’d advised her to contest it. Said I had no legal rights to anything, I was just a lodger.”

  “And you believed her?”

  “I was in shock. It was the day after the funeral. She gave me some money to start over and a month’s notice to move out.”

  “And you didn’t go and see anyone?”

  “What’s the point? She always gets what she wants. I wouldn’t stand a chance. What does it say?”

  “The first document transfers the title deed of the house to her name and confirms you give up all rights to any monies from the sale of the property. This second one agrees to transfer the remainder of the estate, currently in probate, to her children.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s all yours, Owen. Everything.”

  “But she said the will was invalid.”

  “The will was invalid by the looks of it, some technicality. What she didn’t realize is that you and Cole were married. That makes you the rightful heir. A civil partnership gives you the same rights as a spouse. She can’t touch a penny unless you sign it over to her.”

  “Cole didn’t want to tell her. He said she wouldn’t understand.”

  “He was protecting you against exactly what’s happened. He must have known she’d go for his money.”

  “It’s my money,” she snapped, walking back into the kitchen. “And my house. Owen, sign the papers.”

  “No. It isn’t what Cole wanted. He always did say you were a conniving bitch. You never gave him the money he was left by your parents either.”

  “You took a lump sum from me last year as full and final settlement for your rights to this house.”

  “How much?”

  She looked at Mitchell.

  “How much did you give him?”

  “Twenty thousand pounds.”

  Mitchell took out his chequebook and started writing. He tore out the cheque and slapped it on the table in front of her. “Here’s your money, plus a little extra. Now get out of this house and never contact Owen again. His solicitor will be in touch to arrange for the transfer of the remaining funds from the estate.” He shook one of the contracts at her. “It says here it amounts to four hundred and fifty thousand pounds. He’ll be expecting every single penny.”

  “The sale of this house is already agreed.”

  “You can’t sell what doesn’t belong to you, sunshine. You’d better hope nobody tries to sue you for trying. Now take your money and get out before I th
row you out.”

  “Owen? Are you going to sit there and let him speak to me like that?”

  “I think he’s being too polite, actually. I’ve been through hell and back this last year because of you. You need to leave for your own safety.”

  “You haven’t heard the last of this.” She grabbed her bag and stormed out of the door.

  Owen jumped as the front door slammed. He sat for a moment trying to gather his thoughts. Mitchell sat heavily in the chair opposite. Something about the way he ran his fingers through his hair made Owen think he wasn’t very happy.

  “Mitchell, what just happened? I still don’t understand.”

  “You were about to sign away everything Cole had set up to look after you when he was gone. He was older, wasn’t he?”

  “Twenty years older than me. I feel so stupid. I should have known he’d have everything covered. When we went for the civil partnership, he said it was because he wanted to prove he loved me. He didn’t explain what it meant.”

  Owen couldn’t stop shaking. Did he live here again now? But he didn’t want to. He wanted to go home with Mitchell. Mitchell was his life now.

  Mitchell patted him on the shoulder. “I guess I’ll leave you to it then. Do you want me to ship your stuff?”

  “What? Where are you going?”

  “You don’t need me now, Owen. You’ve got your house back, and enough money to live the high life. You can get your own boy.”

  Owen grabbed Mitchell’s sleeve as he went to walk away. “I don’t want my own boy. Don’t you want me anymore, because I’ve got money? If that’s the case, I’ll give it away. I don’t want it; don’t want any of it, Mitchell. I just want you – to be your boy. I’m your boy.”

  “You can build a life for yourself. Live wherever you want.”

  “I want to live with you. Please…don’t send me away. I’ve been so happy the last few weeks. I…” But Owen couldn’t say it. It was stupid. You couldn’t say it after a month.

  “What, Owen? Tell me.”

  “You’re my Master. I’m nothing if I’m not with you. I…love you. The stupid kid kind of love, where you can’t think of anything or anyone else. Look at me. I’m here, in Cole’s house and yet all I can think about is you taking me home. Take me home, Master, please.”

  “With all this, you still want to be my boy?”

  “It’s not a case of wanting. I am your boy. Don’t leave me behind, Master. We’re only just getting started.”

  Mitchell wiped a tear from Owen’s cheek and pulled him into a hug. “I didn’t think you’d want me now you have money.”

  “You can’t buy what we have, Master. Trust and loyalty you said you wanted from me and you have it.”

  “But what do I have to give you? I’m just a stupid kid that wanted somebody of his own to take care of.”

  Owen held Mitchell close. He wouldn’t let go, not now, he couldn’t. “I promise, you’re all I’ll ever need,” he whispered, and sealed it with a kiss.

  xxxx

  Owen waited for Mitchell at his usual place in the club. He didn’t know the guys Mitchell was chatting to, but they looked scary.

  “You working, Owen?”

  He looked up to see Jimmy’s cruel sneer. “No, sorry. I’m not tricking anymore.”

  Jimmy slammed Owen against the wall, holding a hand around his throat. “I say you are. But as it isn’t a job, I guess I get to fuck you for free.”

  Owen looked across to Mitchell but he’d gone. In a sudden blur of movement, Jimmy’s head smashed into the wall. “He said no.”

  Jimmy’s face contorted in pain. His fingers scrabbled at Mitchell’s hand where he pinned him. “Get the fuck off me! What do you care? He’s just an old whore.”

  Mitchell smacked his head against the wall again. “See that chain around his neck? It’s new. What does it have hanging from it?”

  “A letter M,” Jimmy sputtered, struggling for breath.

  “Very good. M is for Mitchell.” Slam. Jimmy mewled. “That’s me. M is for Master.” Slam. Jimmy’s knees gave out and he slipped down the wall. Mitchell’s fist remained clenched in his hair. “That’s me too, and M is for mine.” Slam. “So you’ll keep your fucking filthy hands off from now on. Do you understand?”

  “Y-yeh. I got it. Please.”

  “Right. Now you’ll apologize to Owen.”

  Jimmy went to stand, but Mitchell kept him on his knees with a firm hand on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, Owen, for the misunderstanding.”

  “Now fuck off and don’t even look at him again.” Jimmy stumbled away without another word. “Are you okay, baby?”

  “I am now, Master.” Owen sighed, just a little sigh of contentment, as Mitchell wrapped his arms around him. “You don’t mind that so many of the guys here have fucked me?”

  “Nope. I know they’ll never have you again and that’s what matters.”

  “I like that.” Owen caught sight of Jimmy receiving another stern talking to from the men Mitchell had just left and the penny dropped. The thing that had been niggling at the back of his mind since that very first morning. “You’re one of the Morgan brothers aren’t you? It’s why you never let me get the post.”

  Mitchell pressed his forehead to Owen’s. His fingers played over the M at Owen’s throat. “Does it bother you?”

  “A couple of punters warned me, tricking on your turf. Said I’d be in for a beating if you caught me working for myself.”

  “Those guys that beat you were nothing to do with me, but they paid heavily for it.”

  “Is that why you were watching me?”

  “No, baby. I was watching you because from the very first time I saw you, I wanted you to be my boy.” Owen opened his lips to receive the kiss of his Master. The feel of Mitchell’s tongue sent shivers over his body and his cock perked up. He felt Mitchell smile against his lips. “You like that,” he said, grinding his hips against Owen’s. “I think I ought to take you home and show you just how badly I want you.”

  Owen could barely breathe; all sense and reason fell away as the blood rushed south and he melted into Mitchell’s arms. Whatever it looked like from the outside, Owen didn’t care. He may be older; Mitchell may be the boy in literal terms in their relationship but there was no doubt in either of their minds which way the power flowed. Owen had every intention of allowing Mitchell to flex his Master muscles and find out exactly how much of a boy Owen was willing to be.

  The End

  About Casey K. Cox

  Casey K. Cox is an avid reader and author of m/m erotic fiction. Hailing from the West of England she tends to set her stories in the UK. Casey has written fanfic (Special Forces and The Administration) and has a free serial read –The Rise of Alec Caldwell – available online. You can follow her work at http://caseykcox.blogspot.com.