by Xenia Melzer
Leeland was apparently done mixing the noodles and the sauce, brought the pot over to the table, and served first Jonathan, then himself.
“Smells amazing, honey.”
Leeland smiled weakly. “Tagliatelle al salmone. I know you like fish.”
Jonathan reached out to stroke Leeland’s cheek, full of love.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. Now, are you going to tell me what has you so upset, or should we eat first?”
Leeland glanced at his plate, then back to Jonathan.
“We eat first.”
Jonathan nodded in agreement. He had a suspicion they wouldn’t have much of an appetite once Leeland spilled the beans about what had him so stressed. They ate in peaceful silence, neither of them wanting to make small talk while there was clearly such an elephant lurking in the room, even though Jonathan was itching to find out the shape and size of said elephant. Once they were finished with their meal, Jonathan cleared the table, putting the plates in the dishwasher before he took Leeland’s hand and led him to the living room, where they settled on the dark green leather couch. Leeland snuggled in Jonathan’s lap. Jonathan pressed a kiss to Leeland’s forehead.
“Time to talk, boy.”
Leeland sat up a bit straighter so he could look Jonathan in the eyes.
“Uncle Misaki called today.”
Jonathan furrowed his brows. He had met Leeland’s family only a handful of times in the almost twelve months since they’d started dating. Misaki was an important part of Leeland’s life, even though they didn’t talk that regularly. From what Jonathan understood, the man had taught Leeland martial arts and had been—and still was—a great influence on his life.
“Is he okay?”
“Yes and no. He’s having some trouble and wants me to go pro in the UFC for a year.”
Jonathan hadn’t seen that one coming.
“Why would he want you to do that?”
Leeland sighed. “You know my uncle’s charity, Hinode, where he helps troubled kids. He has found a European sponsor for it who is willing to donate quite a lot of money. In exchange, they wanted Ojisan to train an athlete for the UFC through whom they could promote their energy drink. Said athlete was in a car accident some days ago, and now my ojisan needs a replacement. Apparently the UFC is willing to change the contract so somebody else can fight for my ojisan’s gym.”
“And you’re his first choice?” Jonathan didn’t mean to be derogatory, and Leeland didn’t seem to take his words the wrong way.
“Nobody was more surprised than me. It’s been almost two years since I last competed, and that was not in MMA, but in jiu-jitsu, karate, and judo. I wanted to concentrate on my studies once I had finally found the perfect major.”
Jonathan knew this was a bit of a sore subject for Leeland. He had started out with a different major, history of art, only to realize that he felt more comfortable with graphic design. If they had already dated back when Leeland made the switch, Jonathan would have reassured his boy that it was absolutely fine to change one’s mind about something, but as it was, Leeland had gone through the strain of deciding to change his major and then actually doing it, alone. In an effort to take Leeland’s mind off that time in his life, Jonathan focused on the first part of his explanation.
“How successful were you?” Jonathan was curious. He liked that Leeland could take care of himself and was fascinated by all the different martial arts his boy had mastered, but Leeland never talked about tournaments or championships. Jonathan knew it had more to do with Leeland’s modesty and nothing with shutting Jonathan out, so he wasn’t angry. As if to confirm his assumptions, Leeland squirmed uncomfortably in Jonathan’s lap.
“Three times national champion in both judo and jiu-jitsu. One time national champion in karate, junior league, and second in the young adult category.”
“Wow.” Jonathan was surprised. That was even more impressive than he had assumed. He briefly wondered where Leeland kept all the trophies. Probably stashed away in his parents’ attic. The whole family wasn’t one for bragging. “I can see why he would want you.”
Leeland shook his head. “As I said, it’s almost two years since I last competed. I stay in shape, and I know my moves, but I guess the main reason is because he wants somebody he knows. Starting all over with a new athlete he hasn’t formed himself would be stressful, especially on such short notice. If he had a suitable candidate in his gym, he wouldn’t have contacted me.”
Sensing his boy’s distress, Jonathan started drawing soothing circles on Leeland’s rigid back. “So what’s the issue? I know you want to help your uncle, but you also seem reluctant at the same time. Do you want to explain your dilemma to me?”
For a moment Leeland didn’t say anything. If he hadn’t known his lover so well, Jonathan might have started to worry, but he knew Leeland was merely trying to get his thoughts in order. Given the enormity of Misaki’s proposal, Jonathan could see how that might be difficult for Leeland.
“You’re right. I do want to help my ojisan. He’s family, after all. But so are you and agreeing to Ojisan’s proposal is going to affect you a lot. Our life.” Leeland drew a deep breath. “And I’m not sure if I want that.”
“Explain.” Against his will, Jonathan felt a little tense. If he was honest, he hadn’t thought about the impact such a decision would have on him or their relationship. He had thought of it as Leeland’s problem, with which he would help him deal. Since Leeland was that worried, it had to be bigger than he initially imagined.
“First of all, I’d have to take a leave of absence from college. Apparently that won’t be a problem. Ojisan has already talked to them, and they’re delighted to grant me a leave as long as they can add my name to the list of the college’s active athletes.”
“Wasn’t that a bit presumptuous?”
Leeland shrugged. “Ojisan knows me. He wanted to eliminate as many objections I might have as possible. Anyway, I’d lose a year. The sponsor is going to pay me, though, so it wouldn’t be a financial loss. Then there’s the gay angle. There’s no openly out male fighter in the UFC, and MMA in general is not exactly a stronghold of gay rights and open-mindedness, even though they are better than the NFL, and that’s not a compliment for the UFC, as you well know.”
Jonathan snorted. Which sport, aside from dressage and maybe figure skating, was truly open to the concept of gay athletes? Though he had to admit the NHL was making quite an effort to encourage people from the LGBTQ spectrum.
“I told Ojisan I wouldn’t hide who I am, and he and the sponsor both are fine with that. As long as we don’t advertise it—which I don’t plan on doing—there shouldn’t be any problems, though that depends on how well I do. The more matches I win, the more attention I will get from the media. Another thing I don’t fancy, and not just because of the gay issue.”
“Okay. So college seems to be cleared. The media exposure is tied to a lot of what-ifs, which leads me to believe there’s more.” Jonathan was proud of his sober analysis.
Leeland took Jonathan’s fingers and started playing with them. “You’re right. Those are only the small problems.” He took a deep breath. “If I agree, I won’t just show up for the fights and hope for the best, even though the sponsor would be fine with it, but that’s not who I am. If I compete, I compete to win. I’d have to train, and since there’s not much time, I’d have to train hard. We’re talking a minimum of six hours a day, accompanied by a strict diet to get into perfect shape. Ojisan hasn’t told me in which weight class he wants to nominate me, but depending on that, I have to either gain muscle mass or lose weight. Tagliatelle al salmone will become a distant wet dream for me.”
Leeland leaned back a bit, and Jonathan could see a hint of sadness in his eyes.
“I will be sore and covered in bruises all the time, and not from doing a scene. Most days I’ll be too tired to do more than fall headfirst into bed. The BDSM part of our relationship would be on hold, with only a few small scenes when
I’m not completely exhausted. And that is definitely a part of our life that we would have to keep hidden. It’s one thing to be an out athlete, but being an out athlete with a kink—that’s just not worth the hate we’re going to get.”
A single tear slipped down Leeland’s left cheek, telling louder than his agitated speech how much this upset him. Jonathan caught the tear, trying to understand his own feelings. He could see where this was going and why Leeland was so unhappy.
“You’re afraid this will impact our relationship negatively.”
Leeland nodded. Jonathan leaned back on the couch, dragging Leeland with him until their upper bodies were snuggled closely together. It was a legitimate fear. The core of their relationship was BDSM. They both needed the kink in their lives to feel complete. When he was a young man, admitting his cravings to himself had been hard enough for Jonathan. Suppressing them now, even if it was only for a short time and for the man he loved, wasn’t a happy thought. Judging from the slight trembling in Leeland’s body, his boy’s mind went along the same lines. This was not a decision that could be rushed.
“Are there any other catches?”
Leeland shook his head. His voice sounded a bit muffled when he tried to speak into Jonathan’s pecs.
“No. I don’t think we need more of them.”
“You’re right about that, boy.” Jonathan started stroking Leeland’s back. “Here is what we do, honey. We think about this thoroughly and discuss it tomorrow, when we’ve had time to digest it. And because we both can do with a bit of a distraction, we’re going to do a little scene now. Okay?”
Leeland’s answer was a heartfelt “Yes.”
Jonathan helped his boy to sit up on his lap. He scrutinized Leeland for a moment, slipping into his Dom mindset. Judging from the way Leeland’s entire body relaxed, he was doing the same, embracing his submission, putting his trust in his Dom. Once both their breathing had evened out and synchronized, Jonathan put Leeland on his feet.
“Go to the bedroom. Strip and assume the presentation position. We’re on high protocol.”
“Yes, Master.” Leeland turned and went to their bedroom.
Jonathan exhaled, glad they were able to fall into their established routine so quickly. It was the strong foundation on which their relationship was built. What would happen if they lost that foundation, no matter how temporarily, he didn’t want to imagine.
Chapter 7
LEELAND HURRIED to the bedroom and stripped quickly. Explaining the consequences of going along with Misaki’s proposal had intensified his doubts and heightened his fear of losing Jonathan. It had taken Leeland too long to find the perfect man to risk scaring him off now. He didn’t want to disappoint his ojisan either. The dilemma had his thoughts tumbling like marbles falling from a bag to the floor.
Inhaling deeply, Leeland knelt on the small carpet in bright orange and yellow, a gift from Collin that made Peyton roll his eyes every time he saw it. Since he was doing the redecorating, that happened regularly. Leeland suspected that deep down, Peyton was a masochist who wanted to torture himself with the sight of the monstrosity, as he called it. It certainly lit up the man cave Jonathan called his bedroom, with its imposing four-poster king-size bed in a polished dark wood Leeland couldn’t recall the name of. The walls were painted white, which only served to accentuate the black wooden ceiling and the heavy antique vanity dresser that had given Peyton a migraine on his first inspection. The small carpet was one of Collin’s first attempts at weaving, and even though it certainly didn’t fit in the bedroom—or any other room in Jonathan’s apartment, come to think of it—it was definitely interesting, and not in a bad way. Leeland was almost sure Jonathan kept the carpet simply to annoy Peyton. And because he couldn’t deal with Collin’s kicked-puppy look should he get rid of it.
The act of kneeling down and getting into position helped Leeland focus. He could feel his stumbling thoughts calming as he sank deeper into his subspace. Hearing the command from Jonathan in the living room had started this process, and Leeland knew at the end of tonight’s scene he would find serenity. Jonathan was good like that.
A soft rustling at the door alerted Leeland to the presence of his master. He forced his body to be completely still, to just be there for the man he loved. Jonathan entered the room and halted right behind Leeland. Because Leeland was facing the bed, away from the door, he had to rely on his hearing to place Jonathan. His heart hammered away in his chest as he sensed Jonathan’s considerable bulk behind him. All his instincts screamed at him to turn around, to kick out to bring Jonathan down and then neutralize him, just like his parents and Uncle Misaki had taught him to do. The only reason he didn’t follow this urge was the absolute trust he had in Jonathan. He was the first Dom Leeland allowed behind his back without a mirror to control what was happening.
“Nice position, boy. I love your posture.”
The warm voice washed over Leeland, lulled his survival instincts to sleep, assured the beast inside him that this, this was the man they trusted. The man who made them feel loved and pampered and sheltered, even when he hurt them.
“Thank you, Master.”
Unlike many Doms, Jonathan rarely forbade Leeland to speak. They both relied heavily on verbal communication to get their needs and wishes across. For them it was an additional way of forming a connection during the scene, and Leeland loved it.
Jonathan circled him once before he stopped between Leeland and the bed. His voice was already rugged, barely more than a harsh whisper, tinted with arousal.
“Tonight I’m not going to hurt you, boy. Tonight I’m going to make you lose your fucking mind. I will drive you to the point where you only need me, where all you can think about is how to get my cock in your ass so you can finally find release. I’ll have you begging and whimpering and groaning my name, and when you think you can’t take it anymore, I’ll let you come.”
Leeland didn’t even try to suppress his needy whimper. He loved it when Jonathan talked dirty to him, when he described what he was going to do to Leeland. The words had his cock twitching, leaking precum in a steady stream.
Seemingly satisfied with this response, Jonathan stepped aside.
“Get up and lie down on the bed, on your back. Grab the headboard and don’t let go, no matter what happens. Spread your legs.”
Gracefully, Leeland rose from the floor to do as he was told. Once he was in position, Jonathan took what seemed an eternity to scrutinize him. Under the hot stare, Leeland felt his cock hardening until it was close to being painful. Small droplets of sweat started forming on his forehead, in the valley of his breastbone, and in the juncture where his thighs met his groin. Since Jonathan hadn’t told him otherwise, Leeland looked directly at his handsome Dom, the sight of all those muscles beneath the clothes giving him a feeling of security.
Jonathan met his heated gaze, and for a moment they simply held eye contact. Then, with a lazy, seductive smile, Jonathan grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and took it off. Leeland felt drool forming in his mouth. With a knowing smirk, Jonathan started unbuttoning his trousers, directly in Leeland’s line of sight. As always, Jonathan had gone commando, and the sight of that beautiful, large cock slowly rising from between the gaping fly had Leeland squirming.
It was almost ridiculous how turned on he was after a bit of dirty talk and a flash of cock. But Jonathan did that to him. Only Jonathan.
His master’s hard shaft sprang free, pointing hungrily at Leeland as if seeking its target. With surprising grace for a man of his height and muscle mass, Jonathan turned around. Leeland’s cock was slapping against his stomach with every labored breath he took while his Dom slowly exposed his fine, hard ass.
“Master, please!”
A low chuckle came from where Jonathan was now stepping out of his trousers.
“I haven’t even started taking care of you, and you’re already begging? Where’s your endurance, boy?”
“Evaporated in the hotness of your ass.”
Jonathan was now completely naked. He positioned himself between Leeland’s stretched legs, stroking his own shaft lazily while he looked at Leeland with a predatory gleam in his eyes.
“This is going to be so good, boy. So good.”
Leeland nodded, too distracted by the sight of Jonathan’s hand pumping his shaft to form syllables, let alone coherent sentences. Jonathan stopped the stroking. His fingertips grazed over Leeland’s toes, along the ridges of his feet and up to his knees. Then Jonathan bent to the right, lifted Leeland’s left leg straight in the air, and started licking the crease in the back of his knee.
Leeland almost came on the spot. His fingers tightened on the headboard while Jonathan kept on teasing one of his most erogenous zones. When Leeland thought he couldn’t take it anymore, his master turned left to give his other knee the same attention. By the time Jonathan put Leeland’s right leg down and his hands resumed their journey upward, Leeland was a panting, moaning mess of oversensitized nerve endings and pure need.
Jonathan proved just how cruel he could be by not touching Leeland’s cock and balls at all. Instead he let his palms run over the smooth skin on Leeland’s stomach, which caused Leeland to arch his spine.
Jonathan chuckled. “So hot for me, boy. You’re good.”
“Then let me come?”