by Misha Horne
He took a shaky breath, easing his hips forward, begging for a rougher touch than the slow teasing of sensitive skin. “No.”
“Yeah. I like to hear you say it. Tell me what happens when you’re naughty, Kyle.”
He exhaled slowly, a sigh and a hum and a moan, a sound that meant all his resistance was gone— what little there was to begin with.
“I get spanked.” His voice still got hung up on the word every time. His face still flushed, and he still felt the hot, sharp surge of embarrassment start in his balls and his chest and meet in his stomach where it fluttered and burned, and he felt like he might die. Every. Single. Time.
Juno grabbed his ass hard and pulled his hips forward, so close he could his feel his hard cock press back against his own. “That’s right.”
He whimpered. This was definitely something else. Something he liked. “Can we just go home right now?”
“Nope. Gotta go get breakfast. And pretty soon if we don’t want questions. Five laps don’t take you very long.”
“Four take you longer.”
“Keep talking, rookie.”
He groaned and Juno rocked against him, breathing heavy in his ear.
“So… since I didn’t technically do anything… and your hands are down my pants… are we talking about real punishment, or pretend?”
“Somewhere in between.”
He took a ragged breath and growled, pushing his ass back into Juno’s palms. “That one’s my favorite.”
“I know.”
* * *
The library didn’t open until nine, but the diner next to it opened at five, according to the sign on the door. It wasn’t the only place on the street that was lit up, but it was close. By the time they got there, half the tables were covered with books, and the place was filled with people who seemed to be using it mostly as a waiting room for the library, which Kyle could barely comprehend.
The girl that took their order— who he sort of recognized from the psychology class he mostly slept through— looked half asleep herself, but she smiled at him and called him by name, which he always liked. Getting recognized gave him a rush he couldn’t get any other way.
He wasn’t sure how no one noticed just how short of breath he was, how every inch of him seemed to be burning as he sat across from Juno, still feeling his touch all over his body. The pancakes were a good distraction, even if they weren’t amazing. Nothing syrup couldn’t fix, and at least the food came fast. Plus the coffee was free before noon with a student ID, even if you had to get up and pour it yourself. So, maybe he could handle breakfast.
“Saw your boyfriend last night,” Moss said suddenly, looking directly at him.
Kyle choked on an extra large bite, and Hogie smacked him on the back way harder than necessary. “Saw who?”
“Burkett.”
His whole body twitched at the name, the physical reaction drowning out the abrupt panic he felt when he thought Moss had outed him right at the fucking table. Different panic welled up, worse, as he remembered Saturday night, how he’d felt after he’d ended up on the ground, after he’d ended up in Mackey’s office the next morning. “You did? Where? What’d his hand look like?”
Moss shrugged. “Like a typical asshole’s hand.”
“Like Juno’s hand,” Hogie said, flicking a sugar packet across the table through the goalpost Juno was making with his fingers.
“You went to Okie?” Juno asked him, tossing the sugar on the table, frowning.
“Yes, mom. I went to Okie. I’m gonna continue going out, with or without you, and when things need handling, I guess I do it alone. Because you’re… what exactly? Too busy?”
Juno snorted. “More like too smart to go kicking a grenade that’s already had its pin pulled. That guy is just looking for a reason. You know that.”
“If I could interject for one second,” Hogie said, hold up a finger.
“What?”
“Just wanted to point out you just said When things need handling, I do it alone.”
Moss laughed. “Nice catch.”
“Yeah, well. It’s in the title.”
“You realize you guys are turning into the same person, right?” Juno said, rolling his eyes. “And that person’s a ten-year-old moron?”
“Rather be a ten-year-old than a fucking eighty-year-old that orders oatmeal when he goes out for breakfast,” Moss told him, banging his fork against the side of Juno’s bowl. “Is this you asking for an intervention? Because I’ve got a bunch of folding chairs. We can do it today.”
Kyle laughed, and then froze when he felt Juno’s foot inch up the inside of his calf, the toe of his shoe still damp as it rubbing against him.
“This won’t kill me,” Juno said, nodding at his breakfast, not looking Kyle’s way at all. “Going to Okie might.”
“Burkett’s too smart to start shit again.”
“Not talking about him. Talking about Mackey.”
“I’m not scared of Mackey.”
“Right.”
Moss drummed his fork on the table, annoyed. “Look, man. Somebody needed to check in. Apparently, you’re too smart, the superstar’s underage—”
“Stop calling me that,” Kyle snapped, feeling his face overheat as the whole table looked at him. He loosened the death grip on his fork and put it down, his appetite waning as he swallowed his temper. “Just quit, okay? I don’t like it.”
Juno’s foot slipped a little higher, teasing the back of his knee, and he shifted in his seat as casually as possible, without looking his way. He felt like he was on a fucking leash. Which was so messed up. And so fucking hot. He glanced up at the clock over the door and wondered how long breakfast was possibly supposed to last.
“Christ, why’s everyone so fucking sensitive today?” Moss muttered, shaking his head.
“It’s called two hours of sleep,” Hogie said, around a mouthful of biscuits and gravy.
Juno shook his head. “Did you go over there too?”
“Leave me out of this. I was sleeping.”
“More like passed out,” Moss said, grabbing the abandoned sugar packet from the center of the table and loading it into his coffee with six or seven more.
“I can’t be both?”
“Did he say anything about me?” Kyle asked, steering the conversation back in the obvious direction.
“Oh, he’s got plenty to say about you, and he’s making sure everyone hears it. You ever make it back in the box, you’re gonna have a big fat target on your back. And your front.”
Kyle’s hand curled into a fist automatically, and he forced his fingers straight, flattening his hand on the table. “What’d he say?”
“That you fight dirty. And play dirty. That you catch breaks and you shouldn’t be here.” Moss shrugged. “But who gives a fuck. He’s a loser.”
“What do you mean I shouldn’t be here? What breaks?”
Moss paused. “Your dad really coach at your high school?”
His stomach dropped. He knew exactly where this was going. He might have dealt with it in high school, but he shouldn’t have to now, and he didn’t know how the hell it was common knowledge even Burkett could pick up. “Yeah. He’s the AD. So?”
Moss tilted his head, gesturing randomly in the air. “So…”
“So what? If you’re gonna say it, say it.”
He shrugged. “So, maybe some strings got pulled, I don’t know.”
“Hey!” He was surprised to hear Hogie chime in with Juno on his behalf, both of them loud enough to make people turn their heads toward their table.
“That’s fucking raw,” Hogie muttered, choking down his food. “You say I’m an asshole.”
“You are an asshole,” Moss assured him.
“Whose strings do you think needed pulled?” Kyle asked him, getting dizzy from too many emotions to count. “Like I can’t get myself in here? Like I can’t—”
“Jesus Christ, calm down,” Moss said, holding up his hands and leaning back. �
�I’m not the one saying it. I’m just asking. It’s not like it doesn’t happen. Doors get opened sometimes, guys walk through. Doesn’t mean you suck. Just means—”
“It doesn’t mean anything. I got myself here. They’re my stats, not my dad’s.”
“I get it. Don’t go foaming at the fucking mouth. You gotta learn to pull back. Let shit go.”
“I’m not the one going out looking for trouble.”
Moss rolled his eyes. “No, you find it in your own goddamn dugout.”
“Whatever.”
“Hey.” Moss leaned across the table, pointing his fork at him. “This is serious. You can’t take a couple dumb questions from me, you’re never gonna handle Mackey. You need a goddamn Xanax, take it. But, figure out how to keep your mouth shut and quit screwing up. Okie’s back in our house Friday, and it’d be nice if there was one guy in the lineup who could hit a fucking slider.”
He blinked, trying to process what Moss was saying. “Me?”
“Yeah, that’d be you, genius.”
He laughed. “He’s not gonna let me play Friday. He already told me next week. Maybe.”
“Yeah, he’s lying,” Hogie cut in, stuffing another biscuit in his mouth. “He’ll gonna put you in just to see if you fuck up. So, you’d better not fuck up.”
Kyle chanced a look up at Juno, who hesitated a minute, and then nodded. “Maybe. He wants to see you get stirred up. To see if you do something stupid. He’s gonna be watching how you sit tomorrow too, so you’d better sit quietly. Don’t ask him to put you in. Don’t call him a fucking pussy. Don’t do anything.”
Hogie laughed, spitting crumbs across the table. “I forgot about that. That was great.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Juno said, never taking his eyes away from Kyle, seeming to be able to pull some of the anger out of him just with a quiet look. “Don’t do that.”
“I won’t.”
“You better not.”
Under the table, Juno’s foot found his again, and stroked up the side of his leg, higher than before, the tip of his sneaker nudging under the edge of his shorts, rubbing against his thigh, making him hard as a rock in about two seconds as he sat frozen and waited for someone to notice.
No one did.
* * *
Juno’s mouth was rough on his as he shoved the door closed behind him, pinning Kyle back against it while was still rattling in the frame. His usual gentle touch was greedy and hungry, the hour they’d spent at the diner obviously wearing on his patience more than he’d let on.
He loved it this way, when Juno kissed him so hard he could barely breathe. Slid his hands up his shirt, and drew his nails down his back, and grabbed his hips so tight it felt like he was crushing his bones to dust. He wanted to be wanted, needed to be needed, and when Juno slipped a little bit from the quiet control he clearly lived in, Kyle felt like he’d made something impossible happen. Bent a spoon with his mind or thrown the earth off its axis or something.
It came in quick flashes, like a power surge, making his heart pound and his pulse skip and his brain ache as he wondered how long it would take Juno’s mind to catch up to his body and slow things down again. It was never very long. But for those few minutes, or few seconds, the control flipped over, and Juno belonged to him.
“God you drive me fucking crazy,” Juno said hoarsely as he pulled away from his lips, started to lick and suck at the underside of his jaw. His fingers wrapped around the sides of his neck, tilting his head back, and Kyle could feel the tension pulsing in his hands, like Juno was trying so hard to be gentle and soft, treating him like he was some breakable thing. He hated that. And loved it.
“I drive you crazy? What the fuck were you doing during breakfast?”
“Just making sure you remembered I was there.” His stomach went crazy, practically purring, when Juno’s eyes lit up that way, got so clear and wide while he pretended to be serious, his smile hiding, but his dimples denting in just a little bit anyway, totally giving him away.
“Hard to forget with your shoe in my balls.”
“You gotta work on being subtle,” Juno teased him. “You almost looked like I had my shoe in your balls.”
“You’re a monster,” Kyle groaned as Juno swept his tongue along his throat. “You look like a nice guy, but you are such a dick.”
“Appreciate that,” Juno said, grabbing him around the back of the thighs, and lifting him easily, backing him against the door and shifting his weight around until both hands were grabbing his ass.
Kyle clutched at his shoulders and groaned again. “Fuck, really? Why do you have to do that?”
“Because you like it.”
“No, I don’t,” he lied, wrapping his legs around Juno’s waist, digging his heels into his ass, and dropping his head in delicious frustration. He did. He shouldn’t, but he did.
“Couch or bed?” Juno asked him, squeezing tighter. “Or kitchen table?”
“If this is multiple choice, I’m gonna need more details.”
“Where would you like me to bend you over and spank you until your ass glows and you scream my name?”
“Oh, that.”
“Yeah, that. Clear enough for you?”
“Bed, please.”
“Good choice.” Juno stepped back from the door and lifted him higher, tossing him over his shoulder with what seemed like no effort at all, leaving him to either deal with being carried, or squirm against him like some girl in an old movie. There was humiliation, and then there was this.
“Juno, what the fuck.”
“Settle down,” Juno told him, reaching up and landing a hard smack on his ass. “You can take it.”
This was so not cool. So not normal. But, he loved it so much anyway.
Juno carried him down the hall to the bedroom, and dumped him on the bed, then turned and closed the door. His belly warmed at the illusion of needing privacy, even if they were the only ones there. Juno watched him a minute, his laser-focused attention like foreplay all on its own.
“Take your shirt off,” Juno told him. “You’re all wet.”
“So are you.”
“Can’t you ever just do what you’re told?” Juno asked him, grinning and climbing onto the bed next to him, tugging at the hem of his shirt.
“How is that fun?”
He gasped as Juno’s cold hands moved at lightning speed, slid under his shirt and yanked it over his head before pulling off his own, baring cold, pinked up skin and hard nipples.
It was supposed to get easier, he was pretty sure. He was supposed to get jaded, or used to it, or something. But getting naked, watching Juno undress, every time, he felt like he was falling backwards, getting less mature, more inexperienced. Looking at shirtless guys, even ones who looked like Juno, wasn’t supposed to turn his dick to cement and make it hard to catch his breath. But every curve of muscle, every hard plane of his body seemed to rattle his brain, shake things up until he couldn’t even remember what it was he was doing wrong.
“Hey. My eyes are up here,” Juno teased him.
Kyle shook his head. “Your eyes are worse.”
“Worse than what?”
He shook his head again, dizzy with possibility and reality, still not sure how any of this was actually happening. “Fuck, you make me feel like such a virgin.”
“Jesus, rook, you’re gonna kill me with things like that.” Juno leaned over him, pressing him back onto the bed, kissing him softly as he ran a hand up along his side. “I have a present for you,” he whispered.
“A real present, or your dick?”
“Both.”
“What kind of present?”
“Something you’ll like. Something you’ve been just bad enough to deserve.”
He tried to laugh, but groaned instead, and then laughed anyway. “I like the sound of that.”
“We gotta talk first, though. Before you get it.”
“About what?”
“About this morning. About you losing your temper.”
“I didn’t lose it. I misplaced it. For a second.”
“A second can be too long. You understand that?”
He nodded, feeling his body relax again, the same way it had this morning. He still wasn’t sure what that was about, how being understood, agreed with, even, and then scolded anyway, led to such a physical reaction, tension unwinding in his chest, thoughts lining up orderly in his mind.
“I’m gonna ask you something. I need a real answer. Think before you talk.”
“Okay.”
“If Moss hadn’t grabbed you this morning, what were you gonna do?”
He tried to think, didn’t remember exactly, just remembered a bunch of dumb jokes about him being an asshole, and really hating that word superstar, though it hadn’t ever bothered him before. Remembered standing up before he knew he was going to, his arm throbbing when he clenched his fists. But what was going through his mind… who the hell knew?
“I don’t know. Probably nothing. Push him, maybe. But, I wouldn’t have hit him.”
“Because I was watching?”
“I forgot you were watching,” he admitted. “Just because… we’re friends. I guess. Sort of. I’d never go after a guy on my own team. That would be stupid.”
“Not even if you weren’t thinking?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Pushing’s not okay either, rook.”
He winced. That sounded way too much like the opposite of something he knew by heart. If pushing wasn’t okay— and really, what kind of grown adult idiot didn’t know that?— lots of other things probably weren’t okay either. Too many to count. Too many to even know about.
Juno rubbed a hand along his jaw, cradling his face until heat spilled across his cheeks from the attention.
“Alright. I won’t.”
“Not everybody’s always trying to hurt you. I won’t say nobody, because that’s not true. But, I think it’s hard for you to sort that out, maybe. You need to know if anybody did try, I’d have your back in a second. No matter who it was. But, you’ve got to control your temper. You have to put it away before it even comes up. I know you can do that for me.”
He nodded, not quite believing that this could be reality. That someone could take care of him this well, make him want to be so much better. “Can I ask you a question?”