What He Needs

by E. M. Denning

  Craig rested his forehead against Alan’s chest and he felt him nod. “Okay. Sounds good. Tell me how it goes with the lawyers, okay?”

  “Promise. Do you want a lift home? I have time to take you before I meet the lawyer.”

  Craig pulled away and kissed him quickly. “It’s okay. I have to run a couple of errands.”

  Alan reluctantly let Craig go. Parting with the words I love you, see you later, would’ve been nice, but he had to bite them back. They weren’t at that point in their relationship yet. As Alan turned and walked away from Craig he couldn’t fight the ball of regret that built in the pit of his stomach. He should’ve told him. He shouldn’t care so much that he fell so fast, but if he was honest with himself he would be able to admit the truth. He didn’t say the words because he was afraid that Craig wouldn’t say them back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Craig

  Craig’s errand was a trip to the liquor store for a bottle of wine for him and Everett to share. Craig couldn’t get the image of Alan walking away out of his head. It was stupid. He knew it was. He recognized how irrational he was being. Alan wasn’t Tim. Alan wasn’t about to drop him like a hot potato and jet off to do the job his uncle offered him.

  Craig gripped the bottle tighter as he thumped up the stairs to his apartment. What was his uncle doing anyway, offering Alan a job as he did? The job would take Alan away from Craig. Was that his uncle’s plan? Did he not approve of Alan? Was the job a way to get rid of him? Craig shook his head. Nothing made sense anymore, which was why he needed to see Everett. In the months that they’d known each other, Everett had frequently been the shoulder that Craig cried on.

  He knocked on Everett’s door and waited. His friend answered a minute later wearing only an apron. The sight might have been unusual to anyone else, but Craig was used to Everett answering the door like this. He was The Crock Cock, the internet’s hottest, gayest, and most naked chef. His vlog had a hundred thousand subscribers and Everett was able to live solely off the income it brought in. There was even a whisper lately of sponsorships and television deals, but Everett wasn’t counting his chickens before they hatched.

  Everett cocked an eyebrow when he noticed the wine. He stepped aside and motioned for Craig to come in. “Good timing. I’m wrapping up my shoot. Make yourself comfy, uncork that bad boy, and I’ll be with you in three minutes.”

  Craig toed his shoes off and pushed them off to the side. Everett placed a couple of wine glasses and a corkscrew on the coffee table then hurried back to the kitchen. Craig worked on uncorking the wine while his friend filmed the out-tro of his video.

  It was no wonder why Everett had a huge following. He had a clean cut, charming, boy next door sort of vibe going on, but his smile was always wolfish and paired well with his innuendo laden cooking vlogs.

  By the time Craig got the wine uncorked and filled the two glasses Everett had finished filming. He slipped into his room and returned a moment later in a pair of sweats that hung low on his hips and a faded Superman T-shirt that had seen better days. Black bondage cuffs hugged Everett’s wrists. The only time Everett took them off was when he filmed for his cooking vlog.

  Everett took his glass of wine, curled up in his recliner with his legs tucked underneath himself. His immediately drank half of his wine. “Are you going to tell me where you’ve been running off too lately?”

  Craig’s cheeks flushed. He hid his grin behind his glass. “Remember when I stayed out all night not too long ago? I met someone.”

  Everett’s eyebrows raised in surprise, then the corner of his mouth tilted in amusement. “Good for you, man. Tell me about him. Does he tie you up and whip you? Or is he one of those guys that prefer you on all fours with a cute little puppy tail wagging away as he makes you crawl around?”

  Craig shook his head. Sometimes he wondered if telling Everett about his kinkier side had been the right decision. “You’re impossible, you know that, right?”

  Everett leaned back. He used his free hand to shove his hair off his forehead. “Seriously, Craig. Tell me about him. You know I’m the last person who is going to judge you, right?”

  Craig knew Everett was in the lifestyle, though he never shared any specifics and Craig never pushed. All he knew was that Everett was far kinkier than Craig ever thought of being and that he didn’t do clubs. Which meant he had other ways of meeting Doms, probably those freaky apps that scared the shit out of Craig.

  Craig sighed. “I feel like a shit. I can’t seem to stop comparing him to Tim. I do it all the time and I tell myself to stop, but everything he does is so different, so much better that I can’t help it.”

  Everett took a sip of his wine. “It’s natural to compare one relationship against another. Especially when it’s new and you’re still figuring things out. It doesn’t help that things with Tim ended so abruptly and with so little closure for you.”

  “Alan is nothing like him. He’s not hardcore the way Tim was. He doesn’t want to Dom all the time. He used to, but I think both of our past relationships changed what we want going forward.” Craig refilled his empty wine glass. If he were seriously going to sit there and talk about his sex life he needed alcoholic fortification. “Neither one of us want hardcore, full-time, BDSM.” Craig confessed.

  “You say you both want the same thing, so what’s worrying you?”

  Craig took a deep breath. “He owns a club, Ev. He’s selling it, and my uncle offered him a job, but he’s owned a club for years. He’s got way more experience and I know he said he wants a real relationship with a dash of kink, but I can’t help but worry that I’m not enough.”

  Everett whistled. “Shit, dude. That’s a lot to unpack.” He drained the rest of his wine and stretched out so Craig could refill it. “Obviously the guy is into you, he met your uncle.”

  “Good point.”

  “So why don’t you think you’re enough? Is it because he owns a club?”

  Craig raked a hand through his hair. “He’s been a Dom for years. He used to have a full-time submissive. You know my experience,” Craig scoffed. “I barely have any and I’m super picky about my limits. I’m a terrible sub. I keep telling him this, but he says he doesn’t mind. One day though, what if he does mind?” Craig knew the answer to that. One day, Alan was going to mind and then he’d leave. Like Tim had.

  Everett frowned, but before he could comment, Craig went off on a tangent. He’d finished spilling his guts and needed to redirect the conversation for a minute. “He showed up at the hotel.”

  “Who?” Everett asked. “Tim?”

  “Yeah. Not long after he was here he cornered me at work. He said we needed to talk, but I had him thrown out. I’m not interested in anything he has to say. Not after what he did.”

  Everett gracefully unfolded himself and got up off the recliner. He set his wine glass down on the coffee table and plopped down on the couch next to Craig. He slung a slender arm around Craig’s shoulders and tugged him close. “I know you’re freaked out. Tim really hurt you. Being broken up with is one thing, but the way Tim did it was especially cruel. But if you’ve been this unsure around Alan, then I bet that he’s as confused as I am. You need to decide what you want and then go for it. Alan isn’t a mind reader.”

  Craig set his glass on the table next to Everett’s. His stomach churned and frothed like an ocean during a storm. “Uncle Hank offered him a job. A job that probably requires travel. Alan is selling the club. He’ll probably take the job.” Craig clasped his hands together. “Where does that leave me?”

  “There’s Skype. Besides, it doesn’t sound like Alan is exactly hurting for cash. He’ll probably be back to see you all the time. Or you could fly out and see him. But you really shouldn’t borrow trouble, Craig. Nothing is decided yet. Alan might reject the offer, or it might not be what you think it is.”

  Craig sighed. He couldn’t help but feel a little crestfallen. So many times in his life he felt as if he’d found everything he’d been loo
king for and each time it ended up slipping through his fingers. Tim had been the worst of it though. Even before Tim did leave Craig felt like he was losing Tim. It was a truth it took him a long time to accept. Craig closed his eyes and took a deep breath as Everett gripped his shoulder. The weight of his arm across his back gave him a little comfort.

  “I don’t want to lose him, Everett. Tim and I…we were doomed. We never were going to make it. He figured that out before I did, though. But Alan, I think we can. We really mesh, you know. We seem to want all the same things, but you’re right. I’m scared.”

  “Then you’ll have to find a way to trust him, Craig. That’s all there is to it.”

  Craig snorted. “Yeah, because trust is so easy, right.”

  Everett shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not called a leap of faith for nothing.”

  Both Craig and Everett turned their head when someone knocked on Everett’s door.

  Everett furrowed his brow. “I have no idea who that could be. You’re basically the only person I know. Well, there’s Andrew and Xavier, but Andrew left yesterday to help Xavier pack up his stuff.”

  “Andrew and Xavier?”

  Everett hoisted himself off the couch and started toward the door. “Andrew is my childhood best friend and Xavier is his kid brother. He recently finished culinary school and he’s moving in with Andrew.”

  The pounding on the door became more aggressive and Everett yelled out that he was coming. “Sheesh. No one has any patience these days.”

  Craig watched as Everett put his face to the door and looked out the peephole. Everett turned, his face a little whiter. The hairs on the back of Craig’s neck stood up.

  “It’s Tim and he doesn’t look so good.”

  Craig balled his fists and nodded his head. “Let him in.”

  Everett undid the security chain and opened the door and stepped aside. Craig watched as Tim swayed. He put one hand on the wall for support as Everett closed the door and locked it behind him.

  “Everett. I think you should call the police.” Craig said as he wrapped his arms around himself. He patted his pockets until he found he cellphone.

  “No.” Tim’s voice was hoarse. “No cops. Please Craig. No cops. I can’t. Please.” Tim leaned against the wall and Everett grabbed his arm before he collapsed completely.

  Craig could barely look at Tim. His face was a mess. His left eye was black, his lip was split, and he was covered in dried blood from a bleeding nose. He was pale and barely able to stand on his own. Everett helped him over to the couch. Craig’s hand shook, and he nearly dropped his phone. He’d totally forgotten he was holding it. He glanced down at his phone and shot a text to Alan.

  At Everett’s. Tim is here. He’s been roughed up. Please come.

  “No cops, Craig. Please.” Tim’s voice broke.

  “Not cops. Alan.” Craig stared at his phone and backed up another step. The room felt too small and it was too strange to be so close to Tim again. He’d thought he saw the last of him when he threw him out of the hotel.

  Everett returned with a glass of water and a first aid kit tucked under his arm. He sat next to Tim and handed him a couple of painkillers and the water. Tim accepted both graciously. Once Tim swallowed them and drank his fill, Everett took the glass and set it aside. He rifled through the first aid kit. After he procured an antiseptic wipe, he carefully cupped Tim’s chin with one hand.

  “This might sting, but I want to make sure we clean you up okay?” Craig noticed a slight tremble in Everett’s hands as he helped Tim. He hoped the sight of Tim hadn’t brought back bad memories for Everett. Craig knew he’d been through something bad in his past. Craig put a hand on Everett’s shoulder to comfort him.

  Tim nodded. He winced a little when Everett cleaned the damage to his face, but other than that he kept his gaze focused on the floor.

  “What happened, Tim?”

  Tim glanced at Everett, but didn’t say anything. He looked at Craig, but was barely able to maintain eye contact. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, Craig.”

  There was a time, months ago, when Craig would’ve killed to hear those words. Craig imagined a thousand different scenarios in which Tim would come crawling back, or would at least admit that he’d been wrong to leave Craig like that. But never in his wildest imagination did Craig picture this.

  “What happened to you?” Craig’s phone chimed with a text. It was Alan.

  Be there in ten minutes. What’s the apartment number?

  Craig shot Alan a text letting him know that he’d come down to meet him at the front doors. He needed some space and possibly some fresh air. And Alan. He needed his boyfriend and his calming influence. The wine in Craig’s stomach wasn’t sitting well. He glanced at Everett and motioned to the door. Everett nodded, and Craig slipped out.

  He didn’t bother taking the elevator and headed for the stairs instead. He raced down them, desperate for some distance between him and Tim and whatever the fuck happened. Craig assumed it was that hot-headed Dom, boyfriend, whoever, that Craig had run into at the club.

  Craig burst out the front doors and into the fresh air. He stood on the steps of his building, a four-story apartment that was on the older side of things, but the landlords kept it maintained. Craig took a seat on the steps. He wrapped his arms around his legs and set his chin on his knees. Maybe he should’ve listened to Tim when he’d sought him out. Was there a way Craig could’ve prevented all this from happening? Craig shook his head and reminded himself that Tim was the one who made the decision to leave. Anything that happened to him was a direct result of that decision. That didn’t make it Tim’s fault, and it certainly wasn’t Craig’s. He felt guilty anyway.

  Craig looked at the time on his cellphone. Alan would be there any minute. Craig couldn’t wait to throw his arms around him and breathe him in. He needed Alan. Everett was right. It was up to Craig to communicate better. He knew what he wanted, now all he had to do was reach out and ask for it.

  Craig’s mind started working out exactly what he wanted and how he was going to get it. Rehearsing conversations in his head was a good alternative to thinking about Tim. Craig was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice Alan arrive until he heard his name called.

  Craig lifted his gaze. His heart lightened when he saw Alan. Craig stood as Alan got to him. Alan pulled Craig into his arms and he kissed the side of Craig’s head. “What’s going on?” Alan asked.

  Craig let his forehead rest against Alan’s chest and he shut his eyes. “I was having a drink with Everett. We were talking about stuff and then someone knocked. Tim showed up here. He’s all roughed up.”

  “Did you call the police?” Alan rubbed Craig’s back as he spoke.

  “He asked us not to.” Craig clutched at Alan’s shirt. “I hate this. I hate seeing him at all, but I hate seeing him like this even more. Even when I absolutely hated him I never wished anything like this on him. I’m not sure I can do this.”

  “Not sure you can do what?”

  “Be there for him. I didn’t want this to happen to him, I didn’t. But he shows up here all fucked up and looking for help and I don’t want to turn him away, but I don’t have it in me to sit there and not wonder if there was something I could’ve done to prevent this. Maybe I should’ve listened to him when he came to me. I know it’s not my fault, Alan, I know this, but I can’t shake the guilt.”

  “Take a deep breath. It’s okay.” Alan stood there and let Craig collect himself for a minute before Alan insisted that they go upstairs to see what they could do about Tim. Alan took Craig’s hand and didn’t let go.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Alan

  It wasn’t a wonder that Craig had been so shaken up when he arrived. One look at Tim’s face and Alan was shaken as well, but under that was a layer of rage. He was angry at whoever did this to Tim and at Tim for showing up here and dumping his problems on Craig. He was mad at himself for being worried that Craig might want Tim back. Logic dict
ated that taking Tim back wasn’t something Craig thought about doing, but somewhere inside Alan’s mind there was a tiny irrational part of him that was worried sick that this was the beginning of the end.

  It was irrational, but Alan couldn’t stop comparing himself against Craig’s ex. Tim and Craig had a history. They had a friendship that evolved into something more. Alan hadn’t known Craig very long, they hadn’t even—for lack of a better term—gone all the way, yet his feelings for Craig ran deeper than he’d ever anticipated. He hadn’t said the words, but he’d wanted to. He wanted to kiss Craig until he was breathless. He wanted to touch every inch of him and possess him in every single way. Mind. Body. Soul. Alan was greedy where Craig was concerned. He wanted it all.

  First Alan had to get him through this. Tim was a mess. He sat next to Everett, who gave Alan a polite nod. Everett whispered something to Tim. Tim nodded and Everett got up off the couch and signalled for Craig and Alan to follow him out into the hallway.

  Craig kept himself glued to Alan’s side. “What happened to him? Was it his boyfriend?”

  Everett nodded. “It’s a long story and it doesn’t have a particularly happy ending.”

  “Give us the condensed version.” Alan said. He made a mental note to revoke Paul’s membership the minute he into the office. He also intended to send an email to the other clubs in the area.

  “Paul saw Tim and Craig at a club a while back. Paul approached Tim on the sly and offered to train him to be a better Dom. That’s how it started. It was never supposed to be a relationship, not at first, from what Tim told me. He wanted to please Craig. He knew something was off with the two of you and he didn’t want to lose you.”

  Alan felt Craig flinch and he pulled him closer. He understood Tim’s compulsion to do whatever was necessary to keep Craig. It was all he could think about.

  “Paul told Tim the best way to learn to Dom was to be a sub.” Everett stopped and chewed on his lip. He was clearly uncomfortable.