by SE Jakes
Derek went and grabbed another cool washcloth from the bathroom and rubbed Glen’s face and chest as he lay back against the pillows.
“When I met John, I was at the breaking point. The swimming wasn’t doing it for me. I was losing focus. Something else was driving me.”
“And John brought it out for you.”
“Yeah.” Glen’s voice sounded far away, halfway between sleep and memory.
Derek let him drift off, suddenly too caught up in his own memories…and worries.
He was a good Dom. A good man. But living up to John…
Glen didn’t even call you when he was sick.
That had hit him like a physical blow.
Derek handed him the glass of soda. “Drink. Take your pills. And just relax.”
“An order?”
“Direct.”
Glen barely got the pills down before he was asleep. Derek’s flight home was booked for the next morning—two days before Christmas Eve. He moved it twenty-four hours ahead, would play it by ear, because there was no way he was leaving Glen this sick and alone.
Now wasn’t the time to bug Glen about coming home with him, either. Derek had accepted that wouldn’t happen, pretty much assumed Glen would still be away over the holidays, too. No doubt, Glen would be the one to volunteer to work so pilots with families could be with them.
He brushed some damp hair from Glen’s forehead as he sat next to him on the bed. Switched on the TV and tried to figure out who he was angrier at—himself or the boy.
In the end, he decided it was his fault and ended up taking Glen’s hand in his.
He was dreaming—and he was stripping from the incredible heat. Maybe his helo crashed and he was crawling in the desert looking for help. He called out but didn’t recognize his own voice.
“Glen, come on, it’s all right.”
Derek.
Derek was touching his head, whispering. Fuck. Glen was hot and cold…remembered that he was down with the flu, that he was home in his own bed.
“Glen, you with me?”
He opened his eyes and stared up at Derek. He couldn’t say anything, but it didn’t matter. Derek was in control, taking care of him. Cooling him, heating him…not leaving his side. He knew he slept, but for how long, he wasn’t sure.
But finally, he was awake and, although still dizzy, he was able to open his eyes for longer than a minute or two.
“Hey, bud.” Derek ran a hand through his own hair. He looked tired.
“How long have you been here?”
“A little over twenty-four hours. You said you’d been back for a couple of days, though.”
“Yeah.” He accepted a long drink of fizzy soda before lying back on the pillows. Remembered talking, and then he was back asleep.
And then he realized he could hear the strains of an argument. He didn’t know if it was day or night—or what day it actually was—because the fever still held him in its grip.
But when he heard the words, “What are you doing with my son?” it was as if he was seventeen years old again and getting caught in John’s apartment.
He’d been half-dressed, his ass sore from the much-needed spanking John had recently delivered, coming out of the bedroom.
John answered the door in only a towel, and yeah, it looked bad. Looked exactly like what you’d think happened just happened, and Glen was frozen to the spot, staring at his mother standing there.
“Glen Michael Rhodes, what are you doing?” The look on her face was anger blended with disgust.
And still, he couldn’t speak. John had asked her to leave immediately but she refused.
“He’s coming home with me,” his mother said.
“No.” John held firm, even when she’d threatened him with the police. Maybe he, like Glen, knew she’d never embarrass herself with a court case of that nature.
That evening, for the first time in nine years, Glen didn’t go to swim practice, spent the night curled in John’s bed, scared to go home and not sure how to go forward.
Eventually, he got up and pushed the covers aside. Went home and had the huge, blow-out fight with his parents he’d expected, packed and went back to John’s.
He’d enlisted in the Navy three months later on his eighteenth birthday. He’d tried to keep swimming—John encouraged it, said he’d help finance it as well—but Glen’s heart was no longer in it. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure it ever had been.
Now, he forced himself out of bed. It was dark out and he stumbled a little as he headed toward the voices.
His worst nightmare had indeed forced her way into his townhouse and Derek was telling her to keep her voice down.
“And who are you?”
“I’m his friend,” Derek told her diplomatically while Glen waited in the shadows of the hallway, wishing the whole damned thing would go away.
“Friend?” she sneered. “I know what friend means to your kind of people.”
“I’ll bet you do,” Derek continued in his unflinchingly calm tone that must be making his mother angrier.
He couldn’t let this happen again. And this time, Glen found his footing, moved forward with a purpose he finally understood and told her, “Get the hell out of here.”
She turned and stared at him. “You can’t talk to me like that.”
“I just did. I cut you off the way you cut me off,” he told her. “We have no more relationship.”
“I’m trying to save you, Glen Michael. I don’t want you to burn in hell for this…lifestyle. A good man would repent,” she pleaded. The sickening part of all of it was that she truly believed this bullshit.
Derek’s stance didn’t change—but he looked right at Glen even though his words were directed to Glen’s mother. “Your son is probably the best man I know. I’m honored to be a part of his life. And you can leave now.”
“You’ll burn in hell too.”
“I guess we’ll be seeing you there,” Derek said.
She turned her fury from Glen to Derek. “You men corrupted my son. He wasn’t born like this.”
He had been—and there was nothing more to say, except, “If you leave now, I won’t call the police.”
Derek pointed, went to put a light hand on her shoulder to guide her out of the front hallway and she flinched. “Don’t you touch me.”
“It’s not contagious, you know,” Glen said. “Or maybe it is.”
With that, she turned her icy facade to the outside and left.
“I’m guessing I just met one of your good reasons for not wanting anything to do with parents,” Derek said.
All Glen could do was nod. He wanted to apologize, but it was as if all the strength had been zapped from his body.
He thought they could never humiliate him again, but he’d obviously been wrong, and still, Derek had handled it so well.
“You didn’t deserve that,” he said tiredly.
“Neither did you,” Derek said.
Glen nodded, because he wasn’t sure of much, but that he did know. “Sorry.”
“S’okay.”
“They’re religious. Middle-class. My father had no tolerance for anyone who wasn’t like them. So they never practiced what they preached.” Swimming would’ve been a way out of the small town for him—which was exactly the escape he’d wanted. Or so he thought.
Instead, he’d moved two towns over after he’d saved enough money to move off base. Didn’t feel guilty about not getting out, because in so many important ways, he had.
Chapter Eight
Derek took a few deep breaths because he didn’t want Glen to see how close to over-the-edge angry he was that a mother could treat her son that way. Didn’t want Glen to think for one second that he was angry at him for anything his mother did or said. He wished he could’ve saved Glen from hearing any of that.
Glen, who stood in the doorway, bare-chested. His cheeks were flushed from fever—anger—his body language reading tight and defensive. “Why now after all this time?” h
e muttered.
“Promise of the end of the world brings out the insanity in some people.”
“She never needed an excuse.”
The anger would come out now, mainly to cover the shame. But Derek had to tread carefully. The fever still had Glen in its grips—he wouldn’t be thinking all that rationally anyway but coupled with something this extreme happening… “Why don’t you get back into bed—get some more sleep?”
“Can’t sleep now.” Glen shrugged. There was a sudden look of defiance in his eyes that made Derek want to hug him…and put him over his knee.
“You can’t let her get to you.”
“She’s been doing it for years. Just when I think I’ve made it out, she shows up to berate me about who I am or what I am. So don’t tell me to not let her get to me like it’s so goddamned easy. It’s great that your family’s so accepting, but you haven’t lived through what I have, so don’t pretend you know everything.”
“Don’t do this, Glen.”
“What?” He brushed past Derek and headed to the couch. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that, for the boy, seeing her made all the old feelings rush back. It wasn’t the gay part Glen was ashamed of—it was no doubt the kink. Why he’d never been able to let it go…why he needed it so badly…and that was something Derek wanted to help him deal with.
“It’s not her—it’s you. You’re the problem.”
“Then get the fuck out,” Glen told him. “Because I sure as hell don’t want to be your problem.”
“You’re pushing your luck with me, boy.”
Glen’s chin jutted. “Like I said, then leave. I’m not asking you to handle this.”
“But I’m doing it anyway. It doesn’t matter if she never accepts you. You have to accept yourself,” Derek said.
“Put it on a greeting card,” Glen muttered, and that was exactly what Derek wanted to hear.
“I gave you the rope and you just hung yourself,” he growled and then he moved to action.
Glen immediately regretted his words, saw the look in Derek’s eyes and knew he was in for it. Before he could back away, Derek had him in a hold, had him cuffed and helpless before he could utter any kind of apology. But the hold made him angrier and he fought, told Derek to get the fuck off him.
“Not a chance, little boy,” Derek told him. And then the man had him over his knee—he had the element of surprise on his side, plus he made use of the fact that Glen wasn’t exactly steady on his feet yet.
“No—not like this.” Glen struggled, but his sweats pulled down easily and Derek’s hand met his ass with a hard slap.
“I’m not doing this to punish you for what happened. I’m doing this to stop you from doubting yourself, your choices. None of this is wrong. I’m not letting you up until you realize it.”
Glen howled, part anger, part regret, and he fought too. Might’ve won with a lesser Dom or if his wrists weren’t tied, but luck wasn’t on his side.
Derek’s bare hand met bare bottom again and again with a thwack that reverberated through his soul, and no, it wasn’t the way it had been with John, but it wasn’t the way it had been with Mark either. It was better than it had ever been. Derek was good at this. Better than good, he realized when the measured slaps had him sinking into that place where pleasure mingled with pain, melding into one until he couldn’t see straight.
Until he didn’t care about anything else but the pleasure.
He wasn’t sure when it stopped or when the orgasm shot through him, because that hadn’t been his goal. All the pain, anger, grief poured out of him until there was nothing left but pure, unadulterated pleasure.
And while he was still in the throes of his orgasm, Derek was picking him up, putting him over the back of the couch, bent him forward so he couldn’t move. And still, Derek kept a hand on the back of his neck, tight.
Derek thrust hard, over and over without stopping, giving Glen no time to recover from the constant intense pleasure of his cock jutting against Glen’s prostate.
This sex was dirty. Hot. Hard and fast and slow and depraved. Glen begged for everything he got wantonly. Watched Derek love giving it to him, heard Derek say, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting it like this. Never was.”
Glen was aware that he was yelling—probably nonsense in between groans, and then it was like he blacked out as his cock pumped out come like he’d been celibate for years.
He was aware of Derek helping him up. Murmuring, his breath soothing against Glen’s too-warm skin. Everything ached, including his head, but Derek wasn’t going to push away that easily. Held him, stroked him, until he remembered how good what was supposed to be so bad felt.
When he was finally completely pliant in his arms, Derek took him into the bedroom.
“That’s it…come on, give yourself over to me again,” Derek encouraged as he positioned them in front of the mirror on the outside of the closed closet door, with Glen standing in front of him. Glen let his head fall back, watched them in the mirror as Derek’s hand slid up and down his cock, taking him the way Glen wanted.
Derek’s cock rubbed against him, but he didn’t fuck him again, simply jerked Glen off as Glen gasped and jolted.
“Hold yourself still,” Derek demanded. Glen did, but it wasn’t enough. Not until Derek pushed him to the wall, and Glen held his palms out on opposite sides of the mirror to brace himself. Let Derek pull another orgasm from him, this one making him relax totally. And then Derek had him again, held him up, wrapped him tight. Cleaned them both in the shower as the dazed sleep settled in.
When he woke sometime the next afternoon, he was curled around Derek as if he were protecting the Dom.
Derek didn’t seem to mind, was sleeping peacefully. Glen moved down and took his cock in his mouth—he hardened immediately.
“Beautiful baby,” he murmured as Glen began to worship his body, kissed his way down, nipping and sucking and marking his Dom, making Derek groan when his tongue licked the head of his cock. Glen deep-throated him as Derek’s fingers threaded through his hair.
“Come fuck your daddy,” he said, pointed to his lap. Glen stripped…lowered himself, poised to slide himself down on Derek’s cock. When Derek touched his ass cheeks with his hands, Glen winced, which was good. He’d remember.
“Gently, baby—you’ll be sore,” Derek reminded him, because the sex between them had been hard and fast. But this one would be different. Glen would take the lead and it was soft and slow. He lowered himself gingerly onto Derek’s cock, both of them moaning as he finally took Derek completely inside of him.
And, for the first time since they’d been together, Glen didn’t worry about being bound. Wrapped his arms around Derek’s broad shoulders, held the man the way he’d wanted to while they made love—quiet and intense—even as the storm began to howl around them. It shook the house the way Derek had shaken Glen up.
And it was fucking perfect.
In the aftermath, Derek lay on his back with Glen curled around him again. He stroked his hand along the boy’s naked back. So much baggage put to rest behind them. Today felt like a new start for both of them.
Glen spoke first. “Until last night…I didn’t realize…tying me really gets you off.”
“You couldn’t tell that before this?”
“I wanted to make sure. I mean, you don’t want to be tied or anything?”
“I’m content tying you,” he told Glen. “What you’re doing—what we’re doing—is enough for me. More than. I told you—I’ll tie you whenever and however you need it.”
“It’s one of the only times all the noise in my head stops—the worry, the fear, the stress, the day-to-day shit. Holding me so I can’t move quiets me. Weird, right?”
“No, it’s not. Makes sense.” Derek hugged him. “And I love giving it to you.”
“Even though I’m a complete pain in the ass, right?”
“Fights are a normal part of a relationship.” Derek paused. “I’d like to think that’s
what we have.”
Glen nodded. “I guess I suck at it.”
“Sucking is one of your finer qualities.”
“Asshole,” Glen muttered. “You really think you can handle me? Deal with all my shit?”
“I don’t think your baggage is the problem. Just fucking accept that your kink is being tied. From there, the rest should be easy.”
After all the man had done for him, Derek asked so little in return. And Glen still couldn’t bring himself to go to the man’s family for Christmas.
He felt like he was saying no to the relationship, but he didn’t want to lie anymore. “I knew I’d be home for Christmas.”
“I guess you had a really good reason to lie about it,” Derek said.
Dammit, this was hard. It would be so much easier to walk away. “I wasn’t ready to talk about my reasons.”
“But then it walked through the door.” Derek’s gaze was steady.
“Can you blame me?”
“Never. I know I can tell you my family’s not like that and you’re not ready to believe it. I can accept that, but fuck, no one should be alone on Christmas.”
“I’ll be okay. You won’t be gone long. And I want this to work. Don’t want to let you go.”
“Then don’t.”
Glen responded to Derek by kissing him, holding on to the back of his neck like he didn’t want to give the man the chance—or the option—of getting away. Derek let that slide because he really enjoyed the possessiveness in the boy. Shit like that really turned him on…and he had a feeling Glen had that figured out as well.
Chapter Nine
The next morning, Glen felt like his old self. Better than, maybe. His ass was sore and he rubbed it as he got out of bed.
He heard Derek on the phone with the airlines.
“I’ll take anything. Doesn’t matter if it’s connecting.” He paused. “Yeah, no, it’s Christmas Eve. I get it.”
He hung up, ran his hands through his hair, elbows on the table. His back was so tense, Glen stepped forward and began to massage his shoulders. Derek let out an appreciative groan as Glen’s fingers dug in. “No flight?”