Teddy's Truth

by KD Ellis

  Ian closed his mouth over Teddy’s swollen cock. It filled his mouth comfortably, the perfect size to suck on, just long enough to tickle the roof of his mouth if he engulfed it to the base, which he did. Teddy’s hips surged upward, until Ian curled his fingers around them and gently pressed him back down. He pulled back, his cock slipping free with a gentle pop.

  “Don’t worry, Teddy Bear, I got you,” he promised, glancing up at Teddy to make sure they were still on the same page, still both wrapped in the heat of desire. Teddy’s eyes were hooded, his mouth parted on a gasp. His tongue, pink and talented, slid free to wet his lower lip, a teasing swipe that made Ian want to capture it with his mouth.

  Instead, confident that Teddy was still present, still wanting, Ian engulfed Teddy to the root again.

  It didn’t take long for Teddy to cry out, his hips jerking against Ian’s hands, his body twitching. It drew into a beautiful symphony of soft cries and fingers flexing against Ian’s hair.

  Ian dropped his hand to his own throbbing dick. It took barely two strokes and he was spilling onto the rug with a long groan.

  His head dropped to the cradle of Teddy’s hips as he gathered his breath. Fingers loosened in his hair after a moment, petting over the strands until Ian recovered.

  Then he turned his head and pressed a kiss to Teddy’s inner thigh, the skin pale and smooth as silk. He dropped a second to Teddy’s sharp hipbone, a third to the dip of his navel. He trailed his lips up to the hollow of Teddy’s throat before he hovered over his lover’s lips.

  He hesitated, suddenly concerned that Teddy wasn’t ready to taste himself in Ian’s mouth, but Teddy didn’t wait. He lunged upward, sealing their mouths together in a demanding display of ownership, chasing his climax from Ian’s tongue before breaking free with a gasp.

  When they separated, heat still flared in Teddy’s eyes. Ian wanted to carry him into his bedroom and ravish him, but he knew that now wasn’t the time. Teddy quivered beneath him, and a yawn split his mouth after a second.

  “I want you to stay,” Ian murmured.

  Teddy scanned his face, as though he was trying to read Ian’s intentions, before he nodded. “I want to stay.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Ian’s bed was the size of a small country. Teddy snuggled into the blankets, stretching his legs toward the foot, his toes pointed. Even with his arms outspread as far as he could reach, he couldn’t touch either side.

  He was never getting out of this bed.

  Ian hovered near the edge. Teddy rolled onto his side, anxiety blossoming in his stomach. Maybe Ian was disappointed. Teddy knew he wasn’t large, and even without the remnants of his bindings on his skin, he had scars. Any confidence he had in his appearance had dwindled during his time in the box.

  He shoved the thought down. He would take it out later and turn it over, analyze it…piece it together into something he could handle. For now, he needed to ignore it. It was too fresh, an oozing, weeping wound in his psyche.

  He smothered it beneath his insecurity, and his insecurity beneath anger, his anger beneath discomfort. He rolled them into a ball and shoved it into a corner, then tugged on a smile.

  He lifted the blanket. “Are you getting in?”

  “Only if you want me to,” Ian answered, the lips that had brought Teddy so much pleasure curving down.

  Teddy’s smile faltered. “I… Don’t you want to?”

  Ian’s frown softened, his eyes turning liquid. He kneeled on the mattress and crawled his way under the comforter and over to Teddy, folding himself around him like a security blanket. “Of course I want to.”

  Teddy shifted around until his back pressed against Ian’s chest. He grabbed Ian’s arm and tugged it over him until he was held completely. Instead of feeling trapped, he felt safe.

  Secure.

  Protected.

  He fell asleep to Ian’s fingers tracing patterns on his skin.

  Ian sat, propped up on his elbow, and watched Teddy sleep. Whatever ordeal the younger man had been through had clearly left him exhausted. He’d passed out almost immediately.

  Ian’s eyes followed the path of one reddened welt up Teddy’s wrist, nearly to the elbow. He had enough experience to recognize rope burn when he saw it. This wasn’t the prickly, reddened mark of shibari that left delicate patterns on pale skin but faded quickly. It was the angry blisters of serious bondage. Gently, careful not to wake him from much-needed rest, Ian lifted Teddy’s hands, first the right, then the left, lingering over the fingertips.

  Loss of circulation over a prolonged period could leave permanent damage, but thankfully, he noticed none of the symptoms that spoke of trauma too severe. The fingertips looked healthy, a pale pink. He flipped the hands over, palms up, and winced at the ragged blisters following the fleshy base of Teddy’s fingers and the arch of his thumb.

  Ian grabbed one of the half-dozen pillows that decorated his bed—for show more than anything—and slid off the mattress, leaving the pillow in his place. It took him minutes to get the first-aid kit out of the en-suite bathroom and open it, taking the supplies he needed back into the bedroom. Ian laid them on the mattress and sat.

  He lifted Teddy’s hands again, cradling them in his lap. The kit was FBI-grade, practically a hospital in miniature. He picked up the aerosol analgesic and sprayed the worst of the wounds. Cleaning them out was going to hurt, and he didn’t want to wake Teddy while he did it. It wasn’t like the spray was hard to come by. It would be easy enough to requisition more later, if he needed it.

  While he waited for the spray to work, he combed through the damp strands of hair that fell over Teddy’s face. Teddy looked peaceful in sleep, even younger than his twenty-two years. Ian couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and brushing a whisper of a kiss across his forehead.

  Teddy shifted and Ian pulled back, afraid he’d woken him, but Teddy just breathed a sweet sigh and nuzzled farther into his pillow. Ian let out the breath he’d instinctively held. He forced himself to get back on task, to not get distracted staring at the fey boy in his bed.

  He grabbed the antiseptic and carefully started cleaning out the blisters, smoothing on a bandage when he was finished. In the end, he only needed five—one for each palm, where the blisters had broken and wept a clear fluid, one for a sore on his lower ribcage and one for the sole of each foot. No wonder Teddy hadn’t limped much, since both feet were shredded equally. He felt uncomfortable as he inspected Teddy carefully from scalp to toes, struggling to remain professional, while at the same time feeling like he was adding to the violation. The prickly sensation in the pit of his stomach worsened when he gently pried apart Teddy’s buttocks, looking for evidence of assault. If there were bleeding or tears, they couldn’t afford to overlook them. It would mean a hospital trip, followed by a trip to the police station.

  Ian nearly sagged in relief at the unmarked flesh and quickly removed his hands. He didn’t think Teddy’s assault had gone that far, though in his mind, it had gone more than far enough.

  He contained his anger in a tightly wound ball in his chest until he’d finished his ministrations and returned the first-aid kit to the bathroom. Then, after checking to make sure that Teddy was still sleeping soundly, he slipped out of the room.

  He headed to his study, where his laptop sat innocently on the desk, unaware of the dilemma it stirred in him.

  He wasn’t allowed to use department resources for personal gain.

  But the answer to who’d damaged Teddy could literally be at his fingertips.

  If he were caught, it could mean a citation.

  But his file was squeaky clean, not a single mark against him.

  Obviously, while his mind ran the pros and cons for him, his body decided to act on its own, because he was sitting and logging in to the server before he realized he’d come to a decision. He hesitated briefly before typing Teddy’s name into the database.

  Part of him was certain that nothing would show up because Teddy wasn’t the ki
nd of person to end up on an FBI watchlist. He was surprised, then, when on the screen, a small brown folder popped up, next to the words ‘Person of Interest’.

  His cursor hovered over the file as he second guessed. This was a violation of Teddy’s privacy. If Teddy wanted him to know, he’d have told him, and unless Teddy was directly involved in a case he was working on, Ian had no right to run a background check, let alone scour the FBI database for his activities.

  What could Teddy be involved in to land himself on the FBI’s radar? Ian’s mind flicked back to before he’d run away from Austin. Drugs, maybe? Though in the months Ian had been back, he’d never seen a sign that Teddy was using again.

  It could be as simple as having witnessed a crime in progress. ‘Person of Interest’ didn’t necessarily mean suspect and didn’t necessarily mean Teddy was involved in anything illegal.

  Ian closed the browser before he could talk himself fully into opening the folder. When Teddy woke up, Ian would take him back to his apartment for a few days’ worth of clothes. If Teddy didn’t open up to him himself over the next few days—or if something else happened—Ian would read the file. Until then, the only way he could earn Teddy’s trust was to be worthy of it.

  He shut his laptop.

  Rather than act on the impulse to watch Teddy sleep, he detoured into his gym and jumped on the treadmill, determined to burn the anger away through exercise.

  Not that any amount of running was enough to quench the fury.

  * * * *

  Teddy woke alone.

  The room was dark, curtains drawn over the windows and not so much as a nightlight in sight. Teddy sat up, for a moment uncertain where he was. He shivered and gripped the expensive cotton sheets, pulling them up over his nude body. It wasn’t until he unclenched his hands from their painful grip that he noticed the white bandages on either palm. He frowned and shoved the blankets back down, examining his body.

  A larger bandage followed the curve of his rib on his left flank, and he felt the itch of gauze swaddling the arches of his feet. Someone had taken time to care for his injuries, and immediately, the memories of the night—day? What time is it?—before came flooding back. He was at Ian’s apartment, after getting caught breaking into Ian’s club to use Ian’s shower.

  He flushed at the other memories—the taste of Ian’s salty pre-cum on his tongue, before Ian had deprived him of it to give Teddy the best blow job of his life. The feeling of Ian’s fingers owning every inch of his skin.

  Teddy frowned, scanning the twisted mess of covers around him, but none of them hid Ian. At some point while he had slept, Ian had slipped out of the room. Teddy squinted at the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock. It was nearly eleven. He’d slept for over six hours, longer than he was used to getting in a night. No wonder his limbs felt like jelly.

  Teddy shoved the covers off completely and swung his legs over the edge of the high bed. His feet barely skimmed the floor. He winced when standing put pressure on his tender soles. Ian was probably downstairs, either behind the bar slinging drinks, since Teddy had clearly slept through the first half of his shift, or in his office downstairs, finishing up the never-ending paperwork he always complained about.

  Teddy padded out into the living room to find the clothing Ian had set out for him earlier still where they’d been left, in a neat pile on the coffee table. His muscles ached, fire tearing through his shoulders as he pulled on the baggy black shirt stamped with Envy’s logo. His thighs screamed as he struggled to step into the legs of the sweatpants. They sagged low on his hips, even after he tightened the drawstring as far as it would go and knotted it off.

  A bit of searching led him to a pristine bathroom, where he straightened out his hair as best he could. He struggled not to look at the red-and-purple bruise that spread from his jaw to his cheekbone. It was so obviously a handprint. A second, smaller but blacker bruise covered his temple, disappearing into his hairline. Teddy lifted his fingers to prod at it, poking the tender flesh before pulling his finger away with a hiss.

  Of course it hurts, dumbass.

  If he kept his head down, maybe he could slip unnoticed into the dressing room downstairs before finding Ian. He kept a small makeup kit in his locker for the days he ended up running too late to go home before his shift.

  He made it into the dressing room undetected—but then came face-to-face with seven half-dressed dancers.

  The laughter and rough-housing trickled away as one after another, they glanced over and caught sight of him. It wasn’t like the bruise was hard to see, and unlike some of the guys who lived by the motto ‘work hard, play harder’, he wasn’t one to engage in kinky sexcapades—or at least, not ones that ended up leaving marks.

  Shiloh dropped the heels he was carrying with a curse and hurried over. “Shit, Teddy, what happened?” Shiloh grabbed Teddy’s wrist in a none-too-gentle grip and dragged him over to the bench at the far end. “Talk.”

  Teddy flushed, catching the way the dancers glanced at him from the corner of their eyes. This wasn’t the best place to have a private conversation, and he still hadn’t decided if he wanted to tell Shiloh in the first place.

  Shiloh fidgeted, his hands fluttering like he was going to touch Teddy, then dropping to scratch at a scab on his thigh, then lifting again.

  “Just… Stop, Shiloh.” Teddy knocked Shiloh’s hand away from the now-bleeding sore. “Just help me cover it up and I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  “Promise?” Shiloh asked, hands finally stilling.

  “Yeah.”

  Shiloh hesitated, his eyes scanning Teddy’s face like he thought he was lying before he stood and grabbed his makeup kit. It was larger than Teddy’s and several hundred dollars more expensive, and it didn’t take Shiloh long to have it spread out across the bench on either side of them, taking up enough space for three people. Teddy winced as Shiloh spread primer over the bruise. No matter how gentle Shiloh tried to be, it stung like a motherfucker.

  “Sorry,” Shiloh mumbled, his lip caught between his teeth as he started dabbing concealer over the marks. At least by the time he got to foundation, Teddy’s skin was so on fire that it hardly made a difference. “Are we just hiding them or do you want a full face?”

  Teddy thought of Ian waiting somewhere behind the bar and hesitated. He wanted to look pretty for Ian, but he didn’t want his love of makeup to run off someone who had already become one of the most important people in his life. He straightened his spine, tensing his jaw. Ian had never complained about his makeup or the way he dressed, and if he tried to start now, then he didn’t deserve Teddy anyway.

  “Full face,” Teddy answered with confidence.

  Shiloh grinned and Teddy closed his eyes, letting him paint his face. They sat in comfortable silence, settling into the routine. He couldn’t see, but several times Teddy heard the door open and shut as dancers came and left, as the time for their sets came up. He felt muscles he didn’t know were tense relax at the feel of the makeup brush’s bristles dancing their way across his eyelids or along his cheekbones, even tracing the shadows of his neck. He trusted Shiloh to use his discretion with the makeup, knowing his friend would only ever make him look his best.

  The door opened again, but the voice that spoke wasn’t a dancer, it was Johnny. “Jesus Christ, Teddy, you were scheduled to start hours ago, and Shiloh, your set is five minutes overdue.” He sounded exasperated but Teddy didn’t bother turning to look. Ian knew where he was. He could have woken him if he was worried about it, and everyone knew that Shiloh worked here for shits and giggles.

  Shiloh, to his credit, was much politer in his reply to Johnny then Teddy expected. He just said, “Fuck off, duckweed,” and went back to applying a sheen of lip gloss to Teddy’s lips.

  “Watch your mouth or I’ll dock you,” Johnny snapped.

  Shiloh probably rolled his eyes, but then there was the distinct sound of a door shutting as Johnny left.

  “Okay, all done,” Shiloh said, an
d Teddy heard the cap twist back onto the lip gloss. “Now, tell me you’re not wearing that.”

  Teddy opened his eyes and glanced down at the baggy sweatpants and T-shirt combo. “I was going for shabby-chic.”

  “You tripped into full-on guttersnipe, babe.” Shiloh said, voice caught between apology and playful teasing. “Here… I have an extra pair of shorts you can borrow.” Shiloh hopped up and bounded over to his locker, tugging out a pair of neon-pink silk panties that were so not regulation.

  “Ian gave you permission for those?” Teddy asked, doubting it very much.

  “I asked Johnny. He didn’t answer, but that might have been because he was too busy drooling. Here… Try them on.” Shiloh tossed them into Teddy’s lap.

  Teddy barely stopped himself in time from biting his lip and screwing up the gloss. “How much concealer you got?”

  Shiloh frowned, planting his hands on his hips, fingers bracketing the piercings over his hipbones. “There more bruises you need me to work my magic on?”

  Teddy shrugged, his gaze drifting downward. He tugged off the shirt, then hesitated before dropping trou. He wasn’t embarrassed to be nude in front of Shiloh. They’d both seen each other naked too many times to count, and both of them had agreed years ago that they weren’t each other’s type.

  “Damn, Teddy,” Shiloh breathed, stepping closer. “Whose ass do I need to kick?”

  Teddy would have laughed at the thought of Shiloh kicking anyone’s ass if he didn’t sound so serious. And when Teddy looked at him, a frisson of fear jolted down his spine. Shiloh was short and slender, but with the pissed look on his face and his clenched fists, Teddy actually believed Shiloh could do some damage if he wanted to.

  “No one’s.” Teddy mumbled. “I got myself into a bit of a pickle with some people I owe money to.” He grabbed the pink panties and tugged them on to give him something to do besides see the judgement that surely was on Shiloh’s face.

  “People you… Damn it, Teddy, what did you do?”