Firm Hand

by Nora Phoenix

  This time, he wanted to offer and let Rhys decide whether he thought it would be a good time. He showered again, thoroughly cleaning himself. It took effort to shave himself down there, what with his limited mobility and painful shoulder, but he managed it without nicking himself—always a bonus.

  Holding a hand mirror, he checked to make sure he looked presentable. He wasn't as tight and taut as he'd been twenty years ago, but at least he looked like the best version of himself he could manage right now.

  He walked down buck naked, and in the basement, retrieved one of his own butt plugs, still neatly marked in Jonas's handwriting. Memories threatened to assault him as soon as he entered the playroom, but he pushed them back. There was a time to grieve, and right now wasn't it. He had to stay in the present and maybe even allow himself to look at the future again and dream about what could be.

  Back in his bedroom, he liberally lubed up and took his time loosening himself with a dildo, then inserted the butt plug. Again, he checked in the mirror to see if it looked good.

  Ugh, who was he kidding? Just one glance downward revealed the plethora of scars on his body, especially his legs, but there was nothing he could do about those. He would never be sexy again, but last time, Rhys hadn't seemed to mind much. It would have to do.

  As the time neared that Rhys would come home, Cornell's nerves intensified, a twisted pretzel in his stomach. He took position in the hallway where he knew Rhys would enter, his hands clammy and his body slightly shivering. The emotions inside him swelled up into a crescendo, making tears threaten behind his eyelids. He was feeling too much, hoping too much, maybe even assuming too much. But there was no turning back now.

  He heard the garage door open, then the car drive in. The engine shut off. The garage door closed. Then the car door opening, closing, and finally, the hallway door opening. He kept his head bowed, standing in the exact position Rhys had shown him.

  He heard him gasp softly, then a soft thud as Rhys dropped his bag on the floor. Wrestling sounds followed, Rhys taking off his jacket, then kicking off his boots. All Cornell could do was interpret the sounds, as he couldn’t see him with his head bowed. He walked over to Cornell, entering his line of vision. The appreciative low hum he let out was music to Cornell's ears.

  "Look at you," Rhys said, his voice like honey. "Perfect position, all ready for me to come home."

  His hand, so soft and yet so strong at the same time, caressed his head, then his neck, his shoulder, trailing down his back. Cornell loved how possessively Rhys grabbed his ass, a tingle shooting through him when his fingers brushed the butt plug.

  "Oh," Rhys said, his voice changing in tone, dropping lower and getting a seductive edge. "I see you got all ready for me."

  "Yes, Sir," Cornell said.

  Rhys stepped closer, lifting Cornell's chin up with his index finger. Cornell met his eyes, burning with something he couldn't even try to define. Then Rhys took his mouth in a scorching kiss, and he couldn't think at all anymore.

  He held position, as much because Rhys hadn't told him he could move as because he was unable to, what with his mind going to absolute mush at the onslaught on his mouth, his lips, his tongue. Rhys didn't just kiss him—he claimed him, possessed him with a bold confidence that was intoxicating.

  Then Rhys started to move, walking them backward until Cornell had his back against the wall. The cold wall hit his ass cheeks, but that shock was quickly forgotten when Rhys pressed his own body against Cornell's. Oh, that tongue, that devious, slick tongue that stroked in and out of his mouth, fucking it the way he dreamed of Rhys fucking him. His cock, so unreliable in its reactions lately, was rock hard, caught between Rhys's body and his own.

  "You're so perfect," Rhys whispered against his swollen lips that were slightly throbbing with the force of the kiss.

  At first, Cornell wanted to protest the gross inaccuracy of that statement, but then he looked into Rhys's eyes, and saw the truth there. With all his imperfections, Rhys saw something else. Rhys had called him perfect, and he had meant it.

  "Thank you, Sir," he said.

  Rhys's face broke open in a broad smile. "You really are perfect for me," he said, and then they both stilled as they looked at each other, the heaviness of that statement hanging in the air.

  Again, Cornell wanted to deny it, but he couldn't. Not when Rhys looked at him like that. Instead, he whispered, "Will you please fuck me?"

  His heart dropped when Rhys didn't respond immediately, but instead, kept looking at Cornell with a far more serious look than was befitting a question like that. Was he about to get rejected again?

  Rhys cupped both his cheeks, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to Cornell's lips. It didn't do much to stop the sinking feeling in his stomach.

  And then Rhys uttered the one sentence that had never been good news in any relationship. "We need to talk."

  Cornell felt himself recoil, but Rhys felt it too. He must have, considering he tightened his grip on Cornell while at the same time reacting with visible shock. "No, not like that. That came out all wrong. There's nothing for you to worry about, I promise."

  Cornell had to swallow a few times before he trusted himself to speak. "Then why do we need to talk before you can answer my question?"

  The way Rhys caressed his cheek with one finger caused butterflies to swarm in Cornell's stomach. It took away some of his fear, because surely, no man would be so cruel to gesture that sweetly and then follow it up with a rejection. But still, he wasn't convinced the talk Rhys had proposed would be good news for him.

  Rhys leaned in for another slow, soft kiss. "I promise you, sweetheart, everything is fine. I just want to talk about our mutual expectations, and I know this sounds boring and heavy, but indulge me, please."

  The fact that he called him sweetheart again relieved some of Cornell’s worries. How he loved the careful way Rhys always said it, never routine or thoughtless, but always with the power of intention behind it.

  Cornell allowed himself to pout. "You know, when your sub awaits you naked, prepped and all, a boring talk is not the desired outcome."

  Rhys smiled at him, then winked. "I promise you that you'll love the outcome of this talk."

  Somewhat ameliorated, Cornell smiled back at him. "Does this talk require me to wear clothes?"

  Rhys's smile widened. "No, absolutely not. In fact, I much prefer having you naked."

  Minutes later, they were on the couch together. At first, Cornell had thought Rhys had been kidding about wanting him to stay naked, but it seemed he was serious about that. As soon as Cornell had indicated he wanted to go to his bedroom to put on some clothes, Rhys had shot him a dark look that made it crystal clear how he felt about that. Then he'd cranked up the heat and pointed toward the couch.

  So there they were, Rhys still fully clothed and Cornell butt naked, that stupid plug still in his ass. He didn't mind it so much, but it was more the slight humiliation of it, knowing that he'd gone through all the trouble, only to be… Well, he had been rejected, right?

  "So, what was so important that you prioritized it over my offer?" he asked, unable to keep his disappointment out of his voice.

  "I'm sorry," Rhys said, and the gravity of his tone indicated he meant it. "I wasn't expecting this when I came home, obviously, and I made some big decisions myself today that I wanted to share with you first. These are good things, but we do need to make some decisions together before we can move on."

  Cornell’s eyes darkened. "I'm getting a bit tired of people telling me to move on. I like where I am right now just fine."

  "I get that you are disappointed, but if you insist on being bratty, we can also postpone this talk to later, and you can parade around all night butt naked for my enjoyment. How does that sound?"

  Oh god, the way Rhys's voice dropped when he got all stern with him. It did funny things to Cornell's stomach, to the butterflies that seemed to have taken up permanent residence there. And the funny thing was that his threat was as scar
y as it was exciting, fucked up as it was.

  "I'm sorry, Sir," he said.

  Rhys pressed a soft kiss on his forehead, signaling his forgiveness, and Cornell let out a relieved breath.

  "I want to talk to you about the future," Rhys said, and Cornell's stomach dropped all over again.

  * * *

  Rhys remembered a few important conversations in his life. The one where he'd told his parents he was gay came to mind—not that he expected much of a reaction from that. The talk he'd had with Raf about him becoming a Dom. Raf telling him about his Daddy and being a little. Then there were job interviews, the talk with his dad's lawyer after the accident, and he could think of a few more. But none of them had been as important as this one. He could not fuck this up.

  As soon as he mentioned the word future, he could see the expression on Cornell's face change. It was clear the man wasn't expecting anything good to come from this. He had to manage his expectations, lead the conversation the way he wanted to go.

  "I want to talk about if we have a future together," he said softly.

  Cornell's eyes widened in surprise before he caught himself. "What do you mean?" he asked, and Rhys couldn't fault him for being careful.

  "Look, we've moved from doing scenes together into what seems to be a more romantic relationship. Kissing, me pleasuring you, now you offering sex outside of the scene, that's not part of the D/s dynamic that we have."

  "Are you saying you don't want that?" Cornell asked, and the pain on his face was so stark it cut through Rhys's heart like a knife.

  "No! God, no, that's not what I'm saying at all," he said as quickly as he could, almost tripping over his own words. "I want that, but I want to make sure you're aware of what it means."

  "I don't understand," Cornell said. "You're not making any sense. What are you talking about, what it means?"

  Rhys was not sure if Cornell really didn't follow him or if he needed him to say the words. Whichever it was, he was fine with it. If they were to be in a relationship together, he would have to be the dominant partner. That much had always been clear.

  "Okay, I'll put my cards on the table. I want to be more than just your Dom in a few scenes here and there. I want to be your boyfriend. Because that's what we would be, if we keep going along this path. The kissing, having sex, that's a romantic relationship, which means we would be boyfriends. I need to know you understand that."

  Well, that answered his question whether or not Cornell had truly not followed, because the man's eyes grew big as saucers in his mouth dropped slightly open. "B-boyfriends?" he stammered.

  "Yes, boyfriends. You know, the common term used for two men in a romantic relationship."

  "But… But you’re twenty years younger than I am," Cornell brought up, and Rhys couldn't help but laugh.

  "If you're only realizing that now, we really need to have a talk."

  Cornell softly shook his head, as if to shake off something. "Of course I realized that. I just… When you said a romantic relationship…"

  He gave another helpless shrug. "I guess you hadn't put two and two together yet," Rhys said, his voice kind. "But the question is, do you have a problem with me as your boyfriend?"

  "Of course I don't," Cornell said immediately, and that was a sweet relief for Rhys. "I know this is going to sound incredibly stupid, but what we did so far, I thought it was more out of pity. Like, you did it because you felt sorry for me. That doesn't seem like a good start to more serious relationship… And it sounds like that's what you want?"

  Rhys took a deep breath. It was time to get a little more honest with Cornell. "Do you know when the first time was that I started to look at you differently?" he asked softly.

  Cornell shook his head.

  "It was when I was sixteen. You and Dad already knew I was gay, and I loved how you made me feel like that was completely normal. And then Mom and Dad went away on that last-ditch effort to save their marriage, which I didn't realize at the time, and I stayed with you for the weekend."

  Cornell's face lit up with recognition. "We went to the movies," he said. "I remember that."

  "You took me to a rom-com, because I told you I wanted to see it. And you weren't embarrassed about the fact that we were the only single men watching it, the only ones without a woman by our side. You showed me not to be scared of what other people thought, and I admired you for that."

  Cornell shrugged. "That's no big deal," he said. "You talked about wanting to see that movie for weeks, so I took you."

  "Did you know that during the romantic scenes, all I could think about was how good it would feel to hold your hand?" Rhys said. Cornell's eyes met his, and Rhys saw the confusion, followed by something else. "It was the first time I saw you as a man and not as my dad's best friend or some kind of uncle or something."

  "Rhys, that was years ago," Cornell whispered.

  Rhys smiled at him. "You're telling me. I've been intrigued by you for a long time now, and that has only grown more and deeper. I like you, Cornell. I like you far more than I can express. Trust me when I say that what I feel for you doesn't have anything to do with pity, not even remotely. And yes, I do want something more serious with you, but I'm willing to wait until you're ready for that."

  Cornell opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it. It took almost a full minute before he spoke again, his face deadly serious. "I never thought someone like you could be interested in someone like me," he finally said.

  Rhys shrugged. "You were wrong."

  Cornell blinked a few times. “You’ve liked me for years?” he asked, the disbelief heavy in his voice.

  The man had no idea. Even now, Rhys was still holding back, not showing Cornell the full depth of his feelings. He wasn’t ready for that, and if he were honest, neither was Rhys. Those feelings were so big, so scary, that he needed more time before facing them.

  “Yes,” he said simply. “I’ve seen you as a man since I was sixteen, and that has never gone away. This, what we’re doing now? I’ve dreamed of this.”

  Cornell studied him. "People will have an opinion on this, considering the age difference."

  Rhys waved with his hand. "I don't care much what people think, but yes, they will. And anyone who doesn't know us will assume you’re my silver daddy or something. Let them think whatever the hell they want. It doesn't bother me."

  "Your mother? Doesn't that bother you either?" Cornell asked.

  Rhys let out a long sigh. "As much as I would love to say it doesn't, we both know I would be lying. But she'll have to get over herself, because her opinion doesn't mean enough to me to value it over what we have."

  Cornell looked at him, his eyes narrowing. "You're really serious about this."

  "Yes," Rhys said calmly. "Which is why I’m willing to have this somewhat awkward conversation, because it matters too much to me to jump into it blindly and run the risk of us hurting each other. I've been dreaming of having sex with you for years, but damn if I'm going to jump the gun and hurt you because we haven't thought things through."

  "I feel like I'm back in high school, having a conversation with a guy about whether or not I want to be his boyfriend," Cornell said. "Not because of your age, but I have that same formal feeling, like you have to define something before you even know what it is."

  Rhys could understand where he was coming from, considering he had the same mix of trepidation and anxiety sitting in the pit of his stomach. "Maybe the question isn't what this between us is, but what we want it to be. That's why I started with asking you how you see the future between us. So let me ask you again, what do you want this thing between us to be? Are you content with only the D/s relationship, or do you want more?"

  Did Cornell realize he hadn't said anything about his feelings for Rhys yet? Rhys hadn't exactly given him a declaration of love, but at least he'd admitted to having liked him for years and being interested in him. Cornell hadn't said anything similar, so now Rhys was left to wonder if maybe he'd mis
interpreted things. Maybe Cornell was looking for something short-term and would never consider anything serious with someone so much younger.

  "I missed you today," Cornell said, and Rhys had to shift gears to follow where he was going. "I never expected that after having spent two weeks with you."

  "I missed you too," Rhys confessed. "I hated leaving you on your own today."

  "I hated being on my own. And that's coming from a man who has basically been by himself for years. And even before that, when I was still with Arnold, I was alone half the time, considering how much he traveled."

  Rhys had strong opinions about Asshole Arnold, but this was neither the time nor the place to share them. "I'm glad to hear you missed me too," he said softly. "That means you'll be happy to hear that I've given my notice."

  "You did?" Cornell asked, his voice full of shock. "But…why?"

  Rhys leaned forward and took both of Cornell's hands, kissing first the left, then the right. He looked him straight into his eyes as he spoke. "Cornell, sweetheart, I know you've been hurt and rejected before, and I get that. But this dance you're doing right now, avoiding answering me directly, this needs to stop. I need to know where you stand. I've told you how I feel about you and where I want this to go, but now it's your turn."

  Cornell bit his lip, his eyes never leaving Rhys’s as he saw him gather courage. "I have a hard time believing you want to be with me, but I know you wouldn't be so cruel as to lie to me about that. So I'm going to try my hardest to accept that you see something in me that I don't see myself. My feelings right now are a hot mess, what with grief and anger and frustration still mixed in. But I do know that you make me feel safe, you make me feel at home, you make me feel special and protected, and I want that. I want how you make me feel, and I want how I feel about you, which is so complex I can't even find the words. So I guess this is my convoluted, long-winded way of saying that yes, I want to be your boyfriend, as stupid as that word sounds at my age."