Chapter 2

 It's been three months now. I had hoped that time would soothe the pain but fuck! It still hurts like hell! Sometimes I find myself pausing while I'm working, trying to imagine what they looked like, those girls he fucked, and where he fucked them, what kind of things he did to them and if he came as hard as he does with me and I'm torn apart. I'm pretty sure he did them in his office because he had never had a lick of sense about that, right? I let the image fill my head until it hurts and I sigh and mutter under my breath, "fucking faithless bastard!" and Harry's throwing me a mocking glance because he more or less knows what's going on.

"Yeah, all right, boy… Mind your work!" I threaten him with a spanner and he laughs, this good natured laugh he gets from his father, but it's not funny. When I go back home, Toby's here. Or not. Sometimes he works late. I don't like that. I'm wary, I wonder where he is, sometimes call his office, sometimes drop there unexpectedly, at any time of the day, just to be sure, you know, and let him know I keep my eyes open. He looks at me wearily, rolls his eyes and I feel stupid. But still worry. No way I let anyone lay a finger on Toby and how crazy is that? I'm sick of this crap. One way or another, it has to end.

At least, we're sleeping together again and that's good but sometimes, too many times, like tonight, I wake up in the middle of the night. Toby's asleep and that's funny 'cause he used to be the sleepless one, before. So I get up, open the window to feel the breeze on my skin and listen to the town, the endless murmur from afar. Listen to the old voices calling me. Let them take me, caress me, stroke me… Let them tell me how easy it would be to take back my old life, just pack up and drive away. No boundaries, no limits and I feel like I'm a wolf turned into some half-tamed dog, I feel the leash around my neck and I want to howl and run free. I wanna be free again, I wanna stop hurting, I wanna hurt other people like I used to and I'm very close, really very close to leaving when I hear him behind me.


Fuck. "I woke you up."

"Mmm. Doesn't matter." He walks towards me, rests his hands on my shoulders. "Are you OK?" he asks. No. I'm not. But that's not what I say, of course. I turn in his arms, grab his ass. That's something I can do. Always, so he doesn't know what I'm going through.

"When did you stop sleeping naked?" I ask tersely and he snorts. "Take them off!" I pull down his boxers and he sighs against me and steps out of them. We're pressed against each other now, naked skin against naked skin, I can feel his chest rise and it's just what I need. I push him back to the bed and we fall onto it.

"When did things become so complicated?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I don't know."

I stroke him bluntly, my thumb brushing against the head of his dick and he moans.

"You're quite the slut, Beecher, you know that?"

"Only with you, Keller," and I stiffen, my throat tightening, my grip on him tightening. Wrong thing to say, Toby. Fucking liar. I feel anger simmer deep inside me and I squeeze his cock hard between my fingers, hear him catch his breath.

"Sometimes, you should just shut up," I snarl angrily. Three months and nothing has changed. He's been nice, all those weeks, though, sweet and compliant but...

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

"Yeah? I don't give a damn about how sorry you are."

There's a silence. After a while, he speaks again.

"Chris…" He hesitates but I won't help. "Chris, did you think of leaving?"

"I love you." Talk of a stupid answer!

"Even so, did you think of leaving?"

"Yes." I roll him on his back, pin him down to the mattress.

"Did you tonight?"

"Yeah!" I bite his neck, his shoulders, hard. I stroke him harder because I want him to lose control, I want him to give into me, once for all and stop fighting me, stop trying to escape from me the way he did some months ago.

"But… Oh Christ, please, wait…" He whimpers softly against my ear and that's good. "Why didn't you?"

I grind my cock against him like a rutting stag, groaning. C'mon baby, I need more tonight.

"Let's see… Kids, I guess?" I answer playfully and he kicks my leg with his foot. Crazy motherfucker. I squeeze him tighter. "Ok, Ok… I don't want anybody else in this bed. In your arms. In your life."

"I wouldn't replace you!" he protests, turning in my arms, his back against my chest. I push against him harder and now he's trapped, trapped between my dick and my hand, and that's where he belongs. That's where I intend to keep him until death do us part. I make my voice soft and low because I know that's what gets him off…

"Of course you would," I whisper as he thrusts helplessly in my hand, "you'd cry and cry again, go down deep into depression and then… replace me. That's why I don't leave." I enter him roughly and he bites his hands. Panting he still asks, "Do you love me Chris?" I thrust inside him leisurely, kissing, licking every part of him I can reach.

"Yeah, I do. It's just that, sometimes…" A hard thrust makes him shout. "Shhh, Toby, keep quiet… You don't want to wake anyone, do you?" Another thrust but this time he smothers his cry against my arm. "It's just that sometimes I don't like you very much, and I don't like myself at all."

Suddenly I have enough and I withdraw, making him groan out loud. "We've gotta end this!" I say tersely.

"Yeah come on, let's end this, please!"

"I'm not talking about sex, Toby. I'm talking about what happened 3 months ago." I can see he doesn't like that. He doesn't like that at all; he's very quiet now against me, worried.

"We must come to closure and move on, Beecher !"

"Ok, let's do that!"

He hasn't a clue what I'm talking about, and I know it's gonna be fun. Like before. As if he were someone else. "Do you trust me, Toby?" I ask, stretching, yawning. "Because this is the last chance I'll give you to get up and throw me out of your life."

"What are you talking about? Of course I trust you," he gives me a puzzled look, well, a bit worried, too, because he knows me well enough to guess there's more to come, "and I don't want you to leave, anyway. You're not going anywhere, Keller."

Yeah? We'll see about that, Beecher and I have a pretty good idea of how I'm gonna make up my mind about him trusting me. It might be just what I need, and I shiver in sweet anticipation, kiss him hard.

"Ok. Ok, so you just lie there and don't move. Just don't move, don't talk, don't beg and take whatever I give you." I push his arm away from his face and catch his gaze "Will you do that for me?"

"Yes." It's barely a whisper and I raise a sceptical eyebrow. "Louder!"

"Yes, I will. Please, just do it, and stop playing this game!"

Ok, time to play, now. I push him on his side and stroke him thoroughly. My fingers trail on his back, his ass, his thighs, his nipples, purposely avoiding his cock. I open the drawer, retrieve the lube, coat my whole hand and my wrist with it and watch him hold his breath, his eyes following every move warily.

He moans softly when I snake one finger inside him, slowly coming back and forth, adding a second, then a third finger. I feel him stiffen. "What do you intend to do to me?" His voice is shaky and I've forgotten how good it feels to hold someone down this way, feeling him about to freak out just like the others did, long ago. I could lose my mind right now, but it's Toby, so I know I won't. But just thinking about it makes me rock hard.

"Do you trust me or not?" I add a fourth finger and fuck him nice and slow, stretching him.


"Fine, so just let go." I kiss his neck softly, breathing against his skin, licking the sweat there. "Let go, Toby," I stroke his cock with my free hand, his nipples again and again until he lies limp against me, panting, my teeth on his bared skin. When I add my thumb he hisses, "No! Not this please! I can't take it!" but I won't stop now because I've gone too far already and it's too good, so I put my hand on his mouth.

"No moving, no yelling, remember? Just relax and let me do it. You'll be fine." He tries to struggle… Bad idea "Ok, Beecher , listen to me. I'm gonna count to ten and take my hand off your mouth. If you say no, I'll just stop. And leave. I will, I swear. I don't need the sex tonight Toby, I don't even need the love, I want your trust. I want unconditional trust, I want all the doubts and the fear to go away, I want you to be sure that I won't harm you, not now, never, that I won't break your neck when I'm done," he's panting hard, I don't move my hand inside him yet because I want him to get used to the sensation, "Toby, do you understand what I'm saying?" He nods, so I count, "one, two, three," and his body surrenders under mine, he rubs his face against my arm, "ten!" He arches his back and moans loudly when I move my hand inside him. "You need this, Toby, I can feel it… Come on, touch yourself!" He obeys and I close my fist slowly inside him as he strokes himself harder.

"Stop! Stop that!" I growl, "I'll finish you." And I take his hand away, kiss his neck and begin to push and pull back softly. I feel him stiffen and shake, I'm sure he's going to pass out and I talk to him, nuzzling his neck. "C'mon Toby, don't… Stay with me, listen, it's fine, you're gonna be just fine…" I close my fingers around his cock, stroke softly, feel him come back to me again, and keep talking. "It's OK, Toby, you're doing just fine, I like it, c'mon you can do it, you can take it, just hold still, don't move, everything's gonna be OK." I'm talking to him softly, I'm good at that, I did it so many times before with others and I repeat the same words again and again until he thrusts in my hand, moaning.

"Yeah, do it again, Toby. Do it!" He obeys with a growl, losing control, "again…" And it goes on and on, he thrusts in my hand, I punch inside him softly until I feel him go crazy with need, thrust back harder to meet my fist, and I have to be careful not to hurt him, but soon he climaxes in my hand, on the sheets, shaking, biting my arm and it's good, it's fucking good and I don't care if I'm still hard because I've got plenty of time now, I think as I hold him as tight as I can, swallowing his screams, licking his tears and when it's over I withdraw my hand slowly and lie on top of him, pressing him down to the mattress, feeling his heartbeat slow down and his body relax under mine.

"Was that the closure you were talking about?" He asks after a while, still shocked.

"Maybe. Now, go to sleep."


We sleep until dawn. Then he stretches in my arms and winces.

"Fuck!" he hisses, "it hurts! Tell me why I let you do that?"

I smile and say nothing.

"Don't ever do that again, Keller. Never! Hear me?"

I give him a mocking smile. "You didn't like it, Beecher ? From what I could see, you seemed to like it a lot, you know."

"Fuck off, you bastard! I'm too old…"

I cut him short. There we are. "You're not too old to fuck all the girls in your office, so you're not too old for the rest either." I frown "Now, say it!"

He looks at me, dishevelled and stunned. "Say what?"

"Tell me you liked it! I wanna hear you say it!"

"Ok. I did like it. Does that make you happy, Keller?" I nod and he continues, "But I'm not going to let you do it to me again. Believe me!"

"Ok. No girls, no fisting."

"That's blackmail, Keller!" he snarls.

"Yeah, one of my strong suit, I guess."

"There's nothing to be jealous about, anyway."

I watch him closely. "I think you're not the one to judge this, Beecher ." I whisper, "I am."

We watch each other for a while, and I can see from his look that he's a bit lost, so I stretch, push the sheets away from my body, baring myself and turn my head to watch the early morning sun shyly creeping on the floor, on the sheets… I feel better now.

"Wanna fuck me, Toby?" His mouth drops open, he doesn't move.


"Do… you… want… to… fuck… me?" I repeat slowly. He smiles tentatively. I said I wanted closure, that's what I meant. "Now?" he asks.

"Well, now's fine by me, but if you've got something better to do…"

"I don't think so," he snorts, and I see his eyes are shining with tears because he's been expecting that for the last 3 months. He knows the punishment's over. And he knows it's over because I want it to be over.

"I don't know if I remember how to do it!" he whispers teasingly, kissing me hard, taking a good look at my body. Look as long as you want, Toby, I'm not going anywhere. "It's like swimming, Beecher , you don't forget."

He chuckles and pounces on me, sucking me, fucking me and I moan under his body because it feels so right, and I know we made it so I'm ready to take it as hard as he wants, but he doesn't want it hard, he wants it slow and sweaty, he wants to hear me beg and growl, and maybe he's tired and sore from the fisting but he makes it last long enough for that. When I come in his hand he lets out a triumphant groan and we sag against each other as he comes inside me. Then we roll on the bed, holding each other, kissing, laughing and it's fucking wonderful because we've been tiptoeing around each other for so long, cautiously, carefully, aware of demons. Now it's like being alive again, happy again. Together again.

"Hey!" A loud bang on the doors startles us both, we hear an angry voice. Harry. "You two… Keep it low, OK? Some people are trying to get some sleep here! Motherfuckers!"

I laugh, throw a shoe against the door. "No names, Harry Beecher! Or I swear I'll make you work like a slave all day long!"

"I already work like a slave, Keller, that's why I wanna sleep. It's barely 6, shit!"

"Ok!" Toby's voice's tired but calm. "Go back to your room, Harry. We need some sleep too."

"I'll bet you do!" Harry grumbles and walks away.

"Nice guy we've raised there!" Toby stretches against me like a cat. Christ, and I'm supposed to be the sex machine, here?

"Yeah. Whines a lot, though. Just like his father."

He falls on me, crushing me under his weight. "More," he asks, "Give me more!" And I do, fuck, we both do because it's the only way we can deal with each other. Words don't work, but sex does, sex works just fine.


Later, as I'm about to leave for work, he watches me dress and asks, "Call in sick, Chris! Just for today. Harry can run the garage on his own. Please?"

I put on a shirt, turn to watch him. "Call in sick? C'mon, I'm my own boss, Toby!" I chuckle. "You're shameless, you know! You'd let your 17 year old son run the place just to keep me in your bed?"

"Our bed, Keller. And I'm not shameless, I love you."

I sit on the bed next to him.

"I'll be back early," I promise, nuzzling my face against his neck, smelling him.

"You'd better be!"

"Why? You'd fuck someone else, otherwise?" I ask, frowning.

"Do you want to start another fight?" he growls.

No. Christ, no, I don't want any more fights; I don't wanna go through this hell again. I put on the socks he gave me for Christmas. "No, thanks, I've had enough." And suddenly all the happiness vanishes as I take a look around, remembering how I beat him in this room, how relentless and crazy I got then. And how he let me do it, feeling he deserved it. "No more fights, Toby. Never…" Shit, my voice's trembling. "I lost it completely, I could've killed you." Suddenly the realization crushes me. I could've killed him, I nearly did. I'm shaking and he draws me to him, hugs me, holds me, and cradles me in his arms as I cling to him like a drowning man.

"It's OK, Chris, it's ok. It's over."

I hate that. I hate being caught like that, weak and helpless but he doesn't let go, he waits for me to pull myself together again and push him back softly, my hands on his shoulders. He's still naked and I'm not sure anymore I really want to go but I hear Harry's voice downstairs.

"Keller! We're late!"

Yeah. I push him away, I smile, he smiles, we look at each other for a while. Christ, I love him so much.

"I'll be back early."

"And I'll be waiting for you," he says.

Harry's sitting on the stairs, waiting for me. Dirty dreadlocks, rags… I sigh. Back to the real world.

"It's about time, Keller!" He says, standing up.

"Your father calls me Keller," I retort, "but to you I'm Chris. Or boss. You choose."

"Yeah… Control freak, huh? Think you run the place?"

I watch him, stubborn blue gaze, upturned nose, so young and yet so tough. Could be my own son, no doubt about that.

"You'd better get inside this car and drive us to work, Harry."

He obeys, muttering under his breath.

"What?" I ask.

"I want to leave home."

"We talked about that. We agreed," I snarl. I'm not in the mood.

"We didn't agree." he snaps back. "You just didn't listen to me, as usual."

Fuck, how many times are we going to have this conversation?

"You won't leave this house until I'm sure you're clean. No more drugs, no more alcohol, nothing."

"I've been clean for the past 8 months. Isn't that enough?"

"No! You're not 17 yet…"

"I will be in 2 months!"

"Yeah? Well, so you're still 16 until September, boy, and you'll wait until you're 18. Then you can leave."

He watches me steadily. "Why? I'll go on working with you… Actually, I don't even need to work! I can have my mother's money, it's mine! That's enough to live on!"

"No," I sigh. "You won't have a single buck before you're 18 and meanwhile, you'll stay put."

He brakes too quickly because he didn't see the light turn red. "Go on!" I shrug. "Kill us both!"

"You're not my dad. You don't give me any fucking orders, OK? Boss?" He emphasizes the last word, making it sound scornful and angry. I won't play by his rules so I keep silent. He knows better than that. He knows I'm the one in charge when it comes to him, Toby gave up on him long ago, thinks that I'll do better with this kid. When we arrive at the garage, he parks the car, slams his hands against the driving wheel with a frustrated growl. I keep quiet, no need to taunt him any further.

"You're fucking tough, you know that?" he sighs and watch me with a weary smile. Tired of fighting. Until next time.

"Yes. Let's get to work, now. We've got a lot to catch up and I promised Fred he'd have his bike tonight, so, boy, hurry!"

He opens the door, walks inside, still badly pissed off and it makes me smile. I love Harry. He would be a beautiful young man if he'd give up this terrible look he's got going. Rags, dreadlocks and all that. But at least he's off the drugs, and he talks again, eats again, washes again, and got back some sense of decency –that's what Toby calls it, and it's funny, 'cause I don't remember him having much of that the first time I met him, in the basement of Fred's house.

"What do you mean, no sense of decency?"

"I remember you being drunk and stoned and flirting with me outrageously."

Toby thinks about it and frowns. He's sitting at his desk, dressed in khakis and the black polo I love, watching me, playing with his pen. I came back home early as promised and he was working. I watched him for a while and now I'm bored. I want him to talk to me.

"I was stoned, OK, but not really drunk. You, on the other hand, were about to steal Fred's bike. You never told me why, did you?"

I laugh. "You never asked. I needed a bike to go cruising for a nice piece of ass to fuck but instead of that I found you," I explain, "and the bike was beautiful, I remember it, it was a Taurus, one of these impressive things which works great with needy guys, they all wanna get fucked right there on the bike."

I know what he's thinking about. "You were so needy, Toby. I could see it. Remember what you said?"

He winces and I go on. "You said 'If you wanna steal the bike, go on, Fred's upstairs, stoned as hell.' And then you went pale and sat down. I kissed you."



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