Drawing Closer (13 page)

Gray wailed, yanked hard enough on the ties that the bed creaked, and came, splattering his

stomach and chest, his cock jerking and his hips lifting up, fucking nothing because Charles had

moved back and wasn't touching him.

Which was, in fact, Gray's real punishment for not lasting the full minute.

Drawing Closer - 78

Gray collapsed back, panting, his eyes squeezed closed. Charles gave him a moment and then

cleared his throat.

"Sorry," Gray said, disarming him completely. "Fuck, I'm just -- sorry, okay?"

Blue eyes opened and stared at him appealingly.

Charles smiled, reaching out to pat Gray's arm. "Don't be. You lasted longer than I expected."

"I did?" Gray sounded doubtful.

"Mmm." Charles ran his finger through a streak of come on Gray's belly without really thinking about it, and looked up to find Gray watching him. "What?"

"Are you -- do you want me to--?"

"What?" Charles followed Gray's gaze to his wet finger and laughed. "Lick it clean? No. It's your come; I imagine you know what it tastes like."

For some reason that, of all that had happened to him, made Gray blush. "Not really."

"Oh." Charles scooped up a little more on the end of his finger and sucked it off. "Tastes like come," he said thoughtfully and got a snort of laughter from Gray and a playful nudge of a knee.

"Going to untie me?"

Charles reached up and did just that, feeling mild regret as Gray curled up into a ball, flexing stiff

muscles and rubbing at his wrists, already showing marks.

"Going to get yourself over my knee?"

"What?"

Charles moved around, sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet flat against the floor, and glanced

back at Gray. "I told you what would happen."

"I didn't think you meant it!" Gray protested.

"And yet the thought of it was enough to make you come without being touched." Charles

crooked his finger. "Come here, or go to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Your choice, but if it's

the latter, I expect you to be prepared to leave without arguing, is that understood?"

"Look, Charles--"

Drawing Closer - 79

"Don't make me count to three, or something equally ridiculous," Charles said with a sigh.

Gray bit his lip and crawled off the bed, standing in front of Charles. "I -- God, I feel like a

fucking idiot!"

"You look like an indecisive idiot to me," Charles said coolly, reaching for his robe again and slipping it on. He was hard enough to be finding it difficult to concentrate, his body clamoring for

release.

"Hey!"

"I'm not going to make this easy for you," Charles told him, knowing that in a way he was, just by saying that and getting the game started again. "You'll put yourself across my knee, and you'll

be the one asking me to do it."

"Do what?" There was a trace of defiance in Gray's voice now.

"Spank you, Gray. For failing." Charles spaced the words out, watching Gray swallow, watching

his half-hard cock twitch and start to fill again.

"How... how many..."

"That's a good question. We can discuss that when you're in position."

Gray shifted his feet, a deep flush scalding his face, his breath shaky. "I -- oh, fuck, Charles--"

Just as Charles was about to stand up and end it, Gray scrubbed hard at his face and sat down

beside him, giving him a swift, almost hopeless look, before draping himself awkwardly over

Charles' lap.

The weight of him was unexpected and oddly comforting. Been a long time...

Carefully, not rushing, Charles adjusted the way that Gray was lying, making sure that he was

comfortable, spreading his knees apart a little so that Gray's cock wasn't trapped in the folds of

Charles' robe.

"You wanted to know how many."

Gray gave a stifled sound that might have been anything and Charles placed the flat of his hand

lightly across the small of Gray's back. "Five, I think, as that's about how many seconds you had

left."

"You can't know that."

Drawing Closer - 80

Unseen, Charles rolled his eyes, a grin on his face. God, Gray would come back from the dead to

argue with him.

"I can. I was counting. Five." He waited and then added, "Gray?"

"Five. Right." Relaxing now that he was talking again, Gray wriggled a little, settling himself into position, his hands flat against the floor, and took a deep breath. Charles smoothed his hand over

Gray's backside, feeling the muscles clench instinctively, and then lifted his hand and brought it

down hard.

Five was nothing. He wasn't going to hold back for five, and he wasn't going to renege on his

promise. Gray was going to see what he could expect if he stuck around, and Charles, staring

down at the fading flush of scarlet his hand had left, Gray's whimper resonating in his ears,

couldn't imagine not doing this again if he had the chance.

So damn responsive... It wasn't that Gray couldn't have kept a stony silence if he'd wanted;

certainly once he knew what to expect, the four smacks that followed weren't painful enough to

make silence impossible. No, he just didn't care that Charles knew how he felt, and hoarse, open-

mouthed gasps followed each slap, blending with the flat crack of Charles' hand.

Charles gave him the last one and put his hand over the rough, hot skin, feeling the shift of

tensing muscle.

"Ch-Charles?"

"Yes?"

"More?"

Charles stared at the wall opposite, his hand already rising.

Drawing Closer - 81

It was too easy to forget around Carl. Gray froze, half in, half out of his clean jeans, his bare ass

on display, held in place by the angry hiss of Carl's breath.

"What the
fuck
?"

Settling his T-shirt in place, and kicking the paint-spattered jeans aside, Gray turned and met

Carl's gaze. "Don't."

"Don't
what
? Don't comment on those marks on your ass? Yeah, let's think about how much

that's never gonna happen."

Gray reached for a paintbrush, twirling it between his fingers, trying to focus on the way the

bristles overlapped. Might be cool to paint them from memory, using the brush itself, detailed

enough that they wouldn't look like anything at first, the subtle stains of old paint glowing –

"Hey!" Carl's fist drove into his shoulder, jolting him out of his introspection. "Don't do that.

Don't shut me out."

Rubbing slowly at his shoulder, Gray gave him a pointed look. "I asked for the marks; that bruise

you just put on me, I could've done without. I paint with that arm, you know."

"Asked for them?" Carl's mouth thinned. "Oh, yeah, I can just see that."

Gray didn't answer him.

"He comes near you again, and I'm going to rip his fucking arms off."

"How old are you? Twelve?" Gray shook his head. "We're... playing, that's all."

“Playing? Do you know how many bruises you've got?"

Yes. Charles had counted them, pressing cool fingers against each one, counting slowly as Gray

writhed under him, speared on Charles' cock.

"They'll fade."

Drawing Closer - 82

"Oh, yeah, they will. And what then?"

He'd beg Charles to put some more on him.

"Carl -- I -- look, this is none of your business."

"Yes, it--"

"
No
." Gray spoke over Carl's words, knowing what they'd be. Hell, he could predict Carl's response to just about any situation, he knew him so well. "This is my sex life, Carl. Mine."

"And his."

There was a pause and then Gray nodded. "And his, yes."

"In fact," Carl went on, "it's all his, right? His fucked-up kinky shit and you're going along with it because you're fixated on him, just like you were with that girl with the hair down to her ass who

wouldn't even speak to you."

"No. It's not like that."

"Yeah? Then how come you've never done this before? With anyone? And don't tell me you

have, because I'd have known."

"Because I didn't know! Until I met him, I just -- I never -- fuck, Carl, this is just so not what I want to be discussing with you, okay? Back off."

"Maybe I should be discussing it, then." Carl's mouth was thin, tight. "With the Dean. With the
police
."

Gray reacted without thought, lashing out with his hand and feeling the painful jar of bone as his

knuckles split on Carl's teeth. "
Fuck
--"

"You--" Carl swiped blood and spit from his lips and lunged at him.

They struggled, swaying back and forth for a minute, no more, spitting insults at each other,

snarling out threats, hands and feet dealing out blows and kicks. Gray didn't feel any of them,

although Carl didn't seem to be holding back at all. Terror and rage were insulating him from the

pain and giving him strength.

It couldn't last; Carl was angry, too.

Gray felt himself fall backward and a moment later Carl landed on him, his fist pulling up and

back.

Drawing Closer - 83

It was going to hurt.

Gray turned his head aside, less to avoid the blow than because he couldn't bear to see the look

on Carl's face, hurt and bewilderment washing over it.

Not the first time they'd fought. Not the first time they'd bloodied each other, either. Just the

first time they'd really meant it.

"You piece of shit." Carl's weight left him as Carl stood, stepping back. "You're not worth it. You want him? Have him. And when he leaves you crying, go to someone else for sympathy, because

you know what? I'm done being there for you."

"Why?" Gray swallowed sour spit, feeling his gut twist. "Why now? Because I get my kicks a way you don't? There has to be more to it than that."

"No, there doesn't."

Gray hauled himself up, waiting automatically for Carl's hand to bring him to his feet and not

getting it. A day of firsts. "Uh-huh. Does."

"Fuck you."

"You want to?" Gray smiled at him, a thin, challenging smile, all taunt. "Is that it? Jealous because he gets to do what he wants with me? Because I've found someone and you're still

fucking sluts who'll screw anyone who buys them a drink?"

Carl was shaking his head, a flush rising in his face. Gray was still waiting to be punched. He was

crossing lines here.

"Man, you really are an asshole." Carl's voice was quiet, contemplative, even though he was

shaking. "I see you hurt, and I care, and you turn it into me being a loser. Way to go, Gray. Way

to fucking go."

"You -- I'm sorry. Okay? Carl? I'm sorry. You just -- you can't threaten him and expect me not to

freak. I'd be the same if it was you."

"No, you wouldn't."

"Yes, I
would
," Gray insisted. "Carl – I love you. Okay? I do. I love you. Don't do this to me."

Carl rolled his eyes. "Self-centered asshole."

"Yeah, so what's new?" Gray demanded. "That's me, always has been, and you've never cared
Drawing Closer - 84

before."

"Never came close to losing you before."

"You haven't." Gray stepped closer. "Look, punch me if it'll make you feel better, but just --

stay, will you?"

Carl's eyes filled with tears Gray knew wouldn't fall. "You want more bruises, you go to your

freak of a fucking boyfriend."

"He doesn't hit me," Gray said softly. "Not like that."

"I don't want to know."

"I don't want to tell you."

"Well, good." Carl looked around helplessly. "Gray--"

"Right here," Gray said, hugging him and feeling Carl's arms go around him. "Right here, you jerk."

***

coffee as he fished out the key Gray had given him. The apartment was silent and dark and he

glanced around, a little surprised that Gray, who loved the sunlight, hadn't bothered to pull back

the curtains before leaving.

Unless he was still in bed? It was almost eleven, but--

He set the coffee down and walked across the room to the bedroom door, blankly closed. It

swung open and he saw Carl, naked, framed against the deeper dark of the bedroom, his eyes

unfriendly.

There was a moment, just a moment, when he felt the hurt of betrayal stab at him, fierce and

cold, but it passed. He knew Gray. He trusted Gray.

And he knew Carl better than the young man probably realized.

"Good morning," Charles said. "I'm sorry; if I'd known you'd be here, I'd have brought three coffees."

"I'm here a lot."

Drawing Closer - 85

"I know."

"Don't know
everything
." There was a sneer working its way across Carl's face, distorting his good looks and making him look older. "Or don't you mind sharing him?"

One step closer. Two. Charles let his gaze drift over the body Carl was showing him. Well-built,

solid muscles, a totally uninterested dick. He noted the flinch Carl gave, the involuntary shift

back, and smiled a little. Impossible to picture him with Gray.

"I do mind. Or rather, I would. As the situation doesn't arise--"

"I nailed him last night," Carl insisted. "And I didn't have to fucking hurt him to get hard, either."

Charles paused. Gray really did have a problem with discretion, but for all his concern about that,

he found himself feeling a pang of pity for Carl. "No, you didn't." He walked to Carl and glanced up at him. "I've never done anything to your friend that he hasn't asked for."

Or begged for, voice thick and hoarse with longing, eyes blazing bright...

"Until you came along he didn't
want
shit like that!"