Stephen (BOY: ISO Book 1)
Page 5
“Oh. I didn’t even think…” Stephen blushed dark.
“What? You had no idea—after all, I used an Uber to get your place and we took a taxi back here. How were you to know?” Stephen had to stop taking the weight of the world on his shoulders. Everything was not his boy’s fault.
Hell, most things were not his fault. Champ was pretty sure that convincing his boy of this was going to be the trick. He was the man for the job though.
He was more than that even.
Chapter Six
Stephen felt like the whole world had changed since he answered the knock on his door this morning.
Champ had a huge black SUV, and they had picked up the others and gone down to the garage level. Wow.
He had to climb up into it, and as they pulled out into the street, it felt like he was a whole extra car level above everything else. Even as big as Champ, Berny, and France were, none of them looked particularly large sitting in this vehicle.
Champ pointed to the console between the driver and passenger seats. “Plug in the address and we’ll get directions for the best route.”
“For the store, yes? Or the apartment?”
“Let’s get your stuff first. That way you don’t have to deal with Marc more than we need to.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea. We’d like to see where Marc lives.”
Champ looked to Stephen. “Is that okay with you? That we all come up to the apartment?”
“Sure. No one will take anything.” What did they have that these men needed to take?
“No, of course no one would. I just want you to be comfortable having strangers in your home.” Champ slid his hand across Stephen’s thigh and squeezed gently.
“It won’t take long. I’ll grab a few things.”
“You grab as much as you want or feel you’ll need. As much as you want. There’s lots of room in the car.”
“Thank you. I just…” He shook his head, not sure what he wanted to say.
“Just what, boy? And we can’t go anywhere until you put the address in the system—or I could look it up as I had it for the driver when I came to get you.”
“Sorry. Sorry.” He put the address in and hit go. “I was just trying to think.”
“Do I make it hard to do that?” Champ asked, lips pulling up at the ends.
“Yes. Yes, you so do.”
“I don’t mind that at all. I like being distracting. I like that you can’t think of other stuff when you’re with me.” Champ pulled out into the street, following the directions.
He was thinking perverse things. Needy things. Hungry things. Things that he couldn’t think about someone he just met.
“Did it just get steamy in here?” Champ asked.
“It did.” France chuckled. “Your boy is being naughty.”
“Not being. Thinking about being.” Champ turned to him and grinned. “I want to fulfill all your fantasies. Especially your most wicked ones.”
“I—I’m not…I mean…” How could Champ know?
“Shh. It’s okay, boy. Daddy understands.”
“I’m sorry.” He didn’t. He didn’t understand at all.
Champ took his hand and squeezed. “No apologies necessary.”
“No? Thank you. I’m very…worried.” He didn’t want to fight with Marc. He didn’t want to figure out what to do again.
“Everything is going to work out. And I’ve got your back.”
“And your front, and all the bits.” Berny laughed, France joining in.
Champ rolled his eyes. “Ignore them.”
“Have you been friends long?”
“Oh, yes, forever.” Champ looked into the rearview mirror, smiling fondly.
“Eons. Maybe longer.” France laughed.
Berny and France were so jolly, happy. It was hard to imagine them as the strict Daddies Marc seemed so determined to get.
“Don’t misjudge them. They can be quite stern, when the need is there.”
“I—” Wait. What?
“Almost there,” Champ noted, turning onto Flint Street. “Should we park on the street or is there a garage?”
“There’s a parking spot for us, and Marc’s at work, so park in the one marked 8A.” Marc had an ancient sedan, but it worked and it came in handy.
Champ followed his directions, pulling the huge SUV into his spot. It dwarfed the cars around it.
“Come on up.” He climbed down from the car and led the men up to the apartment. It was tiny but clean and in a decent area. When they got inside, it looked even smaller. It never seemed too tiny with him and Marc, but Champ, Berny, and France were huge and dwarfed the entire place.
“Where’s Marc’s room?” Berny asked.
“Through there…” He looked up to Champ. “It’s okay?”
“They won’t break or take anything. It might give them a little insight into Marc. Now, can I help you gather your things?”
“Please. Come on in.” He went to his room and gathered his laptop, his phone charger, and some clothes. His room was full of fabric and yarn, design boards and inspiration.
Champ took it all in, moving around to examine everything closely. “I have a couple of rooms on my second floor that could be turned into one large room that would be ideal for a studio.”
“Oh? I’ve always, always wanted a private studio. Seriously. One day, I’ll be able to have one.” He beamed and grabbed his toiletry bag. “I can’t wait to show you the studio at school.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing it. Do you have any of the things you’ve made here so you can show me?”
“I do! All the wall hangings are my work. And all this yarn, this fabric…” He started talking, showing off the pieces hanging around the room. “You can have one, if you’d like. Or more.”
Champ looked and touched, making happy noises. “It’s all so amazing. Would you choose something to give me?”
He frowned and looked around, but then his attention landed on his best piece—the browns and blues matching Champ’s eyes and the mark on his hip. “This one. It’s my favorite.”
“Oh, I’m honored.” Champ slid his fingers along the stitching, the pattern of the dragon there. “Your soul already knows me, Stephen.”
“It reminds me of you. Do you like it?” Please say yes. Please.
“I love it and will treasure it always.” Champ pulled him in close and gave him a kiss, lips soft and warm, lingering against his.
Stephen sighed, one hand on Champ’s chest. Oh. Oh, he wanted to go to Champ’s and offer himself, body and soul.
When Champ ended the kiss, he rested their foreheads together. “Let’s collect the rest of your stuff so we can get the guys to Marc’s work and then home.”
“What else do you want me to bring?”
“You have all your electronics, your clothing, and any projects you’re currently working on?” At his nod, Champ continued. “Then unless there’s anything else you want or need, we’re good to go.”
“No, let’s go. I want to have our few days together.” He wanted to relax and play with Champ.
“I can’t wait to get you home and shut the rest of the world out. Explore, play, enjoy each other.” Champ picked up his suitcase and the bag of stuff that didn’t fit, along with his project bag, leaving him with his bag of electronics. “Come on, guys—time to go meet your bad boy.”
They came out with some dog-eared books, a journal, and a pair of wicked smiles. “We can’t wait.”
Oh dear.
Champ chuckled. “I think your friend Marc is about to get exactly what he needs, if not what he wants.”
“Indeed.” Berny nudged France, who nudged him back.
“I—I hope he does. Gets what he needs. So much.”
“You’re a good friend.” Champ led the way back to the car, carrying all his stuff with ease. Before he knew it, they were back on the road, the address for the store Marc worked at plugged into the console.
“Are we there yet?” Fran
ce asked.
Champ half laughed, half snorted. “Don’t get me started.”
“You’ve already gotten started, you ass.” Berny snorted and kissed France, hard.
There was electricity coming from the back, a feeling of anticipation and excitement that was palpable.
“You’ll meet your boy soon enough.” Champ slowed down as they got close to The Papery, gaze darting from side to side, no doubt looking for somewhere to park his behemoth of a vehicle.
“There’s a spot just past the store, Champ. Does that look good?”
“Yeah, that should do.” Champ pulled into the spot like a pro. “I know the guys are ready, but what about you? You ready for whatever Marc is planning to throw at you?”
“No, but I suppose that’s normal, isn’t it?” He sighed. “No one likes to have a friend angry with them.”
“No, they don’t.” Champ took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “But I’ve got your back.”
“Thank you. Let’s do this. I see Marc locking up.” Marc was taller than him, narrower, with a shock of black hair and icy green eyes.
“Oh, he’s pretty.”
“Yes, he looks good enough to eat.”
If Marc didn’t eat them first. Stephen could see the smoke coming from Marc’s ears.
Berny and France were out of the SUV in a flash, headed right for Marc.
“Uh-oh.” He looked at Champ, then launched himself out of the car. “Hey, Marc! I have someone for you to meet!”
Marc looked at him, sneering. “Fuck off, assmunch.”
“Oh, no. That’s not how our boy talks.” Berny pulled himself up and looked twice as huge as he had before. “What’s your safeword, boy?”
Champ came up to Stephen and put a hand on his back. “It’s okay. They’ve got this.”
“I’m not done yelling at you, you fucking bitch!”
Stephen opened his mouth to retort, but Champ’s hand just kept him moving.
“You’re not going to sit for a month, boy. You’d better give me your safeword before I decide to start teaching you some manners without bothering with one.” Berny sounded so stern—calm but serious as fuck.
Champ moved him back toward the SUV. “He doesn’t want a proper introduction, that’s fine. You don’t need to take that kind of abuse from him.”
“I didn’t mean any…I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.” They couldn’t hear the others anymore.
“I’m not sure you did. I think Marc is simply not happy and he’s lashing out. It’ll get him what he needs.”
“I just…I feel bad.” Not bad enough to walk away and go back to Marc though.
Champ stopped and turned them. “Look. Berny and France have him. He’s going to be just fine. And we’ll call the guys tomorrow morning and let you check in.”
“Okay. Just— They’re good guys, Marc!” he called out. “Let them try!”
“And you’re a very good man, Stephen.” Champ gave him a side-hug, then opened the door to the SUV for him.
“Thank you, Sir.” Stephen dared to steal a gentle little kiss.
“Mmm. You’re so welcome, boy.” Champ’s hand slid along his leg, and then the car door was closed and Champ walked around the vehicle.
Marc argued with France and Berny, the whole situation so goddamn weird.
Champ climbed in and sat on the driver’s seat. “You want to wait?”
“You trust them, right?”
“I do. They will give your friend what he needs. It’s a good pairing.”
“Then let’s go. Let’s go and we’ll see them tomorrow?” He wanted to go to Champ’s and… well, what he wanted, he wasn’t going to do, but they could have fun.
“Works for me.” Champ turned the engine on and just like that they were on their way.
God, he hoped he wasn’t the worst friend ever.
“Are you letting it go?” Champ asked as they headed back to his place.
“I’m trying, Sir. I swear.”
“I’ll help you forget even your own name once we get home.”
“Please. God, yes. Please.”
“You mean please Daddy yes.” Champ glanced over at him and gave him a wink.
He chuckled, his cheeks burning. “I want to call you that. I hope I’ll be able to.”
“That’s what I want too.”
The traffic was light, and he could see that they were nearly home—back. They were nearly back at Champ’s.
“I’m—” He found himself close to tears, utterly overwhelmed. He’d experienced more in the last twelve hours…
“You’re what, boy?” Champ pulled the SUV into the garage.
“Nothing. Nothing, Sir. It’s just been a big day.”
“It has. And it’s not over yet.”
He nodded and blinked the tears away. Champ leaned over and kissed the side of his eye. Then rubbed their noses together.
“I’m not sad, Sir. I swear.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Let’s go upstairs and turn this evening around.”
He nodded and tried to smile, but he felt like he was totally, completely out of his league.
Champ’s arm came around his shoulders, and somehow, there was a perfect spot for him tucked up next to the man. “Are you sure you’re all right, boy?”
“I’m a little wigged. I should grab my stuff, huh?”
“Oh, right. We should definitely get your stuff. Sorry—you’re a distraction. And you’re allowed to be wigged as long as I’m allowed to help you become un-wigged.” Champ grabbed his suitcase and let him take his electronics.
“I like the idea of—”
“I’m going to beat your ass, Steve!”
Champ held on tight to his shoulders. “Let it go, boy. He’s home now.”
Champ led him into the elevator and the door closed before he had to respond or see Marc.
“He’s very unhappy and he doesn’t know how to express it. I’m glad you answered the door.” Champ kissed the top of his head.
“You are? I’m not…Marc and I are very very different men.”
“You are. And while the thought of a bad boy seemed exciting, from what I can see, the reality is much different. And of course, there’s your glow.”
“He’s not bad. He just needs to be loved.” So did he, he guessed.
“You’re a good friend. Now let’s leave Marc behind. This evening is about us.”
“Right. Yes. It is. I’m sorry, Sir.” Jesus. Focus. You’re already a fuckup.
“You don’t have to apologize about caring for your friend. I’d just like to focus on you because there is nothing you or I can do for him but leave him to his Daddies.” Champ led him off the elevator and back into the lovely apartment. “Do you want to unpack or just leave everything by the door and jump each other’s bones?”
He didn’t see any reason to unpack. He could live out of his bags until Tuesday. “Let’s just jump each other’s bones.”
Champ’s smile lit up his face. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Then Champ pounced, grabbing him up into strong arms.
He laughed, the joy of being with Champ just overwhelming and wonderful.
Champ brought him into a new room, this one with a fireplace and a huge couch with big, fluffy cushions. That’s where they went, Champ flopping down onto the couch, still holding him.
“Oh, this is lovely.” Soft and comfortable and inviting.
“Yeah. We can get lost right here in each other.” Champ slid a hand behind his head and tugged him in, closing their lips together. The big body cradled his, Champ’s chest the best mattress ever.
He exhaled, opening to Champ and letting the big man in, letting Champ hold him.
Champ took time with this kiss, tongue sliding through his mouth and exploring him. It wasn’t all rush and wham bam. Care was taken despite the very hard cock pressing into his belly.
He didn’t shy away from Champ’s prick, though, letting himself lean in and feel every inch. And there were a lot of inche
s.
Champ slid his hands along Stephen’s back, warm and firm, right down to his ass. He was anticipating the squeeze and it felt so good when it came. He arched into the touch, a little gasp escaping him.
Champ groaned into their kiss, the squeeze tightening until he could feel Champ’s fingers digging into his ass.
He wanted that fat, long cock inside him. He wanted to feel every inch, and he needed to be filled. Champ seemed to be on the same wavelength, fingers shifting, moving to slide along his crack, and suddenly he was aware of just how dressed they both were.
His cock ached, but in the best way, in that way that he knew they could go all night. And he hoped they did—he wanted to.
“Let me light the fire, boy. It’ll be nice and toasty for us. Nakedness is good.”
“How decadent! Do you need help?”
“It’s a gas fire,” Champ admitted. “The logistics of a chimney in an apartment building were impossible. Anyway. So there’s only a switch. But the affect is still nice.”
“That’s still going to feel amazing—to cuddle before the fire together.”
“It is.” Champ went over and turned on the fire, adjusting it to high enough that he could feel it on the couch. “Undress for me, boy. Let me see you.”
“Yes, Sir.” He stripped, the firelight making him feel sensual, beautiful. The moans that came from Champ added to that, letting him know Champ was enjoying the show.
He folded everything, set it aside, and stood, prick full and proud, letting Champ look his fill.
Champ walked casually around him, first simply looking before sliding a finger along his skin. “I could look at you like this every day. You are stunning, boy. Absolutely beautiful.”
“Thank you, Sir.” His nipples went tight and hard, his cock bobbed, and he spread his thighs.
Champ purred for him, then stood in front of him, fingers finding his nipples right away. He tried not to gasp, but his abs gave him away, rippling at the touch.
“Mmm. Pretty and responsive.”
“Yes, Sir. They are sensitive.”
“That’s what I like.” Champ kept playing, mostly gently. They drew up, loving the attention, the pressure and pleasure.