Room at the Top

by Jane Davitt

  “Oh.” Jay bit his lip. “Now we’re in for the night, I was thinking of starting to piece together the display framework for the diorama. I really need to start it soon.”

  “Sawing? Hammering? God, just use your nail gun to put me out of my misery, why don’t you?” Austin sniffed wetly, reproachfully, and added, “Your soup’s burning.”

  “It’s your soup, and I thought you couldn’t smell anything.” Jay could tell from having nursed Austin through a previous cold that he’d turned the corner and was actually on the mend, even if he didn’t really feel better yet. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure Liam would kill me if I brought you over there and you coughed and snotted your germs all over him.”

  “That doesn’t mean”—Austin paused to cough again—“that doesn’t mean you have to cancel.”

  Jay frowned. “I think you’re delirious.”

  “No, I’m not delirious. I’m actually making more sense than you are. You can go without me, duh.”

  “Um, no, I can’t.” Jay was mildly alarmed by the suggestion. “We’re a package deal, remember? That’s what we told Liam.”

  “The important word in that sentence being we.” Austin fought with the tangle of covers so he could roll onto his side. “You’ve had a shitty week, what with me being sick and the reorganization at the library. You need tonight. There’s no reason you shouldn’t have it. It’s okay with me, and it’ll be okay with Liam too.”

  Jay fiddled with the frayed edge of Austin’s T-shirt sleeve. “You need a new shirt.”

  “And you need to get better at changing the subject if you want to get away with it.” Austin poked his thigh. “At least call him and ask.”

  It was true that Jay’s week had been spectacularly shitty, and he’d have been lying to himself or anyone else if he’d said that his weeks didn’t revolve around Friday nights. He loved Austin and didn’t want their life together to be any different than it was, but without the once-a-week sessions with Liam, something would definitely have been missing. He could get through another week without tonight, obviously—but he’d be a lot more relaxed if he didn’t have to give it up.

  “I’m really not sure it’s a good idea.”

  “Put it this way: If you don’t go, what will you do? Oh wait, you already told me. Make lots of noise when I’m trying to sleep. Go and make it for Liam instead. He knows how to shut you up.”

  “Part of me wants to,” Jay admitted slowly. The very fact he was tempted made him decide against it. “It’s just…no. I’m not leaving you. You might drown in snot. I’m going to make you drink some soup; then you can go to sleep, and I’ll be quiet as a mouse.”

  “Jay—”

  “No,” Jay said firmly. “I’ll call Liam and cancel after you’ve had your soup.”

  Austin managed to swallow half a bowl of soup with Jay coaxing, cajoling, and threatening him. When Austin’s eyelids began to droop, Jay set the bowl aside.

  Tiptoeing out, he closed the door carefully and went to call Liam, using his cell and going up into the attic where his latest project waited for him.

  Fiddling with a piece of balsa, he waited for Liam to answer, surprised by the jolt he got when he heard Liam’s voice, a conditioned anticipation. That voice promised him pain and pleasure on a weekly basis. He’d been channel surfing and caught a Miss Marple mystery the week before. The English accents had made him half-hard, even if they were saying things like, “And where were you on the night of the seventeenth, madam,” not, “Touch your toes, Jay, and let me show you what six of the best feels like. Oh, I think you can do it without bending your knees, don’t you? Or I might abandon tradition and make it a baker’s dozen. That’s thirteen, by the way, and trust me, it really would be an unlucky number…”

  “Thornton.”

  “Oh, hi. It’s me, Jay.”

  “I know. I have call display.”

  Of course you do.

  Jay got to the point. Liam hated it when he rambled, or at least he said he did. “It’s about tonight, like I said in my e-mail. Austin’s down with this flu bug going around. He’s been off work for two days, and he’s fast asleep and looks like hell, so tonight…well, we can’t make it.”

  There was a pause, long enough for Jay’s hand to get slippery against the small phone. “We’re really sorry, Sir,” he ventured. “I was looking forward to it.”

  “I’m sure you were. Another time. Give Austin my best wishes for a speedy recovery.”

  Jay looked at his silent phone. Liam had hung up on the heels of the last tight, icy syllable. “Oh yeah. That went well.” The piece of balsa wood in his hand went flying across the attic as the quietest way he had of venting. “Fuck.”

  He tucked his phone back in his pocket and looked around the attic. There had to be something he could do that wouldn’t disturb Austin and would take his mind off everything he was going to be missing out on tonight.

  Something turned out to be painting rocks. He had to wait for them to dry between coats, but there were a lot of rocks so by the time he finished the base coat on the last, one as big as his fist, the first pebble-sized rock was dry.

  Or at least he thought it was. When he picked it up, it slid through his fingers, leaving them smeared with gray, and fell to the floor, rolling along the boards, picking up dust and leaving splotches of paint in return.

  “Fuck!”

  It was the smallest of mishaps, but it was enough to make him snap. With a growl, he picked the rock up from the floor and launched it at the wall. The thud it made was anticlimactic enough to deepen his frustration.

  “If you don’t go to Liam’s, I’m gonna call and ask him to come and get you.”

  Jay whirled around. Austin’s head was sticking up over the edge of the stairwell, his hair rumpled, his eyes sleepy.

  “You should be in bed!”

  “I got up to pee. All that soup. Heard you muttering and cursing.” Austin yawned. “Go. Tell him to spank you once for me. Stay there long enough for me to get some sleep. If you don’t, I’m going to call him myself and promise him whatever it takes, so you might as well listen to me.”

  “Okay, okay. Fine.” Jay tried to sound like the put-upon boyfriend who was only going along to be cooperative, but in reality as soon as he made up his mind, his heart started beating faster. He considered calling Liam, then decided to follow the old adage that it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. He’d just show up on Liam’s doorstep.

  * * *

  By the time he’d driven over, he was starting to regret that decision.

  It took Liam a couple of minutes to answer the door, and he looked surprised when he did. “Jay.” His expression changed to one of worry. “Is something wrong with Austin?”

  Jay shook his head. “No. I mean, other than the copious amount of phlegm he’s producing. He was kind of, um, hoping I could hang out here for a few hours so he could get some rest. Says I make too much noise.”

  “You do have a tendency to be noisy,” Liam said thoughtfully. “And when you say hang out, you mean…?”

  “He mentioned getting you to spank me because I was being a pain, but I’ll do whatever you want me to do. Preferably on my knees?” Jay grinned. “I could start out here on the porch, if you want?”

  “No. Come in.”

  Once the door was closed, Liam gave him a long look. “Is this a first for you? A solo session?”

  “Yeah, but we’re both cool with it.” It felt important that Liam know. Jay added, “It was Austin’s idea.”

  “I see.” Jay could tell Liam didn’t want to send him away. “I had a plan for this evening that involved a new location. There’s a spare room upstairs with more space now that I’ve rearranged things a bit. But it’s up to you. We can save that for another time, when Austin is feeling better.”

  “Upstairs sounds good. It’ll be different.” Different would be good, Jay thought. It’d be different without Austin anyway, so he might as well take it the whole way.

 
; In all the weeks that he’d been coming over, Jay had never been upstairs. Like the rest of the house, it was big, but empty both of ornament and warmth. Liam’s personality made itself felt strongly, but not here. The house was clearly somewhere he ate, slept, stored his belongings, and, once a week, spanked, tormented, and teased two grateful subs—nothing more than that.

  “No pictures.” Jay gestured at the pale walls when they reached the top of the stairs. “Don’t you like them?”

  Hell, even hotels had pictures.

  Liam shrugged. “Not for the sake of it and there just hasn’t been time to visit any galleries. My last house had a good many pieces of art—too many—but none I cared about enough to fight for.” He gave the hallway an appraising look, then led Jay into a room that felt bigger than the den. It housed a queen-size bed against one wall, covered with a white fitted sheet, nothing more, with four pillows at the top. “I suppose I should make an effort,” he said half to himself before turning his head. “Are you sure about this?”

  The jump from art to the reason he was here left Jay stumbling for words. It wasn’t an easy question to answer when he was both sure he wanted and needed it, but was also feeling guilty about leaving Austin and being here without him.

  Honesty was something Liam prized even above the ability to hold still and keep quiet, though, so he did his best.

  “I… It feels right to be here. It’s Friday. I’m so fu… I’m so ready for this that it hurts.”

  “Not as much as it will do, especially if you keep swearing,” Liam said with a flash of dry humor. “Go on. I’m sure there’s a but about to make an appearance.”

  Jay gave him a suspicious look. “Was that another pun?”

  Liam grinned, a swift, charming grin that transformed his face. “Yes, but it wasn’t intentional. I promise not to inflict any more on you.”

  “Then I promise not to swear.” Jay told himself firmly it was a promise he would keep for the night, even if it wouldn’t be easy. Cursing just came naturally, the words slipping out into conversation without thought. He managed to keep it under wraps at work, but the whole atmosphere encouraged it—the library was quiet, a place of respect and sanctuary.

  Come to think of it, Liam’s house wasn’t all that different.

  “I’m waiting,” Liam said pointedly, and Jay hurried to strip off his clothes, folding them and putting them on top of the low dresser Liam indicated. He knelt, the thick rug soft under his knees and against his shins, and bent his head.

  “Better.”

  Liam walked in a circle around him slowly. His shoes were dark brown leather and looked brand-new. They made little indentations in the rug with each step. Jay wondered what Liam would do if he bent forward and kissed one of those shoes. It would smell of leather and polish, he knew that much; it would be smooth against his lips. He’d never kissed any part of Liam, not even the knuckles of those large, strong hands.

  “Hands and knees.” Liam expected immediate responses to his orders and got it.

  It was a more comfortable surface than the den downstairs. Did Liam know that? It was confusing because this wasn’t supposed to be about Jay’s comfort. This was about what Liam wanted, and if Jay got what he needed out of it, that was just a fortunate side effect.

  “Sometimes,” Liam said, “I think about leaving you like this for an entire day. I could go to work and come home, and you’d still be here on your hands and knees waiting for me.”

  Jay had already been half-aroused; now his cock swelled more in response to Liam’s words. “Yes, Sir.”

  This earned him a swift, hard slap on the ass. “I haven’t given you permission to speak.”

  Not sharing what he was feeling was one of the most difficult parts of the session for Jay, but he was learning to find some measure of peace in the silence Liam imposed on him. At the end, Liam encouraged him to talk, but by then Jay had usually forgotten what he was going to say or it’d stopped mattering. He closed his mouth, pressing his lips firmly together to remind him.

  The bed caught his eye, a clean, white shape hovering on the edge of his vision. That was different. That was new. It didn’t disturb him; the way Liam had it set it up, it looked more clinical than romantic—and now he was back to the medical fantasies Austin was always teasing him about. Fuck.

  “You’re so easily distracted, aren’t you?” Liam placed his hand directly over the piece of skin he’d slapped. Jay could feel every finger lining up with the quickly fading heat. “Something triggers a thought and you just…go away.”

  He sounded curious, not annoyed. Jay opened his mouth to explain he was going deeper into the scene, not thinking about work or what he’d had for supper or anything like that, but he caught himself just in time.

  “Good boy.” Liam patted Jay’s ass. “I was about to start some work when you turned up. Nothing urgent, but since I had the evening free…” There was the slightest edge to that. Jay had known Liam was pissed over the cancellation, but he hadn’t realized how much. “I wonder how you’d feel if I went back to it, with you kneeling beside me, forbidden to talk or move—and that was a rhetorical question, but you may think about your answer now, and tell me when I ask if it’s the same when I’ve finished talking.”

  Jay exhaled. Okay. His answer was that he’d hate it, and he couldn’t see that changing. Austin would love it, the self-discipline required, the deepening intensity with every passing moment, but Jay knew he’d get bored quickly. Patrick had tried it with him once or twice, but it hadn’t done anything but make him antsy.

  “Austin, I’d simply allow to kneel without binding him in any way. He’d look good, don’t you think? His back perfectly straight, his shoulders pulled back, his knees parted just a few inches. He’d be hard when I put him there, and he’d stay that way until I released him.”

  Liam slid his hand over Jay’s head, making Jay feel like a petted dog or cat, and gripped Jay’s hair, caught up in a tie because that was how Liam liked it. “You, I’d gag and blindfold and cuff.”

  Jay choked on a groan he couldn’t smother. Fuck. Yes. Liam’s words struck him like blows, and he wanted to arch and writhe under them. His arms trembled as he fought the urge.

  “You’d be in the dark, listening to me, aware of the smallest shift in my position, hearing the rustle of paper, the click of keys as I typed. You’d be so angry with me for ignoring you. That’s definitely one of your triggers, Jay. You don’t resent the time I spend with Austin, no, because you love him and you want him to get what he needs, but you always do something to draw my attention if you think I’ve forgotten you.”

  Jay gasped as Liam used his ponytail to pull his head back, a slow, relentless tug. Liam did that a lot, knowing Jay enjoyed the way it made it harder to breathe, the control Liam was exercising over him.

  “I never forget you, Jay,” Liam said, his mouth close to Jay’s ear. “Never.”

  He would have bitten his lip, but the position he was in made it too hard. Instead he let his feelings be known with a slight whimper, which earned him a more vicious tug.

  “Such a bad boy you can be sometimes.” Liam turned his head so that when he spoke his warm breath moved over Jay’s skin. “You think I can’t tell the difference between when it’s an accident and when you’re doing it on purpose?”

  Jay was allowed to answer a direct question. “No, Sir.”

  “I hope not. Because I’m perfectly aware of how smart you are.” Tugging at his hair, Liam forced Jay to tilt his head until their eyes met. “And I know when you’re deliberately defying me. I always know.”

  I love that you do. Jay wanted to tell him. It was such a fucking turn-on knowing he couldn’t hide from Liam, that more was exposed than his expectant skin. He tried to get some of what he was feeling over with his eyes, but he really needed words for that.

  Or the opportunity to touch Liam, and that wasn’t going to happen.

  “I wait for you to do it,” Liam said, and it sounded like a confession, p
utting them, for a brief, disorienting moment, on the same level—two men, each wanting something so much it colored their lives, haunted their dreams. Liam smiled, a thin, anticipatory smile, and he was Jay’s dom again, the man he tried so hard to obey—mostly. “I left something out. Maybe I plug your ears too, so you’re kneeling with nothing to let you know when I’m going to remember you exist and just…touch you.”

  Okay, that would work. Oh God, yes, it would. Jay tried to swallow, his head tilted so far back that it was an effort. Liam saw him struggle and ran his fingers over Jay’s throat, but didn’t ease off. The back of Jay’s head was burning where the hair was pulled taut.

  “You’d jump when I did,” Liam told him. “Austin would be so deeply into obeying me that he’d let me do anything and not break my command to stay still, but even the lightest touch would make you react.”

  The hand on his throat moved down his chest, Liam’s fingernails scratching at his skin, a long, slow spiral that ended in the hollow of Jay’s hipbone. “And if it wasn’t a light touch, if I did something that made you scream through your gag, you’d most certainly move. But tell me, Jay, would you move away or get closer, begging for more?”

  “C-closer.” He couldn’t take a deep breath. Hell, he could barely speak, but he knew the answer to that one. The pull on his hair slackened, and he took advantage of it. “May I ask a question, Sir?”

  Liam had drummed it into both of them that can I wasn’t good grammar and would never get a yes. The lesson had stuck. “You may. Just one.”

  Jay gasped as Liam began to tug at his right nipple, playing idly with it, plucking it and pinching it until it stung. “What would you do to make me scream?”

  “Hm.” Liam tightened his grip on Jay’s nipple and kept it there, like his fingers were a clamp designed to do nothing more than drive Jay crazy. “There are so many things that can be pushed into someone’s arse. I could think of half a dozen that would make you scream.” Without letting go of his nipple, Liam shifted around behind him. “Is that what you really want, Jay? For me to make you scream?”