by Xenia Melzer
“That’s great, Leeland.” Emilio didn’t say more. He was probably still agonizing over the three noodles he had consumed.
“What?” The shrill sound of Peyton’s voice rose easily over the others. “I just spent weeks making the apartment perfect, and now you want to move out? And into that pigsty of all places? Have you any idea how long it took me to find the perfect color paint for the kitchen? Or to hunt down that dresser you said you liked so much? It was a nightmare, I can tell you. I had to drive down to this small backwater town whose name I can’t even remember and haggle with an old witch who didn’t want to let go of it because of ‘sentimental value,’ and I had to eat about a ton of her stone-hard cookies and talk until my tongue fell out before she finally agreed to sell it. And don’t let me get started on the wooden tiles in your bedroom, or I’ll have to kill you!”
Peyton’s voice rose with every word until it reached a level close to what Leeland imagined a banshee’s scream would sound like if the creatures existed. Leeland winced. This was bad.
“I’m sorry. Really. I know how hard you worked, and I appreciate it. A lot. It’s just, this is the first time I’m moving in with somebody.”
“Yeah, cut him some slack, Peyton. This is great news.” Dean tried to mollify Peyton, for which Leeland was grateful.
Peyton looked hesitant for a moment, clearly weighing the benefit of keeping on with his tantrum against toning it down. A dangerous gleam entered his eyes. All of a sudden, Leeland felt like a mouse cornered by an athletic cat. No amount of self-defense training could have ever prepared him for Peyton when he was in one of his moods.
“Well, I may forgive you. Since my efforts on your apartment have clearly gone to waste, I could be persuaded not to be mad at you anymore when you give me free rein over Jonathan’s apartment.”
Leeland gulped. Jonathan said he would do anything, he reminded himself. How bad could it be? You better kiss the Harley goodbye. For a moment, Leeland wavered, but then he gave in. What choice did he have? He really wanted to live with his master.
“Fine. I’ll tell Jonathan.”
A satisfied smirk told Leeland how much he had just been played. He couldn’t hold a grudge, though. Despite his capriciousness, Peyton was a good friend—and Jonathan’s apartment could do with a little makeover. Well, not so little when Peyton was in charge, but it would increase the resale value dramatically. And if he kept on finding good reasons, he might end up believing one of them.
“Now that we’ve gotten this out of the way… Collin, what film have you chosen?”
Peyton seemed perfectly composed, probably because he had just gotten his way without much effort on his part. Leeland couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit gleeful when Peyton saw the happy smile forming on Collin’s lips, and his own face fell.
“No! Not The Nightmare Before Christmas AGAIN!”
Collin pouted. “Hey, that film is great. Don’t worry, though. We’re going to watch Corpse Bride.”
Now it was Curtis’s and Dean’s turn to groan.
“I always cry at the end of that film. Over somebody who’s already dead!” Curtis almost whined.
“I’ve got tissues,” suggested Collin helpfully.
Before Curtis could answer, Peyton chimed in. “You’re one to talk. You made us watch Eyes Wide Shut last time we were at your place!”
“That film’s a classic!” protested Curtis.
“Doesn’t make it good. Next time we meet at my apartment.”
Curtis huffed. “No way. I’m not going to sit through another Vin Diesel marathon.”
Peyton rolled his eyes. “Vin is a stud.”
“That may be the case, but his films are rubbish.” Curtis’s heated argument was backed up by a furiously nodding Dean.
Peyton held his hands up in protest. “Hey, just because there’s not that much dialogue—”
“Try none,” muttered Dean under his breath, which got him a glare from Peyton.
“—doesn’t mean there’s not a deeper meaning….”
“Oh please, what deeper meaning can there be in The Fast and the Furious?” Curtis sounded exasperated.
“Always wear a seat belt?” Emilio’s voice was soft, shy, as if he wasn’t sure how his statement would be taken.
For a moment there was stunned silence. Then the men started to laugh, Peyton included.
“Okay, I give you that.” Peyton had tears in his eyes.
Emilio smiled shyly, clearly happy that his joke had been so well-received. Dean clapped him on the shoulder.
“How about we have a Colin Firth marathon next week? I think we can all agree on him being a stud and his films being suitably intellectual—well, most of them, anyway.”
The others nodded. The choice of film was always a matter of lively discussion in their little group. As a rule, the host had the right to decide, which could be trying sometimes. It also led to them all seeing films they wouldn’t have chosen otherwise, so the system worked as far as Leeland was concerned. They put their dirty dishes away, got bowls, which they filled with tiramisu and panna cotta, and then settled on the two couches to watch the dead come alive.
When the butterfly started flying through the strangely colored world of the Corpse Bride, Leeland leaned back and looked at his friends. Collin was staring at the screen with the rapt attention of a five-year-old, forming the words of the first song with his lips. Dean and Curtis were sitting next to each other, the box of tissues between them. Peyton was still pretending—and failing—to be insulted by the choice of film.
Leeland smiled. An evening with close friends, delicious food, and a damn good film, no matter what Peyton thought. At home his hot-as-fuck boyfriend was waiting. Life couldn’t get much better.
AT ELEVEN thirty Leeland and Emilio said their goodbyes to Collin. Curtis had already left, taking Peyton with him. Dean was helping Collin with the kitchen, which meant loading the dishwasher in a manner that would later cause Martin to take all the dirty dishes out again and rearrange them in a “sensible fashion,” as he liked to call it. Leeland had seen the same scene unfold every time Collin took charge of the dishwasher, and he wasn’t entirely sure if the loopy artist wasn’t doing it on purpose. Or perhaps there simply was an artistic side to arranging the cutlery in the dishwasher that eluded everybody except Collin. Then again, Dean was suspiciously eager to help Collin, and Leeland knew his friend well enough to see the potential entertainment Dean could get out of this. And Dean had lost the last traces of his innocence shortly after Richard introduced him to the world of BDSM. This was a mystery Leeland didn’t feel the need to solve, at least not tonight.
He climbed behind the steering wheel of the Volvo he had borrowed from Jonathan while Emilio entered the passenger’s side. Jonathan insisted on Leeland driving with a safe vehicle, which was cute in a very Neanderthal kind of way and also somehow patronizing since Jonathan’s preferred method of transportation were his Harleys, which weren’t necessarily known for their safety. On the other hand, it was nice to drive a car with heated seating, parking assist system, a very badass sound system, and all the other amenities money could buy and a boyfriend with his own garage could put into a vehicle. Leeland had come to love the automatically adjusting driver’s seat and the massage function Jonathan had put in, which could be activated whenever the car stopped. Being stuck in traffic had never been so relaxing.
Emilio was staring out of the window, and Leeland realized he was even quieter than usual.
“Everything okay?” Leeland couldn’t help but ask, even though he felt a bit nosy. He was almost sure Emilio would turn to him if he needed anything. Almost.
“Yes. It was a long day.”
“Are you still upset about the food?”
Emilio shook his head. “No. I mean, yes, I am, but not in the way you think. It was my decision to eat it, and it was delicious.” Emilio’s hands wandered down to his crotch. “And soon I’m going to find out if it was worth it.”
“If
you’d wanted it to have been worth your while, you should have eaten the tiramisu as well. If punishment is a given, why not go all the way and indulge yourself fully?”
Emilio sighed. “You’re probably right.”
Leeland grinned. He sensed he wouldn’t get anything out of Emilio tonight and wanted to lighten the mood. “I’m almost always right. Just don’t ask Jonathan; he might have a different opinion. Speaking of which, there’s something I wanted to ask you.”
Leeland took Emilio’s shy glance as his cue.
“Since I’m going to move in with Jonathan, I wanted to rent the apartment out. I’m a bit wary, though. You know, not all tenants are reliable, and after all the work Peyton put into making the apartment pretty, I’d hate to see it mistreated. Not to mention Peyton’s reaction if anything happened to the kitchen or his precious dresser. I mean, you heard him in there.” Leeland shuddered. “That’s why I would rather have somebody live there who I already know.”
Emilio didn’t respond. Since it was too late to beat around the bush, Leeland went for the direct approach.
“I would appreciate it if you could move into my place, Emilio.”
Emilio blushed so hard, Leeland could see the change of color in his cheeks even in the dim dashboard light. “That’s very nice, Leeland, but I don’t have the money. I can barely pay the rent for my one-room place.”
Leeland shook his head. “I know that, Emilio. How much do you pay?”
“Six hundred.”
“Then how about you cover the HOA fees for my apartment while I decide what to do with it?”
“Leeland! I can’t do that. You could ask for at least two thousand for the place. Probably more now that Peyton is done with it.”
Emilio was right, of course, but Leeland had different reasons for offering the apartment to him.
“It’s not about the money, Emilio. I earn enough at Whisper, and Jonathan made it clear he won’t take rent from me. I’m lucky. And I want others to be lucky as well. Renting the apartment to you is one way of paying the universe back, so to speak. Besides, that way I have somebody I trust living there.”
Emilio was clearly flustered. “Are you sure?” He didn’t sound as if he could believe somebody would actually be so kind to him, and it tore at Leeland’s heart and hardened his resolve to have Emilio living at his place. The boy deserved some good things in his life after all the shit he’d been through. He reached over and patted Emilio’s thigh in a reassuring manner. If only Emilio would realize that not all people were selfish, heartless bastards like his family and former friends.
“Absolutely. I don’t want to embarrass you, but that place of yours….”
“I know. It’s a dump.” Emilio averted his eyes, and it didn’t take a genius to know it was in shame. Leeland couldn’t have that. He wanted Emilio to gain self-confidence, not lose it.
“Hey, you listen to me, Emilio. It’s unbelievable what you have achieved all on your own. You worked very hard to be where you are now, with a place to call your own and a scholarship at Miami Dade. Don’t let anybody take that away from you. I admire you for your strength—we all do, by the way—and because of that, I want to help you.”
A smile blossomed on Emilio’s face and lit it up. “Thank you, Leeland. Coming from you, it means a lot to me.”
“Do we have a deal?”
“We have a deal.”
Leeland grinned happily. Now all he had to do was tell Jonathan about the bargain he had made with Peyton—something he did not look forward to—and about his plans to let Emilio live in the apartment—which he was sure Jonathan would approve of.
All in all, life was good.
Chapter 4
Two weeks later
JONATHAN STOOD on the threshold to the living room of Leeland’s apartment, admiring the view. Two perfect, taut asses were high in the air, occasionally wiggling when their owners swayed back or forth on their hands and knees. What he saw was so stunning, not even the constant bickering filling the air could dampen Jonathan’s arousal.
“Why did you move that stupid shelf in the first place?” Dean sounded exasperated.
“I wanted to check for dust bunnies.” Leeland’s answer was petulant. Jonathan could practically see the pout, even though his boy’s delectable back was to him.
“Leeland! This is your apartment we’re talking about. There are no dust bunnies. If there ever have been any, they packed their little dust bags long ago and moved out to live with Peyton.”
Dean was right, of course, Jonathan thought. Leeland was a clean freak.
“I just wanted to make sure. What would Emilio think if he came here and found dust behind the shelf?”
Dean sighed. “First of all, he probably wouldn’t even look. That shelf is heavy, and not all of us are obsessed with cleaning.” His ass wiggled enticingly as he shifted his weight to hold up a hand to keep Leeland from interfering. “And secondly, I think he’ll be more upset about the TV not working.”
“Maybe.” Leeland sounded a bit meek. “So how do we fix this?”
“Well, all those plugs have to go somewhere, right? We just have to figure out where.”
Leeland snorted. “Dean, the only thing I know about plugs and cables is that the one with the forky end goes into the socket. And last time I checked, you weren’t much better.”
“I’m not.”
Jonathan watched as the two butts became very still, both men seemingly lost in thought. When Dean started talking again, he sounded as if he was testing a theory.
“We could ask somebody.”
“And admit that we fucked up and are completely clueless? How long would Richard rib you about something like that? Because Jonathan wouldn’t let go of it for months! He has the memory of an elephant.”
Dean’s ass swayed a bit as he shifted his weight more onto his knees. Jonathan had trouble keeping the laughter in. Of course his boy was right. He was going to have a lot of fun with this one.
“We could just… put the shelf back, you know.”
Now it was Leeland’s turn to shift around while he seemingly contemplated this idea.
“That would be cruel. Leaving Emilio to fend for himself. I mean, he does have Master Garrett, but he doesn’t strike me as particularly—apt when it comes to electric appliances. Besides, we’re not Doms. We don’t do cruelty.”
Jonathan decided it was time to make his presence known. As it was, his boy was already facing a punishment tonight. He cleared his throat. It was almost comical to watch as Dean and Leeland scrambled into upright positions, facing Jonathan with sheepish looks. Adorable blushes entered their cheeks, and the glances they exchanged made them look like very naughty boys who had been caught red-handed.
“Master Jonathan, what a nice surprise.”
Dean tried for nonchalant and failed miserably. Leeland took a more direct approach, which turned Jonathan on even more.
“How much have you heard?”
Jonathan smiled evilly. “Enough to get you into trouble.”
Leeland pouted, but Jonathan could tell from the gleam in his eyes how much the idea of a punishment appealed to him.
“Perhaps you could help us, Master Jonathan. We’ve run into a bit of trouble with the TV.”
If there was a hint of challenge in Dean’s voice, Jonathan decided to ignore it. He could always have a talk with Richard later.
“Let me take a look.”
Jonathan went down on his knees to peek behind the shelf, where he was greeted by a nest of cables that reminded him of coiling snakes. He had set up his own sound system at home and was confident he could work it out. How difficult could it be to plug in some cables? He started fiddling with the black cords in an attempt to get them straight, which wasn’t as easy as he had anticipated. The things acted as if they had a life of their own. Once he had all the cords lying in line, he examined them closely and felt his heart sinking. The system at home was color-coded, designed to be used by the clueless, as the nice
geeky salesman had explained when Jonathan bought it. Leeland’s TV and cables were obviously meant to be set up by pros, because they had no color codes. It was all black with funnily shaped plugs that looked more like something from Star Trek than appliances meant to be used by normal people for a simple sound system. Customizing a car or bike was easy compared to the dizzying amount of possibilities the plugs presented. There was no way he could know which cable went where. Jonathan felt sweat break out on his brow. He would never live this down. His mind went a mile a minute in an attempt to find a way to wriggle out of it but came up empty. Suddenly he heard Leeland’s voice close to his ear, which reminded him that the two subs were probably watching him like hawks.
“Having trouble, Master?” The hint of amusement didn’t escape Jonathan.
“Watch it, boy. This is more complicated than I thought. You have no color code!”
“I’m sorry. Next time I let Richard buy me a sound and TV system, I’m going to insist on having my cables in different colors.”
Jonathan rose and smacked Leeland’s ass. The boy winced.
“Ouch.”
“You deserved that and you know it.”
“Maybe. Fine, yes, I deserved it. Doesn’t change the fact that it’s still not working.”
“Weell….” Dean glanced around the room, trying to look innocent. “Leeland and I may not do cruelty, but we have a Dom present now….”
Jonathan glared at him, and Dean had the decency to look embarrassed.
“Yes, I am a Dom. And, yes, Doms can be cruel when their subs deserve it. Right now I know of two who can look forward to some serious punishment. It also doesn’t serve a Dom well to appear weak in front of subs in general. Which is why I’m going to prove my manliness and prowess by putting that shelf back where it was.”
Jonathan was very proud of himself for delivering that speech without having his lips twitch once. As soon as he looked at his boy and Dean, though, who were trying their level best not to giggle, he lost it. They all started laughing so loud, they almost didn’t hear the bell. Dean wiped tears from his eyes.
