The Eager Boy

by Sean Michael

  It was just him and Stack and the way their bodies joined. Bringing their mouths together, Stack added kisses to the mix, stealing his breath. Stealing his sense. His master, his lover, was everything and anything. Time lost all meaning. It was only the two of them for who knew how long. It didn’t matter. He flew with Stack. His master had him, right where Stack wanted him. And that was exactly where he wanted to be.

  Robin arched and bucked, meeting Stack’s every thrust even as Stack began to move faster.

  “Do it with me, boy. On the count of three.”

  All he could do was nod. Nod and breathe and count with his master.

  “Three. Two. One. Now.” Stack’s voice was even, but his thrusts increased during the countdown, became wild. And on “now,” Stack came, filling him deep inside.

  His own orgasm followed along immediately, his balls shooting in a rush, leaving him empty and shaken.

  Stack collapsed onto him, heavy and solid and just right.

  “Damn.” He winked at Stack, the world swaying.

  “Yeah. Love you, baby.” Stack rested his head on Robin’s chest.

  “I love you. Thank you.”

  “You see? I know what you need. And you’re welcome—believe me when I say it was totally my pleasure.” Stack rubbed his slightly stubbled cheek against Robin’s chest, making the marks left there ache a little. “You good? I don’t want to move yet.”

  “I’m perfect. This is right where I need to be.”

  “Oh, that was a good answer.” Stack chuckled, sending air across Robin’s chest. It was delightful and made him shiver, his ass tightening around Stack’s cock.

  It didn’t matter if it was a good answer or not—it was the truthful one. And that was what counted.

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE GOOD thing about putting in a lot of time outside of normal hours was that Stack had plenty banked if he needed to take some off. With no sick animals on his plate at the moment either, he was able to cut his day short when he got Robin’s text around 10:00 a.m.

  fired. Going to have a drink with Jim.

  He’d texted back his outrage and asked for more information. Had this simply been the end of things? Had the gallery closed? Surely Robin would have said he’d been “let go” if that were the case? At any rate, he’d checked in on his charges and left a note on his work voicemail that he was gone for the day—call his cell if there was an emergency—and headed home.

  It was a little past noon when he got there, and still no new texts from Robin. Would he be home? And if not, where would Stack find him? Hell, where did one go for a drink at ten in the morning? He let himself in.

  “Robin? You here?”

  “Yeah. I couldn’t find an open bar.” Robin was curled up in a corner of the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, two bottles of white wine unopened in front of him.

  “Oh, baby, I’m sorry.” He went over to Robin and sat, tugging his boy into his lap and hugging him tight. “About the being fired, not the bars.”

  “She lost her shit.” Robin sighed and curled in.

  Stack leaned back and made sure Robin was totally comfortable. He kissed the top of Robin’s head. “Because the place is finally going under, or some other reason?”

  “The hickeys. She was pissed.”

  “What? Pissed enough to fire you?” He took Robin’s face in his hands and checked him out. The two bruises he’d left on Robin’s face had been covered with concealer, though the three visible on his boy’s neck were darker. “You’ve been loyal through all her nonsense and she fires you for a few love marks? Can she even do that?”

  “She did, whether or not she can. She was looking for an excuse. I gave her one.”

  He was floored. Utterly. “We can fight it.” They could go to an employment lawyer. He was pretty damn sure you couldn’t fire someone for “hickeys,” but a lawyer could tell them for sure.

  “Why? Why bother? She’s going to…. She’ll go under.”

  “You at least need to go back and ask for a reference—she owes you that, at least, and it’ll make it easier to find a new job if you can tell them about this one.” He wanted to go and give her a piece of his mind. Nobody was allowed to treat his boy like this—it wasn’t right.

  “Yeah. I’ll email her. Later. Today I’m going to drink myself stupid.”

  “I’m here now, and there’s much better ways to deal with this than drink.” He was pretty sure Robin knew that—why else wouldn’t he have already started on the wine?

  “I didn’t mean to bring you home. I just… I needed to tell you.”

  “Hey, an emergency at home taking me away from a regular workday is just as important as a work emergency taking me away from time at home. More important, in fact. Of course I came.” He gave Robin a hard kiss to seal the words.

  Robin pushed against him, clinging to him. “Please. Hold me for a little while.”

  “I’m right here doing exactly that.” He wrapped his arms tighter around his boy. “That job wasn’t for you anyway. Now you’re free to find the perfect fit.”

  “Yeah. I feel like a failure. I know I’m not, and I know it’s dramatic, but… I’m a grown-up, and I got fired for hickeys!”

  Those weren’t just hickeys, though. “Your master’s marks,” he corrected. And he wasn’t going to be sorry for having left them or wish he could take them back.

  “She said mean things. I felt scolded.”

  “Well, I officially unscold you. Her words shouldn’t matter, Robin. She wasn’t a very nice person.”

  “No, but….” Robin sighed softly. “I have to admit, it’s tough sometimes, to be proud to be submissive. People don’t like it.”

  “What do you mean people don’t like it? What people?” People who weren’t in the lifestyle and knew nothing about it, he’d bet. He frowned. This was the first he’d heard of this.

  “Well, obviously my former asshole boss. You don’t hear it because you’re not… because you’re you.”

  “You told her about being submissive? Or do you mean your manner because of who you are?” He was confused, upset for his boy, and more than a little growly as a result. And what did “because you’re you” mean?

  “I told her I wasn’t going to apologize for wearing your marks. That I was proud of them.”

  He hugged Robin tight. “Thank you, boy. It means a lot to me that you not only stood up to her, but that that was what you said. Of course it isn’t only people in our lifestyle who leave marks. But thank you. And you shouldn’t feel less because you’re a submissive. It isn’t about anyone being better than anyone else.” Robin knew that, Stack was sure, but maybe his boy needed reminding.

  “I know. I just… it’s a little humiliating, and you forget when you live so much in our little world.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t understand why it would be humiliating.”

  “Forget it. I’m just upset. Ignore me.”

  “Oh no. You’re my boy, and ignoring you is one thing I’m not supposed to do. A fact you reminded me of by leaving me. I’m not about to go down that route now. You’re going to have to explain.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You don’t get it. You never will. There are expectations people have, and submission isn’t on that list.”

  “Hey! There’s no need to get snippy with me. Or to swear at me!” He was just trying to get to the bottom of Robin’s feelings, to help him out. He wasn’t the enemy here.

  “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m just so frigging stressed, you know.” Robin squeezed his fingers. “Forgive me. I’m in a mood.”

  He brought Robin’s hand up and kissed his boy’s knuckles. “You don’t need to be. I’m not going to throw you out on your ear if you don’t have your half of the utilities. And you know I have a fair bit in savings.” They could totally live off his salary if they needed to. The house payments were low because he made balloon payments every year and nearly had it paid off. It didn’t cost that much more to feed the two of them instea
d of only himself. Money was not an issue—if that was what had Robin stressed out.

  “I know. You didn’t toss me out all those years before. I just feel like I failed. It was a job that came when I was desperate.”

  “It wasn’t you who failed—the place was already in trouble when they hired you. And I bet it would have closed ages ago if you hadn’t worked so hard. She used the hickeys as an excuse. You will find something else. And without the pressure of expenses, you can take your time. Or if you decide you don’t want to work, I don’t have a problem with that either.”

  “I think I’ll have to take a couple of days to just pout and be mad.”

  “I suppose I can live with that. As long as you remember who you’re mad at.” He hadn’t appreciated being sworn at for trying to be a good Dom. “And I have some great ideas about how to take your mind off work.” If he couldn’t drive it from Robin’s mind, nothing could.

  “I know who I’m mad at. I also know who will love me even if I’m a turd.”

  He had to chuckle at that. “Well, I’d prefer to love you without the turdiness aimed at me, but yes, I will always love you, even when you’re being a turd.”

  “I just… I think I’m embarrassed. Or maybe I think I ought to be. I don’t know. I don’t want to think that much.”

  “Well, I don’t think it’s a good thing for you to either be embarrassed or think you should be embarrassed about being a submissive. It’s a beautiful thing. And you’re not just any submissive. You’re my submissive.” Maybe Robin needed a good, strong reminder about that. Maybe he needed that reminder to be a little less than private too.

  “I am. I… do you want to go get something for breakfast? Lunch? Brunch?”

  “Are you trying to change the subject?” Stack thought the subject needed more exploring. He needed to know if Robin truly was embarrassed about being a sub, or if this was just backlash from being fired for hickeys.

  “I need a change of scenery. Come on. Let’s go do something.”

  He was about to suggest that their playroom would make an excellent change of scenery when his stomach growled. Loudly. He rolled his eyes as Robin laughed softly.

  “Okay. I guess someplace to eat it is.” He couldn’t very well veto that idea now that his stomach had so clearly added its opinion.

  At least Robin wasn’t trying to drown his sorrows in wine anymore. Or pretend that was what he was going to do, at any rate.

  Stack gave Robin a squeeze before lifting him and setting him on his feet. “You’re going to have to give up the blanket, baby.”

  “Yeah.” Robin folded the blanket, then rolled his shoulders, stretching.

  Stack admired him for a long moment. “You know—those marks make you look even more stunning than you already are. The darkness of them against your pale skin. That they’re mine makes them that much better.”

  Robin blushed, but his smile seemed pleased.

  Stack stood and made sure his wallet was in his back pocket. Then he offered Robin his arm. “Where would you like to eat?” They had variety of options, only a few of which were likely to be super busy at lunchtime. He was pretty sure that unless Robin picked somewhere like McDonald’s, they’d find plenty of privacy to continue their conversation.

  “I want… I don’t know. Something decadent. Waffles. Waffles with butter and syrup.”

  “I’m not sure waffles really count as decadent unless they’ve got foie gras and gold foil or something on them, but we can totally get waffles at Denny’s.” He just wanted to make Robin smile, and if waffles did it, waffles they would have.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think waffles are pretty decadent. There’s something about all the gooey goodness.”

  “We do love our gooeyness, don’t we?” Stack locked up as they left, and they went down the stairs together and took a right when they hit the sidewalk.

  Robin took his arm. “We do. I’m so frustrated, you know? She called me unprofessional.”

  “Did you have any appointments with other people today? Did she have anything on tap for you other than all the dogsbody work you’ve been doing? Because unless she’d told you that you were meeting with the public and she expected a certain look from you to do that, there was nothing unprofessional about what you do in your off time. In fact, it’s none of her damn business.”

  “That’s what I said. I mean, okay. Yes. There’s no place where visible hickeys are professional, but….”

  “But if you’re working in the back and doing heavy lifting and whatnot, then you aren’t going to wear your best outfit, and you’re not going to give a damn if you have a hickey or two. Besides, you covered up the two most visible ones.” He sighed and gave Robin a one-armed hug. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He still wasn’t sorry for having covered Robin in the marks in the first place, though.

  “I’m sorry that it’s a thing. I’m sorry that it seems weird to want to wear marks.”

  “Weird to people who don’t get it, maybe, but there’s a whole community that you’re a part of who get it. Who want it too.” They turned the corner, and Denny’s came into view. Their parking lot looked less than half-full. Score.

  “I know that. You know I know that. I’m just feeling bruised, Stack.”

  “I get that. I’m only reminding you of the positives about being in the lifestyle. And I know it’s easy to say who cares what other people think, but harder to do. You need to eventually get your headspace back there, though. You revel in being my submissive. I don’t want anyone or anything to take that away from you.”

  “I don’t think anyone can.” Robin bumped their shoulders together. “I’m just being stressed. Getting fired is hard.”

  “Yeah, it totally is. Don’t look so surprised. I haven’t always been vet extraordinaire to the big cats of Toronto, you know. I was fired from my very first job when I was fourteen.” And his second and his third. He’d been a huge klutz during his teenage years. Growth spurts were a bitch.

  “I know. You used to be a lowly intern back when I met you the first time.”

  “I almost got fired from that job too.” He’d actually reported his boss for not doing his job. And though he’d been right, his boss had been shirking his duties, he’d almost joined the man on the unemployment line. “Having to deal with other people can be… uh, awkward at times.” That was probably the nicest way he could put it. Aside from Robin and a few close friends, Stack preferred the company of his cats.

  “You think?” Robin leaned against him with a soft chuckle.

  “Yeah, I know. I’m probably the one most people don’t like having to deal with.” And he didn’t have a problem with that, really.

  He opened the door to the Denny’s for Robin, the smell of batter cooking and sugary syrup filling his nostrils. His stomach growled loudly, and Robin laughed.

  “I know, right? Decadent.”

  “Or at least indulgent.” He smiled as the hostess came up.

  “For two?” She grabbed a couple of menus.

  “Please. Preferably a booth.” And preferably in the back so they could have even more privacy, but he didn’t ask, because he knew they wouldn’t have opened the back section if there weren’t enough customers to warrant it.

  She did take them to a booth in a quiet corner, though. “This okay?”

  “Perfect.” He offered her another smile, then waited for Robin to slip into the bench before sitting across from his lover.

  Robin leaned on the table with his elbows, rocking forward. “Bring on the coffee.”

  “Actually, I think we’ll each have an orange juice and then large glasses of milk, please.” Stack picked up one of the menus. “We’ll be ready to order when you bring those.”

  She raised an eyebrow but made a note. “You got it. Won’t be long for those drinks.” Then she was gone.

  “You don’t need the caffeine,” he told Robin as soon as she’d left. “You’re already on edge from what’s happened.”

  �
�I didn’t even get my first cup.”

  “I’m sure you’ll survive,” he teased.

  “I bet I keel over from uncaffeinatedness.”

  “That’s not a word.” He was laughing, though. Especially as Robin sounded so sincere about it. “And I’ll take that bet. I’ll keep you from keeling over.”

  “You promise?” Robin winked.

  “I totally promise.” It was an easy vow to make. He’d taken the day off to do exactly that—focus on Robin. Make him forget about the way the day had started. He glanced at the menu. “I know what you’re getting.” He took Robin’s menu and set both aside.

  “Waffles. No berries. What do you want?”

  “Waffles with berries. I’ll make sure she puts extra whip cream on yours.” He was going to get a couple side orders of bacon too. They both needed the protein, and Robin adored the stuff—it would cheer him up.

  “I can order, if you want me to….”

  He raised an eyebrow at his boy. He always ordered for Robin when they went out. It was what he did. “I’ve got it.”

  “Cool.”

  Cool. He raised one eyebrow at the casual dismissal. Robin was cruising for a bruising, as the saying went. He had a few ideas for how he might remind his boy exactly what it meant to be his submissive—and how good it could be.

  “What? I wasn’t being nasty!”

  “No, you weren’t nasty at all.” Just… impertinent, dismissive. Not at all acting like his boy. “I do think you’re in need of a scene, though.”

  “I’d like to discuss it. I’m… I don’t know. I feel like it’s taking a long time to relax these days.”

  “We’ve been busy the last month or so, and I’ve been slacking off on the scenes. It’s hard to fit them in here and there. That’s no reason for impertinence, though.” He leaned in so only Robin could hear him. “You need a reminder of exactly who is the master here.”

  “I wasn’t being ugly, Stack. I swear to you. I’m trying to be honest.”

  “I never said I thought you were being ugly, boy. You have to agree that a good, hard scene is in order, though, don’t you?”