by Lisa Henry
Weird. Bel hadn’t known for sure what people meant back then. He liked to watch Daniel Whitlock run. A few times he’d seen him down by the riverbank, reading when the rest of the kids were swimming. He had a sinking idea that weird meant fag, and that he was probably weird as well. Then he heard about the time that Daniel Whitlock was caught looking into Bobby Grant’s window for three nights in a row and claiming he didn’t know nothing about it. Like Bobby was lying or something, but Bobby’s sister saw him as well. And their mom.
Weird fag.
After that, Bel had kept clear of him. Didn’t want to get tarred with the same brush. He wondered now if it would have made any difference if Daniel’d had a friend back then.
“Mama, you remember Daniel Whitlock when he was a kid?” he asked as he sat down at the kitchen table.
“’Course I do.” She took a loaf of bread from the bread bin. “Want a sandwich, baby?”
“Yes, please. You got turkey?”
“I think so.” She went to the fridge. “Why are you asking about Daniel Whitlock?”
“Someone tried to burn his cabin down last week.”
“I heard about that.”
Yeah, the whole town had heard about that. And everyone knew it was Clayton and R.J. and Brock, but the boys weren’t saying anything. Just walking around with more swagger than usual, and proud grins plastered on their faces.
“Well, I’ve been talking to him a bit,” Bel said. “Kind of got me wondering if anyone saw it coming. What he did, I mean.”
His mother snorted at that. “’Course everyone did, but only in hindsight!”
“Yeah, I guess that’s how it goes.”
His mother set his sandwich in front of him. “Turkey and mayo.”
“Thanks.”
She sat down opposite him, cupping her hands around a mug of coffee. “Well, he was an odd one, always wandering around town when a boy his age should’ve been home in bed. There’s worse things, I know, but I didn’t want you boys hanging around him because of the drugs. Wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what scrambled his brain to begin with.”
Bel had no reason to get defensive when a week ago he’d thought Daniel was on something as well. He took a bite of his sandwich. “What if it wasn’t drugs though?”
His mother looked at him. “You don’t believe that rubbish that he didn’t know what he was doing, do you?”
“I think he knew what he was doing,” Bel said. “But I think he was sleeping when he did it.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“I’ve seen it, Mama. I’ve talked to him when he’s like that, and when he wakes up, he don’t remember. He’s not lying, I know that.”
“Exactly how much time are you spending with that boy, Little Joe?”
“It’s for work, Mama.” Not entirely a lie. “Anyhow, Dav’s been saying for years she believes him.”
His mother furrowed her brow. “Dav didn’t grow up here, didn’t know what he was like.”
“Well, maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe she’s got no prejudice against him like the rest of this town.”
“I love that girl like she’s my own daughter. But she’s plain wrong.”
Bel pushed his plate away. “Maybe I’m plain wrong too then, Mama.”
“I don’t understand. Why are you getting all out of shape over this?”
This, Bel thought. Him. Weird fag freak.
“I dunno. Makes me wonder, I guess, if there was something wrong with me like that, if I’d be living out in the woods with my own family pretending I wasn’t drawing breath.”
His mother pushed her chair back and came to stand behind him. She put her thin arms around his shoulders. “No. That wouldn’t ever happen, baby.”
Bel leaned back into her embrace and sighed. “Thanks, Mama.”
She held him for a moment longer, giving one last squeeze before she let him go. “Now, are you gonna spill the beans on Dav or not?”
Lucky he’d pushed his sandwich away, or he might’ve choked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His mother leaned against the countertop, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t you lie to me, Joseph Peter Belman.”
“I ain’t lying,” he lied.
She huffed. “I was nineteen when I had Billy, but things were different then. These days, a girl can wait a while longer. Dav’s got a career, a better one than Jim’s, and twenty-five is too young to throw it all away on a baby.”
She’d be singing a different tune when they told her, Bel knew.
He stood. “I gotta go. I gotta get some groceries and stuff.”
“Little Joe,” she said in a warning tone.
He showed her his palms. “Mama, if Dav and Jim have something to tell you, they’ll tell you in their own time. Ain’t no business of mine.”
“Joe!”
Her voice followed him back down the hallway to the front door, where he made his escape into the sunlight.
“Fuckers! Inbred fuckers!”
Daniel thought it was the sound of his own screaming that woke him. That, or the smell of blood and wet grass. For a second, he saw Kenny Cooper looming over him and sucked in a breath for another scream. Then there was a hand over his mouth. They’d done that too. Put a hand over his mouth, blocked off his nose, and he thought he was going to choke. He’d tried to bite. Could still taste the cigarettes and beer and sweat.
“It’s me,” Bel said. “You’re okay.”
Bel’s hand didn’t smell bad. Didn’t smell of anything at all, except Bel. Daniel relaxed and flicked his tongue against Bel’s palm. Tasted good.
Bel pulled his hand back like he’d been stung. “You awake, Daniel?”
“I’m awake.”
“Gonna turn the light on.”
Bel knelt up, and a moment later the mattress rose as he stood up and headed for the light switch.
Daniel squinted when the light came on. “What’d you do that for? What time is it?”
“About three,” Bel said. “You been flopping around like a landed fish for about an hour. I think maybe you hurt yourself.”
It wasn’t until Bel said it that Daniel felt it. He pulled his arms down as far as he could and twisted his neck to see. The cuffs had cut his wrists. “Yeah, stings a bit.”
“You got a first aid kit?”
“No. Maybe got some iodine under the bathroom sink.”
Bel snorted and shook his head. “You living out here in the woods and you got no first aid kit?”
“I got a pair of tweezers too!” Daniel said, and smiled at Bel’s answering laugh.
When he came back, Bel sat on the bed beside Daniel with the iodine and a roll of toilet paper. He unlocked Daniel.
Daniel sat, resisting the urge to rub his stinging wrists.
Bel reached out for Daniel’s hand and drew it onto his thigh. “This’ll smart,” he said, and dabbed it with iodine.
“Jesus fuck!”
Bel lifted Daniel’s hand up, leaned toward it, and blew on the sting. “Better?”
Daniel couldn’t remember the last time someone had done that for him. His mom, probably, when he’d skinned his knees as a kid. He nodded and gave Bel his other hand.
He hissed as Bel cleaned it. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Bel didn’t meet his gaze.
“Better put the cuffs back on now,” Daniel said.
“Maybe that’s not such a good idea,” Bel said. “I gotta work early in the morning, and your yelling and twisting doesn’t exactly let me get my eight hours, you know?”
“Sorry. If you wanna go, I got the ice locks. I already got a few hours, so it’ll be fine.”
“I ain’t leaving you, Daniel.”
That twisted his guts up.
“You lay there and get comfortable for once.”
Daniel lay back with a sigh. “Bel,” he said, as Bel rose and headed back to the bathroom to put the stuff back. He rolled onto his side. “You gotta lock me up, Bel.”
Bel pa
dded back and flicked the light off. “Shut up, Daniel.”
Daniel scowled. “It’s gotta happen! You can’t fuck around with this. It’s—” And clamped his mouth shut when the mattress dipped again. Bel pressed his warm body against Daniel’s and wrapped his arms around him. “What’re you doing?”
“Gonna hold you until morning,” Bel said, his breath hot on the back of Daniel’s neck.
Daniel bit back a whimper. He cleared his throat. “But—”
“Shut up,” Bel said again, tightening his grip. “Just relax.”
Daniel tried, but it was impossible with Bel’s arms around him. Daniel was suddenly too hot. Itchy, uncomfortable. His dick was swelling, and he felt tight all over his body. Hadn’t shared a bed with anyone he remembered in years. Awake, Daniel’s body didn’t want sex. Sometimes his cock reacted to an attractive guy, but there weren’t many of those in Logan, and the desire never lasted.
But Bel kept breathing steadily, and soon Daniel couldn’t do anything but breathe with him. His dick was hard, and the heat of Bel’s breath was making him squirm.
“You always this antsy?” Bel asked.
Daniel’s answer was a sharp inhale as Bel’s groin pressed against his ass. “Can I . . .?” he whispered.
“What?” Bel’s voice buzzed along the edge of his ear.
Daniel rolled over and faced Bel, wriggling against him. Threw one leg over Bel’s hip and moved his lips toward Bel’s.
Bel squeezed Daniel harder, making him grunt. He expected the kiss to be as hard as the embrace, but Bel’s lips were gentle. Daniel kept one hand on Bel’s chest and ran the other through his hair. Bel was wearing jeans, which was strange—the stiff denim against Daniel’s soft flannel pants. He liked that Bel was dressed—it made him feel like if anything happened, Bel would be ready to take care of it.
He would have liked Bel better undressed, though. Was about to tell him so, except . . .
Except he never did this. Not awake. Yet his cock was throbbing, his balls fucking aching. He wanted anything Bel had to offer—Bel’s hands on his wrists, Bel rolling him onto his stomach, forcing his hips up. He clenched his ass as he imagined Bel’s cock sliding inside him. The burn of it.
Pain could be exciting. Daniel shivered at the thought. It could be, if it meant something.
He panted, taking gulps of air between kisses. Bel had pushed one leg into the V of Daniel’s and was slowly moving it back and forth. Daniel gasped as the top of Bel’s thigh grazed his balls through his pants. He moaned against Bel’s cheek as he rubbed his cock on the front of Bel’s jeans.
“There you go,” Bel whispered, as Daniel found his rhythm.
Daniel wondered if he should offer to do something better than rutting against Bel like a horny teenager. Knew he couldn’t manage a blowjob, but he’d make a decent effort with his hand. He started to reach for Bel’s fly, but suddenly Bel was digging his fingertips into Daniel’s back in quick pulses that matched the steady jerking of Daniel’s hips. The pressure was just close enough to pain that Daniel forgot to think, forgot to worry, just fucking plunged into a dark fire that took his whole body, made him writhe and shudder.
“That’s it.” Bel kissed Daniel’s chin. His tongue rasped along the stubble there. He bit lightly. Every few seconds Daniel had to stop thrusting and grind his cock against Bel’s hip, clutching Bel as he did. Whenever he did that, Bel would press his hip against Daniel’s groin, rubbing up and down, helping Daniel as best he could. Each time, Daniel felt closer to the edge, and he sucked in a breath and tried to let go. But each time he came up short, and finally he faltered.
“Come on,” Bel urged.
Daniel let out the breath he’d been holding and tried one more time. Bel’s hand slid down his back, and two of his fingers pressed Daniel’s tailbone. Daniel imagined those two fingers pushing into his tight asshole, fucking him. The thought wasn’t scary. With Bel, it wasn’t scary.
Bel’s lips closed over his again, his tongue skimming the roof of Daniel’s mouth. A low groan from Bel that Daniel felt in the back of his throat, and then Daniel’s balls tightened. He closed his eyes, tilted his chin up, and held Bel as hard as he dared as he came. Long, hot spurts of cum that covered the inside of his pants, dripped onto his thighs.
Daniel let his body go slack. Struggled to get his breathing back to normal. “Shit,” he whispered.
Bel stroked his back. “You wore out yet?”
Daniel tried to laugh. The sound stuck in his throat, and he swallowed it. His face burned a little. “I don’t, um, don’t usually . . .”
“Usual ain’t been helping you much,” Bel said quietly.
“That what this is?” Daniel whispered, feeling the shame creep in. “You helping me?”
“What this is,” Bel said, “is messin’ around a bit. Ain’t no big thing if you don’t want it to be. Maybe you’ll sleep without going nuts, and maybe you won’t. I just wanted to see you come.”
“I’m not so good with casual,” Daniel admitted. He’d never had a casual relationship.
“You willing to let some stranger lock you up, but you ain’t good with casual?”
Daniel wondered if Bel was talking about himself or Master Beau. “I mean, I don’t know what the rules are.”
“Why do there gotta be rules?” Bel rubbed his back.
“I don’t know,” Daniel said, trying to lie still. “I like rules.”
I like being told. I like knowing there are boundaries. I like feeling secure.
“But you don’t make the rules, do you?” Bel asked.
“No. That’s not . . . that’s not how it works.”
Bel hesitated. “You want me to do it?”
Yes. Please, yes.
“If you wanna.”
Bel was silent for a long while. Then he sighed, a gentle heat against Daniel’s face. “Okay.”
Daniel waited, but Bel didn’t say anything else. A quick, cold bloom of fear. What’d I do, telling him that? “You want me to maybe . . . if you didn’t come, I mean, I could maybe do something for you.”
“Not tonight.” Bel ran his fingers up the knots in Daniel’s spine, rubbing against the soft material of his shirt. “Let’s just lay here awhile, okay?”
Daniel closed his eyes, focusing on the touch, letting it quiet his body. “Okay.” Maybe it’s okay. Maybe I didn’t hurt anything.
Sleep came much sooner than he expected.
Well, shit.
Bel stared at the image on his computer screen. A guy on his knees, with a tight ring around his cock and balls. Made them stick out and bulge like overripe fruit. Which wasn’t even the worst of it. The guy had clothespins bristling from his balls.
Bel rubbed his hand over his forehead. Was that the kind of thing Daniel did?
He clicked onto the next picture. Saw blood dripping down some guy’s hard cock, and clicked straight through. Did not want to know what the fuck was going on there.
He’d come home for lunch. He’d thought of going out to Daniel’s, but he wanted to check this stuff out first. The stuff that Daniel was into. And no way was he going to use the computers at work.
Daniel wanted rules, and Bel had agreed to provide them. And there were a lot of rules. Like how a guy—a sub—ought to present himself on his knees. How he ought to mind his posture, how he ought to speak. How he ought to not come until he was told, as though there was any power in the universe that could stop a man from coming once those floodgates were open.
Bel thought of last night, when he’d encouraged Daniel into coming. Wondered if he’d get the same satisfaction from stopping him. He doubted that. So maybe he wasn’t a dom or a master or whatever Daniel was looking for. And it was hard to look at these pictures and see Daniel as a sub or a slave. These guys were just . . . weird.
Bel didn’t want Daniel wearing nothing but studded leather. Didn’t want him to look foolish or debase himself. Didn’t want him on display.
Shit, this was all wrong.
&nb
sp; He clicked onto the next picture.
Fuck.
Just a guy in a pair of cuffs. Kneeling there, his hands behind his back. Naked, cock hard. And he was looking up at the guy standing over him, and he was smiling. Hell, they were both smiling. And it didn’t look staged, and it didn’t look weird, and it didn’t look like they’d raided their Halloween costumes for the photo. It looked—Bel reached down and readjusted his stiffening cock—hot. It wasn’t just the cuffs. It was their shared smile that looked like something more: hope, need, trust, comfort, love?
Bel snorted. Yeah, because two guys on a porn site were in love.
Except the longer he stared, the more real it looked.
He thought of the way Daniel had offered his hand to be cuffed in the hospital: so quiet and trusting. And remembered the way it had made him feel. Maybe it wasn’t all about crazy costumes and crazier props. What did Daniel really want?
What did Bel really want?
He stared at the photograph. That. He wanted that. And Daniel wanted rules. So maybe there was a way to get there without the pain, without the props. Daniel had said himself that he didn’t get off like that. Well, Bel wanted him to get off, because holding him last night when he rubbed against Bel until he came had been fucking amazing. Bel had been hard as well, but it didn’t even matter. Okay, so he’d jerked off in Daniel’s tiny bathroom when he crawled out of bed in the morning, but at the time, Daniel’s need had seemed so desperate, so profound, that Bel had shoved his own onto the back burner. Never done that before. Never felt the obligation.
He wished there was some way he could keep this up with Daniel without having to explain himself to anybody.
“Went by your place last night,” Uncle Joe had said when Bel had turned up to work. “Didn’t see your car.”
“I was out.”
“Oh yeah?”
“It’s complicated.”
Uncle Joe had left it there.
It was more than complicated. Even disregarding the fact that Daniel was a killer and Bel was a cop, it was complicated. Bel wanted to give Daniel what he needed, wanted to fuck him until neither of them could walk straight too, but what did Daniel really want?
He wanted to be controlled. He wanted to be contained. He wanted Bel to make the rules.
