Flying Free (Rough Love Book 8)

by Leighton Greene

  Jonathan is as cheerful and bright as usual when they meet the next night at a WeHo bar. Like so many people in LA, he’s in the Industry. Jon is a makeup artist, and the first time he met Ben, on hearing about the superhero movie, he started angling for a job on it. Only he was so charming and so open and so honest about his ambitions that Ben couldn’t possibly take offense at it. He just laughed and told Jon he’d see what he could do.

  But soon after that, Jon bagged himself a new Daddy who was a big wig at the studio making the movie, and Jon’s employment in Special FX Make Up was secured. Ben has to admire the chutzpah of the guy. He has hustle Ben can only dream of; if it weren’t for Ramona Jones, Ben would still be doodling poetry in hidden notebooks late at night, instead of gracing the Forbes’ Hollywood 30 Under 30 list.

  “How’d Xander take the blind?” Jon asks, once he’s ordered a complicated tropical cocktail.

  “I mean, better than I did,” Ben admits.

  “Did he take it out on you in an eight-hour sex-fest and stern disciplinarian tests of your physical limitations?” Jon asks with a dreamy sigh.

  “No. He got on a plane and went back to New York to do his job,” Ben says deadpan, and then grins. “He really does have a rep in this town, doesn’t he?”

  “You better believe it, babes. Anyway, here’s to sexy Doms.” He raises his cocktail; Ben raises his beer; they both drink.

  “Do you have any tips for hiding marks?” Ben asks bluntly, once they’re both halfway through the second round. “Xander has great aftercare, but I bruise pretty easily.”

  Jon gives a sympathetic shrug. “My Daddykins prefers a gentler approach. We’re more into the D/s than the SM of things. Although he does like to tie me up from time to time.” Jon wriggles on his bar stool in remembrance.

  The more Ben hears about what other people do, the more he wonders about what it is that he and Xander do. When they were having troubles, Xander suggested that Ben go out and play with other people. See what he was missing out on. Ben completely refused, and that, he is sure, was the right decision. Still, sometimes he’s surprised at reactions in the community to the things he says.

  Sometimes he sees faces twist in fear or horror or even contempt when he casually mentions something that he and Xander have done in the past. And it never even seems like something super bad, at least not to Ben. He’s coming to understand that Xander has his fans in the scene, but he’s also left a few charred bodies along the way as well. Metaphorically, anyway.

  People either seem to love him or loathe him.

  Happily, among the people they hang with the most, Xander is universally loved. But it does make Ben wonder more about Xander’s past. How he built up such a reputation. How his first meeting with the Doctor went down. How he learned to do the wonderful, terrible, awe-inspiring black magic that he does.

  Jon is chirping away about his Daddy’s preferences, so Ben just listens and laughs, and enjoys being with someone who gets it from his point of view. And at the back of his mind, he resolves to ask Xander some more questions about the past. About how Xander sees things. Experiences things.

  Exactly what it feels like to be the Big Bad Wolf.

  But Xander is not so much interested in talking when he gets back home late on Friday night. Neither is Ben for that matter; four days of no jerking off would normally not be that big a deal, but Xander’s texts and emails to him over the week, filled with filthy promises, mean that Ben is aching for release by the time Xander gets home.

  Xander’s homecomings after being away in New York have taken on a routine of their own.

  First he’ll push Ben up against the hallway wall and kiss him deeply, before nibbling down the side of his neck in a taste of what’s to come.

  Then he’ll leave Ben standing there in a daze while he searches out Henry to give him a stroke from head to rump, which Henry will accept with minimal responsiveness, because of his disapproval at Xander’s absence. Ben can relate, frankly.

  By that time Noah will be going crazy in the laundry, because he’ll know the real master is home, and Xander will let him out and tumble around the floor with the dog in a flurry of limbs and licks and tail wags.

  From there, Xander will give a big, happy sigh and spread out all four limbs on the floor of the lounge room.

  “I’m home,” he’ll announce.

  And it happens exactly the same this time, only this time Ben joins him on the floor to kiss him, until Noah’s tongue interrupts theirs.

  “Ugh,” Ben says, pushing Noah’s doggy face out of his own. “Love you, Noah, but I don’t wanna french you.”

  “How have they been?” Xander asks.

  “Fine. Noah and I discovered a new walk route. We go anti-clockwise round the block instead of clockwise.”

  Xander shifts to put a hand under his head. “Calm down, Noah,” he says quietly to the dog, who instantly lies down with his head on Xander’s thigh. Ben wonders if he’s as well trained as Noah, in Xander’s mind.

  The thought shoots straight to his dick.

  It’s as though Xander reads his mind, because his eyes travel down Ben’s body to his crotch. “How have you been?” he asks, his voice low and sexy.

  “Hard as a fucking rock,” Ben tells him. “How is it that Rule 4 always has that effect on me?”

  “Mmm. It’s a good rule.” Xander pulls him close for another kiss, more teasing, flicking his tongue against Ben’s in a suggestion of what he might do to Ben’s cock. “I missed you,” he murmurs.

  “Same. And I wanted to talk to you about some stuff.”

  Xander pulls back a little so he can focus on Ben’s face. “Important stuff?”

  “No, no. And nothing bad,” Ben chuckles. “I just had some questions about, well, you. You and sadism.”

  Xander snorts. “You’re not writing another play, are you, Ballard?” But he grins afterwards to show he’s only kidding.

  “I have my hands full enough with superheroes and Blood Bond, as you very well know,” Ben tells him reprovingly. Blood Bond has been optioned by the same studio Ben is working with on the movie, although whether his play will be rehashed for the big screen or little is something that’s still up in the air. In any case, Ben has no time at the moment to write another play. His ‘for fun’ writing is still his poetry, which he keeps very quiet from Ramona. She’s the type who might decide he needs to Instagram his poems daily and then monetize.

  “Then can we leave the questions until after we’ve had our Welcome Home fuck?” Xander asks, and Ben capitulates.

  It’s a good plan, after all.

  Ben takes Noah out for another toilet and then puts him to bed in the laundry while Xander showers. It’s late, but not too late, so Ben wonders exactly what Xander has planned. He always has something planned. Sometimes it’s sweet and sometimes it stings, but Xander always, always seems to have new ideas, new desires, new ways to show Ben how much he’s wanted. How much he’s loved.

  But Xander seems so tired once they flop into bed together, and Ben guesses the time zone change makes it even later for him. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” Xander sighs. “Go back and forth like this. I’m starting to hope they just kill old Jasper off.”

  “Is it really that bad?” Ben asks, anxiety rising. “Are you thinking of…moving back?”

  “What? No,” Xander says, opening his eyes and giving a little smile. “Not without you, that’s for sure, and your work is here. So I’ll just have to suck it up. It isn’t that bad. I’d rather be with you and if that means commuting, then I guess it means commuting.”

  Ben rewards him with a kiss, although he feels a little guilty nevertheless. Their careers seem to be diverging at the moment, even though they’ve never been more solid as a couple. “You can just sleep if you like,” he says to Xander. “I mean, we can have our break-the-drought fuck in the morning.”

  “Oh, no,” Xander says, immediately more awake. “Hell, no. I’ve been waiting long enough to watc
h you spill. I just don’t know if I can manage anything too theatrical tonight.”

  “That’s fine,” Ben murmurs, dropping kisses on Xander’s face. He’s just happy to hear he’ll be allowed to come. Sometimes Xander institutes Rule 4 when he goes away and then doesn’t even let Ben have an orgasm until another few days have passed from his return.

  One time it was a whole week. Now that was mean.

  But Xander seems to be in one of his snuggly moods, where he likes to have as much of Ben in contact with as much of him as possible. So they wrestle around in bed together for a while, sucking face in a way that reminds Ben of being a teenager again, and making stupid jokes to each other just to provoke groans.

  Ben loves it when Xander comes home, because it feels like Ben is coming home, too. Like this is exactly where he’s supposed to be and exactly where Xander is supposed to be: that their whole lives have been leading up to this point.

  Life just makes a lot more sense when Xander is an inch away from his nose, when Ben can count the chocolate chips in his caramel irises, when Xander’s fingers close around Ben’s cock—

  “Damn I missed you,” Ben breathes.

  “You sure you didn’t just miss this?” Xander asks, giving Ben’s shaft a slow stroke.

  “Oh, I did, just not as much as I missed your stupid face.”

  Xander kisses him again for that, and then rolls, pulling Ben on top. “Since I’m so tired, you can do all the work. Come on, Benjamin, up on your knees. I want you to play with your hole. Open it up for me so I can just slide on in.”

  Ben straddles him as ordered, and leans forward on one arm so he can reach behind himself with the other, with a few fingerfuls of lube. In this position, his face is hovering right above Xander’s, who looks him straight in the eye from a few inches away. “How many fingers have you got in there?” Xander asks.

  Ben can feel his usual embarrassment surge. Xander is dirty as fuck sometimes, and makes Ben say and ask for all sorts of things that make Ben blush. But for now, at least, Ben can push that aside. He’s too needy. He wants Xander inside him.

  “Two,” he says. “You want to tell me when to put in another?”

  Xander shifts, slinging an arm under his head. “Nope. I think you’re probably in a better position to judge right now. I just want to watch your face while you finger your own ass. I like watching your eyes go wide.”

  Ben flushes. He can’t help it. But he keeps working away, keeps his fingers moving, until he decides it’s time for a third, and he tells Xander that.

  But Xander stops him. “Mm, that’s enough for now. I changed my mind. Tonight I want to watch you struggle when you take my cock. Wipe your fingers down.” He gestures to the side, where they keep wet wipes for exactly this kind of thing. Ben, again, does as he’s ordered, getting up on his knees again over Xander’s prone form.

  Ben’s dick is hard and pearling pre-cum from the slit, and Xander flicks at it when Ben’s attention is on the wet wipe. He hisses; it’s only a momentary sting, but fuck, that’s his dick, after all. He knows Xander is watching for his reaction, and feels, perversely, that he doesn’t want to give one, so he concentrates on cleaning his fingers down, and when Xander flicks again, he flinches, but doesn’t jerk away.

  Xander is grinning by now. “Okay,” he says, stretching both arms behind his head now. “Now we have your ass worked over, you can suck me for a while. Get me nice and wet.”

  Ben, who has been looking forward to having Xander inside him, can’t help the frown passing over his face, even as he makes his way down the bed. Xander grabs a handful of his hair and tilts Ben’s face up towards his.

  “What do you say?” Xander purrs.

  “Thank you,” Ben says though clenched teeth.

  “You’re very welcome.”

  Ben can’t help smirking at that. He really does love the way Xander does this. Spins it out so that Ben never quite knows what’s coming next.

  He’s arrived at Xander’s cock now, and rubs his face into it like a cat marking it. Then Ben looks up, keeping Xander’s gaze, while he swallows down in one go, right to the back of his throat.

  Ben is really good at cocksucking these days. Xander seems to agree, letting out a muffled grunt and thrusting up even further into his mouth.

  “You know, this time when I Rule-foured you, I decided to try it for myself as well,” Xander tells him after a few moments. His voice is wavering, lacking the usual control he has. “And I’ve been thinking about you every night while I’ve been away. Teasing myself. Jacking my cock while I think about you riding it, and then stopping just before I shoot. But tonight I won’t have to stop.”

  Ben moans around the cock in his mouth. The thought of Xander edging himself like that is so hot, it makes Ben’s head spin.

  “You like that, do you?” Xander murmurs. “You like the thought of me getting all worked up over you and not being able to do anything about it?”

  Ben lifts his face off Xander’s crotch for long enough to say: “Now you know how it feels,” and goes back to sucking dick while Xander chuckles.

  “Mm, I certainly like how this feels. But much more of this and I’ll spill in your mouth, not your ass. So come on, baby. Get up and ride me.”

  Ben bounces up immediately. His balls are aching, even after only a few days of enforced celibacy. But it’s always like this when Xander Rule-fours him. It’s the removal of something he takes for granted that makes it suddenly important.

  Like his oxygen, when they flirt with breathplay.

  Xander is still lying there like the Lord of the Manor. “You gonna help out, or…?” Ben asks, even though he knows what Xander’s reply will be. There it is: the smirk and the shrug. So Ben grabs Xander’s cock to hold it upright, and settles his asshole over the head.

  “Do it slow,” Xander tells him, and Ben begins to wish he hadn’t skipped quite so many leg days at the gym. His thighs are already growing tight. He’s gonna get sore, fast, if Xander has his way. And Xander does, always, get his way.

  Another flick on the end of Ben’s cock distracts him immediately from the pressure in his thighs. “Ow!” he says, scowling.

  “You’re so pretty when you glare at me like that,” is all Xander says, but his breath catches when Ben pushes down to let his ass swallow up the crown of Xander’s cock.

  Ben makes sure his smugness does not reflect on his face at the reaction. He takes his time working Xander’s shaft into him. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s not the most comfortable he’s ever been, which is exactly what Xander wanted, of course, so it’s fucking hot at the same time.

  And Xander just watches him, lips slightly parted, eyes warm but with a glint of danger, of demands he could make but doesn’t, of desires that Ben knows run dark and deep.

  When he’s seated, his balls plump where they press into Xander, and his thighs mercifully relaxed, he reaches out to stroke a hand down Xander’s chest. He’s judged correctly: Xander is still in his snuggly mood, despite the autocratic orders he’s giving out, and arches up under Ben’s touch, letting out a noise of contentment and pleasure.

  “How does it feel?” Ben asks.

  “Warm. Welcoming. Like coming home.”

  Ben leans forward to kiss him for that one, even as he realizes what he really meant was not “How does it feel to fuck me again after a few days’ absence,” but “How does it feel to be you?”

  He went looking for Xander’s perspective once before, for Blood Bond, even though his characters were not ultimately Xander-like at all. Also, that particular endeavor didn’t end…great. But this time, Ben thinks, it will be different. The two of them have got past all the bad shit and they’re doing really well. So this time, an excursion into the recesses of Xander’s brain, Xander’s feelings, Xander’s past, could only bring them closer.

  And if Xander gets scared, or Ben gets mad, he knows now that they have the courage to work through it together.

  But for right now, all Ben wants to do is f
uck. Xander gives him an encouraging slap on the flank, and Ben resumes his upright position and begins to move. Yep, his thighs are gonna be sore tomorrow, but who cares when everything else feels so good? From this position, Xander’s dick is rubbing sweetly over his most sensitive place inside, and Ben starts to think he could come just from this.

  Xander’s breathing picks up along with Ben’s, even though he’s mostly just lying there and letting Ben do the work. But Xander’s hips are moving, bucking up despite himself, and Ben becomes determined to rile him, make him as desperate for his orgasm as Ben is. So he leans back and balances on Xander’s thighs—let them take some of the strain—and really begins to ride him, swiveling hips, clenched ass muscles, rolling abs…Ben’s dick is so hard it’s almost painful, and when Xander grabs it and strokes it, a jumble of pleading, begging syllables stream out of Ben’s mouth.

  Maybe Xander’s not the one being torn apart after all. But just as Ben thinks it, Xander lets go of his cock and grabs for Ben’s hips, driving deep, deeper into him. He curses loudly and stills, and Ben feels the cock inside his ass pulsing, and Xander falls back onto the pillows again with a long, satisfied sigh.

  Ben, back upright again, rests his hands on his knees and waits for Xander to recover. He says nothing. Last time they Rule-foured, and Ben eventually demanded his orgasm, Xander made him wait even longer, until morning. Again, Xander lets him sit there a while, his dick deflating in Ben’s ass, watching him with interest.

  Finally, he grins. “Nothing to say? Wow, you really learned your lesson after last time, didn’t you, Benjamin?”

  Xander shifts, and his cock finally falls out, but Ben only gives a sweet, silent smile.

  “And now you’re just sitting there dripping my cum,” Xander continues. “That’s how I like you. It’s truly sexy to me, to know I filled you up like that and you’re still sitting there feeling it inside you. Sliding out of you. But I guess I shouldn’t be too mean.”

  With that, Xander finally takes up Ben’s cock and begins to stroke him, no more teasing. He’s using the rhythm he knows Ben loves, and Ben leans back again to balance himself, to steady himself, because he can feel it coming, he’s going to blow—