by T. J. Hamel
“Fucking hell, you’re hammered, aren’t you?”
“Beside the point.” Nathan waves a hand, brushing the silly topic away. “Tell me what happens with Snape.”
Benny squints at him. “Snape?”
“Yeah. Tall, dark, not at all handsome, asshole potions teacher.” Nathan takes another drink. He doesn’t like the way Benny is eyeing the bottle. Benny better not ask to share. Supply is running low. “What happens to him?”
“I’m sorry, are you asking me to spoil Harry Potter right now for you? Like the entire series?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, as a fucking book nerd – your words, not mine – I can’t in good conscience do that.”
“But I need to know,” Nathan says in desperation, his heart pounding. “I need to know about Snape.”
Benny rubs a hand across his forehead. “Why?”
“It’s important.”
“Nate… what’s going on, bud?”
Nathan takes a gulp of his whiskey, closing his eyes as he savors the burn. He sucks in a deep breath right after, the air rushing in, stoking the fire. Then he meets Benny’s eyes and asks point-blank, “Am I the villain?”
Benny’s expression softens. “Oh, Nathan…”
“No, no, don’t – don’t look at me like that.” Nathan points the bottle at his friend, contemplating hitting him with it. “Just fucking tell me.”
After scanning the area again, Benny looks him in the eye and says, “You’re a goddamn hero, Travis.”
“No. No, I’m not.” Nathan shakes his head and takes another sip of the whiskey. He stumbles, but just for a second. The mat must be slippery. “Heroes don’t rape the boys they love.”
The words feel like a bomb.
Nathan snaps his chin up, staring wide-eyed at Benny. He suddenly feels very sober. “I-”
“You’re drunk,” Benny says, interrupting him. “You just need to sleep it off, alright?”
“Carter’s gonna want me when he wakes up. He won’t know what happened.”
“I’ll stop by and tell him you had something come up with work. He’ll understand.”
Nathan takes a wobbly step back, shaking his head. “You’ll scare him.”
“I’ll be quick. I won’t go near him.”
“It’s his day off.”
“I know, bud. I know.” Benny tentatively reaches forward. His fingers brush the whiskey bottle, but Nathan can’t get himself to let go. “Don’t ruin his day off, Nate. It’d be better for him to think you’re working than to see you like this. If you go to him now, you’ll be the one to scare him.”
“But-”
“Nate.” Benny ducks his head, forcing Nathan to meet his gaze. “You’re drunk off your ass, rambling about Harry Potter, confessing love, and bleeding all over the place.”
“I’m not-” Nathan’s words stop when he sees that Benny is telling the truth. His hands are covered in blood, the skin of his knuckles bruising and split. He just stares down at them in wonder. “Oh.”
Benny tries to take the bottle of whiskey again. Nathan lets him this time.
“Can I trust you to keep your mouth shut until we get to my bedroom?” Nathan nods, deciding he should start now for some practice. “Okay. Let’s go, then. I’ll send a slave in to clean.”
He lets Benny guide him out of the gym and into the main area. People keep looking at him, just as they did before. He holds his head high and glares at them to keep them in their place. They all quickly skitter away.
“Alright, bud.” Benny opens his bedroom door and forces Nathan inside, not even allowing him to glance over his shoulder at his own door down the hall. He sits Nathan down on the edge of the bed before disappearing into the bathroom for a while, coming back with a bottle of Tylenol, a wet cloth, and his med-kit.
Nathan groans. “Nooo.”
“Shut up.” He tosses the bottle at Nathan before grabbing some water from his mini fridge and placing it on the mattress beside him. “Take the damn pills.”
“You’re very bossy…”
“You’re very pouty.”
Nathan frowns, his bottom lip curving out. When he realizes he is, in fact, pouting, he quickly straightens his expression and focuses on the pills instead. He hisses when Benny pours antiseptic over his cuts, shooting a glare at his unsympathetic friend. “Careful, asshole.”
“Shut up.” He dabs Nathan’s hand with a piece of gauze. “I can’t believe you did this. So reckless, you fucking idiot.”
“I know.” Nathan swallows hard, hearing the echo of Carter in his mind. “He had a nightmare.”
Benny looks up at him, his hand pausing its work. “And?”
“He eventually calmed down without waking up, but he – he said some things, while having it.”
“What things?”
“Confusing things.” Nathan winces when Benny returns to working on his hand, but he doesn’t complain this time. He deserves the pain. “He was crying, saying he didn’t know what to do, apologizing over and over. He was talking to someone named Casey, it sounded like. And he – well, it sounded like he was apologizing for picking me over him.”
His friend frowns as he wipes off the extra blood on Nathan’s hand and wrist. “Picking you over Casey?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t know who Casey is?”
“No.”
“Do you know what he was picking one of you for?”
Nathan sighs. “No.”
“But you must have an idea if it fucked you up this bad.”
“Yeah. I – fuck, Benny.” Nathan laughs humorlessly, feeling sliced open and raw. “I think he chose to stay with me. It sounded like this Casey wanted Carter to leave me, and Carter picked to stay with me instead.”
Benny nods slowly without saying anything. He carefully wraps Nathan’s hand before moving on to the other one. When he still hasn’t said anything, Nathan asks, “Why would he ever pick me, Ben?”
His friend sighs heavily before rocking back to rest on his heels and looking up at him. “I don’t know. Maybe he sees the real you. Maybe you’re not as good at hiding yourself from him as you’d like to believe.”
Nathan closes his eyes, picturing Carter.
How could he ever pick him?
How could Carter ever fucking pick Nathan after Nathan… “I took his virginity.”
Benny’s attention snaps to him, his eyes wide. “What?”
“The night of the auction.” Nathan lifts his gaze, forcing himself to look at Benny. “When I raped him. When I raped Carter up on stage while he sobbed and begged for help, while men and women laughed at him, while they yelled awful fucking things to him, while he was starving and hurting and – and fucking breaking apart, I took his virginity.”
“Fuck, Nate… I – that’s – okay. Okay.” Benny releases a slow, even breath. Then he straightens his back and slips into what Nathan recognizes as his professional, no bullshit mode. “Okay. This has to stop. You need to get your shit together, Nathan. Now. You’ll get us all killed – or worse. Do you understand me? You will get Carter killed. The boy you love. Understand?”
Throat tight, Nathan nods.
“No, I need to hear you say it.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” Benny wraps Nathan’s knuckles, then moves on to the other hand. He sighs. “And we’ll conveniently forget about that confession of yours, alright? Blame it on the whiskey. Go on as normal. No nightmare was overheard, no meltdown occurred. Alright?”
Knowing that’s for the best for so many reasons, Nathan nods. “Yeah. Alright.”
“Is it out of your system now? Have you worked through all this?”
“Yeah.” Nathan winces as Benny finishes his other hand. He’s not entirely sure if he’ll ever truly be able to work all of this out of his system, but he thinks he worked enough of it out at least. “I’m on track again. I’ve got my shit together. Promise.”
“Good.” Benny squeezes his shoulder, giving him
a tight smile. “I’ll bring you some ice when I’m done checking on Carter. You need anything else?”
“No, I’m good.” Just when Benny gets to the door, though, Nathan blurts, “Don’t go to him!”
Benny turns with an eyebrow raised. “Huh?”
“Don’t go to him. Please. Just – I’ll explain to him in the morning. I’d rather him wake up confused than be afraid of you. You’ll scare the fuck out of him, Ben. Don’t ruin his good day.”
“Nathan,” Benny chides, giving him that disapproving dad look again. It doesn’t make Nathan laugh this time. “You can’t protect him from everything.”
Nathan shrugs, helpless. “I have to try.”
His best friend looks at him for a long time before sighing. He doesn’t look defeated, per se, but he looks resigned. “You’re really fucking gone for him, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” Nathan gives him a tight smile. “Yeah, Ben. I am.”
“Okay.” Benny nods. He looks away, staring at the wall, then nods again before looking at Nathan once more. “Okay.”
Benny returns to the bed, taking a seat beside Nathan. At some point, they collapse backwards, sprawled out on top of the blankets with their clothes still on. It takes a while for Benny to pass out despite their silence, the air around them remaining heavy long after he’d lost consciousness.
It’s Carter’s ghost that’s the problem. It’s hanging over Nathan, bearing down, threatening to suffocate him in guilt and shame.
Moments haunt him.
The first time their eyes met. Carter’s trembling hand clutching his little moose close. That moment when Carter finally allowed his body to sink into Nathan’s hold after falling apart in the bathroom his first night.
Nathan’s cock nudging between Carter’s cheeks, Carter’s eyes squeezed shut, his quiet voice pleading No, no, no.
The boy riding Nathan’s cock, whining, begging for more, begging to come, out of his mind with pleasure.
Carter clinging to the sheets as piss soaks the material between his legs, his ass and thighs varying shades of red and purple.
An adorable frown pulling at the boy’s lips as he sleepily tries to button Nathan’s shirt. Carter sleepy and warm in his arms, dozing in Nathan’s lap as he warms his cock.
Carter sprawled out on Nathan’s desk, looking beautifully wrecked, whispering, Only one, sir. Only person to ever make me feel like this.
Carter curled up in the fetal position on Nathan’s office floor, soaked in Henley’s piss, vomit surrounding him as he sobs.
The boy grinning, his laughter still echoing in the air, soapy hands navigating Nathan’s skin as he teases, Are you going to eat me all up, sir?
Carter’s face twisted in anguish, his head jerking back and forth, sobs catching in his chest, heartbreaking apologies spilling from him in waves of guilt and pain, I’m sorry I picked sir over you.
At some point, Nathan loses the battle, Carter’s ghost luring him back to the bedroom. It’s the dead of night. Nathan is still soaked in scotch and confusion. The boy is asleep on their bed, illuminated by the soft light they always keep on for him near the door. The little stuffed moose Carter loves so much is hooked around his thumb, resting in the palm of the boy’s open hand.
He looks at peace, no trace of the nightmare from before in his expression.
Nathan startles when Carter suddenly stirs awake, his eyes locking with Nathan’s. The boy pushes off the mattress with one hand, scrubbing at his face with the other. “Sir?”
“Hey, sweetheart,” Nathan says softly, his voice embarrassingly rough. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“You’re fine. What are you doing?” Carter looks over at the spot on the bed where Nathan should be before looking back at Nathan again. “Come to bed.”
Nathan hums softly. “I’m not tired. You go back to sleep. Get some rest. You still have a few more hours.”
“I’m not tired either.”
“Carter…”
“Are you still Nathan?” Carter asks tentatively.
Nathan sighs. “Yes.”
“Then come to bed, Nathan. Please.”
This is a bad idea. Nathan is far too drunk, and coming off of a major emotional breakdown. He should not be crawling into bed with this boy. Lord only knows what idiotic things he’d do or say.
“Please,” Carter says once more, voice so impossibly soft.
All of Nathan’s self-restraint melts away. It’s almost laughable that he thought he’d be able to resist at all. He’d give this boy the world if he could.
Nathan stands up, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as if that’ll keep him from reaching out and mauling Carter. He pauses at the foot of the bed to level Carter with a serious look. “If I come to bed, are you going to get some sleep for me?”
Carter nibbles on his bottom lip, forcing Nathan to swallow a moan. Then he shakes his head.
Nathan raises an eyebrow. “No?”
“No,” Carter confirms. “I want to do something else.”
“Oh?” Nathan leans forward, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of Carter’s legs. He smirks when he hears Carter’s breath hitch. “And what is that? Watch another Harry Potter movie?”
That gets Carter to grin. It’s a playful expression. Mischievous. Nathan’s cock hardens, lust coursing through his veins as he considers what the boy might have in mind. His suspicions are confirmed when Carter says, “I want you to fuck me.”
Nathan doesn’t manage to swallow his moan this time. He reaches down to adjust himself, liking the way Carter’s heated gaze locks onto his erection far too much. He tries to remind himself that this is a bad idea. A terrible one, in fact.
“I’m rather drunk, sweetheart.” Part of Nathan wants to scare Carter off. The other part wants to tell the truth just so he doesn’t have to be guilty when he gives in to his desire. “I’m not sure how gentle I’ll be able to be with you tonight.”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
“This wouldn’t be like before.” Nathan rests a knee on the mattress to bring himself closer to Carter before wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. He squeezes. “You still have your consent, Carter. It’s not morning yet.”
“I know.” Carter shifts on the bed, leaning forward until their noses are bumping. “And I’m using it. Fuck me, Nathan. Fuck me like I’m yours. Like what we had today could be real.”
The hand on the back of Carter’s neck tightens without Nathan’s permission. Instead of apologizing, he uses his grip to yank Carter forward, smashing their lips together. The kiss is brutal. Frantic. A sudden fear rises up in Nathan, like he’s never going to get to do this again; he’s never going to be lucky enough to have this again. He grabs at Carter every chance he gets, squeezing his neck, pulling his hair, shoving him onto his back, dragging him closer, pulling him this way and that. He tears Carter’s shirt off of him – literally, he hears the threads rip – before hooking his fingers into his underwear and dragging them down his long legs.
Then Carter is stretched out before him like a goddamn buffet of seduction. He replaces his wandering hands with his mouth this time, licking and sucking and nipping at all of the sensitive flesh on his boy’s body. His calves. His inner thighs. The subtle creases of his pelvis. He noses along his too-thin stomach. Drags the tip of his tongue teasingly around his nipples.
“Please. Please, Nate,” the boy begs, his hips rolling against Nathan. “Fuck me.”
“Patience.” Nathan nips at Carter’s shoulder. His trap. His throat. The hinge of his jaw. There’s an animalistic part of himself that’s demanding that he mark this boy. Claim him as Nathan’s. Only Nathan’s. Always Nathan’s. “Mine. Mine, Carter. All mine. You’re mine.”
Nathan doesn’t even realize he’s saying those words out loud until Carter is panting them back to him. “Yours. Yours, Nate. All yours. I’m yours.”
“I want-” Nathan stops himself, biting down on Carter’s neck to keep f
rom speaking things he knows he’ll regret. He licks the mark, realizing it was a harder bite than he intended, but he doesn’t apologize for it. He doesn’t say a damn thing. If he speaks, he might admit to desires he’s promised himself to never give into.
“What?” Carter asks. “What do you want?”
Nathan wraps his hand around Carter’s cock, hoping to distract him. The boy moans and writhes and gasps, but he doesn’t drop it. “What do you want, Nathan?”
Shaking his head, Nathan presses his mouth over Carter’s to silence him.
It doesn’t work.
“Tell me,” he gasps. “Tell me, tell me, tell me.”
“I want to tie you up,” Nathan nearly growls. “I want to tie you to my bed frame and fuck you so hard you forget anything but me.”
Carter stills beneath him, staring up at him with wide eyes. Nathan’s heart stutters. “Carter, I-”
“Yes,” Carter says quickly, cutting him off. “Yes. That. Do it. Tie me up.”
With a shudder, Nathan pulls away from Carter and goes to his bedside table, opening the second drawer. His body is trembling with a need he’s quickly losing control of. There’s a steady panic rising in him, keeping his chest from fully expanding, keeping his lungs lacking in oxygen. He wants to do so many things to Carter. Things he’d never allow himself to do without the boy’s consent. Things that aren’t just to fulfill the expectations of his role as Nathan, but genuine desires of Travis’s. His fingers are unsteady as he strokes the red rope that’s looped and tied off in the drawer.
“I want to hurt you,” Nathan forces himself to admit. His throat feels impossibly tight. “I’d make you feel good, too. So fucking good. But I want to hurt you.”
There. He said it. Now Carter knows.
When he gets the courage to look over at Carter, he sees that the boy is watching him carefully. He’s not afraid. Not even nervous. He’s aroused, his cock still hard and leaking against his stomach, his lips wet and parted as he pants in anticipation. His cheeks are pink. So are the tips of his ears. His voice is merely a rasp when he speaks. “Yes. Yes, please. Nathan. Sir.”
Nathan grips the rope tight, heart in his throat. He forces himself to take in a deep breath and release it slowly as he sinks into the part of himself he doesn’t enjoy very much. The part of himself that’s still completely Travis, but looks an awful lot like Nathan. Like the monster.
