by T. J. Hamel
Carter shakes his head, not even to argue, but to - to - he doesn’t even know. He just keeps shaking his head. He sobs too.
And then he comes.
He comes with his back bowed, tears falling down his cheeks, Nathan fucking up into him with abandon. He comes as Nathan releases him, his body turning to jelly, falling forward until he’s lying limp against the mattress. He comes until he feels emptied of everything but Nathan’s cock that continues brutally fucking him.
Carter finally manages to catch his breath when his orgasm tapers off. Nathan bites down on his shoulder, pulling a hoarse shout from him. Then Carter is fucking coming again.
Things go fuzzy then. Blissfully fuzzy.
The only thing that makes its way through his sex-induced haze are three words. “I love you.”
And Carter’s vocabulary returns with some words of his own. “I love you, too.”
◆◆◆
I love you, too.
Nathan stands at the sink after wiping himself down, hands braced on the counter, weight leaning forward. He can’t stop staring at his reflection. At the man in the mirror. The man that Carter Beckett loves.
I love you, too.
He can still taste the boy’s salty-sweet skin on his tongue. He can still feel the way he shivered against him. The way he writhed beneath his hands. He can still hear his soft moans and whimpers. His gasps. His begging.
His confession.
I love you, too.
Nathan doesn’t think he’ll ever stop hearing that confession.
I love you, too.
Nathan splashes his face with cold water, hoping to snap himself out of this spiral Carter has suddenly plunged him into. Maybe he should blame himself. He was the one to confess his love first, after all.
But he’s said it before. He had no idea the boy was going to throw his entire existence for a fucking loop by saying the words back. He’s never said them back. He’s never even remembered Nathan saying them at all.
I love you, too.
“Fuck.” Nathan dries his face with a hand towel. “Fuck. Fuck.”
I love you, too.
Nathan does the responsible thing. He collects his supplies - a bowl of warm water, a fresh cloth, the med kit Benny gave him - and heads back into the bedroom. Carter is sprawled out on his back, limp but awake. He gives Nathan a sleepy smile, though his eyes hold apprehension. “Sir?”
I love you, too.
“Still Nathan,” Nathan promises, knowing that’s what his boy is afraid of. “I’m going to clean you up and check how you’re healing, alright?”
The boy’s smile widens.
I love you, too.
Nathan gently washes the boy’s chest and stomach, then his soft cock and balls. He turns him over and washes between his ass cheeks. He presses kisses over the soft, pliant globes of flesh. He presses kisses over every bruise and healing cut. He presses kisses on each individual knob of his spine.
“Gonna make me fall ‘sleep,” the boy mumbles, his eyelids heavy as he looks at Nathan over his shoulder.
I love you, too.
“Just let me put some of the salve on. Then you can fall asleep if you’d like.”
“Mmm’kay.”
I love you, too.
Nathan smoothes the cool gel over the boy’s wounds. Then he covers his hands with some lotion and begins to massage all of his uninjured areas, starting with his neck and working all the way down to the boy’s feet.
Carter is practically purring.
I love you, too.
Nathan cleans up and climbs into bed beside Carter, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Carter wiggles and releases a happy little sigh.
How the fuck is Nathan lucky enough for this boy to love him?
“Are you sure you’re okay? After everything?” Nathan gently pushes Carter’s messy hair off his forehead. “You can be honest with me. It won’t do any good for us to just pretend nothing happened.”
Carter frowns, his eyes blinking a little harder than they should. Nathan isn’t sure if it’s from exhaustion or a fight against tears. Both send waves of guilt through him.
“You put me in the dark again," Carter finally says, his voice thin and reedy.
“What? When did I do that?”
“The blindfold.” Carter’s eyes slide shut, his chin dipping. “I tried to tell you. I don’t know if you heard me. Or - or if you even cared…”
Words, faded and buried beneath Nathan’s panic and grief from the time, flit through Nathan’s mind. No, not the dark, not the dark, sir, please, not the dark. Nathan’s heart wrenches in his chest, the realization of what he's done a fucking sucker punch.
“Oh, Carter...” Nathan nudges a loose fist beneath the boy’s chin, needing to look at him. Carter doesn’t fight it, showing Nathan his big blue eyes. He blinks. Fat tears fall down his cheeks. “It hadn’t registered. I remember you saying that, I do, but at the time - fuck, sweetheart… it hadn’t registered. I didn’t mean to.”
“Oh…”
“You just kept looking at Casey, and I - I needed you to stop that. I couldn’t let you do that to yourself.”
Carter nods, looking away from him again. Nathan allows it. He even moves away from the boy to give him space. “I’m sorry, Carter.”
“Yeah.” Carter forces a smile, but it’s weak. Thin. He lets it fall right after. “I get it. It’s fine…”
With a sigh, Nathan lays back on the bed and stares up at the ceiling. He hates himself. Fucking despises himself. “It’s not.”
“No. It’s not.”
An awful silence stretches out between them then. That’s why Nathan startles when a body suddenly presses up against him. Nathan holds his breath, the air expelling from his lungs with a single shudder when he feels Carter’s lips drag across the bare skin of his chest. The boy’s breath is warm as he whispers against him, “Your heart is pounding.”
“I know.” Nathan swallows hard, tentatively wrapping his arm around Carter. The boy melts against him. It does something dangerous to Nathan.
“Are you upset?”
“No. God no.” Nathan releases a shaky little laugh. “I’m perfect. I’m right where I want to be.”
Carter sighs softly at that, his body slumping a bit. "Sometimes it hurts to hear you say things like that…"
"What? Why?"
"I don't know. I feel like…" Carter presses harder against him. “I feel like I’m always a breath away from losing you, and you’re not even mine to lose.”
“I am, Carter. I’m 100 percent yours to lose.”
Carter is quiet for a long time. Long enough for Nathan to think he's fallen asleep. Then, quietly, he asks, "Did you tell me you love me? Just now, when we finished?"
Nathan sighs. "Yes."
"This wasn't the first time, was it?"
It's phrased less like a question and more like a statement, but Nathan answers anyway. "No. I've said it before."
"Oh." Carter releases a shaky breath. "I thought I had imagined it."
"No. I've loved you for quite some time now."
"Yeah…" Carter turns then, resting his chin on Nathan's chest. His eyes are glassy. "Me too."
Something catches inside Nathan. It's akin to the sensation of falling during a training course, plunging to your death for a second before your harness' fail-safe kicks in and jerks you to a halt.
"Really?"
"Yes." Carter runs a fingertip along Nathan's lips, tracing them. "I hate myself for it, but yes."
"I'm sorry."
Carter gives Nathan a smile that is far too easy and happy for a boy that's been through as much as Nathan has put him through. "There's no point in talking about it or even apologizing. It is what it is."
"How do you do that?" Nathan asks in awe.
"Do what?"
"Be so positive. Happy.”
The look Carter gives him makes him regret the question. “You don’t want me to break. And - and I don’t think I want to break either. So,
I have to be like this. It’s the only way I’ll survive.”
That’s the difference between them, Nathan realizes. Nathan shut himself down to survive. He put Travis in a box and replaced him with a monster. Carter is hanging onto himself to survive. He’s clinging to his humanity and refusing to let it be taken from him. What does that say about Nathan?
What does it say about Carter?
Not for the first time, Carter’s strength leaves Nathan breathless. He doesn’t know how he got this lucky. Meeting Carter has been like a fucking religious experience. Carter makes him question everything he’s ever thought. Carter makes him want to be Travis again for the first time in years. Carter gives him fucking hope.
"This was your first time saying it," Nathan says carefully. "That you love me, I mean."
"Is it? I wasn't sure. I've… thought it before."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm." Carter nibbles on his bottom lip, not exactly meeting Nathan's eye. "Did you tell me you loved me at the party? After my punishment?"
"Yes."
"Wasn't Benny there?"
"Not close enough to hear." Nathan laughs, short and dry. "Though I'm quite certain he's figured it out."
Carter frowns at that, his gaze finally meeting Nathan's. "Isn't that dangerous?"
"No. I trust Benny with my life. With your life. But if anyone else found out, then yes, it'd be dangerous. Deadly."
The boy shudders before tucking his face against Nathan's side and relaxing again. Nathan wraps his arm around him and pulls him nice and close, being careful not to touch him in any of his majorly injured places as he slowly begins to stroke patterns onto his bare skin. Carter sighs contentedly.
"Nate?"
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
"I'm a little hungry…" the boy's voice trembles, his shoulder curling inward. It kills Nathan that Carter's instinct is still to fear him. He'd give anything to change that. "Do you think maybe I could have a little snack?"
I told you I love you, Nathan wants to say. Why are you so afraid to ask for food when I just told you I love you?
But Nathan doesn't say that because he knows the truth; Carter will never trust him. Not enough. Not fully. He'll always be the monster. Even if now he's the monster in love with Carter, the monster that Carter loves, he's still the monster.
Nathan will never get to be anything but the monster.
"I'll get us some food," Nathan says in an awfully thick voice. "How about you get the next Harry Potter movie ready for us. If you think you're awake enough?"
Carter sits up then, grinning wide at him. There's no trace of fear in his gaze. No apprehension. The boy is purely happy. Nathan wishes he could press pause on the feeling. He wishes he could live in it with Carter forever.
◆◆◆
"Hey, Nathan?" Carter asks as the movie credits begin to roll.
"Yeah, sweetheart?"
Carter rolls onto his side and looks at Nathan, frowning. He's not sure how far his Carter freedom goes. Part of him needs to find out. Part of him is too afraid to.
As if Nathan can sense this, which he probably can because he always seems to just know, Nathan encourages Carter. "Go ahead. I promise you won't get in trouble."
"I was just wondering if-" Carter trails off, the memory of Nathan slamming him into a table resurfacing. It's followed closely by the memory of the man flogging him bloody.
Then the memory of Casey. All those men. Hurting him. Raping him. Maybe even… killing him.
"Hey," Nathan says softly, reaching for Carter. His hand goes up in surrender when Carter jumps at the touch. "Carter, sweetheart, are you okay?"
"Yeah." Carter clears his throat and forces a shaky smile. "I'm fine."
"Carter-"
"It was just a bad memory," Carter explains, hoping Nathan will let it go. "Just - just left the bedroom for a minute."
"And went where?"
Carter looks away and shakes his head. "I'd like to not think about it, please."
It takes Nathan a second, but then he's whispering a broken, "Oh."
Arms wrap around Carter, pulling him in close. He tucks his face in the curve of Nathan's neck and breathes him in.
"Please tell me what you wanted to say."
Carter holds onto Nathan a little tighter. "The slave from the party. The one I hugged. I was wondering if you know if he's okay?"
Nathan sighs in resignation, as if he'd been expecting that. "Casey, you mean?"
"Yes, sir."
"Casey is alive, if that's what you're asking. I'm not sure if okay is a word I'd use, but I have a feeling things will be changing for him soon anyway. For the better."
Carter goes still. "What does that mean?"
Nathan smirks. “Someone new will be taking care of Casey. Someone much better.”
“Oh.” Carter pauses, licking his lips. He meets Nathan's gaze. The man looks relaxed, his lips having softened to an easy smile, his eyes warm and kind. It's enough to give him the confidence to ask, "Do you think I'll ever see him again?"
"Yes. With his new owner, you'll see him again."
"You know who’s buying him?"
Nathan’s lips twitch. "In a way."
Carter really wishes he could demand Nathan stop being so fucking cryptic. He would never, though. Not just because of the punishment it'd earn him, but also because he doesn't want Nathan to stop answering his questions. He still has so much to ask.
Turns out, Nathan has questions too. "How do you know Casey?"
"We were in the cell together."
"The cell?"
"Yes." Carter focuses on the blanket beneath his fingers, not allowing his mind to drift back to that place. "The cell the man who took us kept us in until the auction. Or, well, not in my case, but I think everyone else stayed there until they were sold or whatever."
"You two were cellmates, then?"
Carter scoffs. "Well, us and, like, 15 others."
Something complicated passes through Nathan’s expression before his face goes deceptively blank. "All in one cell? 15?"
"The numbers were always changing, but yeah."
"How big of a cell?"
"I guess like a jail cell? I've never been to jail, but that's what I'd assume they're like. It had metal bars like a jail cell, but we weren't at a jail. We were… I don't even know. Somewhere damp. Dark." Carter shudders. Don't think of the dark. "There was a light bulb that hung in the hallway, so not… dark."
"Yes, I saw that cell. He kept you all in there the whole time? That wasn't just where he kept everyone during processing?"
Carter flinches. He can't help the betrayal that seeps into his voice when he asks, "What do you mean you saw that cell?"
When Nathan hesitates, Carter forces himself to look at the man. He wishes he hadn't. It takes a lot to make Nathan look guilty, and right now, he looks downright remorseful. "He sent pictures of you."
"Oh." Carter tries to swallow, but his throat refuses to work properly. He remembers pictures being taken of him. The bright pops of light bursting at him in between traumatizing moments. They had sent those pictures to Nathan? "You got them when you - when you bought me? Like a… gift?"
"No. They were a part of your advertisement."
Carter doesn't so much as flinch this time as he recoils. He can't look at Nathan. "An advertisement."
"You must have known something like that happened, Carter. Men didn't just show up and get the pleasant surprise of finding out you were for sale. Hell, even normal auctions have advertisements. There are encrypted websites the sellers set up. It shows each slave's profile, including background, pictures, videos -"
"Stop," Carter begs. "Please stop."
Nathan does as asked, going quiet. The heavy silence is almost worse.
Carter squeezes his eyes shut, forcing himself to focus. Casey. They're talking about Casey. If he wants more information on his friend, he has to answer Nathan's questions.
"I met Casey in the cell. We bonded over helping a little bo
y who missed his - his m-mom." Carter laughs dryly at himself as he digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. He's going to cry again. He's so fucking sick of crying. Carter growls in frustration as the tears force their way out regardless of his fruitless attempts to keep them away.
"Carter?"
"Never mind. I can't - I don't want to talk about it anymore."
"Did you say a little boy was with you?"
Carter breathes out angrily through his nose. "I just said I don't want to talk about it!"
"Hey, look at me." Nathan’s voice grounds him. It's cold. Hard. It leaves no room for Carter to do or feel anything besides what Nathan allows. Carter opens his eyes, finding that Nathan’s expression matches his tone. "How little was this boy?"
"Please," Carter begs. "I don’t wanna talk about it, Nate."
Nathan's face and tone soften, but he continues to push. "Carter, this is important."
"I don’t-" Carter stops himself. If he tells Nathan, maybe he can ask for more information of his own. Maybe he can ask about Elliot. Maybe he knows something like he knew something about Casey. "I don't think he ever said. Young. Too fucking young.”
“That fucker.”
Carter flinches at the tone of Nathan’s voice. If he thought it was cold and hard before, that was nothing compared to now. “What?”
“He’s not supposed to be doing that. Selling children.” Nathan huffs. “That sneaky piece of shit. There weren't any at the auction. None in the group photo of the cell either. That bastard."
“Is that your moral line?” Carter asks sarcastically. “Rape adults, but no children?”
Nathan’s eyes flash at him. “No. It’s just not his market. He must be selling them under the table. I’m not the only one who would be pissed if they found this out. He’s breaking the rules.”
“There are rules?”
“Yes. Absolutely. Otherwise it’s all fucking chaos.” Nathan points a finger at him. “And chaos gets you caught.”
“Who makes the rules?”
“Us. The major players. Me. Hanson. Miller. Saint-Pierre. Quinton.”
“And you decide who gets what markets?”
“In a way. We agree amongst ourselves. It’s like a social convention. No one has it written down that this market or that market belongs to a certain someone, but it’s just understood. That’s not to say that everything is concrete, by any means. I’ve been collecting markets since I took over here. There used to be 9 major players at the table. We’re down to 5. I’m hoping to get it down to 4. If I have my way, I'll control almost the entire north-western hemisphere."
