Debug

by R. J. Moray

  Now, Jack grinned. “Channon is very well, thank you. He’s asked if I’d like to send him to Mistress Celestina’s for lessons.”

  Interesting. Nate leaned back in his chair, considering it. “Because he has a naughty schoolboy fetish?”

  “Because he wants to learn deportment.” Jack shook his head, his expression softer and fonder than Nate could really deal with. “He’s worried about looking like a fool at the graduation party Sir is throwing for his girl.”

  ‘Sir’ again. Jack’s insistence on calling Mr White that was weirdly worrying.

  Nate didn’t fully understand their relationship. His own relationship with Mr White had been pretty straightforward. Mr White had offered to teach him, and he’d been eager to learn. And he’d gotten to practice on Jack, which Jack had hated but pretended to enjoy to make Mr White happy.

  Back then, Jack would have done anything to make Mr White happy. Nate…was grateful to Mr White, in the way that he was grateful to his Computer Systems mentors in college. He didn’t put Mr White on some sort of pedestal, though. He was just a man with some weird ideas about service and submission that Nate really didn’t need.

  Not least of these was the concept of ‘graduation’. Mr White believed that all Dominants needed to serve a term as a submissive, in order to fully appreciate their position. He also believed that submissives should graduate from submission to dominance, as the natural progression of their kink journey. Those who did not were flawed, in his mind. Second best.

  And so, when he decided they were ready, Mr White would graduate his submissives, uncollaring them and encouraging them to dominate. If they were willing, he celebrated them. If they refused, he dismissed them. Either way, that was the end of their D/s relationship. That was what he’d done to Jack. And to Nate. That was what he always did.

  Nate had found the whole thing melodramatic and distasteful, and he didn’t bother to hide that now. “You mean the party where she loses his attention forever. Poor kid. What’s her name?”

  “Gloriana. But if she wants to be dominant, I don’t see how it’s a bad thing.”

  Of course Jack would defend ‘Sir’. “Yeah, but what if she doesn’t?”

  “Then she’s a consenting adult who agreed to this and can bear the consequences of her choices,” Jack said easily. He arched an eyebrow. “I take it you aren’t going, then?”

  “I haven’t decided. I’d need a date.”

  “You don’t, you know. Mr White always provides spare slaves for this kind of event. Anyway, I thought you had a date for play parties now.”

  Nate couldn’t help his smirk. “I don’t think one of Mr White’s soirees is Ewan’s idea of a good time.”

  “He didn’t have fun at Celestina’s?” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You walloped him pretty hard.”

  “I did. It was great. But it’s not his scene. To be honest, it’s not my scene either.”

  Jack’s expression was odd, a mix of things Nate couldn’t place. “I’m not sure that I know what your scene is any more. You don’t want to do high protocol; you don’t show off on stage. Is Mac really that shy?”

  Hah! Nate snorted. “Not even close. He just doesn’t care if anyone’s looking. Which means he’s not going to be good in public, not even for me.”

  “Messy,” Jack said, wrinkling his nose with obvious disdain. “So that display at Celestina’s was actual disobedience.”

  “No. I mean, yeah, but it’s more like…he told me he didn’t want to be obedient. I told him he could act out, and that if he did there would be consequences.” Nate shrugged, wondering what Jack would think. It was so far removed from the kind of thing Jack liked that he might not understand the appeal. “It worked for me. Pretty sure it worked for him.”

  “It sure sounded like it,” Jack agreed. He examined Nate for a long moment. “And you’re satisfied?”

  What kind of a question was that? Nate opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the sound of footsteps in the hall.

  Ewan appeared in the doorway and stopped dead. The expression on his face took Nate by surprise. Then he realized what Ewan could see from there—Nate sitting at his desk and Jack propped against the edge of it, practically in his lap. Jack was bent toward him, creating an intimate space, and they had both looked up at the same time when Ewan had interrupted. Did it look like there had been something to interrupt?

  It must have. Ewan recoiled. “I guess you’re busy,” he said, already leaning away from the door.

  “Jack’s just leaving,” Nate said. When Jack blinked at him, Nate gave him a ‘come on’ look, which seemed to penetrate. He straightened, tucking his jacket back to slide his hands into his trouser pockets. It was too casual, giving away too much to someone who knew him as well as Nate did.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jack said. “The brunch.”

  That fucking brunch. Nate flicked his fingers dismissively. “Sure, sure, come get me at ten.”

  Jack smiled. Too casual by far. He didn’t push past Ewan, just paused until Ewan moved out of the doorway. “Enjoy your evening,” he said, and then he was gone.

  There was an awkward silence. Nate tried to guess how mad Ewan was on a scale of one to ten. Seven? Was seven bad?

  “Come on in,” he said. When Ewan hesitated, he added, “Lock the door.”

  That seemed to do the trick. Maybe Ewan slammed the door a little, but he locked it, and slunk across the room only to stop just out of arm’s reach. “What was Nash doing here?”

  “Talking about Channon. It’s his favorite thing to do.”

  Ewan curled his lip. “Dirty old geezer.”

  “Hey, I’m older than him by like two months. Have some respect.”

  “Respect is earned,” Ewan scoffed. “What have you done for me lately?”

  “Gave you a boner to nurse all morning,” Nate said, summoning Ewan closer with a waggle of fingers. “You should be grateful.”

  Ewan huffed and let himself be caught and pulled in between Nate’s thighs. “You promised me you’d make me a project lead. I haven’t seen an email go round.”

  “You haven’t earned it yet.”

  Ewan stiffened, glaring at Nate hotly. Then he shuddered, closing his eyes for a moment, and said, “What do I have to do? Sir.”

  “I think you know,” Nate told him, warming to the role of ‘tyrannical boss about to commit a sex crime’. “You have a sexy mouth.”

  Ewan exhaled, a sharp gust of air. “I bet you say that to all the boys.”

  “It’s much sexier when you’re not talking,” Nate said, and Ewan made a rough sound, his hands clutching at his thighs.

  Nate caught him by his tie—the knot was crooked, the whole thing twisted. Nate crushed it in his palm and tugged Ewan down and Ewan went, his knees buckling. He hit the floor with a thump, and the anguished look he shot over the buckle of Nate’s jeans made Nate feel…okay, it was hot but it worried him.

  “Color, Ewan,” Nate murmured.

  Ewan bared his teeth. “Here’s your fucking color,” he snapped, and then he had his hands on Nate’s belt, tugging it open with rough jerks of his hands.

  He was gentler with Nate’s cock, but no sooner had he taken it out than he’d sucked it into his mouth. Nate was soft, and the sudden hot wetness of Ewan’s mouth was a thrill. He felt himself thicken as Ewan worked him with his tongue. This was fast and messy, like Ewan wanted to get it over with, like this was the chore he pretended it was. But Nate heard him moan, and knew it was part of the fantasy. He wound his free hand in Ewan’s hair, making a fist in it, and Ewan whimpered like a masochist getting exactly what he wanted.

  It didn’t take much. Nate loved Ewan’s mouth and Ewan loved Nate’s cock. Nate twisted Ewan’s tie around his hand, encouraging him down, and Ewan slid down to take all of him in, his throat tight and hot and perfect.

  “God, you’re so good at this,” Nate sighed, watching the slide of Ewan’s lips over his rigid flesh. Ewan threatened him with the scrape of tee
th, and Nate flicked his earlobe, hard. “Don’t you dare.”

  There was a muffled chuckle, and suction, and Nate tightened his grip on Ewan’s hair, fucking up into his mouth because this was his, Ewan was his, and in this game Ewan needed to earn his ‘promotion’.

  “That’s a good boy,” Nate said, earning him an angry noise and the upward flick of Ewan’s glare. “Keep doing that. You look good on your knees. Maybe I should leash you down there, get you to keep my dick warm for me while I’m in one of Jack’s fucking conference calls.” At the mention of Jack, Ewan’s lips tightened. “Yeah? You’d like that? Sucking me off while I pretend to listen to clients complaining about the code you write for me? Fuck, Ewan,” he gasped, because Ewan had gone down, swallowing Nate’s cock with an aggressive hunger that shot want through Nate’s balls. “You’d have to take every drop of it, swallow and sit still, like a perfect little angel. Can you do that?”

  He dragged Ewan off his cock by the hair, freeing his mouth to answer. Ewan panted, his lips red and swollen. “No,” he growled.

  Nate grinned. “I’m going to come on your face.”

  “Now, or in your dreams?” Ewan demanded, his breathing ragged. God, he was beautiful like this, belligerent and begging for it.

  Nate cradled Ewan’s skull in his palm and let go of his tie to slap him sharply across the cheek. “Show some respect.”

  Shuddering, Ewan licked his lips. “Sir,” he said.

  “Better,” Nate told him. He wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking himself and watching Ewan’s cheeks bloom red. Ewan twitched, his hands clutching in and out of fists against Nate’s thighs, tongue darting out of his mouth to lap the head of Nate’s cock hungrily. Nate let him have it, let him suckle as he brought himself up to the edge. “Open your mouth,” he ordered, and Ewan flashed him a rebellious look but did as he was told. That obedience was such a fucking thrill, to have reckless, bratty Ewan on his knees, wet lips parted, waiting, just because Nate told him to. Nate groaned, stroking himself past the point of no return, his orgasm spilling out of him in thick throbs. He painted Ewan’s face with come, splashing it across his lips, his tongue, his cheek, until he was dripping with it, red-cheeked and panting.

  God, he was lovely. Messy and lovely. “Good boy,” Nate said, smearing his thumb across Ewan’s sticky mouth. Ewan moaned, his eyes fluttering shut, and closed his mouth on Nate’s thumb to suck. Still hungry. Fucking gorgeous. “Want me to touch your dick, baby?”

  “Yeth,” Ewan mumbled through a mouthful of thumb.

  “Then get up here,” Nate demanded, and Ewan surged to his feet. Nate dragged him into his lap, Ewan’s back to his chest, as the chair dipped alarmingly to accommodate him. Nate steadied him with a hand on his belly, the other working Ewan’s belt.

  “If we break this chair,” Ewan growled as Nate worked his trousers down.

  Nate chuckled. “It’s rated for 500 pounds—I think it can handle your skinny ass.”

  The look Ewan cast over his shoulder was doubtful, but Nate didn’t care. That was his come on Ewan’s chin and Ewan’s dick in his hand, and the sound Ewan made as Nate fondled him was obscene. He was stiff as a rod. Nate swept his thumb over the tip of Ewan’s dick, gathering the liquid beading in his slit. Ewan whined and bucked into his palm, and Nate laughed, squeezing him hard to hear him yelp.

  “If you want to come,” Nate said, enjoying himself, “you’re going to have to tell me why you deserve it.”

  “I sucked your dick,” Ewan snapped. “You came on my face.”

  “That was for the project lead. You’ve earned that. It’s yours. I’ll tell the team in the morning.”

  Ewan squirmed in Nate’s lap. With his trousers around his thighs the bare skin of his ass rode against Nate’s spent cock. “Nate,” he whined. “Let me come.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Because, you bastard,” Ewan snarled, “I’ve done what you wanted. I played your stupid game. I went to that fucking tea party with you, and I didn’t come for a week because you said, and, and if you don’t let me come now, I swear to God I will bite you!”

  God, he was furious, and Nate loved it. He covered Ewan’s mouth with his palm. “Go on, then,” he said. “Bite me.”

  For a moment he didn’t know if Ewan would do it. Then, with a savage noise, he did. The pain was immediate and excruciating, and Nate hissed through his teeth sharp enough that Ewan let go, panting hard.

  I deserved that, Nate thought, but the adrenaline rush of it had been worth it. Plus. Now he got to do whatever he liked with Ewan, and they both knew it.

  “You little shit,” he muttered in Ewan’s ear, and then he caught Ewan’s tie and twisted it around his hand again until his fist was against Ewan’s throat. “Don’t imagine you’re going to get away with that.”

  “I was following orders,” Ewan gasped, but he didn’t get much further than that. Nate worked Ewan’s foreskin over the head of his cock, stroking him through it because (unlike Jack, presumably) he didn’t keep lube in his desk. It would have to do. The way Ewan was rocking into it, he wouldn’t need much. Ewan’s fingers closed on Nate’s arm, his nails biting sharp and painful. Nate was going to have to make him file them down. And get a haircut. Christ, he was scruffy.

  “Unbutton your shirt,” Nate commanded. Ewan did it, hands shaking. “Get your collar out of this ugly fucking tie.” Ewan did that too, as best he could. He was panting in shallow, high-pitched huffs, the tension in his thighs evidence of how close he was already. “Pull your shirt down your shoulder.”

  “What?”

  “Did I give you a fucking order?” Nate demanded, squeezing his handful of dick, and Ewan squeaked, pulling his shirt down to bare his shoulder. “Better,” Nate said, and then he set his teeth to Ewan’s trapezius.

  He bit down hard. Ewan cried out. Nate let go of the tie to cover Ewan’s mouth, pinching his nose shut. Ewan bucked against him, his hips jerking as he spilled over Nate’s fingers, his whole body shaking. Nate let Ewan breathe but kept a hand over his mouth until he’d gone still, inhaling deeply through his nose. Then Nate licked the teeth marks in Ewan’s shoulder, and Ewan tried to elbow him in the ribs.

  Laughing, Nate let him go. “How was that?”

  The glare Ewan turned on him was ruined by how ruined he looked. He was smeared with come; Nate ran his hand up Ewan’s belly under his shirt, rubbing more come into his skin, and Ewan tried to protest but it was so weak. He was still trembling. God, he looked like Nate had fucking wrecked him.

  “Baby boy?” Nate prompted, his heart pounding. “Talk to me.”

  “That,” Ewan ground out in a voice gone raspy and ragged, “was okay.”

  Hah. Nate kissed his neck, and Ewan turned in to nuzzle him stickily. He found Nate’s mouth, and Nate kissed him, inhaling the scent of him, of their come, of Ewan’s sweat and cheap shampoo. “Yeah, I thought it was okay,” Nate agreed, his heart still racing. He teased Ewan’s lip with his tongue. “You make a very hot office slut.”

  “That wasn’t ‘office slut’,” Ewan argued. “That was sexual fucking harassment.”

  “Did you like it?”

  Ewan swallowed, and then he nodded, glancing at Nate from beneath eyelashes the color of wet sand. “Aye.”

  “I’m going to have a bruise,” Nate said, holding up his hand. Two arcs of teeth marks bracketed the ball of his thumb. It hurt worse on the side where Ewan had crushed his teeth against the bone. “I don’t think you get to come again until it’s healed.”

  This, predictably, made Ewan bristle. “You put your bloody hand in my mouth and told me to bite you,” he protested. “Maybe you shouldn’t get to come until my fucking neck heals!”

  “We both know that isn’t going to happen.” Nate wrapped a hand around Ewan’s throat and squeezed him. “In fact, I think I might make you watch me come, when you can’t do anything to get yourself off. How does that sound?”

  “Like hell,” Ewan grumbled, but he’d gone limp against Na
te’s chest. Nate wrapped both arms around him and held on, resting his brow against Ewan’s temple. Ewan sighed. “Are you cuddling me?”

  “Yes. Deal with it.” More grumbling but no squirming, which Nate took as an invitation to continue. “Hey,” he said. “Did you want to go to Celestina’s Academy? They do sexy submission lessons.”

  Ewan scoffed. “Sub school? No thanks.”

  “You sure? Channon’s going. I figured he might like some company.”

  For some reason, Ewan stiffened. But then he settled into Nate’s arms like he meant to stay there. “I’d rather swallow razor blades.”

  “Kinky,” Nate said. He kissed Ewan’s hair. “Maybe too kinky for my blood.”

  “You’re the kinkiest motherfucker I know,” Ewan sighed. “There’s something wrong with you, I swear to God.”

  Was that true? Nate didn’t know. “You love me anyway,” he said aloud, and Ewan snorted but didn’t answer.

  Chapter 4

  On the Monday after Nate’s office power trip, Ewan woke up to a hard on and a snapchat of Nate’s fading bruise. He groaned and rolled onto his belly, sick of Nate’s stupid abstinence rules.

  It wasn’t fair. It felt completely unreasonable. It was Ewan’s dick. He could do what he liked with it. Nate didn’t own him.

  Or did he? Ewan pressed his face into his pillow, thinking about Nate’s hand around his throat, how it felt to wear the collar Nate had given him, and to do as Nate told him.

  Wanna have some fun? Nate had asked him, the first time he’d put the collar on. Ewan had said, Yes, Sir, and it had been wonderful to give it all up to him, a long, slow unravelling of himself as Nate took him carefully to pieces.

  But that had been in December, and now, a month later, Ewan didn’t know how he felt about it. The collar, for all he liked wearing it, was temporary. Nate had made that clear. Intellectually, Ewan knew that it was because Nate didn’t want to give him a permanent collar and then take it away.

  Like Gary had done. Ewan’s thoughts skittered away from Gary like water on a hot skillet. He didn’t want to think about Gary, and what it felt like to have the security of a collar ripped away from you like someone was tearing out your heart.