"You're gay?" Kirk exclaimed so loudly that the entire room stilled and looked over. Kirk laughed loudly. "You like having a cock shoved up your arse?"
"Shut up," Mason muttered.
"I told you to leave it," Alan hissed. "Ignore him, Mason. Kirk can be a real bastard at times."
"It's true, though, isn't it?" Kirk asked, his voice still loud enough to command the attention of the room. "You're into guys?"
"So?" Mason turned his head to glare at Kirk.
"So? I like to know when I'm dancing with a fag so I can make sure I don't bend over anywhere near them."
Mason bit down a glib comment; it wouldn't help.
"Is that why you keep staring at me?" Kirk pushed. "Because you fancy me?" A look of disgust crossed his face as he flicked his gaze up and down Mason's body. "First, you steal my part. Then you fantasise about buggering me? Fucking queer."
Mason pushed to his feet and walked away, tension filling his body. He headed outside, mostly to get some fresh air to clear his head, but also because he knew he'd end up punching Kirk if he had to listen to any more abuse.
"Hey," Gemma said from behind him. "Kirk's an idiot."
"Yeah, he really is." He leaned against the wall, tipping his face upwards to stare at the bright blue sky. He shivered despite the cloying warmth in the air.
"Want me to report him?" Gemma asked. "He shouldn't be able to get away with talking to you like that."
Mason shook his head.
"Mason…"
"It was a one-off."
"That's not true. The guy has a real problem with you. You've got to say something, or let me."
He shook his head again. The thing was, he knew she was right. He'd been bullied for long enough in high school to know that bullies didn't stop just because you didn't tell on them. If he kept quiet, Kirk would keep on finding ways to get under his skin. But he couldn't bring that much attention to himself. Whom would he tell? David? The lines between work and their private lives would get too blurred. Veronica? At some point, David would be telling her they were sleeping together, so he doubted he'd find much sympathy with her. Even if she did back him up, the only way to put a stop to what was happening would be to start disciplinary action against Kirk, which would likely end up with him being dismissed from the company. Mason couldn't do that to another dancer, not even to Kirk.
"I can handle it."
"Mason—"
"I said no, Gemma." He clenched his fists and breathed in deeply. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap."
"It's okay."
It really wasn't. "I don't want to cause any trouble," he said weakly. "I'm new. If Kirk gets reprimanded because of me, none of the other dancers will ever trust me again."
Gemma folded her arms. "If you want to talk, I'll listen," she said quietly. "Better to sound off to me than to punch the smirk off his stupid face."
"Thanks. I appreciate that."
"But, Mason…"
"Yeah?"
"If he doesn't let up, at least promise me you'll think about asking for help?" Her eyes narrowed when he kept quiet, not even nodding. "Men," she huffed. "The macho, emotionally repressed act is not even remotely attractive, you know."
That made him laugh. "Didn't Kirk shout it loud enough? I'm gay."
She shrugged. "Doesn't mean you're immune to testosterone or male toxicity." She turned to walk back inside, then paused and looked back over her shoulder. "You don't fancy him, do you? Because that would be all kinds of fucked up."
Mason shuddered at the thought. "No."
She nodded smartly. "Good. Are you coming back in? The break will be over soon."
"Yeah, in a bit."
"Don't be late."
He smiled in response to her concern. "I won't be."
Once she'd left him alone, he slumped down to the ground, his back still pressed against the wall. He was finding it hard to be his usual positive self. He wanted to focus on all the good things, to be excited about dancing for BalletEast and playing Puck. But he couldn't. Part of him didn't even want to be there anymore. He'd smiled his way through years of bullying in high school, so why was he letting Kirk drag him down?
He knew he was still close to burning out, that for all the positive steps he'd made over the last few weeks—eating better, sleeping better, putting weight back on—he still had a long road ahead of him before he was truly at the top of his game again. He felt like he was clinging to the edge of a cliff, only just able to hold on. Which meant Kirk's bullying was like a heavy foot slamming down on one of his hands. If he let Kirk get to him, he'd likely fall.
And maybe that wouldn't be so bad. Maybe taking a season off from dancing would do him some good. It would give him a chance to fully recover and to yearn for it. To remember exactly how much he wanted it.
Except he already knew how much he wanted it, and he didn't want to take a break. If he did, what would have been the point of leaving the dance company he adored working with? The company he was happy with? He could have simply asked to take a sabbatical, and they would have almost certainly let him.
His chest tightened. Maybe he'd made a stupid decision by leaving Emotion in Motion, but it was too late to take that back. Instead, he had to make the most of being at BalletEast. If that meant enduring Kirk's bullying, then he would. He'd do anything if it meant he could carry on dancing.
Anything.
Chapter Sixteen
David
David smiled at Veronica as he walked up to their reserved table. She stood, and they kissed each other's cheeks.
"Late as usual?" she quipped before taking her seat again. "I ordered us some wine. I hope that's all right?"
"Of course." He'd taken a taxi to the restaurant, knowing he'd end up drinking.
"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked.
"I can't invite an old friend to dinner without an ulterior motive?"
She leaned back in her chair. "We see each other every day. You don't need to invite me out to dinner to talk to me, which means you're trying to butter me up."
David let out an exaggerated gasp. "You wound me."
"Oh, please." Veronica snorted and waved her hand. "Don't be so dramatic, David." She picked up the menu and glanced over it. "Is there a problem with the production? Or with any of the dancers?"
"No. Rehearsals are going well."
"I'm glad no one is giving you any problems."
"They're not." He picked up his menu and quickly selected a beef dish in red wine sauce. "Are you ready to order?"
"I've been ready for about half an hour," she retorted, arching a heavily plucked eyebrow.
"I wasn't that late."
"Not quite."
They ordered their food when the waiter returned with the wine and then sat enjoying a glass and each other's company. She was right about one thing: he was trying to butter her up. He wanted her to be in as good a mood as possible before he told her about Mason. Not that she had the right to be angry with him, but she might be disappointed. He hoped not, but the only thing he truly cared about was making sure that their relationship didn't cause problems for Mason.
He sipped at his wine until their order arrived and then began to eat his food. It was wonderful, the meat melting on his tongue, the rich flavours combining to caress his taste buds. He wondered if Mason could cook a similar meal. The pasta dish he'd whipped up had been great. Maybe he should order his sub to cook for him and serve it off his own stomach rather than plating it up.
He had to smother the grin that threatened to spread across his face as he imagined himself eating food off Mason's body. He was going to have to bring whipped cream and strawberries into their sex life very soon.
"Is something amusing?" Veronica asked.
David chuckled. Not that he'd share the thought with her. "Just good food."
"Uh-huh." She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Come on, David. Dinner is lovely, but you do want something."
"I want to tell you
something," he agreed.
"Go on."
He met her stare and held it. "I'm sleeping with one of your dancers."
She stiffened and sat upright. Her hands dropped to her napkin and twisted it. "Which one?"
"Mason."
She pressed her lips together. "He's so much younger than you, David."
He shrugged. "He's a consenting adult."
"How long?"
"Since the start of the season."
"You work fast." She let out a little snort. "And if you break up?"
"We're both professionals. It won't affect the production or the company."
"What if any of the other dancers find out?"
"Why would they?"
She shook her head. "It's a possibility, David. I don't care how discreet you're being. There's a chance one of them will find out." She picked up her fork again and began to twist it into the spaghetti she'd ordered. "He's one of my best dancers, David. I don't want to lose him."
"That won't happen."
"Are you sure about that? Because he's the one who'll bear the brunt of all the backlash. The dancers won't say anything to you, but they'll give him hell. There's only so much I can do to protect him from it. Do you think he's strong enough to ignore that sort of pressure?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm not. You mark my words. If this comes out, he'll be gone by the end of the season."
"Are you asking me to break up with him?"
"I can't do that, David."
She looked pissed. Not that he could blame her. She'd asked him to choreograph for one season, and the first thing he'd done was fuck one of her dancers. She was bound to be concerned about repercussions, and she was right to be concerned. He was, too, but that didn't mean he was going to stop seeing Mason.
"Why are you telling me?" she asked eventually.
"We're getting more serious about our relationship. I thought it was the right thing to do."
She kicked up an eyebrow. "How serious?" She shook her head. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."
"No," David agreed. "It's not." He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. "I take it you're not going to tell anyone else?"
"I'm not a gossip, David. I have no intention of speaking to anyone about this. I just hope you know what you're doing, fooling around with someone who's half your age."
"That's what's bothering you?" David asked. He dropped his voice to a hiss. "Not that I'm fucking one of your dancers, but that there's a big age gap?"
She shrugged. "I'm not comfortable with either. But it is what it is, isn't it? I can't stop you from seeing Mason. I can't stop him from seeing you. You're doing nothing wrong—"
"Exactly."
"In terms of contractual obligations," she said hurriedly. "But I'm not comfortable with what you're doing."
David huffed out a breath. "You think I'm corrupting him?"
"Are you?" It was her turn to lower her voice. "Because I know what you're into, David."
"It's none of your business," he said in a cool tone.
"You are." She narrowed her eyes. "Don't leave any obvious marks on him, David. And don't screw with his head, do you hear me? I need all my dancers to be focused. I don't want this production being messed up because you can't keep your dick in your pants."
It was an effort not to laugh. "It won't. Relax, Ronnie."
"It had better not." She tossed her napkin over her unfinished bowl of pasta. "Anything else I should know?"
He shook his head.
"You had to pick someone in a leading role, didn't you?" She pushed her chair back from the table and stood. "Jesus, David, couldn't you keep your dick under control for once in your life?"
David smirked at her. "You didn't complain when it was in you."
Her face flushed red. "Bastard." A smile tugged at her lips despite her angry words. "I take it you're paying?"
"Yes."
"Good." She strode away, her head held high.
David smiled. She was mad, but she'd come round. Veronica had never been able to stay angry at him for long. They had far too much history.
He poured himself some more wine and cradled the glass in his hand. Now that he'd told her, he felt free to contact Mason. He half-closed his eyes, trying to decide what he wanted to do with the young man first.
Chapter Seventeen
Mason
Mason had just got out of the shower when his phone beeped with an incoming text message. It could have been from any number of people—his parents, his sisters, Adam, one of his friends from Emotion in Motion, even Gemma—but he only wanted it to be from one person. His body buzzed with anticipation as he grabbed his phone and opened the text.
It was from David. His hands shook as he read it.
—Be there in five minutes. Leave the door unlocked. I want you naked, in the bedroom. Don't disappoint.
It was an easy request, especially as he was already naked except for the towel around his waist. He unlatched the front door and then headed to his bedroom, but there he hesitated. Should he close his bedroom door or leave it open? Should he be standing or lying on the bed? Facing the door or with his back to it?
He took a deep breath, knowing he had to stop overthinking. He was both excited and nervous, and he guessed that was a completely natural reaction. Once they'd done this a few times, he would probably be horny as hell the moment he got a command from David.
The thought pulled him up short. Was he more comfortable with the whole submissive thing than he'd thought? He certainly wasn't thinking of this as a one-off.
Okay. Naked. He could do that. A part of him definitely wanted to do this. Curiosity bubbled up inside him, overpowering the quivering fear in the pit of his stomach. He trusted David. He had two ways to stop whatever they were doing if he wasn't comfortable with it. It would be fine. No, not fine, great.
He shut his bedroom door and then draped his towel over the radiator. Before he'd moved away from it, he heard the front door open. David didn't call out. Mason stepped into to the centre of the room and stood facing the door. He had no idea what to do with his hands, so he pressed them to his thighs. Should he look David in the eyes or bow his head? Was there a right or wrong thing he could do? He hated that he felt so clueless despite their two lengthy discussions, but he didn't have any more time to think. He caught his lower lip between his teeth as David opened the door.
David looked him up and down. "On your knees."
Mason dropped to his knees. Words hung on the tip of his tongue, but he bit them down. David was holding a black silk scarf twisted around his hands. Mason couldn't help but gulp as his gaze fell upon it. Was that for his eyes or… His thoughts turned to mush as David walked behind him.
"Hands behind your back." David's voice was deep and smoky.
Mason obeyed instantly.
"Lean forward. Arms high, wrists together."
Mason did as he was told. His pulse quickened as he felt the scarf being wrapped around his wrists. As he felt the first knot jerk tight, his cock twitched. When David secured a second knot, his cock went hard.
David's fingers twisted into Mason's hair, pulling his back straight and his head back. He pinched the skin at Mason's throat between his teeth, applying enough pressure to cause a small amount of pain. Then he let go and kissed the tender skin.
Mason's breath hitched in his throat. He felt like his heart might explode out of his chest, he was so wired. His cock ached when David moved to stand in front of him, slowly undressing.
When David was naked, he grabbed the back of Mason's head and held him tight as he rubbed his cock against Mason's face. Mason inhaled the musky scent of sex. Pre-cum smeared across his cheek. His chest quivered as he drew in a shuddering breath, almost alarmed at how turned on he was by letting David have complete control.
He almost whimpered as David moved away to grab a condom from the pocket of his discarded trousers. He rolled it onto his cock slowly, his mouth curling into a smile as he stared at Mason. C
ould the older man see the frustration that was building up inside him, plastered on his face? Probably. Mason could barely breathe as he guessed at what David would do next.
David's hands curled into Mason's hair again, tightening until Mason's skull ached with the pressure. He gasped, unable to hold it in. David dragged his head back so his throat was elongated. Then he paused, staring down into Mason's eyes for a few seconds, long enough for Mason to utter their safe word or blink out. He didn't do either. As crazy as it felt, he wanted whatever was about to happen next.
"Open your mouth," David ordered.
Oh, God, yes. Mason complied. He was ready when David shoved his gloved cock into his mouth. The condom was strawberry flavoured, which made Mason smile around David's dick. David stared down into his eyes. Although his face was hard, the older man's eyes were soft and caring.
"No teeth, or you'll be in a lot of trouble," he barked out before starting to thrust his hips.
David wasn't gentle. His cock hit the back of Mason's mouth with every powerful thrust. Mason couldn't move because David's grip on his hair was too fierce. He simply had to take it. Had to trust that David knew what he was doing and wasn't going to hurt him. And he did. He trusted David so much. He could see as they stared into each other's eyes how much the older man cared for him. Besides, it wasn't like Mason hadn't given David head before and taken him deep. He'd just had more control before. I am in control, he reminded himself. All he had to do was blink three times and David would stop, instantly. But he didn't want to. He was so turned on, he was almost ashamed.
David's thrusts became faster, harder, and more urgent. His breath degenerated into grunts of pleasure, and his lips parted as he breathed heavily through his mouth. He didn't close his eyes, didn't take his gaze off Mason as he rammed his cock as deep into Mason's mouth as Mason could take it. With each thrust, Mason's own arousal heightened. He could feel delightful pressure building in his groin and knew he was close to letting go, even though it didn't make sense that he should be.
Nothing made sense in those moments. He was tied up, his arms starting to ache from being immobilised. David's grip on his hair was painful. David's cock ramming into his mouth almost made him gag over and over. But he was turned on. He was finding all this intensely erotic.
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