by Nora Phoenix
"Yes, Sir," was Cornell's quiet but happy response.
To test him, Rhys slipped a finger underneath his waistband and trailed it from one side to the other. Cornell shivered in response, his skin breaking out in goosebumps, but even more beautiful was the little gasp he let out.
Rhys wanted to go further, but despite mentioning the color system briefly, he needed to make absolutely sure Cornell was on board with this. But outright asking him would break the scene. "You know, your ass looks really tense too," he said, keeping his voice light. "Maybe I should massage that a little as well."
Cornell took a few seconds to answer. "Maybe you should, Sir."
That was it. He had his permission now, and joy rushed through him all over again. That first time, Cornell had done much of the work himself, simply reacting to the sensual massage Rhys was giving him with seeking friction. This time, Rhys could give him a little more help, even though he doubted Cornell needed much. He'd already spotted the telltale movements of the man's hips subtly grinding against the table.
He dropped his hands lower, massaging Cornell's ass cheeks through the thin cotton fabric of his boxers. Cornell let out short groans, and Rhys smiled. "Something wrong?" he asked innocently.
"No, Sir."
Just when Rhys thought Cornell wasn't taking the bait, the man added, "I thought you might be able to do a better job if you took my boxers off. Sir."
"You telling me how to do my job now?" Rhys asked.
"I wouldn't dare, Sir. It was merely a suggestion."
Rhys smiled as he slipped his hands underneath the fabric, touching Cornell's bare skin on that gorgeous, strong ass. He was rewarded with a loud moan. He teased first, light caresses, and even those got a response from Cornell every single time. Then he started stroking him for real, finding those globes that fit so perfectly into his hands.
The funny thing was that he hadn't even been lying. There was some tension in there, but it melted away as he kneaded and stroked, caressed and touched. And oh, the wonderful concert of sounds that Cornell was producing. Little gasps and moans, grunts when Rhys was teasing him too much, sighs when he found a spot he hadn't reached before.
Cornell had spread his legs as wide as he could on the table, even pulling them up a little bit, the clearest invitation he could give, Rhys felt. "Do you like it when I touch your ass?" he asked.
He knew the answer, but he wanted Cornell to admit it. No matter where they would move after this. He had to have this experience.
"Yes, Sir."
"Are you an ass man?"
"I'm not sure what you mean, Sir."
Rhys loved how respectful Cornell was. Sure, he'd had years of experience and training, but the way he consistently addressed Rhys as Sir was intoxicating.
"Do you like it when someone plays with your ass? Does it turn you on, boy?"
That last word had tumbled out of his mouth before he realized it, and Rhys held his breath as he awaited Cornell's response. Had he gone too far? Would Cornell object to being called that by someone who was so much younger than him?
One, two, three seconds, and then Cornell spoke up. "Yes, Sir. Very much."
As if to underline his words, Cornell pushed his ass up at Rhys, and his fingers, still slick with massage oil, bumped against Cornell's hole. Rhys waited for him to freeze up, but instead, he moaned as if it was exactly what he'd been hoping for.
"Cornell," Rhys said, as much in warning as in want.
"Green, Sir," Cornell said, and he couldn't have given a more perfect answer. The fact that he was still aware this was a scene of some sort was encouraging. That meant they had boundaries and safeguards in place. All Cornell had to do was use his safe word, and everything would stop. Rhys had no intention of pushing him even close to his boundaries, but Cornell had all but invited him to do this, hadn't he?
To test him, he put his slick middle finger at the top of Cornell's crack. He felt him hold his breath in anticipation, but he didn't say anything. Very slowly, Rhys dragged his finger down, and when he was about to reach his hole, Cornell lifted his ass again.
Rhys couldn't help but chuckle. "Am I going too slow for you, boy? Or do I need to tie you down?"
Cornell breathed out audibly, bringing his hips back down. "No, Sir. Sorry, Sir."
Rhys heard genuine regret in his voice, mixed in with a tinge of fear, probably because he was scared Rhys would stop. He had absolutely no intention to, but wasn't it beautiful to see Cornell respond like this? One day, he would make him beg. If he was already so beautiful like this, how amazing would it be to hear him plead and beg?
"You know how this works, don't you, boy? Who's in charge here, me or you?"
"You, Sir," came the quick reply.
"If I'm not mistaken, your job is to take whatever I decide to give you, right?"
"Yes, Sir," Cornell said, subdued.
"Well, technically, I didn't tell you to keep still, so that was an error on my part. Since I'm feeling magnanimous, I'm going to give you permission to move now, okay? And remember, you have my permission to come."
As soon as he touched him again, Cornell's hips rolled, first in a downward move that brought his cock—which Rhys couldn't see but assumed was aching for more friction—into close contact with the table. But then he brought them up again, seeking Rhys's touch. And Rhys obliged, giving him exactly what he was searching for. He pressed his thumb against Cornell's hole, putting pressure on it without trying to breach him.
It took Cornell a few tries before he had a rhythm going, and Rhys moved with him, watching in rapt attention as the man pleasured himself. He now regretted he couldn't see his face, but he could picture it, those high cheekbones stained with a blush, those eyes glazing over as he started to chase his orgasm for real.
The rhythm increased, and so did Cornell's breathing, interspersed with little gasps and moans. He was getting close, and Rhys helped him by using his other hand to keep caressing his ass, teasing his crack, even as he held the thumb of his right hand firmly planted against that hole. God, he wanted inside him something fierce, his own cock protesting it wasn't being let in on the action, but that was way too fast, too soon. This was about Cornell, about giving him pleasure. His own dick could wait till later.
"Do you want me to stay, or do you want privacy to finish?" he asked when it was clear Cornell was about to come. The man hadn't said anything, but after everything that happened between them, Rhys wanted to make sure he was on board with this sudden escalation of intimacy between them.
"Stay," Cornell gasped, panting hard now. "Please, Sir."
And there it was, the word Rhys didn't think he'd be ever able to resist from Cornell. Please. He'd been right, the man was irresistible when he begged.
With his thumb still pressed against him, Rhys grabbed his neck with his other hand, then brought his mouth less than an inch away from Cornell's head. "Come for me," he commanded him.
The result was instant, Cornell's hips jerking twice, and then a long moan flew from his lips as his whole body shuddered. "Ungh!" he called out, a sound that hardened Rhys’s cock even more.
He removed his thumb from his ass, then started caressing his back with slow, gentle moves to bring him down. "That was beautiful," he said. "You are beautiful."
He was saying too much, maybe, but then again, he hadn't said enough for a long time, so maybe he was overdue. He kept mumbling sweet encouragements as he felt Cornell's body come down from its high.
"Do you want me to clean you up, do you want to do that yourself?" he asked when Cornell's body had stilled and his breathing had returned to normal.
He knew the answer before Cornell spoke, but couldn't help being disappointed when it was as he had expected. "I'll do it myself."
He could hear the distancing in his voice, and while it made total sense after an experience like that, it somehow hurt as well.
"Rhys," Cornell said, as if wanting to signal even more that as far as he was concerned, the scene was ove
r. "Thank you."
As he walked out, Rhys decided that it was enough for now. They’d taken another step. A big one.
10
Cornell kept his distance from Rhys the rest of the day. What was supposed to have been an experiment had turned into something far more. Sure, he'd known on some level he'd been playing with fire, allowing Rhys to massage him again. But he hadn't expected that.
His own reaction to Rhys's touch had still managed to surprise him, even after what Rhys had told him about how sensitive he thought Cornell was to it. Knowing it was one thing, but experiencing it was another. And he couldn't blame it on being sex-starved or something either, considering he'd come two days before. From the exact same thing, no less.
No, this could only be explained as him responding to Rhys, to his touch. What was even more sobering was that it wasn't merely his touch either. The way he had handled it, his voice, the things he had said to Cornell, it had all been exactly what he needed. He hadn't even realized how much he needed to get permission to chase that orgasm, to allow himself to feel it, and then to come, until Rhys had granted it.
Now everything had changed. Considering how relatively vanilla this had been, one could argue if it had constituted an actual scene or not, but Cornell's instincts said it had been. Rhys had presented himself as Dom and Cornell had responded as sub. There had been mentions of safe words. All the core elements were there, even if the actions themselves had been relatively innocent.
No, things would never be the same between them ever again. They'd crossed a line that was impossible to uncross. The only choice that was left was how to move forward, which brought his previous dilemma back to the front of his mind again. Should he stay or should he go?
He sipped the Earl Grey tea Rhys had brought him before he’d headed out to do some grocery shopping. Cornell had settled on the couch in the living room, somewhat relieved to have an hour or so to himself. Not that Rhys was bothering him in any way, but he had a big decision to make, and knowing that he had uninterrupted alone time helped.
There were plenty of reasons to go. He was slowly doing better, and he didn't think he needed round-the-clock care anymore, though he didn't trust himself to be on his own yet. The thought of having to climb stairs scared the crap out of him, so going home was not an option. But there were alternatives he could think of, even ones that didn't include moving in with his sister and her busy household.
Another reason was to give both himself and Rhys their privacy back. The incident yesterday morning when Rhys had almost walked in on him jacking off spoke volumes about how limited he was in his activities here, especially sexual ones. It wasn't like he could see himself engaging in anything serious soon, but he might want to start using some toys again. A man had needs, even if he was a little older and still recovering from surgery.
And Rhys, at his age, had to have needs as well that were hard to fulfill when Cornell was staying with him. Sure, he could go out to score, but maybe he felt he couldn't leave Cornell alone for so long. Granted, he had gone out to watch that scene with Ford, whatever that had been about. But Rhys's sense of responsibility was strong, Cornell knew.
There was the sense that he was imposing on Rhys, unintentionally requiring him to adapt his life to Cornell's presence. For fuck's sake, Rhys had even taken a leave of absence from his job. That had never been Cornell's intention. He couldn't stay so long that Rhys would start to resent his presence. He'd been here five days. Now, maybe that was a good time to leave.
He blew out a slow breath, allowing the truth to settle in his mind. All these reasons, they had nothing to do with the decision to stay or go. They were excuses, reasons his mind came up with to avoid thinking about the real issue at stake here. Him staying or going had zero to do with inconveniencing Rhys or being well enough to leave. The only deciding factor was what had happened between them.
After the way Rhys had deceived him by withholding the truth about being a Dom, Cornell had thought it impossible to ever trust him again. And yet today, he had given him that trust. Granted, it had only been a very limited scene, but he'd felt safe with him. The fact that Rhys had checked consent every step of the way had surely helped.
As much as Cornell wanted to deceive himself and focus on all those bogus reasons for leaving, he couldn't deny the truth. Something was happening between him and Rhys, something he had never expected or even considered. There was a spark between them, attraction. How the hell that was possible, Cornell had no idea, but he could at least acknowledge it.
And that was the bottom line, the sole reason for him to stay…or go. If he stayed, he knew where this chemistry between them would lead. You couldn't put a Dom and a sub who had this kind of spontaneous connection in the same house, in forced proximity, without expecting them to act on it. If he were to stay, he would end up playing with Rhys, submitting to him.
The question wasn't if the many reasons he could think of to leave were valid. The question was whether or not he had good reasons to stay. Was the connection between him and Rhys worth exploring?
His first instinct was, of course, to say no. How could it be, what with the age gap between them and more importantly, the fact that Rhys was Jonas's son. Technically, Cornell was Rhys’s godfather, no matter how limited he had executed that role over the years. He had known Rhys since the day he'd been born, and that was not so easy to brush off.
If only he could ask Jonas. That was the thought that made his heart clench painfully, bringing tears to his eyes. How was it possible that the one time where he needed his friend’s wisdom more than anything, his friend wasn't there? He needed Jonas's blessing, his approval, before he could do this.
Cassie, she would have an opinion on this, no doubt. Cornell liked her and certainly respected her as a Domme, but her opinion carried little weight with him. She'd been critical of choices Jonas had made before, and Jonas had ignored that as well. He'd always been crystal clear to Cornell about that, saying that the day she filed for divorce was the day she stopped having a say in his life and his choices. And he'd been right.
No, Cornell was pretty sure Cassie would have an opinion on it, and it wouldn't be a favorable one. But what would Jonas think? If he had been alive, what would he have said to Cornell? Would he have objected to the idea of his only son domming Cornell? It was easy to imagine he would've disapproved as well, and that was certainly Cornell's first emotional reaction, which almost made him decide to leave right then and there.
But then his mind prevailed, and he wiped the tears off his eyes, took another sip of tea, and leaned back on the couch again. Seriously, what would Jonas have thought? He closed his eyes, imagining his friend sitting right next to him. At first, the grief was so strong that he couldn't even think, too overcome with the sheer size of the empty place Jonas had left in his life.
"God, I miss you so much," Cornell whispered into the room. "How I wish you were here to tell me what to do."
He smiled at his own words, knowing that Jonas would never tell him what to do. All he would do was offer alternative viewpoints, playing devil’s advocate at times, but he would never straight up tell Cornell what to do. They both trusted each other enough to know the other one would make the right decision in the end.
Yes, Jonas would've trusted him to make the right decision. But what was the right call here? What if it hadn't been Jonas's son, would Jonas have had an opinion then? He’d never had an issue with an age gap, not even a reversed one. Hell, at their age, they had both constantly played with Doms that were younger than they were. Granted, not many who were in their early twenties, but they'd had a ten-year age gap more than once. That had never been an issue for Jonas.
So, the question was whether Jonas would've had a problem with the fact that it was his son. Would he have trusted Cornell to treat his son right? Now there was a question that brought a soft smile to Cornell's face. If Jonas had known Rhys was a Dom, he would've also known that it wouldn't be Cornell who took care of Rhys I
t would be Rhys who took care of Cornell. That was the role they would both be looking for, and Jonas would understand that.
Cornell remembered a couple they had met, years ago. It had been an older Dom with a young sub, the two beautifully in sync. Jonas and Cornell had watched a demonstration they gave, both enraptured at the Dom's skill and the sub’s complete submission. Only later had they found out the two were father and son.
When that news had broken, they had been banned from many clubs. Jonas had brought it up with Cornell, saying that while he understood that legally, the clubs had little choice, morally, he didn't have an issue with their relationship at all. “As long as they’re consenting adults, it's all good with me,” he had told Cornell, who had agreed with him.
Wasn't that true for everything they did? No matter what someone’s kink was, their fetish, the thing that got them off, there was no shame in it, as long as it was between consenting adults. They had both watched many things over the years that they themselves would never engage in, but that didn't mean they judged them. Just because it wasn't his kink didn't mean he had to judge or shame someone else for liking it.
And there was his answer. If he and Rhys started something, if they entered into a Dom/sub relationship, Jonas would've been okay with it. They were two consenting adults, both more than legal age, both with the knowledge and the experience in the scene to make an informed decision. Sure, Jonas would've needed some time to get used to it, probably, but Cornell couldn't imagine him judging it.
There was, of course, the added complication that Jonas had fucked him on several occasions. Never outside of scenes, because neither of them had any desire for that, but they'd certainly played plenty of times with the same Dom. If he and Rhys were to move into a sexual relationship within their D/s one, it would mean he would've shared a bed with both father and son. He had to admit that was a little weird, but not weirder than a lot of things he'd seen and even done over the years. Hell, weird was a relative term, the eye of the beholder and all that.
