Paper Doll - Part Four of Ten
Sep. 15th, 2011 06:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sonora_conejaPairing: Face/OMC, Hannibal/Face
<Pairing: Face/OMC, Hannibal/Face
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mentions of domestic violence and underage
Summary:
Templeton and John reach an understanding about the nature of their relationship...
“You have a good night, Mr. Templeton?”
It was the first time Bosco had spoken since picking him up almost an hour ago.
Templeton lifted his head off his hand and instantly missed the pressure of his thumb against his forehead. His brain felt cottony, his mouth dry, his body weary. After he’d given Charisa her second orgasm of the night, she’d fallen asleep, fucked out, inebriated, at peace. He’d watched her for a moment and gone back to the card game with the rest of the men. Stayed there and played and thought.
But not about John, about how it would feel if he could feel him again, about what he would ask if he could ask it. About whether or not John would speak to him again. About whether or not he could bear up under his shame and speak to John, after the way he’d insulted him the day before. An entire night of torment, until Bosco came with the car and he finally got to leave.
“Yeah, yeah, Bosco, it was fine,” Templeton replied, staring at the floor.
“Fine,” the big negro grunted. “What that mean, Mr. Templeton? Good time or bad time?”
Bosco, Templeton had learned in his months at the estate, wasn’t just a driver. He also handled most of the mechanics for the estate, did all the vehicle maintenance himself, and on the weekends, when the he wasn’t taking the Colonel into town, he’d showed Templeton a thing or two about engines. For such a large man, he seemed quite gentle. But when he latched on to something, he didn’t back down.
“I don’t really know,” he admitted.
“Seem like you never know.”
He laughed a little, tastng the remnants of gin on his breath, smelling smoke in his clothes. “Yeah, well. That happens.” He raised his eyes to the windshield of the Rolls. They were almost home. Home. Like he’d thought of the night before, but watching it approach, he wasn’t sure. Was last night the price of being here? Did he want to pay that? Templeton couldn’t answer that, and he shook his head, trying unsucessfully to clear it. “Did the Colonel get to work alright?”
“You know I take good care o’ the Colonel, Mr. Templeton,” Bosco replied and nodded as they approached the front entrance. “He fine too. Then I come pick you up. Everythin’ fine.”
“Good,” Templeton said. He was tired, that was all. Just tired. He needed a bath and a good nap and time to come up with a good accounting of the night for the Colonel, so his concerns could be assauged... “That’s good.”
Bosco looked at him, back over his shoulder, and didn’t say anything.
The big car slid to a stop, motion halted, and Templeton was grateful for that. His head was starting to pound. But he didn’t realize they were in Bosco’s spotless garage, around back of the house, until the chauffeur opened the door for him.
“We home, Mr. Templeton.”
“I wish you’d just call me Templeton, Bosco,” the young man said, blinking a little, shaky on his feet as he climbed out. “That mister just sounds so damn formal.” He almost tripped, and managed to catch himself on the door just in time. “I wish you all wouldn’t use it.”
“Come on, Mr. Templeton,” Bosco said, chuckling a little, trying to lift his arm over his own massive shoulders. “Let’s git you up to the house.”
But those hands, those hands on him...maybe it was the exhaustion, but he had a sudden flash of John, the way John’s hands had felt, sliding up his chest, pulling him in, holding him close... and he shoved away, putting a hand up between him and Bosco. “Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me!”
The big black man looked hurt, but he just tilted his cap down. “Do what you wan’, crazy fool,” he grumbled and circled ‘round the other side of the car, back turned.
Templeton felt a pang of regret, realizing that he must have hurt the other man’s feelings, and thought about apologizing. But this wasn’t the worst mess he’d made in the last twenty-four hours, and he could barely stand, let alone string two sentences together, so he promised himself he’d come back later, and made for the door.
He got about three steps down the little walk to the house before he felt himself stumbling again, but that time, he didn’t fall.
“I’ve got you, kid,” the impossibly soothing voice said as strong arms closed around him. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you...”
+++++
Templeton didn’t really pay attention to where John was taking him. He felt like he was in a dream, pressed close to the older man’s body, feet moving of their own accord and under no conscious request of his own. He didn’t look up, just held on until the movement stopped and he was on solid ground again.
“Hey, Templeton, you okay there, kid? Think you fell asleep walking here.”
A light touch on his cheek, his neck, and the young man looked up.
John was standing over him, blocking the light from the wide windows of his own room, and Templeton groaned, flopping back on the comforter. “Shit...”
“Looks like you had a bit of a night,” John chuckled, and paused. When he spoke again, it was much more serious. “Templeton, about yesterday...”
Guilt shot through the blonde like a bullet, and he groaned again, rolling over onto his side, curling up as much as he could. “I know,” he replied softly. “I know, John, I’m...look, you don’t have to stay, I’m fine, I’m just tired...”
“I know you are,” that voice rumbled again, and staring up at the ceiling, Templeton felt the bed dip, a weight shifting on to the mattress, and his heart started pounding, wondering if John was going to reach over, if John was going to touch... “I can see that, kid. Did you sleep at all last night?”
“I couldn’t,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. His vision was blurry. “I couldn’t, not after...”
The bed shifted again, and Templeton felt a hand slide up over the edge of his side, around to his chest. He just curled up tighter. He was too tired to have this discussion. He needed to sleep, he needed it, needed it before...
“Did you do it, then?”
It was whispered in his ear, lips close, and the younger man closed his eyes, thinking about Charisa, how sweet she’d been, how soft and willing and eager for it... “Yeah, John.”
“Kid...”
It was groaned, low and terrible, and Templeton froze, afraid of what he might see there if he turned to look.
But then John’s hand slid around, moving down and gripping tighter, pulling him in until that strong body was close to his, curled around his, spooned up behind his. “Kid, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry he made you do that, that he asked you to do that...”
“I did it for him,” Templeton said desperately, clinging to John’s hand where it lay on his belly, wondering if he had the strength to move it away, to get away from John, to put everything back where it should be. “I did it for the Colonel, so I could...so we could stay together...”
John’s arm squeezed, and Templeton felt a hot exhalation of breath against the hairs of his neck. “Is it so important to stay with him?”
Templeton shook his head. “He wants me...”
“There are other men who would want you, Templeton, who wouldn’t demand such things...”
“You’ve said that before,” the blonde said quietly, trying to fight through to the surface of this damn thing clouding through him at those words. All the conflicting thoughts, nothing lining up at all. The way the Colonel had touched him, that first time. The way he’d come looking for him, the way he’d taken such care to care for him here. But the way he touched him now, these things demanded... “But he’s the only one who’s ever...”
A kiss, right to the base of his neck. “He’s not, Templeton. He’s not the only man who would ever love you.”
“He is,” Templeton said, feeling a tear roll down the crease of his nose at a sudden thought, the thought that he was failing the Colonel bybeing so confused, so upset about all of this, that he would have to find a way to do more, put more into it, he’d have to work harder at believing it, that he was starting to doubt and there was nothing good that way... “He is the only one. Only,” and he yawned, “only one there’s ever been...”
“He’s not the only one, sweetheart, I promise you that...”
In the sunlight streaming in around them, warm and bright through his closed eyelids, brain fighting towards sleep that wasn’t far off or had already taken him away, Templeton felt like he was floating. Nothing seemed real. Not John’s arms, cradling him in close.
Not John’s voice, whispering in his ear.
“I could love you, Templeton, I could, if you’d let me in. I wish you’d let me in...”
Things from out of a dream, nothing real, Templeton thought, and felt the tears come.
+++++
When Templeton finally woke, the light had shifted, the afternoon drawing to a close, and John knew he had to get out of there soon, before the Colonel got home in an hour or two.
But he didn’t want to leave.
It’d been the most peaceful few hours he could remember in a long time, just laying there, his long limbs wrapped around Templeton, holding him as he slept, thinking about all the reasons this was a bad idea, all the ways this could go pear-shaped, how it could hurt him and Templeton and everybody else who worked at this place, men he’d been friends with for a decade or longer whose lives could be ruined by something like this. How the Colonel would track him down and kill him, no matter where he went, if he found out that his old second-in-command was poaching his boy.
But none of that mattered.
Anything, John had decided over the course of the day, anything would have been worth this. Anything.
It was the way he looked asleep, eyes shut, all his worries faded from muscle and tissue and skin, hiding under the surface but letting the carefree young man shine through, the man he might have been, had the Colonel not gotten a hold of him. The man he still might be, if he got away, if he found himself out there in the world, if he was able...
Wishful thinking, John, the gardener admonished himself. He was always going to have a hard life, an orphan like he is.
He felt the kid arch back against him slightly, starting to stir, and laid his forehead against one of those shoulders, still clothed, wishing it was bare skin that he could kiss, taste, savor...
But it all turned away from him and he found himself looking down into a pair of blinking blue eyes.
“John?” the kid asked him, snuggling in a little, movements languid with sleep. “John...”
The older man leaned forward a bit and kissed him again, right on his forehead. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m here. I’m right here with you.”
“I thought I dreamed it,” Templeton said softly, laying a hand on John’s chest, hooking his fingers under his shirt.
“Me staying?”
“Yeah, that part...” and he looked away. “And...and the things you were saying...did I dream that too?”
John inched forward, getting as close as he could, feeling the heat between them starting to build through layers and layers of clothing, and cupped a hand under the kid’s chin, feeling a day’s worth of stubble. Forcing him to look up. “What was I saying, Templeton?”
A faint blush spread out on the kid’s cheeks, but he seemed clear now. Certain. “You said...you said that you could love me...”
“...if you’d only let me, Templeton, I would,” John finished, holding on tight, afraid the kid would run away. “I would love you...”
Those eyes got huge and that body went stiff, and for a moment, the gardener was afraid that the young man in his arms had forgotten how to breathe. But then he inhaled like he’d never tasted air before, licked his lips and his hand tightened into the older man’s buttons.
“I’ve never met anybody more deserving of love than you,” John said softly, encouraged by the way the kid was clinging to him, and rolled them over. He pushed Templeton back into the sheets, running his hand down the kid’s chest, feeling him arch up into his touch, watching those lips part, and he stole in to take in the little gasp that Templeton let out then, pulling it into himself. “I’ve never known anyone I’ve wanted to love as much as you...nobody I do love as much as you...”
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the older man found himself shoved onto his back, Templeton propelling himself up and away, into the adjoining bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
“Fuck,” John muttered, and hesitating just a moment, followed.
Frantic, heart pounding in his ears, mind ringing with those words, Templeton turned the faucet on as far as it would go, and started splashing cold water in his face. He stank. He could smell how much he stank. Like booze and sex, Charisa’s sweet musk still clinging to him under his clothes. Like guilt, like shame...
“Templeton?” John called hesitantly through the door. “Templeton...”
I’ve never known anyone I’ve wanted to love as much as you...nobody I do love as much as you...
He ignored it. He had to ignore it, that echo bouncing around in the bathroom, all around him, through his very soul. The young man gripped the edges of the counter and leaned over the sink, listening to the water splash into its bowl, letting it drown it all out. He had to not hear it, not feel it, put it away and get ready for whatever was coming that night, whatever he was supposed to do that he would do...
“Kid...”
Templeton stiffened and rolled his eyes up to look at the mirror in front of him, where he could see John standing in the doorway, right behind him, but he didn’t turn.
John took a step in to the bathroom, hand out.
“Kid, I’m sorry to spring that on you, but it’s true, it’s true that I...”
He still didn’t turn, and dropped his head, groaning a little. This had to be a nightmare. It was the Colonel who loved him, the Colonel who’d offered him a home, offered him everything, his Colonel, his...
He felt one of John’s hands on his back, slow, landing very slowly.
“It’s true that I love you...”
At that he turned on his heel and slapped John’s hand away, the anger rising. “You love me? You love me, John? Why? How? I barely know you!”
The older man’s face tightened a bit, but he didn’t back down. “I do love you, Templeton. I love you, and I don’t know how to explain that to you other than say it to you...”
Templeton leaned back on the counter and ran a hand across his mouth, not sure of what he could say. What he should say. If there was anything to be said. Nobody had ever said anything like that to him before. Not the Colonel. Not anyone. Did people actually say things like that? How was he supposed to react? And suddenly, Templeton felt dizzy again.
And John, still stammering away.
“I-I know it’s not...not fair of me to say something like that when you...when you’re dedicated so to the Colonel...”
“You’re damn right,” Templeton said flatly. “He’s...”
“He’s abusing you, Templeton. I’ve seen this before,” John said quietly, bleakly, and took another step forward, closing the space between them. “A situation where he uses a boy, takes what he wants and throws him away, but never like this, never like it is with you. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not an act of love, Temp. It’s not...”
Templeton could feel his world cracking apart. “John, don’t...”
“Do you love him, Templeton?” John asked, laying a hand on the younger man’s hip, looking down at it as he did so, and this time, Templeton didn’t have the strength to slap it away. “If you do, tell me, and I’ll leave you in peace, I won’t bother you again. I’ll leave you...”
“Don’t!” he cried, fast as he could, something in him nearly breaking at those words, and he grabbed John’s arm. “John, don’t..don’t go. Please...”
And John moved in, let Templeton pull him in, nearly fell against him, bracing himself with one hand against the mirror. “Tell me, sweetheart, tell me you love him...”
He closed his eyes, unable to stop that truth from welling up any longer, not able to suppress it, and when he answered, it was barely above a whisper. “I...I thought I did, I thought he did, but...” and he trailed off, unwilling to finish, to say all those things, about how empty he felt, every morning he woke in the Colonel’s bed, how he hated the bruises, the boy constantly thrown his way, how he didn’t want to see Charisa again or put on those goddamned cufflinks again, how he found no satisfaction in anything here, in the man he’d come here for. He let his head hit John’s arm. “I don’t see how it’s possible...for anyone...”
John groaned, and brought their foreheads together, cradling the back of Templeton’s skull. “Could you let me, sweetheart? Would you?”
Templeton shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense, John, why you...”
“I love you, Templeton Peck,” John repeated, slow, lingering, eyes soft, hand stroking in tandem with his words. “I love you...”
Everything crumbling now, the young blonde felt himself collapsing forward, right into John’s chest. “Stop saying that,” he mumbled. “Please, John, stop saying that...’
John shifted around him, holding him still. “I can’t, Temp. I watch you from afar and I see you like this, so beautiful, so alone and I can’t help myself, the way I...how I love you...”
Templeton rubbed his cheek up the hard plane of the gardener’s chest. “I think I might love you, too, John. I think about you constantly. I thought about you last night...”
“When you were with her?” the older man urged softly.
“Before and after, too,” he admitted, remembering how he’d wished, how he’d dreamed... “I couldn’t stop, John, couldn’t turn you off...”
That was answered by a low rumble in John’s chest, and Templeton looked up to see the older man smiling. “What?” he asked.
“You’re beautiful,” John murmured, and bent to kiss him. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen...”
Templeton sighed into it, that soft brush of lips against his own, and leaned back into John’s chest, hands dropping to his waistband. “I’ve never felt beautiful, I’ve never felt any of the things people seem to think I am...”
“The things you are, sweetheart.”
“Show me,” he breathed, not really knowing what he was saying, knowing that whatever he was saying, it was the only thing he was capable of saying right then. “Show me, John. Show me like you showed me that day...”
“Sweetheart,” John groaned.
He reached up and cupped the older man’s face, pulling him back down, looking for another kiss. “Show me, John.”
Somehow they made it out of the bathroom, Templeton pushing and John pulling, both of them moving into his bedroom to fall next to each other onto the bed where John had spent his day, watching over him as he slept. The evidence was there, in the rumpled comforter, the disarray of the pillows, and Templeton felt his heart start to soar. Somehow, the thought of that, of somebody wanting to be near him like that, wanting him...he moaned and grabbed at the collar of John’s rough shirt.
“Please, John, please show me...”
“Anything, darling, anything you need...”
“I need you. You, John, please...”
They got naked, John stripping Templeton as slowly, as carefully, as he had that first time, throwing away the rumpled, tired clothes, Templeton working open John’s buttons, letting all that crude cotton fall away, both of them pausing to kiss and lick and touch, cool and dry, warm and wet, every little bit of contact like a firecracker in the young man’s senses, until he was laying back in the sheets, exposed, open, everything on display, cock already high and needy, begging for contact. His whole body begging for contact, for those sweet touches John could give him, the touches he’d been craving last night.
And John was bared too, all signs of his status here gone, nothing left but the from the elegant, gorgeous man underneath, his own cock starting to fill, heavy already, darkening with need. Need for me, Templeton thought wildly, sliding a leg up the outside of John’s, reaching down to take that hardening length in hand. “John, you said, you said no last time. But I need to feel you, I need you inside me...”
The sound the older man let out was one Templeton knew he’d never forget. “Sweetheart, I don’t want you to think that I’m just...”
“I don’t,” he said, realizing as he said it that it was true, and he slid his hands up around John’s lean chest, under his arms, snuggling in to his side. “I know you aren’t after that. I...I want...fuck me...”
“Templeton...”
The older man’s voice was shaking and Templeton bucked up, letting their cocks slide together. “I want you inside me, John. I want you to fuck me, I want you to come inside me, I want...
John pressed a finger to his lips, and kissed his jaw, drawing another involuntary moan from the younger man. “That’s not what you want, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You don’t want some fuck from me. And I won't do it, I won't fuck you...”
And right then, Templeton felt his heart sink.
“No?”
“No, I won’t fuck you.”
Templeton squirmed a little, not really understanding. Hadn’t John said... “Then...then what do I...”
“I want to make love to you.” His words ghosted over Templeton’s heated skin. “Would you like that, sweetheart? Would you like me to make love to you?”
“Make love?” he asked softly, confusion spreading.
John stroked the back of his fingers down between Templeton’s pecs, leaving fire in his wake from that slightest of touches. “Yes, my darling. Let me make love to you...”
“What...”
“You break my heart, Templeton,” the older man murmured softly, kissing him again and again, punctuating his words with his lips along Templeton’s neck, his cock throbbing against the younger man’s abs, slicking them with pre-come. “You really don’t know what I’m asking?”
“You said...you promised me, John, what, what I desire...you said I could tell you...”
“I also told you these things should be pleasurable. That it should be mutual,” John said, bringing his leg up alongside Templeton’s, nudging his thigh up a little, up against him, their groins flush. A warm, shaky smile broke out on his handsome features as Templeton arched into it, as he slipped a hand under the small of the younger man’s back. “Remember?”
Templeton pressed his leg in. His head fell back into the pillows, senses swimming as those strong hands held him tight. It felt like John was everywhere, all around him, and Templeton needed to have that, needed...but John was rejecting him at the same time, he didn’t understand that. It didn’t made any sense at all. “I want you to have me,” he whispered, eyes searching for his answer.
“I want you to have yourself,” John replied gently, and a hand slipped between Templeton’s legs, curling around his balls, rolling them slowly, urging him to lift up further, lift up. “I want to know that if I have you, you have me. I want you to have me, sweetheart.”
The blonde felt a thrill go through him, something he’d never felt before, rushing out to his fingertips and back in, exciting every nerve, every cell, heating his blood. He grabbed up, wrapping his fingers into all that loose silver hair. “John...”
“Do you want me, Templeton Peck?” John whispered, that hand moving, back across the tender area between his balls, one finger flicking over the tightly clenched muscle there. “Please, my lad, tell me you desire me...”
“Oh, ooh, yes, please,” he gasped as that finger pushed just inside of him, breaching him, the feeling of it all pushing him higher. “Yes, John, I do, I do...”
Blue eyes locked on his, John bent slowly and kissed him slowly, that finger pushing further in. “I desire you, too, Templeton. Since the first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew...”
“Knew that you loved me?” Templeton prompted, his body thrumming with pleasure already. This was so different from what he was used to, from his own fingers, his own preparation. Nobody had taken this kind of time with him, not since the Colonel had showed him how to do it himself...but the memories of that night, that night so many years ago, seemed distant and cold now. Like this could wipe it all away, like John could take him anew, like maybe this time could be the first time, and his heart was racing now. Anticipating. Longing. “Did you love me then?”
Another kiss. “I think so.”
He “I love you, John
“And I love you, sweetheart. I’m going to show you what that feels like...”
That finger delved a little deeper, crooking just right, the pad brushing over that little nub, sending a fresh wave of pleasure through him, and Templeton cried out, just a little.
“I can’t wait to be buried in you, sweetheart, to bring us together,” John murmured, his voice starting to shaky, starting to go husky with lust, and that finger swirled.
And pulled out.
Sweating now, Templeton ran a trembling hand down John’s spine, flexing over him. “John, no, please, no...”
“You’re too tight, sweetheart, and I’m not going to take you without slick,” John said, and pushed up, falling off to the side and kissing Templeton’s cheek, keeping them close. “Do you have anything we could use?”
The blonde smiled, thinking about that jar in his bathroom with fondness for the first time. “I’ll get it,” he replied, and slid up from the bed.
The jar was right there, right within reach, and Templeton looked down at it, fingers drumming on the edge of the sink for a moment. Was he going to do this? Were they going to do this?
He touched the lid, tapping once, and then smiled. Grabbed the thing up. Yes, he told himself, more certain of this than of anything ever before, yes, we really are.
And he lifted his eyes to look at himself in the mirror, remembering how John had been there not an hour ago, watching him, waiting for him, like he’d been, like they’d both been, ever since he’d arrived...
But it wasn’t John in the mirror behind him at that moment.
Wasn't John who made his blood run ice cold.
“Templeton, my boy,” and a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “How was your evening?”
Templeton acted fast, didn’t flinch, smoothed his fear from his eyes. He to put that face back on, that face this man wanted to see, the one he wanted to show, needed to show, if John was...
So he turned and smiled his sweetest, most seductive smile at his commander, knowing his arousal was still very, very much on display. “Sir. I didn’t realize you’d be home yet.”
“A little early, I know, my boy. But tonight’s going to be very special,” the Colonel replied, and wrapped his hands around the cup of Templeton’s shoulders, running them down his chest, pulling him back. And then his reflection in the mirror frowned. “What’s wrong, dear boy? Your heart’s pounding so.”
A thousand questions raced through Templeton’s mind, refusing to be prioritized. Had he seen John? Did he know? Why the hell hadn’t he heard the door open? How had this happened? How had he been so careless as to think...
“I was thinking about you, sir,” the young man purred, running a hand up the Colonel’s chest, teasing his collar. “About all the things I was going to do for you tonight...”
The Colonel chuckled and cupped his lean buttocks in both hands, pulling Templeton flush to him. “Such a needy boy, aren’t you, Templeton?”
“Sir...” he gasped, remembering how he’d said John’s name just so, not five minutes ago, and bit down his shame. “Sir, please...”
One of those hands ran down, under his thigh, urging him up, and Templeton was hauled out of the bathroom before he realized what was going on. Before he could think of a way to stop it, just in case John, in case something had happened to John...
But there was nothing in his bedroom, nothing visible to indicate there’d been another human being in there that day. Nothing but a rumpled bed and the closed door of the closet, which Templeton was fairly certain had been open before. Nothing out of the ordinary, as he was slammed against the nearest wall.
Mercifully, that meant the Colonel’s back was towards the closet. Where John had to be, where John had to be...
“Just look at you, my boy, so hard for me, so eager,” his former commander was murmuring in his ear, biting at his skin. “Do you want me, Tempelton?”
I want to know that if I have you, you have me. I want you to have me, sweetheart...
Templeton gritted his teeth. He could feel the Colonel’s shaft hardening to drilling strength beneath the fabric of his trousers, could feel the new bruises rising. John didn’t want to own him, he knew. John didn’t want to possess him, not like this. John wasn’t going to hurt him, if they were together, and the young blonde thought he could summon it, summon the strength to do what he should have done after that first night, get up, say no, leave...
“Colonel...” he said, letting his foot start to fall, seeking ground. “Colonel, I...
The Colonel smiled, really smiled, and kissed his cheek. “You know how fond I am of you, Templeton, and I’m not a young man any more. I intend on naming you in my will, the same benefits any wife would have. It’s a petty convention, but if I could offer that position to you in any more solid a way, sweet boy, I would.”
The enormity of that stunned the younger man stupid. “But, sir...”
“I want you with me, Templeton. I want you here with me. I wish you here with me in the years I have left,” and those teeth were at his neck, scraping softly. “Where you belong, boy, with me, your home, where I know you’ll be safe and comfortable and provided for...”
“Sir,” he groaned, not sure how to say it now, not sure if he should now, not after that, and he could feel himself starting to shake.
“Don’t be scared, my boy,” the Colonel murmured, that massive body holding Templeton still, pinned to the wall, taking his weight entirely. His hands were moving. His cock was like a brand beneath his suit. Nowhere near as comforting as John’s, but after that offer, after that proposal... “You’ll be fine. It will all be fine.”
He wanted to respond, Templeton did, tell this man...something, but he didn’t get the chance.
Not before the Colonel crushed their lips together and unbuttoned himself and spit in his hand.
Not before it was too late.
Templeton found himself being driven, higher and higher up the wall, that cock he hadn’t wanted that evening splitting him open, the dragging dry friction nearly unbearable.
Again and again and again and again.
It hurt.
It hurt more than he possibly could have guessed, and not just physically, but in his heart as well. He was crying out as he’d wished to cry out with John, moaning as he’d wished to moan, every sound a plea he didn’t want to make, body already taken too far to come back down now in any way but this. When the climax came that had been meant for John and John alone, it spilled from him across the Colonel’s shirt. And it was the the Colonel rutted up and groaned and froze and spilling into him, the place he’d meant for John, the place he’d so very much hoped, for some mad moment at a time he could never now return to. Not now...not now that John had heard him, seen all of this...not now that he'd lost this...
He could hear himself whimpering as the Colonel slipped free from him and laid him down on his bed. Templeton couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this low, this used, this utterly fucked. John wouldn’t want him now, he thought wildly, wouldn’t want him after bearing witness to the act that had just occurred in his presence. He was alone again, alone, except for those words, that promise, that proposal...
The Colonel slapped Templeton’s thigh. “Stop crying, Templeton. There’s nothing to be sad about here.”His voice was soft. “Aren’t you happy?”
“Sir, I...” and Templeton remembered that John had just heard. That John wouldn’t want him now, not now... “I am honored, I am...”
The older man paused. “You performed as you must with the girl last night, Templeton. Vance told me as much. You’ve done everything to prove your loyalty to me. I know you’ll continue pleasing me. The honor’s mine, that you want to be here with me...”
That was like a knife in his gut, because it wasn’t just he, Templeton knew, who had heard that, who would think...and his eyes darted to the closet. “Colonel...”
Another chuckle.“Wash yourself and dress, Templeton. We have guests tonight. I want you to look your best.”
“W-who, sir?” he asked, feeling shaky, unable to push himself from the sheets.
“Vance,” the Colonel said lightly, dabbing at the drying lines of semen streaking his shirt as he opened the bedroom door. “And my lawyer. We need to discuss the details and have you sign a few things.”
“We’re to do this tonight?”
“Sweet boy,” the older man said fondly, and that was that.
The Colonel was gone.
Templeton stared up at the ceiling in relief as the door snicked shut behind the older man. Stared up in confusion, in utter fear, the greatest sense of loss he'd ever know, trying to sort that all out in his mind...
And then the closet opened quietly.
“Templeton...”
He closed his eyes, not willing to look up at him, still not sure to handle it, not sure what kind of reaction he’d be facing, knowing he wouldn't be able to touch. Wouldn't be able to touch, above all things, that was gone...
So he decided he had to keep it cool. He had to.
“You grabbed your clothes and hid in there?” Templeton asked, modulating all the pain as far down as it would go.
The bed dipped. “But barely, when I heard the door click. Thank god for old reaction speeds.”
“And listened to the whole fucking thing?”
The weight moved closer. John's voice was soft. “Kid, here’s the thing you need to understand about the Colonel. He will kill you if he thinks...”
“He wouldn’t,” Templeton said faintly, rubbing a hand over his eyes, not wanting to even think about that, something niggling in the back of his mind that it was true. “He loves me. He wouldn’t hurt me.”
“He hurts you every time he does this. He hurt tonight, didn’t he?” John asked in that same gentle, horribly, disgustingly gentle voice
The young man schooled himself still, didn't move from where he was, didn’t budge from his contemplation of the painted ceiling above. “And you stayed in the fucking closet,” he said flatly. What did that mean? What did any of this mean? Why did John sound so nice, so worried? Didn't he care? Didn't he care at all that he'd just been betrayed? "If you think it's a damned problem, why didn't you stop it!?"
“Templeton, listen, goddamn it, please,” John said, the edge of his pain clear in his voice. “This man is dangerous...”
“I have to get ready,” he said desperately. “Please go.”
“You don’t have to do this, Temp," John urged. "You don’t have to be with him. You could leave...”
“And be with you?” he asked, shoving up and away at that. “Be with the man who says he loves me and lets another man...while he just sits by?”
“You could have stopped him too, Templeton! Don’t lay your own guilt off on me!” John growled, louder now. “You make this decision to do this, to whore yourself out to him like this!”
Whore.
Templeton shook his head, trying not betray any of the things alive in his heart at the moment, the things he could feel dying, withering away at that single word. There it was. His fears were true, then. He was going to lose John. He knew that. He was going to lose him, the man he’d..the man he’d fallen in love with...
Which meant there was only one course left open
He narrowed his eyes, right down onto the man he'd very nearly made love to that afternoon. The man who'd never touch him again. ”He's asked me to share his life with him. How can I refuse?"
John pulled up, crosslegged on the ruined bed, and stared levelly back for a moment. Just a moment, and then swung off, going back to the closet and pulling on his work trousers. Quick and efficient, his movements. “No, I suppose you can’t, Templeton. You aren’t able, are you, after all these shiny things he’s thrown your way?”
“He does give me things, true!” Templeton snapped, frustration boiling up in him, too many other emotions seeking handholds for the surface. “But that’s not what this is about! You heard him! He wishes to marry me! Marry me, John!”
“He wants to possess you, Templeton. He’s an old man, scared to be alone in his twilight years. That’s all.” John shrugged his shirt on, shoved his big feet into his boots. “And your body’s such a small price to pay for his indulgences, isn’t it?” Then he turned, hands on his last button, and Templeton felt cold, like he was dying. The look on the other man’s face. So blank, so empty. “You’ve made a wise investment with him, Templeton. I hope you find it a comfort.”
“It’s not about that, John,” he repeated softly.
The gardener leaned against the wall, right by the door, and sighed. “Kid, until you figure out that you don’t belong here, that you’re better than this, that you can stand on your own two feet, you’ll always be his boy...”
“John, don’t...”
“...and you’ll never be your own man,” John finished, hand on the knob. He flicked his eyes up and down Templeton once, and smiled. “I don’t think you’re doing this for money. It’s far more insidious a thing you’re after.”
“Insidious?” Templeton laughed, brittle inside. “He loves me.”
“Precisely. But for all he’s given you, and all he will, he will never give you that,” John said, and bowed his head. "Temp..."
"Goodbye, Mr. Smith," Templeton said icily, wanting this to be over, wanting it never to end, knowing it must...
Silence. Just a moment.
“Goodbye...goodbye, Mr. Peck,” John nodded, body slumping. “Goodbye.”
Then nothing at all in the fading light of the room. Nothing at all.
Nothing ever again.
<Pairing: Face/OMC, Hannibal/Face
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: mentions of domestic violence and underage
Summary:
Templeton and John reach an understanding about the nature of their relationship...
“You have a good night, Mr. Templeton?”
It was the first time Bosco had spoken since picking him up almost an hour ago.
Templeton lifted his head off his hand and instantly missed the pressure of his thumb against his forehead. His brain felt cottony, his mouth dry, his body weary. After he’d given Charisa her second orgasm of the night, she’d fallen asleep, fucked out, inebriated, at peace. He’d watched her for a moment and gone back to the card game with the rest of the men. Stayed there and played and thought.
But not about John, about how it would feel if he could feel him again, about what he would ask if he could ask it. About whether or not John would speak to him again. About whether or not he could bear up under his shame and speak to John, after the way he’d insulted him the day before. An entire night of torment, until Bosco came with the car and he finally got to leave.
“Yeah, yeah, Bosco, it was fine,” Templeton replied, staring at the floor.
“Fine,” the big negro grunted. “What that mean, Mr. Templeton? Good time or bad time?”
Bosco, Templeton had learned in his months at the estate, wasn’t just a driver. He also handled most of the mechanics for the estate, did all the vehicle maintenance himself, and on the weekends, when the he wasn’t taking the Colonel into town, he’d showed Templeton a thing or two about engines. For such a large man, he seemed quite gentle. But when he latched on to something, he didn’t back down.
“I don’t really know,” he admitted.
“Seem like you never know.”
He laughed a little, tastng the remnants of gin on his breath, smelling smoke in his clothes. “Yeah, well. That happens.” He raised his eyes to the windshield of the Rolls. They were almost home. Home. Like he’d thought of the night before, but watching it approach, he wasn’t sure. Was last night the price of being here? Did he want to pay that? Templeton couldn’t answer that, and he shook his head, trying unsucessfully to clear it. “Did the Colonel get to work alright?”
“You know I take good care o’ the Colonel, Mr. Templeton,” Bosco replied and nodded as they approached the front entrance. “He fine too. Then I come pick you up. Everythin’ fine.”
“Good,” Templeton said. He was tired, that was all. Just tired. He needed a bath and a good nap and time to come up with a good accounting of the night for the Colonel, so his concerns could be assauged... “That’s good.”
Bosco looked at him, back over his shoulder, and didn’t say anything.
The big car slid to a stop, motion halted, and Templeton was grateful for that. His head was starting to pound. But he didn’t realize they were in Bosco’s spotless garage, around back of the house, until the chauffeur opened the door for him.
“We home, Mr. Templeton.”
“I wish you’d just call me Templeton, Bosco,” the young man said, blinking a little, shaky on his feet as he climbed out. “That mister just sounds so damn formal.” He almost tripped, and managed to catch himself on the door just in time. “I wish you all wouldn’t use it.”
“Come on, Mr. Templeton,” Bosco said, chuckling a little, trying to lift his arm over his own massive shoulders. “Let’s git you up to the house.”
But those hands, those hands on him...maybe it was the exhaustion, but he had a sudden flash of John, the way John’s hands had felt, sliding up his chest, pulling him in, holding him close... and he shoved away, putting a hand up between him and Bosco. “Don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me!”
The big black man looked hurt, but he just tilted his cap down. “Do what you wan’, crazy fool,” he grumbled and circled ‘round the other side of the car, back turned.
Templeton felt a pang of regret, realizing that he must have hurt the other man’s feelings, and thought about apologizing. But this wasn’t the worst mess he’d made in the last twenty-four hours, and he could barely stand, let alone string two sentences together, so he promised himself he’d come back later, and made for the door.
He got about three steps down the little walk to the house before he felt himself stumbling again, but that time, he didn’t fall.
“I’ve got you, kid,” the impossibly soothing voice said as strong arms closed around him. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you...”
+++++
Templeton didn’t really pay attention to where John was taking him. He felt like he was in a dream, pressed close to the older man’s body, feet moving of their own accord and under no conscious request of his own. He didn’t look up, just held on until the movement stopped and he was on solid ground again.
“Hey, Templeton, you okay there, kid? Think you fell asleep walking here.”
A light touch on his cheek, his neck, and the young man looked up.
John was standing over him, blocking the light from the wide windows of his own room, and Templeton groaned, flopping back on the comforter. “Shit...”
“Looks like you had a bit of a night,” John chuckled, and paused. When he spoke again, it was much more serious. “Templeton, about yesterday...”
Guilt shot through the blonde like a bullet, and he groaned again, rolling over onto his side, curling up as much as he could. “I know,” he replied softly. “I know, John, I’m...look, you don’t have to stay, I’m fine, I’m just tired...”
“I know you are,” that voice rumbled again, and staring up at the ceiling, Templeton felt the bed dip, a weight shifting on to the mattress, and his heart started pounding, wondering if John was going to reach over, if John was going to touch... “I can see that, kid. Did you sleep at all last night?”
“I couldn’t,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. His vision was blurry. “I couldn’t, not after...”
The bed shifted again, and Templeton felt a hand slide up over the edge of his side, around to his chest. He just curled up tighter. He was too tired to have this discussion. He needed to sleep, he needed it, needed it before...
“Did you do it, then?”
It was whispered in his ear, lips close, and the younger man closed his eyes, thinking about Charisa, how sweet she’d been, how soft and willing and eager for it... “Yeah, John.”
“Kid...”
It was groaned, low and terrible, and Templeton froze, afraid of what he might see there if he turned to look.
But then John’s hand slid around, moving down and gripping tighter, pulling him in until that strong body was close to his, curled around his, spooned up behind his. “Kid, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry he made you do that, that he asked you to do that...”
“I did it for him,” Templeton said desperately, clinging to John’s hand where it lay on his belly, wondering if he had the strength to move it away, to get away from John, to put everything back where it should be. “I did it for the Colonel, so I could...so we could stay together...”
John’s arm squeezed, and Templeton felt a hot exhalation of breath against the hairs of his neck. “Is it so important to stay with him?”
Templeton shook his head. “He wants me...”
“There are other men who would want you, Templeton, who wouldn’t demand such things...”
“You’ve said that before,” the blonde said quietly, trying to fight through to the surface of this damn thing clouding through him at those words. All the conflicting thoughts, nothing lining up at all. The way the Colonel had touched him, that first time. The way he’d come looking for him, the way he’d taken such care to care for him here. But the way he touched him now, these things demanded... “But he’s the only one who’s ever...”
A kiss, right to the base of his neck. “He’s not, Templeton. He’s not the only man who would ever love you.”
“He is,” Templeton said, feeling a tear roll down the crease of his nose at a sudden thought, the thought that he was failing the Colonel bybeing so confused, so upset about all of this, that he would have to find a way to do more, put more into it, he’d have to work harder at believing it, that he was starting to doubt and there was nothing good that way... “He is the only one. Only,” and he yawned, “only one there’s ever been...”
“He’s not the only one, sweetheart, I promise you that...”
In the sunlight streaming in around them, warm and bright through his closed eyelids, brain fighting towards sleep that wasn’t far off or had already taken him away, Templeton felt like he was floating. Nothing seemed real. Not John’s arms, cradling him in close.
Not John’s voice, whispering in his ear.
“I could love you, Templeton, I could, if you’d let me in. I wish you’d let me in...”
Things from out of a dream, nothing real, Templeton thought, and felt the tears come.
+++++
When Templeton finally woke, the light had shifted, the afternoon drawing to a close, and John knew he had to get out of there soon, before the Colonel got home in an hour or two.
But he didn’t want to leave.
It’d been the most peaceful few hours he could remember in a long time, just laying there, his long limbs wrapped around Templeton, holding him as he slept, thinking about all the reasons this was a bad idea, all the ways this could go pear-shaped, how it could hurt him and Templeton and everybody else who worked at this place, men he’d been friends with for a decade or longer whose lives could be ruined by something like this. How the Colonel would track him down and kill him, no matter where he went, if he found out that his old second-in-command was poaching his boy.
But none of that mattered.
Anything, John had decided over the course of the day, anything would have been worth this. Anything.
It was the way he looked asleep, eyes shut, all his worries faded from muscle and tissue and skin, hiding under the surface but letting the carefree young man shine through, the man he might have been, had the Colonel not gotten a hold of him. The man he still might be, if he got away, if he found himself out there in the world, if he was able...
Wishful thinking, John, the gardener admonished himself. He was always going to have a hard life, an orphan like he is.
He felt the kid arch back against him slightly, starting to stir, and laid his forehead against one of those shoulders, still clothed, wishing it was bare skin that he could kiss, taste, savor...
But it all turned away from him and he found himself looking down into a pair of blinking blue eyes.
“John?” the kid asked him, snuggling in a little, movements languid with sleep. “John...”
The older man leaned forward a bit and kissed him again, right on his forehead. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m here. I’m right here with you.”
“I thought I dreamed it,” Templeton said softly, laying a hand on John’s chest, hooking his fingers under his shirt.
“Me staying?”
“Yeah, that part...” and he looked away. “And...and the things you were saying...did I dream that too?”
John inched forward, getting as close as he could, feeling the heat between them starting to build through layers and layers of clothing, and cupped a hand under the kid’s chin, feeling a day’s worth of stubble. Forcing him to look up. “What was I saying, Templeton?”
A faint blush spread out on the kid’s cheeks, but he seemed clear now. Certain. “You said...you said that you could love me...”
“...if you’d only let me, Templeton, I would,” John finished, holding on tight, afraid the kid would run away. “I would love you...”
Those eyes got huge and that body went stiff, and for a moment, the gardener was afraid that the young man in his arms had forgotten how to breathe. But then he inhaled like he’d never tasted air before, licked his lips and his hand tightened into the older man’s buttons.
“I’ve never met anybody more deserving of love than you,” John said softly, encouraged by the way the kid was clinging to him, and rolled them over. He pushed Templeton back into the sheets, running his hand down the kid’s chest, feeling him arch up into his touch, watching those lips part, and he stole in to take in the little gasp that Templeton let out then, pulling it into himself. “I’ve never known anyone I’ve wanted to love as much as you...nobody I do love as much as you...”
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the older man found himself shoved onto his back, Templeton propelling himself up and away, into the adjoining bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
“Fuck,” John muttered, and hesitating just a moment, followed.
Frantic, heart pounding in his ears, mind ringing with those words, Templeton turned the faucet on as far as it would go, and started splashing cold water in his face. He stank. He could smell how much he stank. Like booze and sex, Charisa’s sweet musk still clinging to him under his clothes. Like guilt, like shame...
“Templeton?” John called hesitantly through the door. “Templeton...”
I’ve never known anyone I’ve wanted to love as much as you...nobody I do love as much as you...
He ignored it. He had to ignore it, that echo bouncing around in the bathroom, all around him, through his very soul. The young man gripped the edges of the counter and leaned over the sink, listening to the water splash into its bowl, letting it drown it all out. He had to not hear it, not feel it, put it away and get ready for whatever was coming that night, whatever he was supposed to do that he would do...
“Kid...”
Templeton stiffened and rolled his eyes up to look at the mirror in front of him, where he could see John standing in the doorway, right behind him, but he didn’t turn.
John took a step in to the bathroom, hand out.
“Kid, I’m sorry to spring that on you, but it’s true, it’s true that I...”
He still didn’t turn, and dropped his head, groaning a little. This had to be a nightmare. It was the Colonel who loved him, the Colonel who’d offered him a home, offered him everything, his Colonel, his...
He felt one of John’s hands on his back, slow, landing very slowly.
“It’s true that I love you...”
At that he turned on his heel and slapped John’s hand away, the anger rising. “You love me? You love me, John? Why? How? I barely know you!”
The older man’s face tightened a bit, but he didn’t back down. “I do love you, Templeton. I love you, and I don’t know how to explain that to you other than say it to you...”
Templeton leaned back on the counter and ran a hand across his mouth, not sure of what he could say. What he should say. If there was anything to be said. Nobody had ever said anything like that to him before. Not the Colonel. Not anyone. Did people actually say things like that? How was he supposed to react? And suddenly, Templeton felt dizzy again.
And John, still stammering away.
“I-I know it’s not...not fair of me to say something like that when you...when you’re dedicated so to the Colonel...”
“You’re damn right,” Templeton said flatly. “He’s...”
“He’s abusing you, Templeton. I’ve seen this before,” John said quietly, bleakly, and took another step forward, closing the space between them. “A situation where he uses a boy, takes what he wants and throws him away, but never like this, never like it is with you. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not an act of love, Temp. It’s not...”
Templeton could feel his world cracking apart. “John, don’t...”
“Do you love him, Templeton?” John asked, laying a hand on the younger man’s hip, looking down at it as he did so, and this time, Templeton didn’t have the strength to slap it away. “If you do, tell me, and I’ll leave you in peace, I won’t bother you again. I’ll leave you...”
“Don’t!” he cried, fast as he could, something in him nearly breaking at those words, and he grabbed John’s arm. “John, don’t..don’t go. Please...”
And John moved in, let Templeton pull him in, nearly fell against him, bracing himself with one hand against the mirror. “Tell me, sweetheart, tell me you love him...”
He closed his eyes, unable to stop that truth from welling up any longer, not able to suppress it, and when he answered, it was barely above a whisper. “I...I thought I did, I thought he did, but...” and he trailed off, unwilling to finish, to say all those things, about how empty he felt, every morning he woke in the Colonel’s bed, how he hated the bruises, the boy constantly thrown his way, how he didn’t want to see Charisa again or put on those goddamned cufflinks again, how he found no satisfaction in anything here, in the man he’d come here for. He let his head hit John’s arm. “I don’t see how it’s possible...for anyone...”
John groaned, and brought their foreheads together, cradling the back of Templeton’s skull. “Could you let me, sweetheart? Would you?”
Templeton shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense, John, why you...”
“I love you, Templeton Peck,” John repeated, slow, lingering, eyes soft, hand stroking in tandem with his words. “I love you...”
Everything crumbling now, the young blonde felt himself collapsing forward, right into John’s chest. “Stop saying that,” he mumbled. “Please, John, stop saying that...’
John shifted around him, holding him still. “I can’t, Temp. I watch you from afar and I see you like this, so beautiful, so alone and I can’t help myself, the way I...how I love you...”
Templeton rubbed his cheek up the hard plane of the gardener’s chest. “I think I might love you, too, John. I think about you constantly. I thought about you last night...”
“When you were with her?” the older man urged softly.
“Before and after, too,” he admitted, remembering how he’d wished, how he’d dreamed... “I couldn’t stop, John, couldn’t turn you off...”
That was answered by a low rumble in John’s chest, and Templeton looked up to see the older man smiling. “What?” he asked.
“You’re beautiful,” John murmured, and bent to kiss him. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen...”
Templeton sighed into it, that soft brush of lips against his own, and leaned back into John’s chest, hands dropping to his waistband. “I’ve never felt beautiful, I’ve never felt any of the things people seem to think I am...”
“The things you are, sweetheart.”
“Show me,” he breathed, not really knowing what he was saying, knowing that whatever he was saying, it was the only thing he was capable of saying right then. “Show me, John. Show me like you showed me that day...”
“Sweetheart,” John groaned.
He reached up and cupped the older man’s face, pulling him back down, looking for another kiss. “Show me, John.”
Somehow they made it out of the bathroom, Templeton pushing and John pulling, both of them moving into his bedroom to fall next to each other onto the bed where John had spent his day, watching over him as he slept. The evidence was there, in the rumpled comforter, the disarray of the pillows, and Templeton felt his heart start to soar. Somehow, the thought of that, of somebody wanting to be near him like that, wanting him...he moaned and grabbed at the collar of John’s rough shirt.
“Please, John, please show me...”
“Anything, darling, anything you need...”
“I need you. You, John, please...”
They got naked, John stripping Templeton as slowly, as carefully, as he had that first time, throwing away the rumpled, tired clothes, Templeton working open John’s buttons, letting all that crude cotton fall away, both of them pausing to kiss and lick and touch, cool and dry, warm and wet, every little bit of contact like a firecracker in the young man’s senses, until he was laying back in the sheets, exposed, open, everything on display, cock already high and needy, begging for contact. His whole body begging for contact, for those sweet touches John could give him, the touches he’d been craving last night.
And John was bared too, all signs of his status here gone, nothing left but the from the elegant, gorgeous man underneath, his own cock starting to fill, heavy already, darkening with need. Need for me, Templeton thought wildly, sliding a leg up the outside of John’s, reaching down to take that hardening length in hand. “John, you said, you said no last time. But I need to feel you, I need you inside me...”
The sound the older man let out was one Templeton knew he’d never forget. “Sweetheart, I don’t want you to think that I’m just...”
“I don’t,” he said, realizing as he said it that it was true, and he slid his hands up around John’s lean chest, under his arms, snuggling in to his side. “I know you aren’t after that. I...I want...fuck me...”
“Templeton...”
The older man’s voice was shaking and Templeton bucked up, letting their cocks slide together. “I want you inside me, John. I want you to fuck me, I want you to come inside me, I want...
John pressed a finger to his lips, and kissed his jaw, drawing another involuntary moan from the younger man. “That’s not what you want, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You don’t want some fuck from me. And I won't do it, I won't fuck you...”
And right then, Templeton felt his heart sink.
“No?”
“No, I won’t fuck you.”
Templeton squirmed a little, not really understanding. Hadn’t John said... “Then...then what do I...”
“I want to make love to you.” His words ghosted over Templeton’s heated skin. “Would you like that, sweetheart? Would you like me to make love to you?”
“Make love?” he asked softly, confusion spreading.
John stroked the back of his fingers down between Templeton’s pecs, leaving fire in his wake from that slightest of touches. “Yes, my darling. Let me make love to you...”
“What...”
“You break my heart, Templeton,” the older man murmured softly, kissing him again and again, punctuating his words with his lips along Templeton’s neck, his cock throbbing against the younger man’s abs, slicking them with pre-come. “You really don’t know what I’m asking?”
“You said...you promised me, John, what, what I desire...you said I could tell you...”
“I also told you these things should be pleasurable. That it should be mutual,” John said, bringing his leg up alongside Templeton’s, nudging his thigh up a little, up against him, their groins flush. A warm, shaky smile broke out on his handsome features as Templeton arched into it, as he slipped a hand under the small of the younger man’s back. “Remember?”
Templeton pressed his leg in. His head fell back into the pillows, senses swimming as those strong hands held him tight. It felt like John was everywhere, all around him, and Templeton needed to have that, needed...but John was rejecting him at the same time, he didn’t understand that. It didn’t made any sense at all. “I want you to have me,” he whispered, eyes searching for his answer.
“I want you to have yourself,” John replied gently, and a hand slipped between Templeton’s legs, curling around his balls, rolling them slowly, urging him to lift up further, lift up. “I want to know that if I have you, you have me. I want you to have me, sweetheart.”
The blonde felt a thrill go through him, something he’d never felt before, rushing out to his fingertips and back in, exciting every nerve, every cell, heating his blood. He grabbed up, wrapping his fingers into all that loose silver hair. “John...”
“Do you want me, Templeton Peck?” John whispered, that hand moving, back across the tender area between his balls, one finger flicking over the tightly clenched muscle there. “Please, my lad, tell me you desire me...”
“Oh, ooh, yes, please,” he gasped as that finger pushed just inside of him, breaching him, the feeling of it all pushing him higher. “Yes, John, I do, I do...”
Blue eyes locked on his, John bent slowly and kissed him slowly, that finger pushing further in. “I desire you, too, Templeton. Since the first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew...”
“Knew that you loved me?” Templeton prompted, his body thrumming with pleasure already. This was so different from what he was used to, from his own fingers, his own preparation. Nobody had taken this kind of time with him, not since the Colonel had showed him how to do it himself...but the memories of that night, that night so many years ago, seemed distant and cold now. Like this could wipe it all away, like John could take him anew, like maybe this time could be the first time, and his heart was racing now. Anticipating. Longing. “Did you love me then?”
Another kiss. “I think so.”
He “I love you, John
“And I love you, sweetheart. I’m going to show you what that feels like...”
That finger delved a little deeper, crooking just right, the pad brushing over that little nub, sending a fresh wave of pleasure through him, and Templeton cried out, just a little.
“I can’t wait to be buried in you, sweetheart, to bring us together,” John murmured, his voice starting to shaky, starting to go husky with lust, and that finger swirled.
And pulled out.
Sweating now, Templeton ran a trembling hand down John’s spine, flexing over him. “John, no, please, no...”
“You’re too tight, sweetheart, and I’m not going to take you without slick,” John said, and pushed up, falling off to the side and kissing Templeton’s cheek, keeping them close. “Do you have anything we could use?”
The blonde smiled, thinking about that jar in his bathroom with fondness for the first time. “I’ll get it,” he replied, and slid up from the bed.
The jar was right there, right within reach, and Templeton looked down at it, fingers drumming on the edge of the sink for a moment. Was he going to do this? Were they going to do this?
He touched the lid, tapping once, and then smiled. Grabbed the thing up. Yes, he told himself, more certain of this than of anything ever before, yes, we really are.
And he lifted his eyes to look at himself in the mirror, remembering how John had been there not an hour ago, watching him, waiting for him, like he’d been, like they’d both been, ever since he’d arrived...
But it wasn’t John in the mirror behind him at that moment.
Wasn't John who made his blood run ice cold.
“Templeton, my boy,” and a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. “How was your evening?”
Templeton acted fast, didn’t flinch, smoothed his fear from his eyes. He to put that face back on, that face this man wanted to see, the one he wanted to show, needed to show, if John was...
So he turned and smiled his sweetest, most seductive smile at his commander, knowing his arousal was still very, very much on display. “Sir. I didn’t realize you’d be home yet.”
“A little early, I know, my boy. But tonight’s going to be very special,” the Colonel replied, and wrapped his hands around the cup of Templeton’s shoulders, running them down his chest, pulling him back. And then his reflection in the mirror frowned. “What’s wrong, dear boy? Your heart’s pounding so.”
A thousand questions raced through Templeton’s mind, refusing to be prioritized. Had he seen John? Did he know? Why the hell hadn’t he heard the door open? How had this happened? How had he been so careless as to think...
“I was thinking about you, sir,” the young man purred, running a hand up the Colonel’s chest, teasing his collar. “About all the things I was going to do for you tonight...”
The Colonel chuckled and cupped his lean buttocks in both hands, pulling Templeton flush to him. “Such a needy boy, aren’t you, Templeton?”
“Sir...” he gasped, remembering how he’d said John’s name just so, not five minutes ago, and bit down his shame. “Sir, please...”
One of those hands ran down, under his thigh, urging him up, and Templeton was hauled out of the bathroom before he realized what was going on. Before he could think of a way to stop it, just in case John, in case something had happened to John...
But there was nothing in his bedroom, nothing visible to indicate there’d been another human being in there that day. Nothing but a rumpled bed and the closed door of the closet, which Templeton was fairly certain had been open before. Nothing out of the ordinary, as he was slammed against the nearest wall.
Mercifully, that meant the Colonel’s back was towards the closet. Where John had to be, where John had to be...
“Just look at you, my boy, so hard for me, so eager,” his former commander was murmuring in his ear, biting at his skin. “Do you want me, Tempelton?”
I want to know that if I have you, you have me. I want you to have me, sweetheart...
Templeton gritted his teeth. He could feel the Colonel’s shaft hardening to drilling strength beneath the fabric of his trousers, could feel the new bruises rising. John didn’t want to own him, he knew. John didn’t want to possess him, not like this. John wasn’t going to hurt him, if they were together, and the young blonde thought he could summon it, summon the strength to do what he should have done after that first night, get up, say no, leave...
“Colonel...” he said, letting his foot start to fall, seeking ground. “Colonel, I...
The Colonel smiled, really smiled, and kissed his cheek. “You know how fond I am of you, Templeton, and I’m not a young man any more. I intend on naming you in my will, the same benefits any wife would have. It’s a petty convention, but if I could offer that position to you in any more solid a way, sweet boy, I would.”
The enormity of that stunned the younger man stupid. “But, sir...”
“I want you with me, Templeton. I want you here with me. I wish you here with me in the years I have left,” and those teeth were at his neck, scraping softly. “Where you belong, boy, with me, your home, where I know you’ll be safe and comfortable and provided for...”
“Sir,” he groaned, not sure how to say it now, not sure if he should now, not after that, and he could feel himself starting to shake.
“Don’t be scared, my boy,” the Colonel murmured, that massive body holding Templeton still, pinned to the wall, taking his weight entirely. His hands were moving. His cock was like a brand beneath his suit. Nowhere near as comforting as John’s, but after that offer, after that proposal... “You’ll be fine. It will all be fine.”
He wanted to respond, Templeton did, tell this man...something, but he didn’t get the chance.
Not before the Colonel crushed their lips together and unbuttoned himself and spit in his hand.
Not before it was too late.
Templeton found himself being driven, higher and higher up the wall, that cock he hadn’t wanted that evening splitting him open, the dragging dry friction nearly unbearable.
Again and again and again and again.
It hurt.
It hurt more than he possibly could have guessed, and not just physically, but in his heart as well. He was crying out as he’d wished to cry out with John, moaning as he’d wished to moan, every sound a plea he didn’t want to make, body already taken too far to come back down now in any way but this. When the climax came that had been meant for John and John alone, it spilled from him across the Colonel’s shirt. And it was the the Colonel rutted up and groaned and froze and spilling into him, the place he’d meant for John, the place he’d so very much hoped, for some mad moment at a time he could never now return to. Not now...not now that John had heard him, seen all of this...not now that he'd lost this...
He could hear himself whimpering as the Colonel slipped free from him and laid him down on his bed. Templeton couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this low, this used, this utterly fucked. John wouldn’t want him now, he thought wildly, wouldn’t want him after bearing witness to the act that had just occurred in his presence. He was alone again, alone, except for those words, that promise, that proposal...
The Colonel slapped Templeton’s thigh. “Stop crying, Templeton. There’s nothing to be sad about here.”His voice was soft. “Aren’t you happy?”
“Sir, I...” and Templeton remembered that John had just heard. That John wouldn’t want him now, not now... “I am honored, I am...”
The older man paused. “You performed as you must with the girl last night, Templeton. Vance told me as much. You’ve done everything to prove your loyalty to me. I know you’ll continue pleasing me. The honor’s mine, that you want to be here with me...”
That was like a knife in his gut, because it wasn’t just he, Templeton knew, who had heard that, who would think...and his eyes darted to the closet. “Colonel...”
Another chuckle.“Wash yourself and dress, Templeton. We have guests tonight. I want you to look your best.”
“W-who, sir?” he asked, feeling shaky, unable to push himself from the sheets.
“Vance,” the Colonel said lightly, dabbing at the drying lines of semen streaking his shirt as he opened the bedroom door. “And my lawyer. We need to discuss the details and have you sign a few things.”
“We’re to do this tonight?”
“Sweet boy,” the older man said fondly, and that was that.
The Colonel was gone.
Templeton stared up at the ceiling in relief as the door snicked shut behind the older man. Stared up in confusion, in utter fear, the greatest sense of loss he'd ever know, trying to sort that all out in his mind...
And then the closet opened quietly.
“Templeton...”
He closed his eyes, not willing to look up at him, still not sure to handle it, not sure what kind of reaction he’d be facing, knowing he wouldn't be able to touch. Wouldn't be able to touch, above all things, that was gone...
So he decided he had to keep it cool. He had to.
“You grabbed your clothes and hid in there?” Templeton asked, modulating all the pain as far down as it would go.
The bed dipped. “But barely, when I heard the door click. Thank god for old reaction speeds.”
“And listened to the whole fucking thing?”
The weight moved closer. John's voice was soft. “Kid, here’s the thing you need to understand about the Colonel. He will kill you if he thinks...”
“He wouldn’t,” Templeton said faintly, rubbing a hand over his eyes, not wanting to even think about that, something niggling in the back of his mind that it was true. “He loves me. He wouldn’t hurt me.”
“He hurts you every time he does this. He hurt tonight, didn’t he?” John asked in that same gentle, horribly, disgustingly gentle voice
The young man schooled himself still, didn't move from where he was, didn’t budge from his contemplation of the painted ceiling above. “And you stayed in the fucking closet,” he said flatly. What did that mean? What did any of this mean? Why did John sound so nice, so worried? Didn't he care? Didn't he care at all that he'd just been betrayed? "If you think it's a damned problem, why didn't you stop it!?"
“Templeton, listen, goddamn it, please,” John said, the edge of his pain clear in his voice. “This man is dangerous...”
“I have to get ready,” he said desperately. “Please go.”
“You don’t have to do this, Temp," John urged. "You don’t have to be with him. You could leave...”
“And be with you?” he asked, shoving up and away at that. “Be with the man who says he loves me and lets another man...while he just sits by?”
“You could have stopped him too, Templeton! Don’t lay your own guilt off on me!” John growled, louder now. “You make this decision to do this, to whore yourself out to him like this!”
Whore.
Templeton shook his head, trying not betray any of the things alive in his heart at the moment, the things he could feel dying, withering away at that single word. There it was. His fears were true, then. He was going to lose John. He knew that. He was going to lose him, the man he’d..the man he’d fallen in love with...
Which meant there was only one course left open
He narrowed his eyes, right down onto the man he'd very nearly made love to that afternoon. The man who'd never touch him again. ”He's asked me to share his life with him. How can I refuse?"
John pulled up, crosslegged on the ruined bed, and stared levelly back for a moment. Just a moment, and then swung off, going back to the closet and pulling on his work trousers. Quick and efficient, his movements. “No, I suppose you can’t, Templeton. You aren’t able, are you, after all these shiny things he’s thrown your way?”
“He does give me things, true!” Templeton snapped, frustration boiling up in him, too many other emotions seeking handholds for the surface. “But that’s not what this is about! You heard him! He wishes to marry me! Marry me, John!”
“He wants to possess you, Templeton. He’s an old man, scared to be alone in his twilight years. That’s all.” John shrugged his shirt on, shoved his big feet into his boots. “And your body’s such a small price to pay for his indulgences, isn’t it?” Then he turned, hands on his last button, and Templeton felt cold, like he was dying. The look on the other man’s face. So blank, so empty. “You’ve made a wise investment with him, Templeton. I hope you find it a comfort.”
“It’s not about that, John,” he repeated softly.
The gardener leaned against the wall, right by the door, and sighed. “Kid, until you figure out that you don’t belong here, that you’re better than this, that you can stand on your own two feet, you’ll always be his boy...”
“John, don’t...”
“...and you’ll never be your own man,” John finished, hand on the knob. He flicked his eyes up and down Templeton once, and smiled. “I don’t think you’re doing this for money. It’s far more insidious a thing you’re after.”
“Insidious?” Templeton laughed, brittle inside. “He loves me.”
“Precisely. But for all he’s given you, and all he will, he will never give you that,” John said, and bowed his head. "Temp..."
"Goodbye, Mr. Smith," Templeton said icily, wanting this to be over, wanting it never to end, knowing it must...
Silence. Just a moment.
“Goodbye...goodbye, Mr. Peck,” John nodded, body slumping. “Goodbye.”
Then nothing at all in the fading light of the room. Nothing at all.
Nothing ever again.
