Chapter 17
Secrets
Oliver brought breakfast in bed. Adam had left a few hours ago, making Oliver promise to call soon. Even though he’d showered the night before, Rune went for a second one as soon as he was awake while Oliver prepared the food. Rune climbed back in bed, his hair dripping, once he’d finished.
Rune picked at a piece of toast while Oliver examined Rune’s hand yet again before bandaging it for him. It didn’t look swollen, and the wounds weren’t deep. Rune insisted there was no sharp pain or stiffness, but Oliver still felt they should go for an x-ray, just in case.
Relax, Rune signed, smiling gently.
He waited while Oliver wrapped fresh gauze around, then reached for the large pad of paper and pen at the bedside. He wrote, then passed it over.
Tell me more about Adam. I’ve seen you touch. Kiss. Were you together once?
Oliver looked at the looped letters and settled down on his stomach, propped on his elbows. Rune laid down beside him, caressing Oliver’s back with his newly tended hand, pressing kisses to Oliver’s arm and shoulder.
Oliver wrote, No. It’s complicated.
Rune took the pen, added: Tell me? Please?
Oliver groaned, averted his eyes. Rune’s fingers played at the back of his neck, tickling with their gentle movements over his skin.
The explanation was one he’d never had to make, except to Jackson, long ago and in pieces, gradually. Not all at once, not written down. But he’d already shared Rune with Adam. Rune deserved to have his questions answered.
He turned his head to look at Rune dead-on and said slowly, over enunciating, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
Rune just kept watching him expectantly.
Sighing, Oliver picked up the pen.
We’d known each other forever. Since we were kids. It was never sexual. Sure, he was hot, but he was Adam. It just never occurred to me.
Rune plucked the pen from his hand.
So Adam started it?
Oliver nodded.
You seem uncomfortable.
Oliver took the pen back.
He’s the one who took it there.
Rune raised an eyebrow, pulling a face that seemed to call out Oliver’s defensiveness.
We were in college. Had just started training at Manse as Doms. Adam’s parents had just been killed. He was looking for comfort.
Oliver remembered staying over at Adam’s place all the time, keeping him company. They shared rides so Adam didn’t have to be alone whether going to the university or to Manse. Oliver had his own room at Adam’s new apartment. One night, Adam had slipped into Oliver’s bed after he’d shut off the light, his textbook shut on the nightstand after studying for three hours straight. Adam had only been wearing underwear. Oliver had been in pajama pants.
Oliver had asked, “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” Adam said, sliding closer.
They’d been seeing each other naked frequently at Manse, which had added a strange twist to their previously normal friendship. That night, Adam had lingered to watch a submissive suck off Oliver rather than go to find one of his own.
He started to pay more attention during training. Watching me with subs. He’s always been into watching.
That night, in bed, Adam had rolled toward Oliver, who lay on his back, and touched his chest, rolling his thumb over his nipple.
“I don’t think we should do this,” Oliver had warned. “It’ll make things weird.”
“Do what?” Adam asked, holding Oliver’s gaze as he slid his hand down, under the sheet and inside Oliver’s pants, going right for his dick. Feeling Adam’s hand on it had been a shock to Oliver’s system. It hadn’t been hesitant or nervous at all, and from the first moment, Oliver knew he was screwed, fighting a losing battle. He hadn’t been willing to do anything to hurt Adam’s already sensitive feelings, but he also knew it was up to him to help Adam in whatever ways he could. There had been so much numbness and emotion. He’d found Adam locked in bathrooms, or smashing furniture by throwing it against walls. Adam always only seemed angry or dead inside. This though, was something new.
Adam’s fingers curled around the shaft, picking it up, rubbing the head. Oliver’s breath caught, a shiver working through him, the urge to knock the hand away really strong.
Adam kept fondling him and stared at him without looking away, which made it impossible for Oliver to engage in eye contact.
I was staying with him at the time. Keeping him company. He came into my room one night, after I’d been studying for hours. Got into bed with me. I knew it was a terrible idea. He was only doing it because he was upset and lonely.
As Adam fondled his best friend, the minutes dragged out, and Oliver remembered Adam’s endless patience. Adam gathered up Oliver’s sac, rolling his balls. Staring at the ceiling, biting his tongue, Oliver felt the first twitch of his dick against Adam’s hand.
Adam pulled his hand out of Oliver’s pants. He threw back the sheet, got up on his knees, took hold of Oliver’s pajama pants with both hands and yanked them down to his ankles.
Oliver had told him, “Adam, I’m not your boyfriend.”
Adam chuckled. “You think I’m an idiot?” He grabbed the lube from the drawer in the nightstand, squirted a handful on his palm, spread it around. He wrapped the hand around Oliver’s dick and began tight, squelching tugs, lube dribbling between his fingers. “When’s the last time you had a relationship?”
Never was the answer, but Oliver didn’t trust his voice to speak. There was something dirty and wrong about letting Adam strip him and jerk him off that was making Oliver hard. In just a few squeezes, he was fully erect.
Smiling triumphantly, Adam played with it, pressing it down to make Oliver groan, knocking it back and forth, playing with the slit in a way that made Oliver’s legs turn to jelly.
“You’re alone. I’m alone. And I know what you like now.”
Adam laid down over him, licking Oliver’s bottom lip, angling to open him up wide, inhaling Oliver’s heavy breaths.
It was just hand release and kissing, but it felt like a total mind fuck. You have to understand, I’d lost my virginity at the age of fourteen. I’d been having sex regularly for many years. It wasn’t anything new, except it was. It was Adam.
Adam had played with him until he was right on the edge, his balls drawn up, ready to shoot, and then he stopped.
Adam climbed on top of him, straddling him, giving Oliver the deepest, dirtiest kiss Oliver had ever experienced, while masturbating. Maybe Oliver had just wanted it over, or maybe he’d just succumbed like Adam knew he would, but Oliver reached for Adam’s dick. It had been like an out of body experience to jerk Adam off for the first time. Adam fucked his hand and came fast, shooting over Oliver’s stomach. Then he’d leaned down and licked it all up with wide swipes of his tongue while slowly tugging Oliver to completion. Adam had opened his mouth to catch some of it, panting, and had rested his head against Oliver’s chest briefly before getting up and leaving without another word.
You know what he’s like. It kind of spiraled after that. The next week, during training, David bound and fucked me in the dungeon and I think it made Adam crazy to witness that. They were training us together, simultaneously, to work together and separately. They chained Adam to the wall, gagged, while David broke me. It was to show me what true helplessness felt like. It was consensual, but Adam hated it.
Rune wrote, I can imagine. He loves you.
Oliver had been lucky to get Adam out of there before he could deck David or one of his guards. They’d gone straight back to Adam’s place. Oliver had been sore, exhausted. Adam gave him a few tall glasses of whiskey, massaged his shoulders as they watched a movie together on the couch.
Then the movie ended. Adam shut off the TV, knelt in front of Oliver, spread his legs, opened his pants, yanked them down and off. It was dark, and Oliver was drunk, but he still remembered the hungry look on Adam’s face as he took his best friend’s cock into his mouth for the first time. He’d taken his time, coaxing Oliver hard, sucking him down to the root. The slurping and moaning sounds from Adam had seemed way too loud to Oliver, and way more obscene than the feel of the suction and silky rubbing of Adam’s lips and the soft grip of his tongue on Oliver’s cock. It sobered him up, fast.
Then Adam had started rubbing Oliver’s swollen hole, which had caused things to turn a corner for him. He’d stopped watching, started to push up into each suck, his hand on the back of Adam’s head to guide his pace. Which was when Adam fed two fingers through Oliver’s rim, reaching for his gland and massaging it as he kept sucking.
Oliver had barely been able to breathe. It was the best blow job he’d ever gotten. He came down Adam’s throat, then lay there, spread, letting Adam finger him while masturbating and licking at Oliver’s balls.
Rune wrote one word, then underlined it. What?
Oliver gave him the cliff’s notes version, not sure how to convey how confused it had made him feel, like he didn’t know who he was anymore, or who Adam was, or who they were to each other.
But maybe Rune saw something in his face, because he responded:
I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have done that. He just thought it was the best way to keep from losing you. He must have been so scared.
Oliver pushed the pad away, covering his head with his hands, breathing against the bedspread. The numbness was really strong. Rune kissed his neck and hugged him.
They laid there a while. Oliver marveled again at how easy it was to talk to someone who would never hear a word he said.
Eventually, Rune wrote: Tell me the rest. I need to know this.
Oliver accepted the pen from Rune and started writing.
It kept happening. It was a regular thing. He’d come to bed, or into the shower with me, or do it in the back of the car we’d hired. Blow jobs. He never asked me to suck him. And I never did. I don’t know why I let him. I mean, they were incredible, but they were so fucking confusing, because otherwise we were still just friends. He still brought guys home. I still dated or hooked up. We used protection with others but not with each other. It got to the point where just looking at his lips could make me hard. And as soon as I was hard, he could tell. He sucked me in his studio, in the office while I was trying to study, in the kitchen, at his grandfather’s estate when we visited for the holidays.
And one day, I just couldn’t take it anymore. We were in bed. He stared at my cock from the moment he walked through the door, the only thing on his mind, I guess. I wasn’t me to him anymore. I was just my dick. I was like a human fucking pacifier. And I was so, so angry at him for debasing me like that, for making me only good for that. That one thing.
He stopped writing, breathing harder, face flushed with shame. He felt Rune tighten his embrace, peppering kisses down his cheek.
He got in bed, started to shift down, leaning over me. I pushed him down, manhandled him onto his stomach, got on top of him, held him down. Fuck.
Rune took hold of Oliver’s hand holding the pen, setting it back on the paper, demanding more.
I pushed until I was inside him, and then I needed to puke. So I pulled out, ran for the bathroom, locked the door.
I stayed in there for an hour, feeling like I was going to die. Like I was going to jump off the fucking balcony.
When I came out he was sitting there with his hands folded. He came over and hugged me. Told me he was sorry.
A couple of days later, he met Italo. They became a steady thing. It was the last time. We still kiss. Touch. That’s it. It’s hard to talk about.
Rune asked, taking the pen from him:
Do you think he’ll ever do it again? Need you like that?
Of course, Oliver answered. Sometimes I miss it.
Maybe you should be together.
Oliver stared at him, rolled over. Shook his head vehemently. “No.” Drew Rune into an embrace, pulling him against his chest, cupping a hand behind his head. “No.”
Rune got on top of him. Oliver spread his legs, wrapping them behind him, offering his neck for Rune to kiss. His soft lips made a trail of them, down to Oliver’s chest, down to his navel, down to his cock where Rune kissed the root, the shaft, the tip. Then he wrapped his lips around the head to suck a deeper kiss, licked the drip of pre-come away, opened and let Oliver slide back into his mouth.
When his fingers found Oliver’s opening, teasing it, Oliver surrendered control. The need for power that fueled him and all of his balance slipped right through his fingers—a bolt of silk, yanked away. Giving over to need, he pressed down for more, thrust harder into Rune’s sweet mouth, quivered and let out a deep moan as Rune’s fingers entered him, searching for his gland.
Feeling frantic, Oliver rode it out, but Rune was still so calm, strong. He got up on his knees, sucking mostly on the tip, massaging Oliver’s sweet spot to milk him like an expert. Oliver was happy to not have to filter any of his cries for modesty. He just kept caressing Rune’s jaw, hooking a hand behind his ear, tugging at his black hair. When Oliver was about to come, Rune took every inch of him down his throat and Oliver growled, “Fuck…” as he shot, convulsing, giving Rune every last drip.
Rune was slow to release him, but Oliver wasn’t done. He lunged sideways, opened a drawer, rolled onto his back again and passed Rune the lube.
Raising his eyebrows, Rune’s surprised expression asked, Are you sure?
Oliver nodded, waved him on. Intuition hinted that maybe Oliver’s trepidation concerning Rune would settle faster if there was a more even exchange of give and take between them. If Oliver demonstrated just how much he trusted Rune, hopefully Rune would keep trusting in him just as much. Oliver wanted to own Rune, but he didn’t want to set any limits on the ways they could love each other, either.
Not wasting another second, Rune used the lube, lined up and entered Oliver like he’d just been waiting for permission since the first moment they’d met. A change came over him, his body strong, his rolling thrusts confident, his pleasure evident in the gasp of his mouth and the intoxicating moans coming from him.
Oliver wound his legs around him, pulling Rune’s ass in tighter, holding him by the back of the head to be kissed whenever he had the breath to do it. It ached but in the best way, and he knew he had to be tight. It had been years since he’d last bottomed for anyone. The delirious roll of Rune’s eyes and the frustration in his groans told Oliver as much too. Rune came quickly, panting, whimpering once while trying to bury his face against Oliver’s neck.
Rune’s arms wrapped around Oliver’s back, and he held there, inside him, just breathing, for a long time.