Chapter 9
Meeting Rune
“How’d he lose his hearing?” Jackson asked, loading the last of his dishes into the dishwasher. He’d made some chicken and sautéed vegetables for his midnight dinner, enjoying every bite in peaceful seclusion. It was something he craved about Oliver’s apartment—the chance to sit with his thoughts without a worry about waking anyone or having to turn in because Jo expected him. Oliver was a night owl too. Jackson’s odd schedule didn’t faze him at all.
Oliver had always urged Jackson to treat the apartment as his own, so he did. He had groceries delivered. Kept a closet full of clothes in the other guest room. His toothbrush and razor had a permanent place by the sink.
They hadn’t talked about it so directly, but Jackson never intended to leave him. Jackson was as invested in the relationship as he was his marriage. God help him if he ever had to choose between them. He couldn’t have done it.
Luckily, Jo understood.
Oliver sighed, leaned back against the kitchen counter with his arms folded. He’d put on a pair of black tailored pants but was shirtless, barefoot, and—Jackson would have bet the entirety of David Davenport’s fortune—commando. Oliver didn’t do underwear.
The scruff on his jaw made Jackson smile. It was a sign of Oliver’s state of distraction. Generally, Oliver couldn’t stand any facial hair and shaved it off twice a day. The slight growth on his jaw was a testament to Rune’s powers over him.
“You’ll get a kick out of this, I’m sure,” Oliver grumbled.
“What?”
“Neo-Nazis ran his motorcycle off the road. Intentionally.”
For a second, Jackson prayed it was a joke. Oliver’s deadpan expression told him it wasn’t. Closing the dishwasher door, Jackson straightened. “Oh hell no.”
“Yeah. Rune thinks they set him up. Followed him to a meet-up with a guy who never showed. As he was driving away, the truck trailed him, then caused the accident. Hit his head damn good when he was thrown from the bike. Shattered some bones in his inner ear. Lost plenty of skin.”
Jackson pointed a finger, getting angry. “Fuck that shit.”
Oliver walked over to the wet bar, poured some bourbon in a glass. Then poured a second and pushed it Jackson’s way before downing his entire glassful.
“He carries a gun. Had a friend bring it here the second day, but I took it. Jay, I think he wants to go after those fuckers,” Oliver said wearily.
“No shit. I want to go after the fuckers too.”
“But you won’t, because you’re ruled by logic first. Head over heart. Jo, Jada, Kayla—they’d keep you from doing it. He’s got nothing holding him back,” Oliver said, gesturing down the hall to where the shower was running quietly.
“Except you. And you can be a bastard about serious shit. I know you can.”
“Yeah. Might not be enough. Not with this. And if he does something stupid, gets a hole blown in his head, I couldn’t fucking take it, man. I couldn’t.”
Jackson frowned, drank his bourbon, letting it burn down his throat. “Cops?”
“Hearsay. No proof.”
Jackson set the glass down. Oliver poured them another round.
Not long after, Rune emerged wearing a beat-up old pair of jeans and a white V-neck t-shirt. Jackson thought he was even sexier with his eyes open, like he was built for fucking. His movements were cat-like, fluid, sensual. His wide-eyed gaze was so alert and intelligent; it gave Jackson chills. His silence added to the effect, transforming him into a creature designed to sneak up and pounce. The tattoos made him seem dangerous, dirty, and kinky. Jackson didn’t see anything he didn’t like.
“Jackson. Rune,” Oliver introduced, spelling the names with his hands too.
“You know sign language?”
“Getting there. One of my old tricks I’m having to relearn.”
Rune looked Jackson up and down. Jackson had more than a few years and some height on him, and was broader in the shoulders.
Rune signed something, his eyebrows going up in surprise, which Oliver laughed at before translating. “He said, ‘you submit to him?’”
“As much as I can,” Jackson grinned. Letting Oliver tell Rune for him. “Fuck, I need to learn sign language now too, don’t I?”
“I believe in you,” Oliver replied, coming over to kiss him. Humming, cranked up on lust, Jackson turned it dirty, licked into Oliver’s mouth, liking the taste of the booze on his tongue to spice things up a little. They never did scenes drunk, so it was a novelty to have him tipsy.
When the kiss ended, Jackson’s lips tingled. He took his refilled glass and went to sit on the leather couch. He sank down into it, legs spread wide, rolling his head on his shoulders.
Then he looked Rune dead in the eyes and raised his glass, “You’ve been through some shit, kid. I’m sorry.”
Oliver kept translating, Rune’s gaze dancing away long enough to catch the meaning before coming back.
He signed something to Oliver, to which Oliver replied with a nod of his head at Jackson. “Go on.”
Hands hooked in his pockets, Rune slowly, smoothly made his way over, the sway of his hips mesmerizing. Jackson set the glass aside, guessing where this was going. Rune came right up to where Jackson sat and moved to straddle him, sinking down onto his lap. His hands wound around Jackson’s neck, his fingers moving over the nape. Oliver circled around behind the couch and stood behind where Jackson sat.
“Permission to touch, sir?” Jackson asked, with Rune watching his lips so closely, it started to make Jackson hard.
“Yeah. Just watch yourself.” In a reflection of the glass of a framed photograph, Jackson saw Oliver’s hands moving, translating everything for Rune, who glanced from Jackson’s lips to Oliver’s signs.
Rune rolled his hips in a thrust against Jackson’s crotch. Jackson popped the button on Rune’s jeans, tugged at the zipper. Rune reached down and grabbed a handful of Jackson’s cock through his pants, drawing a deep chuckle.
“Doesn’t fuck around, does he?” Jackson commented.
Slipping both hands inside the back of Rune’s jeans, inside his boxers, Jackson squeezed a double handful of Rune’s cheeks. They were firm. Tight. Thick for a white guy. Rune’s eyes closed halfway, gazing down at him, his face in shadow. He traced up Jackson’s length, measuring him.
“You like that?” Jackson whispered. “Gonna stuff it deep inside your sweet virgin ass, soon as I get permission. You know that, right? Take our turns with you, all night long.” He caught movement in the reflection again, saw that Oliver continued to sign Jackson’s words, even the whispered ones.
“If you talk to him, make sure you’re enunciating your words so he can lip-read,” Oliver instructed.
“Yes, sir.” Jackson asked, “Does he beg?”
“Mmm. In a way,” Oliver replied.
“Good.”
There was a pause. Jackson saw Oliver’s hands moving, speaking in a way Jackson couldn’t hear. Rune’s gaze followed them as he rocked gently between Jackson’s hands and his crotch. He drew his hand away from Jackson’s dick, brought it back to circle Jackson’s neck instead.
“You’re giving him orders,” Jackson realized.
“I am.”
Rune pushed his ass out much farther, sinking down and beginning to trail light licks and soft kisses up from Jackson’s open collar, along the side of his neck.
“Touch his knot. Gently.”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said, eager to comply.
The first two fingers of his right hand shifted into Rune’s crack, causing him to freeze up for just a second, tensing at the touch. Jackson found his hole. It was puffed up, hot. He traced circles over it and brushed over the center.
“He’s swollen. It’ll hurt if we do anything else to him tonight,” Jackson said.
Oliver grabbed hold of Rune’s chin, drew his face up again, forcing eye contact, then speaking through sign. Rune sat back a little, just enough to reply in kind. Then told Jackson, “He’s not afraid of pain.”
Jackson felt Rune shiver, his head bowed.
“Let him go for a second.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rune got up on his knees, jaw clenched, face flushing but gaze deliberately set on Oliver and not diverting as he pushed his jeans down as far as they’d go, which was mid-thigh. Jackson saw Rune’s cock stretching the fabric of his boxer briefs, his hard-on growing. Then Rune sank down again, pushing out his ass, and reached back to pull the briefs down in back to expose his ass. His gaze came up again to look deep into Jackson’s eyes and watch his lips.
“Mmm, that’s it, baby. We got you,” Jackson hummed. “Scared?”
Rune squinted, his jaw clenched. He shook his head.
Oliver circled the couch again, spread some lube over Jackson’s fingers, then went back to where he’d stood before, watching over them both.
“Finger him. It’s okay to get rough.”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said, trusting his Master.
The tip of his middle finger found Rune’s swollen pucker and he could see the effort it was taking to maintain eye contact with Oliver. Jackson spread some lube over Rune’s rim, then fed the fingertip through to the first knuckle. Rune shuddered, strained, clenched up.
“Deeper.”
Jackson pushed it in to the second knuckle, the inside of Rune’s ass just as swollen as the rim, gripping him tighter than Jackson had felt in a long time. He gave Rune a moment, seeing him flush a deeper red, swallowing thickly, then Jackson buried the finger to the hilt and rubbed at Rune with it from inside.
“Nice?”
“Real fuckin’ nice.”
“Give him another. Give it harder.”
“Yes, sir.”
Oliver reached for Rune’s chin, holding his jaw to force his head to stay upright so they could communicate. Jackson withdrew and forced his wet index finger in as well, going in fast in a complete thrust, having to use extra force to get all the way inside. Rune grunted, trembled, arms tensed, panted for air through his nose.
“Finger fuck him. Test him. Spread him.”
“Yes, sir.”
Oliver tightened his grip on Rune’s jaw and Jackson went for it. Pumping both fingers, he set a quick pace, spreading them apart on the withdrawal, stretching Rune’s sore hole. He hooked both fingertips barely inside, spread them as wide as he could, drew a harder grunt, made him start to breathe even more heavily.
“Good. Use both hands. Spread him like that.”
Jackson slid his fingers out with a squelch, hooked both index fingers inside Rune, and pulled.
Rune whimpered, frowned, started to writhe.
“Hold him.”
Oliver let go and walked around while pulling something out of his pocket. A dental dam. He came up behind Rune and sank to his knees.
“Pull out. Just keep him spread.”
Jackson couldn’t see what Oliver did, but Rune’s cry broke free, his body convulsing in Jackson’s arms. Oliver’s mouth hovered by Rune’s exposed, swollen hole, bobbing slightly. Jackson heard soft suckling sounds, then Oliver sat back and reached out with a hand, his forearm flexing as he pushed for his target. Rune gasped, then yelled, convulsing even harder. Oliver steadied him with a hand to his back and kept at it.
Dropping his head, Rune muffled his next yell against Jackson’s shoulder.
“I’m massaging his gland very lightly, but it’s having quite the effect, don’t you think?”
Rune was restless, unable to stay still, but any amount of writhing didn’t deter Oliver or free him from Jackson’s prying. It went on and on, as Rune’s shouts softened to purrs, his body sweat-slicked and twitching. He panted against Jackson’s neck, gripped the back of Jackson’s head like he needed the anchor. A long, unending moan that broke apart sounded against Jackson’s skin.
“Let go,” Oliver told Jackson, who complied.
Oliver took hold of Rune by the hip, moving him, pulling him upright and back so he wasn’t leaning on Jackson at all. He guided Rune’s hands behind his head, his fingers lacing together there. Standing, Oliver reached between Rune’s legs and kept hold of his hipbone.
Rune’s eyes widened, jaw clenched on a grunt.
“I’ve got his gland trapped between my fingers,” Oliver said, and Jackson knew the technique, manipulating the sensitive area with a finger up the ass and a thumb pressed hard at the taint. “Pull his briefs down.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jackson stretched the elastic waist out far to get it around Rune’s erection, his cock dark, long and curved. It was soaking wet and leaking more in small pulses. He glanced down at Jackson staring at it, then let out a shuddering breath and averted his gaze again.
“Still shy,” Jackson smiled.
“Delicious, isn’t it?” Oliver did something that made Rune whimper sharply and strain, his arms and legs tensed. “Jerk him off. Spice it up.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
Jackson fondled Rune’s sac, his balls heavy and drawn up, while watching his eyes. A muscle in Rune’s jaw flexed as Jackson pulled, stretching the skin and drawing Rune’s balls away from his body, then squeezing gently. With his other hand, he wrapped Rune’s erection, stroking lightly through the wetness. He saw Rune’s eyes roll back and he swayed a little. Clear, viscous pre-ejaculate kept jetting from his slit. Jackson rubbed his thumb over it, pulling gently at the small opening, digging in the edge of his fingernail. Rune bucked, moaned, eyes closed tightly.
Jackson wrapped the plump-shaped head of Rune’s cut cock in a circle made by his thumb and index finger, then squeezed gently, more and more.
Rune let out a wavering cry, head bowed, grabbing his left wrist with his right hand and squeezing.
“Obedient,” Jackson observed.
“Yes, he is,” Oliver agreed.
Rune bucked again as Jackson kept squeezing harder. Oliver gripped him tighter to try to still him.
Jackson let his circled grip slide back to Rune’s root, squelching loudly, then stroked back up just as tightly and wrapped his whole hand around the crown, squeezing even harder.
A rough cry split the air. Oliver’s fingering moved Rune in small rocking rolls of his hips. Jackson relaxed his hold, then tightened it up, doing it over and over again.
A constant humming sounded from Rune, his face a picture of anguish.
Jackson started jacking him, hard and fast, and Rune shot, gasping, over the front of Jackson’s button-down shirt and his neck. Tugging him through it, desperate to taste his hot come, Jackson watched Rune’s exhaustion and surrender take over.
Oliver freed his hand and drew Rune back into a hug. Rune’s arms overlapped Oliver’s, holding on as he tried to catch his breath, his head leaned back against Oliver’s. Jackson caressed Rune’s thighs, his pelvis, his chest.
“Hard?” Oliver asked from over Rune’s shoulder.
“So fucking hard.”
“Me too.”
He moved Rune with Jackson’s help to lay on the couch. They cleaned off with wipes.
Then Oliver turned his sites on Jackson, the darkness in him taking over.
Jackson welcomed it.
For a moment they stood facing each other. Then he yanked open Jackson’s pants, possibly ripping the zipper, pushed him around and over the end of the couch.
“Two fingers. Now.”
Jackson didn’t waste time with lube and shoved two fingers up his own ass, as far as he could reach. He saw Rune watching, wide-eyed and enraptured.
Oliver was probably rolling on a condom.
Glancing back, he saw Oliver’s arm draw back far. The first strike hit him hard, square on his right cheek. It stung and more slaps followed. Perhaps letting out all of his anger at Rune’s situation, Oliver spanked Jackson until he was growling, his ass on fire, the skin soon oversensitive.
“Pull ‘em out.”
Oliver wasted no time, instantly replacing the fingers with his cock, driving into Jackson and pulling him back onto his length. Throbbing, Jackson shifted wider with a groan to accommodate him. Oliver kneaded Jackson’s sore cheek, scratched hard over it and slapped it again. Jackson clenched in reaction and Oliver hummed, riding him. He wasn’t gentle, taking him roughly, spanking every so often to keep Jackson tight and on edge.
Growing dizzy, from the edge of his vision, he saw Rune move, his hands drawing shapes.
Oliver paused. Then drew Jackson upright without pulling out.
“Arms behind your head. Cross ‘em.”
Jackson obeyed and Rune crawled down the couch toward him.
“Oh no,” Jackson moaned.
Oliver laughed.
Rune rolled a condom onto Jackson, then opened wide and swallowed him halfway down.
Moaning heavily, Jackson fought the urge to bury the rest of his length in Rune’s throat. Rune sucked hard, cheeks hollowed, tongue rubbing, those pretty pink lips stretched wide. Oliver resumed riding Jackson more gently now while Rune kept using his mouth.
“Fuck… please…” Jackson shuddered, wanted more than anything to grab Rune’s head and fuck his mouth. Instead, he let Oliver take hold of his crossed wrists and his hip, giving him complete, maddening thrusts.
Rune pulled off with a pop and a hungry moan, pushing Jackson’s cock up against his pelvis, licking with a flattened tongue up to the head, suckling on the crown, stretching his lips wide around it, then took it back over his tongue again and into his throat.
It got Jackson close, fast, but Rune seemed to realize it, so he backed off, licking more than sucking, playing with him with a hand, rolling Jackson’s balls.
Oliver came with a sigh, kissing Jackson’s neck.
He pulled out. Tossed the condom.
Rune stood, moved off the couch, then walked around, staring at Jackson like a wild animal.
“Uh-oh.”
Oliver snickered.
“Olly…”
“Hands off,” Oliver ordered.
Rune walked around behind Jackson, who pivoted to keep facing Rune, not trusting him to leave his sight. Rune backed him up to the ottoman in front of the couch.
The shove to the center of his chest drew a startled yell as Jackson fell back, landing square on the ottoman. Rune moved fast, springing onto Jackson facing his cock and not his head, then guided Jackson’s legs back as far as they would go. Oliver joined in, holding Jackson in the pose so he was folded in half by pushing on the backs of his ankles. Straddling Jackson’s chest, Rune swallowed him down with a hum. Hand tapered into a point, he pushed the whole thing at Jackson’s hole, prying it open.
“Fuck!”
Jackson groaned at the stretch, but thrummed with pleasure from Rune’s deep, sucking pulls. He held nothing back, taking as much of Jackson’s dick down his throat as he could, which was a little more than half.
“Oh, he’s so getting payback for this,” Jackson panted, then moaned at the continued burrowing of Rune’s hand.
“Don’t pretend you don’t love it,” Oliver grinned.
“This little fucker…”
In moments, Jackson came, panting, shuddering. Three of Rune’s fingers rubbed at the inside of Jackson’s hole, Rune’s tongue giving wide licks to the head of Jackson’s cock where come pooled in the condom.
“Okay yeah. I like this kid,” Jackson laughed, clenching around Rune’s fingers.
They let him straighten out, helped him sit up. Oliver handed him a towel and a glass of water. After catching Rune up on some of the threats Jackson made in the height of passion, he moved to massage Jackson’s shoulders.
“Seriously though. You told him he’s got it coming, right?” Pointing at Rune, he added, speaking the words as clearly as he could, “Watch your pretty ass.”
Rune blew Jackson a kiss, waving him on.
Grinning like the devil, Oliver just said, “Hey. I warned you.”