Fletcher was drowning, and he was giving Taylor the water hose and the lid to the tank.
Taylor released Fletcher’s hand and reached down to stroke him. A ripple of pleasure shot through Fletcher’s body as Taylor jerked him off. “You like that, baby boy?” Taylor asked him roughly. Every thrust unraveled Fletcher more and more.
“Are you my fucking daddy, Taylor?” Fletcher asked, fully out of spite. He didn’t sound like himself. He sounded completely unwound. Insane, even. “Am I your good boy?”
Taylor ignored him and sped his stroking. Taylor didn’t like hearing it. It was a reminder of him messing everything up every single time Fletcher said it.
“Fuck, Tee. You feel so fucking good.”
Fletcher knew it hurt Taylor, deriding him like that. But he didn’t really care. Fletcher was hurting too.
Taylor kissed the side of Fletcher’s head. His temple. His cheek. His nose. “You’re so beautiful,” Taylor whispered against his skin. He sounded soft and loving. “I love you.” His lips brushed over Fletcher’s.
No matter how hard he tried to provoke him, Taylor wasalways sweet.
Fletcher didn’t want fucking sweet.
“I love you, Fletcher,” Taylor told him again, with a hint of urgency. Like he was worried that Fletcher would stop loving him if he didn’t constantly remind him. Which would never happen.
Fletcher loved Taylor. Too fucking much. He couldn’t live without him. He tried, but the thought of separation made things worse. At this point, he lived to breathe the same air as Taylor. He woke up every morning just to make sure Taylor was right there. He went to sleep in Taylor’s arms every night because otherwise he couldn’t sleep. It was all so fucked up. He hated Taylor. He hated himself. He loved Taylor.
With a loud cry, Fletcher came in Taylor’s hand, shooting his cum all over the wall of the shower. Fletcher felt his whole body collapse. The coldness of the tile felt nice meeting with his warm skin as he was pinned against the wall. The steam in the bathroom had smothered the room, making it hard to breathe.
Taylor quickened his thrusts, sending Fletcher over the edge. His vision went black. His ears rang. For a minute, he was nothing. He was in an empty void of nothingness.
“Fuck, baby,” Taylor cried out, his deep voice reverberating through the entire room. He finished inside Fletcher, filling him with everything he had. Fletcher clenched around him, milking his release. Taylor let out uneven breaths against Fletcher’s lips.
“Taylor,” Fletcher breathed out. His heart rang. For a minute, it was just them in the world. No one else existed outside of that bathroom. Fletcher let himself believe that everything would be okay. That they were okay.
His love for Taylor was the only thing he had that was still allhis.
Even then, his parents were slowly slithering their way into their relationship. By controlling it in any way they could. They were keeping Taylor on a short leash. Even shorter than Fletcher’s.
And they had no choice but to listen because of the dirt they had on Taylor’s younger brother. Something that could break Taylor’s reputation beyond ruin. But that’s what his dad did. Leverage was his leash. Blackmail was his collar.
“I’m sorry,” Taylor said softly, pain filling his voice. Fletcher couldn’t count the number of times Taylor apologized. But nothing had changed. Not really. He was still mad at Taylor for putting him in such a tough spot. For not fighting. For giving in.
Taylor connected their lips in a kiss full of desperation, and Fletcher allowed it. He hummed as he deepened it. Taylor let out a deep sigh of relief. It told Fletcher that he still had hope. That things would get better.
“You’re perfect,” Taylor told him, breaking away from the kiss. He slowly started to pull out of Fletcher, but Fletcher quickly shook his head to stop him.
“Please don’t.” It came out as a whisper. He didn’t want to feel the emptiness that came after. Not yet.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” Taylor told him, sincere and full of regret. “I fucking love you.” He kissed Fletcher again. “I can’t live without you.”
Fletcher’s heart clenched. He was drowning. He felt numb. He was empty. He hated him.
But he needed him more than anything.
“Tell me I’m yours,” Fletcher begged. He needed to hear him say it. If he wasn’t Taylor’s, then there was no point in living. “Tell me you’ll never leave me.”
“You’re mine, sweet boy,” Taylor promised, with pain lingering in his voice. But there was still a hint of familiarity there. A reminder of good times. “I’m never fucking letting you go. Not again. I love you, Fletcher. God, I love you, sweetheart.”
Taylor backed him into a corner. Held Fletcher’s hand as he signed his life away for the next three years. Told him that it would be fine. As long as they were together, nothing else mattered. Fletcher didn’t believe him. He couldn’t. Taylor knew how weak they made him. His family. Fletcher finally had a taste of freedom. A legacy of his own. And now, because of Taylor, he was losing it. All of it. It was all for nothing.
Fletcher hated him.
“Take me to bed and fuck me again, daddy.”
