Scott blinked at him. A moment later, he felt a new blush rush to his cheeks. “Th-thank you for h-helping me b-build my confidence, sir.”
Joe smiled, but he shook his head. “I will see that you lose all this self-doubt rubbish, but that’s not something I expect you to be grateful for.”
Scott felt his blush deepen. “Thank you f-for wh-what we j-just did.” He shook his head. “Sex,” he blurted out, knowing he was an idiot for still finding it hard to say out loud when they weren’t actually screwing.
Joe chuckled and shook his head again.
Scott hesitated.
“Aren’t you glad I made sure that you don’t have to spend the rest of your life in a chastity cage?” Joe whispered in his ear.
“Yes!” It felt surreal to be thanking someone for grabbing him by the balls that way, but who was Scott kidding? Joe had had him by the balls since the first time Scott set eyes on him. “You m-made sure I d-didn’t screw up,” Scott said, realising how true that was as he said it. Joe had made sure that he didn’t let him down. “I am g-g-grateful for that, sir.”
“Good boy.” Joe gave him another brief kiss as a reward. Reaching into the wallet he wore on his own wrist, he made it clear why he’d needed the lube and condom from Scott’s wallet earlier.
Almost all the space in Joe’s wrist wallet was taken up by a blank envelope and piece of paper.
Joe handed it over. “You are going to have permission to come the next time we meet up, so you don’t need to waste your turn just asking me for an orgasm.”
Scott nodded his understanding.
When Joe stepped back, Scott straightened up and moved away from the wall. It was only when he turned around that he remembered that it was a one-way mirror that he’d been resting his arse against.
He looked at the envelope. Maybe he should ask that their next date take place somewhere where there weren’t any see-through walls?
He glanced at Joe—he was resting on the bed now, looking as relaxed and as carefree as it was possible for a man to be.
But he did care. Joe cared enough to try to get him over his stupid self-consciousness and show him that he was good enough to be of interest to other men. Joe cared enough to go easy on him and play nicely, even though he was used to guys who knew what they were doing and had to be bored to tears by babying him for so long.
When Joe beckoned him closer, Scott lay down next to him and rested his head on his shoulder. As Joe dozed and Scott’s cock hardened in response to their closeness, Scott turned his attention back to the envelope.
Joe didn’t need to be so careful and patient with him. Scott wasn’t an idiot. He’d never let himself believe that he’d be able to keep Joe interested in him forever. This was lust, not love, for either of them.
However, there was nothing Scott would refuse to do if it kept Joe interested in him for just a little longer. It was time Scott made that one hundred percent clear.
Part Eleven: Fragile – Handle with Care
Please show me what you would be doing with me if you thought I could handle anything and everything you are into, sir.
Scott had been aware that his latest request could lead damn near anywhere; but, while he was on the back of Joe’s bike and had his arms wrapped tightly around Joe’s waist, the destination didn’t seem important.
Being pressed up against Joe’s back, the vibrations of the bike, the smell of leather, and even the sound of the hulking great engine, all went straight to Scott’s cock. But, even more than that, they went to the part of Scott’s mind that was labelled Joe in big shiny chrome letters.
Joe.
Scott smiled wryly in the privacy of his helmet. He didn’t smoke. He drank very little. He’d never taken a drug stronger than aspirin. Yet somehow he’d still managed to fall down a rabbit hole and become an addict. He might have more survival instinct than to fall in love with Joe, but he was definitely addicted to Joe; and he trembled like a junkie who’d gone too long without a fix.
In real-world time, it hadn’t been long since he visited the sauna. The bruise around his wrist had only just faded away. But, in the timescale of addiction, it had still been far too long.
Scott tightened his grip around Joe. He had no idea how far they’d ridden. He’d had his eyes closed most of the time, simply clinging to Joe’s back and enjoying being so close to him. By the time Joe brought the bike to a halt and killed the engine, they could have been anywhere.
Scott opened his eyes. If anything, the world got darker. They were in an alleyway. There were no street lights. The moon was out, but it only provided enough light to see the larger obstacles.
Joe got off the bike and moved confidently around as if one of his many superpowers was better night vision than a predatory big cat. Scott moved more like a new born herbivore who had yet to work out how to operate his knees, or realise that big cats were dangerous.
The second time Scott cursed himself and whatever the hell he’d just tripped over, he sensed Joe turn his attention toward him. Unnecessary apologies were wrong. Scott got that. Unfortunately, he still didn’t have a clue how to work out which times counted as necessary.
He was still trying to work it out when Joe slid his arms around his waist. Scott tilted his head back, more than happy to be kissed anywhere, anytime, but Joe bent down, put his shoulder to Scott’s crotch, and tossed Scott unceremoniously over his shoulder.
