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fellowshippers2006-01-24 10:59 pm
smutcutter.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2006-01-24 10:59 pm
Don't Ask, Don't Tell (5/8)
Title: Don't Ask, Don't Tell (4/8)
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
smutcutter
Pairing: SB/OC (Harris)
Rating: NC-17 (for this chapter and scattered throughout)
Warning: This contains an original character... don't hate the playa...
Disclaimer: This is totally fake! Beyond fake! Never happened, never will - hell, some of the main characters are out my own demented mind.
Summary: Sean falls for a man, Harris - it was the best of times - it was the worst of times - it's told in many flashbacks - this is not a work in progress, it's done - I will be posting a chapter every few days. I want to thanktiggothy for her super fast and amazing beta work, hippediva for her constant support, and frahulettaes for everything....
Don't Ask, Don't Tell
by SmutCutter
CHAPTER 5
The last thing on his to-do list was, visit the family, with Sean in tow. Hell, Harris thought, might as well go the whole route and have him meet the family. His last action in the States would be to fly to Connecticut to see Mom and Dad for 3 weeks, then he would leave out of JFK for Heathrow - London - home, with Sean.
The day hung heavy with the threat of rain. Whenever the sun dared to peek out, a huge gray cloud would quickly block its path. Harris opened the back window of the station-wagon-cab a crack to inhale the crisp air of the late autumn. Sean reached over and patted his knee in the back seat.
“Can’t believe this. Thank you.”
“Mom watches your show, she’ll be so jealous.”
Tall trees still clung to turning leaves whizzed past as the cab crunched over the badly paved back road. He watched himself climb those trees, racing through them on his bike with his friends, and spotting the family of deer on the edge of the forest which was actually their back yard. He felt good, protected, the way he always felt when he went home.
Yet now, all the more exposed with Sean at his side. The cab slowed and climbed over the edge of the gravel driveway, picking its way down towards his parent's front door. The left side of the double garage was open to reveal all the Craftsman treasures, glass bottles and jelly jars sparkling with 10-penny nails, screws, and bolts.
The particle board covered with organized little holes was holding all of Dad's tools. You could never make sense of the jumble of it all, but God help you if Dad found something out of place, or worse, missing. His car was gone but Mom's Volvo was parked on the other side and Harris
swore he could already smell her perfume.
He stepped from the car as the driver pulled the bags from the back. He looked around the large expanse of front lawn and memories of last Christmas washed over him like a warm bath. He reached around and tightened the band on his ponytail, ran his fingers through
his hair and remembered how wet it had gotten during the yuppie snow ball fight Christmas Eve. Harris had laughed as he watched his brother-in-law-lawyer (married to his baby sister, Elizabeth) tear off his glasses and tie after one too many toasts with Mom's Christmas punch, diving into a drift and shouting a disclaimer of non-responsibility before every dripping snowball was lobbed.
He heard the metal storm door creak open.
"Harrison! You're early!" His mother, Elaine, bustled into the chilly air to embrace her son. She looked nothing like her 57 years, with her short bleached-blonde hair and slender build. Mom was still a knockout in a cocktail dress, Harris thought.
"Hey Ma." He kissed the top of her head. “Um.. this is Sean.”
Sean stepped from the other side of the cab and watched Harris’ mother go a little white.
“Oh my... it is ‘that’ Sean, you weren’t kidding.” Sean shook her hand while she stared, wide eyed.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Montgomery.”
“Oh my... please, it’s Elaine. But, where are my manners? Please, come inside.”
Harris paid the driver and lugged the bags into the front hall. As they hit the floor, the gears of the grandfather clock ground and it gently struck 3pm. He stared at it, a warm smile spread over his face. On nights growing up in this house, that clock had been his midnight companion, seeing him through sleepless nights and fending off the bogeymen. He slipped off his jacket and smiled wider when the comforting aroma of chicken soup hit his senses. He tossed his jacket over the banister and headed for the kitchen.
"Harrison?" Mother smirked and crossed her arms. He turned quickly and was suddenly twelve years old. Sheepishly, he hung up his jacket in the hall closet. Mother laughed and hugged him before she lead him into the kitchen, Sean bringing up the rear.
Elaine brought her son a steaming bowl of the soup and a hot cup of tea as he stared out the huge bay window looking out into the back yard; no other houses were in sight. Sean had taken to one of the bedrooms to freshen up.
Harris smiled as a bright red cardinal perched itself on the feeder and had lunch. Elaine placed down her own soup and tea and glanced at her son. She smiled a little remembering the little boy who would stare out that same window at the birds and animals for hours. He was still her little one then, her first born, her truest love. Now he's 32, she thought, but still my little one. She found herself reaching out to gently touch his arm; no longer the pliable skin of a child, but the muscled arm of a strong man. His hand covered hers and his eyes smiled. For a brief moment, the bond of mother and son crackled to life and renewed itself. He patted her hand and they both blushed, laughed gently and looked away. Before the moment was gone, Harris quickly winked at his mother and let a mischievous smile cover his lips. She burst out laughing.
"Oh God! That means you're up to something."
Harris laughed. "I always am."
Harris stretched and let down his hair.
"My God, that is getting long." Elaine gasped as the blond tresses tumbling over his shoulders and the back of the chair.
"Yea, I'm just glad you never made me cut it." He said with a smirk.
"I remember the rules the first year you asked to grow it. You were 15 years old, sophomore in high school." She smiled. "You had one semester, nine weeks, to get your grades up, keep your room clean and do your chores every week." She sighed and absently played with the handle of her mug. "For nine weeks your father prayed you would slip up somehow, but you didn't." She laughed quietly. "I was just jealous at how beautiful it was becoming." Harris blushed.
"Thanks Mom."
A strange silence fell. Harris knew the time was right but the words didn't come.
"Is everything alright, honey?" Elaine noticed her son's faraway expression.
"Yea." Harris nodded. "Everything's great, but . . ." He stopped himself.
Jesus, he thought, how do I do this? She knows I'm gay, but this is like telling her I'm basically getting married, without the ceremony or the grandkids. This makes it official - Ma, I'm gay. "Mom, there is something I want to tell you." He kept his gaze to the table. Elaine felt the panic rising.
Fearing the absolute worst, she tried to remain calm as her blood pressure bubbled to the top of her head.
"Yes, hon?"
"There is another reason I'm going to London." His eyes remained downcast.
Better doctors, she thought, irrationally. My god, you’re ill.
"Yes?"
"Yea, see. . .it's not only work. I'm moving there to live."
WHAT!?!?
"Oh."
"Mom, It’s Sean - "
And you're going to die together.
" - and, well, he means a lot to me - "
I knew you're being gay was a bad idea.
" - and he's asked me to move in with him."
Harris looked up and saw his mother's shocked expression, face white, eyes wide, Lancome non-moisture foundation began to bead on her upper lip.
"C'mon, Ma, you knew I was gay."
She nodded with pursed lips and closed eyes, her hand scrunched into a little fist on her lap. He leaned forward and gently touched her arm. Her muscles her tighter than a piano string and she began to tremble. She pulled away quickly.
"Mom?" He moved closer. She bolted from the chair and ran to the sink. Looking into the cool porcelain, she tried to regain the composure that was rapidly slipping down the drain. Harris was dumbstruck.
"Mom, I'm sorry. But its only London."
"How long have you known?" She muttered into the sink. Harris shrugged.
"Couple of months. He asked me to move in, then I told you about working in London. But I really wanted you to know about him."
The bastard who infected my child! Celebrity or not, I'll kill him myself!
She began to cry in huge gulping sobs. Harris watched her body convulse and desperately wanted to go to her.
"Mom? Why are you so upset? I've gone away before."
She turned suddenly, eyes red and swollen.
"Because I don't want my son to DIE!"
He's doing this so I don't have to watch my strong boy waste away.
"Its only a plane ride. Its only London. I don't understand this." He crossed his arms. "Got a great job lined up, Sean and I get along great, what's the matter?"
Elaine sniffed. "Well, there is no cure, now is there."
"What?"
"And, the doctors are supposed to be better in Europe - "
"Mother, what the hell are you going on about!?"
Elaine blew her nose. "You're going to save me from watching you die. People DIE from HIV Harrison!" She broke down again.
"Who the hell told you I was positive!?" He yelled, hands on his hips.
"God, it is true! Isn't that what you're trying to tell me!?!?! And that bastard up there did it to you didn’t he??"
Wait, my last test as clean, Harris thought, and we always use condoms anyway. "NO!"
Long pause as their eyes met. Sniff.
"You're not?"
"No."
Slight smiles.
"You don't have AIDS?"
Harris chuckled.
"No Mom, I don't."
Elaine steadied herself on the counter.
"Oh God, so you mean to tell me, you are honestly moving to London to be with someone you truly love? That's it?"
Love, there was that word again. For mom’s sake, he let it slide and nodded.
"And you thought I was -"
Elaine put her hand up. " - Please. Don't say it."
"C'mere."
Harris wound his arms around his mother and held on tight.
"You're boy is fine Mrs. Montgomery; and extremely safe."
She hugged him tighter, barely able to get her small arms around her muscled son.
"What an idiot I am." She whispered into his chest.
"No, Ma, you just love me."
Sean walked in on them, stopping short.
“Oops, excuse me.”
Elaine wiped her eyes. “Nonsense, just mother and son being silly. Hungry?”
She turned to fuss with nothing on the stove, Harris leaned back onto the sink and smiled.
The first two weeks in London were a blur to Harris. He had to learn his way around to his new job, then got lost twice trying to get back to Sean’s place. Now his own home. He really had to try and work that one into his brain. Sean’s place was his home. And Sean was right, the place was huge. He could have his own room if he wanted, but he fell into place in Sean’s room just fine. Sean had already cleaned out a corner of it in anticipation of Harris’ acceptance of his offer. He used the other room for a home office, his own space.
Sean appeared in the doorway and stopped to watch Harris fuss with cables for the new computer. The room was still a jumble of boxes and packing material.
“Need a hand?” Sean stepped in.
“Nope.. almost got it..” Harris stood and pressed the start up key on the new G5. It whirred to life.
“It’s alive!” Harris smiled, reached for his cigarettes and lit one. He turned to Sean who checked out the space.
“Very nice.”
“Thanks.”
Sean flopped into one of the overstuffed armchairs and glanced under the desk. There was the box that held all his letters to Harris neatly tucked there, he smiled.
“So, um.. I came to warn you.”
Harris laughed low. “Do I want to know?”
“Yea, well... “ Sean stood and walked over to Harris, hands behind his back. “It seems Daragh and the boys are rather pleased I finally got you out here. I see, a surprise party, of sorts, in your future when we hit the pub tonight.”
“Oh great. We gonna get a new set of dishes? Curtains?” He joked, crushing out his cigarette. Sean slipped his arms around Harris’ waist to stop him from bolting.
“No, just wanted you to be prepared. They just want to welcome you. Make you feel at home.” He searched Harris’ eyes. “I want to make you feel at home.”
Harris’ heart thudded in his chest and his stomach got that clench again; he slid his arms around Sean’s neck and tried to hide the slight shudder in them.
“You have. You really have. You just gotta know how weird this is for me. New place and all.” And committing to one person, his inner voice mocked, he smacked it away.
“I am just as scared as you.” Sean’s voice was low and he hugged Harris gently. “But I know how I felt being away from you. Didn’t want to go through that again.”
Harris had his own demons of that period he would rather forget too. Lots of them.
Harris stopped the talk with a kiss and Sean tugged at his hair.
“Want to break in this room now?” Harris mumbled against Sean’s neck, one hand traveling down to the rising bulge in Sean’s jeans.
“Yea.. I could go for that.”
Sean’s friends accepted Harris easily enough. He was not a nancy boy, as Daragh would say, in the usual sense. He was tough and didn’t take any shit and was not into public displays of affection. He blended in well enough with Sean’s friends that he began to hang out with the group whenever he could and no one thought anything of it. Yes, Harris was very good at playing things low key.
Tonight it was charity night, meaning Sean had donated a sizable amount to a local charity and now had to do the wine-and-cheese-champagne thing and make an appearance. He looked over his suit laid out on the bed, listened to the shower run. Harris would show up an hour after he did and play it cool. Shake hands, ‘nice to see ya, mate!’, maybe share a drink, then split up, meet back at home, Harris would park in the back garage. Harris had no problem at all with any of this. My personal life, he would say, is my own damn business.
He sat on the bed to pull on his socks and his big toe poked through a sizable hole.
“Shite.” He muttered and found his drawer lacking in black. Without thinking, he went to Harris’ dresser and rummaged for the right color. His finger smacked a small wooden box.
“Ow!” He recoiled and sucked the finger, pushed aside a few things to look at it. Curiosity got the better of him, he removed it and slowly opened the lid. Inside, set reverently in black velvet, were two gold piercing rings, with the letter ‘C’ engraved on them. He just stared dumbly at them, a million questions flooding his brain when he heard the shower stop. He whipped his head around, flushing red as if caught, shoved the box back in the drawer and closed it. Then he remembered to reopen it and grab a pair of black socks.
“Aren’t you going to be late?” Steph appeared in the doorway, newly shorn black hair and goatee freshly washed, smelling of expensive aftershave. Sean nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Yea, almost ready.” Sean dressed quickly.
“I didn’t mean to barge in. But I wanted to thank you for the tickets for tonight. Means a lot to me.” Steph walked in and settled on the window seat.
“It’s no trouble.” He brushed his hair, staring into the mirror.
“Well, thanks anyway. It’s an exhibit I’ve been dying to see. I missed it when it came to LA, then again, I wasn’t into photography that much then.”
He listened to the rustle of fabric as Sean pulled on a jacket and tie.
“And thanks for letting me spend my vacation here.”
Sean was intent on straightening his tie.
Steph sighed. “Thanks for letting me fuck your dog too, real hospitable of you.”
Sean didn’t look up. “Yea cheers, anytime.”
He stuffed his wallet into his pocket and slipped on his watch. “I’ll see you there then.” He smiled stiffly as he left.
“Yea. Bye.”
“Hey! You’re going to be late! The car is here already!” Harris came in from the bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel, dripping wet and otherwise naked.
“He just left.” Steph watched out the window as the car pulled away from the curb. “I don’t think he likes me.” Steph’s voice was low.
“Maybe it’s that new haircut.” Harris joked and pulled out his clothes for the night.
“Nah, call it a gut feeling. He was just acting all weird - preoccupied.”
Steph turned to face Harris, resting his elbows on his knees.
“He always gets like that before these things. Trust me, its nothing.”
Steph was staring at the floor. Harris walked over and lifted his chin with his finger. “Hey, he said this was my house too, and you are my guest. He didn’t say no to you staying here or visiting, so.. come on, k?”
Steph nodded, smiled weakly, Harris bent down to tongue kiss him.
Steph smirked. “Um, thought those days were over?”
“We don’t have to be there for an hour yet.” He pulled Steph up and wrapped his fingers around his neck. “I miss your long hair. But I can get into this.” Harris smiled.
Steph swatted his butt. “Get dressed, ya ho.” They laughed together and Harris went to his dresser, pulled open the top drawer and blinked, the little wooden box stared back at him.
“Hey, did you go in here?”
“No, why?”
He pulled out the box and noticed the catch was not closed properly.
“Oh shit.”
The gallery was a madhouse. Press, celebrities, hangers-on, friends and friends of friends all crammed into the newly refurbished, tastefully lit space. The walls displayed many forms of art, mostly photography, new and old, established works and up and coming artists.
Sean arrived fashionably late, posed with a few artists, smiled a lot, and shook a lot of hands on and off camera. He made sure he looked interested as the artist explained his latest work, the show’s centerpiece. Camera’s rolled and flashbulbs popped.
“I was going for a whole Neoclassical, yet modern realist sort of look. All people for one world.” The artist was tall and impossibly thin, long shaggy brown hair falling over his shoulders, and clothes which still had that thrift store look to them. “Do you see what I mean?”
Sean stared at the triple exposed jumble of faces swirled with red and blue, and nodded.
“Its extraordinary.” He drained his glass of champagne, excused himself and went off for a refill, hopefully of something stronger.
He spotted the head of hair first, getting a glass of champagne at the table. Harris turned and smiled.
“Hey. There you are.” He offered his hand, they shook and hugged politely, like friends would. “Brought you something.” Harris whispered and slipped a flask into Sean’s jacket. “They don’t have anything stronger here, I checked.” Sean smiled and took a deep breath and wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through that hair, but he had those damn questions, and they would have to wait.
“Thanks, where’s your friend?” They stood almost shoulder to shoulder and faced the crowd.
“Taking in the show.” He pointed across the room. “And talking to the photographer, it seems.”
Steph and the artist were in a highly animated conversation punctuated with ‘yes’ and “I know exactly what you mean!’. Sean shook his head, slipped some of the flask contents into a paper cup.
“I talked to him for ten minutes, didn’t get any of it.”
Harris nodded and stifled a laugh. “ You get the neo - whatever speech too?”
“It’s all bullocks to me.”
Harris bit a whole through his tongue. “Quit it, you are going to make me crack up.” Sean shoved a paper cup in his hand and filled it.
”Yea, well, maybe we need a good laugh.”
“Only if its a neo classical smear of shite?” Harris smiled wide and Sean laughed out loud.
An elegant lady dripping in Chanel couture and pearls turned her head at the sound. She handed off her empty glass and walked towards the giggling men.
“Harrison?” Her velvet voice made Harris’ blood turn to ice in his veins, his face paling.
“Mist... m’la.... Diana.” He managed to stammer. She offered a perfectly manicured hand for a chaste kiss. As he bent forward, she slipped the claws of her other hand over his scalp. “I am glad to see you here, I look forward to having you for dinner.” He knew she meant it literally. Sean just stared, dumbfounded. Harris mouth had gone dry as he stood.
“May In introduce Sean Bean, m’lady. Sean, Lady Diana Weddington.”
“Oh the champion dog breeder? A pleasure, m’lady.” Sean said with a smile.
Diana extended the same hand, but watched Harris closely as Sean bowed in greeting. His eyes spoke volumes.
’Oh I see.’ She purred. Sean stood, confused when she did not let go of his hand, but leaned in closer. “You have chosen wisely, Mr. Bean. He was always my favorite.” Sean’s eyes went wide, before he looked at Harris who seemed ready to disappear into the floor.
“Harris! You gotta come see this - “ Steph stopped short as Diana turned. He gulped as she smiled, one hand lifted to caress his cheek.
“You cut it. How sad. I’ll miss my salt and pepper shakers.” Her hand still possessive on Steph, she turned to smile at Harris. “You two were the prettiest together; all that hair!” She laughed softly, dipped her hand into her bag and handed Sean a card. “Do bring them by anytime, I am assuming Stephen is yours as well, never could get these two apart with a crowbar.” She whispered softly, placing her hand on Sean’s arm. His muscles hard as stone though he was still speechless.
“Well, I must be going. It was a pleasure to meet you, Sean, if I may call you that.” She kissed his cheek gently. “Bring them anytime.” She breathed and with another enigmatic smile and was swallowed by the crowd.
The three men stood frozen to the spot. Sean had a death grip on the business card that was still scented with Chanel #5. He slowly glanced at Harris, who looked at him once, then averted his eyes, glad he had his hair to hide behind. Steph found his voice first.
“Sean, we can explain.” He reached for his arm but Sean jerked away, eyes on fire that glared at Steph. Then, he turned and walked straight into the crowd, shook more hands and smiled having put his actor face back on.
Harris turned and headed for the back exit, Steph close behind.
********************
The spring breeze from the open patio doors caressed Harris' naked flesh and he suppressed a shudder. He shifted his bad knee on the black satin pillow but he remained kneeling and stared down at the intricate red oriental rug. He re-clasped his aching hands behind his back and grabbed his wrists. His knees were slightly apart, as per the Master's orders, and the breeze picked up again. The wind was so cool and gentle, his cock began to stir. He panicked and mentally talked it down. Stephen was right next to him, he could smell him, in the same position.
A pair of gentle hands lifted his hair from his shoulders and slipped a large clip in place to hold it back. He felt the ends of it brush his ass and he ridiculously thought that he needed a trim. Daring a sideways glance, he watched Stephen's black curls pulled back as well.
"Eyes down, Harris." A deep voice warned slowly and he shivered and made his eyes focus on a gold flower in the rug. The hours of meditative concentration he had been taught seemed to leave him completely as he listened intently to the hushed whispers of the two masters, Charles and Kane; but they were speaking too low for Harris to catch any actual words.
A stray lock of hair slipped into his eyes and his mind went to the task of counting his breaths. Five beats inhale, Five beats exhale. His muscles relaxed and he almost sat back on his heels. Carefully, he righted himself and he heard the authoritative clicking of the head master's riding boots on the flagstones outside. Next to those, an unidentified pair of beaten up black cowboy boots walked confidently, a black leather bag at his side. Last but not least, black leather pumps and killer legs... Diana.
"So, these are you choices for this year, gentlemen?" Diana spoke first. "A blond and a brunette. Going for the salt and pepper shaker look?" Mild laughter all around.
"Yes Diana." Charles smiled. Harris could always tell when Charles smiled.
"They both know the rules, passed your. . .exams?"
The man in the glossy riding boots began a slow circle around them and Harris suddenly felt like the carcass of an animal lost in the desert under a circling vulture. He shivered inside when a riding crop traced up his spine.
"Yes, Peter. They both sought us out and were more than willing." Kane spoke softly, taking a protective step towards Stephen as the English vulture sized him up.
"Good. Good. Names?" Diana asked as she sank regally into a large chair on a raised dais, like a queen.
"The blond is Harrison, he's mine. The black Irish is Stephen. He belongs to Kane." Charles lovingly caressed Harris’ hair and he bit his tongue so he wouldn't bark.
He also fought the urge to bolt through the open window and hop the fence. Sure, he thought, how far would I get naked? Imagine hailing a cab? Hey, he scolded himself, you wanted this, fucking thrill junkie! Harris ran through all the leg work he did to track down this house and become a member. Hell, sell my ass as a sex slave to any and all takers? Why not! Every sensual and sexual experience I can get? He felt his head spin. His stomach tied itself in knots and his muscles tensed. Oh shit.
The cowboy boots moved closer as the monster moved to the edge of the room and opened the parlor doors. A cocktail party was in full swing and suddenly the crowd of smiling faces began to flutter into the room with the kneeling, naked, men. The black bag was set down gently and an open friendly face crouched into view, dark eyes smiling, pushing a shock of dyed-black hair from his young face.
"Hey guys, I'm Vic. It's okay to look into my eyes, but I won't ask you to shake." Vic smiled as the boys relaxed. He looked to Harris. "You're Charles' right?"
Harris nodded. Vic rummaged around in his bag and came up with a gold nipple ring, a 'C' carved into the ball.
"Alright guys, your masters are gonna be behind you for when you start to pass out, if you pass out. I work at the Gauntlet and I've done this a hundred times and its over quick. So, just relax, okay?" He winked at Harris. "You're the stuntman - you'll probably fall asleep." He chuckled as
Harris bit a hole in his lip to hold in a laugh. Vic leaned closer. "Hey, when I'm done, I'm buying you guys a drink!" And with that he stood up.
Harris played with the onyx letter ‘S’ pinkie ring on his right hand that told the world what house he belonged to as one of its slaves when he heard Vic slip on the tight latex surgical gloves. His nipple rose up as it was swabbed down with antiseptic. He knew if he closed his eyes he would fall over and he was not allowed to look up at all those smiling faces clutching sparkling drinks. Thankfully, Charles was behind him, stroking his hair.
"Raise your head and close your eyes, Harris. It'll be easier." Charles whispered in his ear.
Harris took a deep breath and did just that. Then, a cloud of thought passed over his face. Easier? Easier?!?! Fuck that! He opened his eyes and tried to find a place to rest them. Peter readjusted his glasses and smiled slowly at Harris as he stared back defiantly. Sure, all eyes are on me, English! The clamp tightened on his left nipple and pulled it away from his chest, stretching it taut. He barely flinched as the needle was inserted and Peter licked his lips. He leaned back, never taking his eyes off Harris as Diana whispered something into his ear. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline and his heart beat thudded in his ears and around the point of the long needle. His breath was caught in his throat and little white dots began to dance before his eyes, but his gaze was locked on Peter and his muscles never faltered. The jewelry was inserted and closed, the area cleansed. Harris only knew it was done when his mind registered the polite applause of the group.
Charles eased him back on his heels and only when his balls grazed the carpet did he realize he was hard and covered with tiny beads of cold sweat. He let his eyes drop while Stephen was pierced for Kane. When Stephen made the slightest moan of ecstasy in his throat, Harris
thought he was going to make a mess on the beautiful carpet. His dick was still hard and he mentally begged to be touched.
The ceremony was over. They now belonged to the house. Harris was about to venture one more cocksure glance to Peter when he felt a very strong hand grip his ponytail and jerk his head back. His eyes met the burning orbs of the vulture himself.
"Your sweet ass is mine now, pretty boy. Go ahead, keep defying me. I'll make sure NO ONE touches you for a month. By order of the Lady herself." An evil smile spread across his full lips and he let Harris' head drop. Harris never let him see the smile and wink to Stephen who was smiling just as wide.
"Good job." Steph whispered.
"I know."
TBC
Author:
smutcutterPairing: SB/OC (Harris)
Rating: NC-17 (for this chapter and scattered throughout)
Warning: This contains an original character... don't hate the playa...
Disclaimer: This is totally fake! Beyond fake! Never happened, never will - hell, some of the main characters are out my own demented mind.
Summary: Sean falls for a man, Harris - it was the best of times - it was the worst of times - it's told in many flashbacks - this is not a work in progress, it's done - I will be posting a chapter every few days. I want to thank
tiggothy for her super fast and amazing beta work, hippediva for her constant support, and frahulettaes for everything....Don't Ask, Don't Tell
by SmutCutter
CHAPTER 5
The last thing on his to-do list was, visit the family, with Sean in tow. Hell, Harris thought, might as well go the whole route and have him meet the family. His last action in the States would be to fly to Connecticut to see Mom and Dad for 3 weeks, then he would leave out of JFK for Heathrow - London - home, with Sean.
The day hung heavy with the threat of rain. Whenever the sun dared to peek out, a huge gray cloud would quickly block its path. Harris opened the back window of the station-wagon-cab a crack to inhale the crisp air of the late autumn. Sean reached over and patted his knee in the back seat.
“Can’t believe this. Thank you.”
“Mom watches your show, she’ll be so jealous.”
Tall trees still clung to turning leaves whizzed past as the cab crunched over the badly paved back road. He watched himself climb those trees, racing through them on his bike with his friends, and spotting the family of deer on the edge of the forest which was actually their back yard. He felt good, protected, the way he always felt when he went home.
Yet now, all the more exposed with Sean at his side. The cab slowed and climbed over the edge of the gravel driveway, picking its way down towards his parent's front door. The left side of the double garage was open to reveal all the Craftsman treasures, glass bottles and jelly jars sparkling with 10-penny nails, screws, and bolts.
The particle board covered with organized little holes was holding all of Dad's tools. You could never make sense of the jumble of it all, but God help you if Dad found something out of place, or worse, missing. His car was gone but Mom's Volvo was parked on the other side and Harris
swore he could already smell her perfume.
He stepped from the car as the driver pulled the bags from the back. He looked around the large expanse of front lawn and memories of last Christmas washed over him like a warm bath. He reached around and tightened the band on his ponytail, ran his fingers through
his hair and remembered how wet it had gotten during the yuppie snow ball fight Christmas Eve. Harris had laughed as he watched his brother-in-law-lawyer (married to his baby sister, Elizabeth) tear off his glasses and tie after one too many toasts with Mom's Christmas punch, diving into a drift and shouting a disclaimer of non-responsibility before every dripping snowball was lobbed.
He heard the metal storm door creak open.
"Harrison! You're early!" His mother, Elaine, bustled into the chilly air to embrace her son. She looked nothing like her 57 years, with her short bleached-blonde hair and slender build. Mom was still a knockout in a cocktail dress, Harris thought.
"Hey Ma." He kissed the top of her head. “Um.. this is Sean.”
Sean stepped from the other side of the cab and watched Harris’ mother go a little white.
“Oh my... it is ‘that’ Sean, you weren’t kidding.” Sean shook her hand while she stared, wide eyed.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Montgomery.”
“Oh my... please, it’s Elaine. But, where are my manners? Please, come inside.”
Harris paid the driver and lugged the bags into the front hall. As they hit the floor, the gears of the grandfather clock ground and it gently struck 3pm. He stared at it, a warm smile spread over his face. On nights growing up in this house, that clock had been his midnight companion, seeing him through sleepless nights and fending off the bogeymen. He slipped off his jacket and smiled wider when the comforting aroma of chicken soup hit his senses. He tossed his jacket over the banister and headed for the kitchen.
"Harrison?" Mother smirked and crossed her arms. He turned quickly and was suddenly twelve years old. Sheepishly, he hung up his jacket in the hall closet. Mother laughed and hugged him before she lead him into the kitchen, Sean bringing up the rear.
Elaine brought her son a steaming bowl of the soup and a hot cup of tea as he stared out the huge bay window looking out into the back yard; no other houses were in sight. Sean had taken to one of the bedrooms to freshen up.
Harris smiled as a bright red cardinal perched itself on the feeder and had lunch. Elaine placed down her own soup and tea and glanced at her son. She smiled a little remembering the little boy who would stare out that same window at the birds and animals for hours. He was still her little one then, her first born, her truest love. Now he's 32, she thought, but still my little one. She found herself reaching out to gently touch his arm; no longer the pliable skin of a child, but the muscled arm of a strong man. His hand covered hers and his eyes smiled. For a brief moment, the bond of mother and son crackled to life and renewed itself. He patted her hand and they both blushed, laughed gently and looked away. Before the moment was gone, Harris quickly winked at his mother and let a mischievous smile cover his lips. She burst out laughing.
"Oh God! That means you're up to something."
Harris laughed. "I always am."
Harris stretched and let down his hair.
"My God, that is getting long." Elaine gasped as the blond tresses tumbling over his shoulders and the back of the chair.
"Yea, I'm just glad you never made me cut it." He said with a smirk.
"I remember the rules the first year you asked to grow it. You were 15 years old, sophomore in high school." She smiled. "You had one semester, nine weeks, to get your grades up, keep your room clean and do your chores every week." She sighed and absently played with the handle of her mug. "For nine weeks your father prayed you would slip up somehow, but you didn't." She laughed quietly. "I was just jealous at how beautiful it was becoming." Harris blushed.
"Thanks Mom."
A strange silence fell. Harris knew the time was right but the words didn't come.
"Is everything alright, honey?" Elaine noticed her son's faraway expression.
"Yea." Harris nodded. "Everything's great, but . . ." He stopped himself.
Jesus, he thought, how do I do this? She knows I'm gay, but this is like telling her I'm basically getting married, without the ceremony or the grandkids. This makes it official - Ma, I'm gay. "Mom, there is something I want to tell you." He kept his gaze to the table. Elaine felt the panic rising.
Fearing the absolute worst, she tried to remain calm as her blood pressure bubbled to the top of her head.
"Yes, hon?"
"There is another reason I'm going to London." His eyes remained downcast.
Better doctors, she thought, irrationally. My god, you’re ill.
"Yes?"
"Yea, see. . .it's not only work. I'm moving there to live."
WHAT!?!?
"Oh."
"Mom, It’s Sean - "
And you're going to die together.
" - and, well, he means a lot to me - "
I knew you're being gay was a bad idea.
" - and he's asked me to move in with him."
Harris looked up and saw his mother's shocked expression, face white, eyes wide, Lancome non-moisture foundation began to bead on her upper lip.
"C'mon, Ma, you knew I was gay."
She nodded with pursed lips and closed eyes, her hand scrunched into a little fist on her lap. He leaned forward and gently touched her arm. Her muscles her tighter than a piano string and she began to tremble. She pulled away quickly.
"Mom?" He moved closer. She bolted from the chair and ran to the sink. Looking into the cool porcelain, she tried to regain the composure that was rapidly slipping down the drain. Harris was dumbstruck.
"Mom, I'm sorry. But its only London."
"How long have you known?" She muttered into the sink. Harris shrugged.
"Couple of months. He asked me to move in, then I told you about working in London. But I really wanted you to know about him."
The bastard who infected my child! Celebrity or not, I'll kill him myself!
She began to cry in huge gulping sobs. Harris watched her body convulse and desperately wanted to go to her.
"Mom? Why are you so upset? I've gone away before."
She turned suddenly, eyes red and swollen.
"Because I don't want my son to DIE!"
He's doing this so I don't have to watch my strong boy waste away.
"Its only a plane ride. Its only London. I don't understand this." He crossed his arms. "Got a great job lined up, Sean and I get along great, what's the matter?"
Elaine sniffed. "Well, there is no cure, now is there."
"What?"
"And, the doctors are supposed to be better in Europe - "
"Mother, what the hell are you going on about!?"
Elaine blew her nose. "You're going to save me from watching you die. People DIE from HIV Harrison!" She broke down again.
"Who the hell told you I was positive!?" He yelled, hands on his hips.
"God, it is true! Isn't that what you're trying to tell me!?!?! And that bastard up there did it to you didn’t he??"
Wait, my last test as clean, Harris thought, and we always use condoms anyway. "NO!"
Long pause as their eyes met. Sniff.
"You're not?"
"No."
Slight smiles.
"You don't have AIDS?"
Harris chuckled.
"No Mom, I don't."
Elaine steadied herself on the counter.
"Oh God, so you mean to tell me, you are honestly moving to London to be with someone you truly love? That's it?"
Love, there was that word again. For mom’s sake, he let it slide and nodded.
"And you thought I was -"
Elaine put her hand up. " - Please. Don't say it."
"C'mere."
Harris wound his arms around his mother and held on tight.
"You're boy is fine Mrs. Montgomery; and extremely safe."
She hugged him tighter, barely able to get her small arms around her muscled son.
"What an idiot I am." She whispered into his chest.
"No, Ma, you just love me."
Sean walked in on them, stopping short.
“Oops, excuse me.”
Elaine wiped her eyes. “Nonsense, just mother and son being silly. Hungry?”
She turned to fuss with nothing on the stove, Harris leaned back onto the sink and smiled.
The first two weeks in London were a blur to Harris. He had to learn his way around to his new job, then got lost twice trying to get back to Sean’s place. Now his own home. He really had to try and work that one into his brain. Sean’s place was his home. And Sean was right, the place was huge. He could have his own room if he wanted, but he fell into place in Sean’s room just fine. Sean had already cleaned out a corner of it in anticipation of Harris’ acceptance of his offer. He used the other room for a home office, his own space.
Sean appeared in the doorway and stopped to watch Harris fuss with cables for the new computer. The room was still a jumble of boxes and packing material.
“Need a hand?” Sean stepped in.
“Nope.. almost got it..” Harris stood and pressed the start up key on the new G5. It whirred to life.
“It’s alive!” Harris smiled, reached for his cigarettes and lit one. He turned to Sean who checked out the space.
“Very nice.”
“Thanks.”
Sean flopped into one of the overstuffed armchairs and glanced under the desk. There was the box that held all his letters to Harris neatly tucked there, he smiled.
“So, um.. I came to warn you.”
Harris laughed low. “Do I want to know?”
“Yea, well... “ Sean stood and walked over to Harris, hands behind his back. “It seems Daragh and the boys are rather pleased I finally got you out here. I see, a surprise party, of sorts, in your future when we hit the pub tonight.”
“Oh great. We gonna get a new set of dishes? Curtains?” He joked, crushing out his cigarette. Sean slipped his arms around Harris’ waist to stop him from bolting.
“No, just wanted you to be prepared. They just want to welcome you. Make you feel at home.” He searched Harris’ eyes. “I want to make you feel at home.”
Harris’ heart thudded in his chest and his stomach got that clench again; he slid his arms around Sean’s neck and tried to hide the slight shudder in them.
“You have. You really have. You just gotta know how weird this is for me. New place and all.” And committing to one person, his inner voice mocked, he smacked it away.
“I am just as scared as you.” Sean’s voice was low and he hugged Harris gently. “But I know how I felt being away from you. Didn’t want to go through that again.”
Harris had his own demons of that period he would rather forget too. Lots of them.
Harris stopped the talk with a kiss and Sean tugged at his hair.
“Want to break in this room now?” Harris mumbled against Sean’s neck, one hand traveling down to the rising bulge in Sean’s jeans.
“Yea.. I could go for that.”
Sean’s friends accepted Harris easily enough. He was not a nancy boy, as Daragh would say, in the usual sense. He was tough and didn’t take any shit and was not into public displays of affection. He blended in well enough with Sean’s friends that he began to hang out with the group whenever he could and no one thought anything of it. Yes, Harris was very good at playing things low key.
Tonight it was charity night, meaning Sean had donated a sizable amount to a local charity and now had to do the wine-and-cheese-champagne thing and make an appearance. He looked over his suit laid out on the bed, listened to the shower run. Harris would show up an hour after he did and play it cool. Shake hands, ‘nice to see ya, mate!’, maybe share a drink, then split up, meet back at home, Harris would park in the back garage. Harris had no problem at all with any of this. My personal life, he would say, is my own damn business.
He sat on the bed to pull on his socks and his big toe poked through a sizable hole.
“Shite.” He muttered and found his drawer lacking in black. Without thinking, he went to Harris’ dresser and rummaged for the right color. His finger smacked a small wooden box.
“Ow!” He recoiled and sucked the finger, pushed aside a few things to look at it. Curiosity got the better of him, he removed it and slowly opened the lid. Inside, set reverently in black velvet, were two gold piercing rings, with the letter ‘C’ engraved on them. He just stared dumbly at them, a million questions flooding his brain when he heard the shower stop. He whipped his head around, flushing red as if caught, shoved the box back in the drawer and closed it. Then he remembered to reopen it and grab a pair of black socks.
“Aren’t you going to be late?” Steph appeared in the doorway, newly shorn black hair and goatee freshly washed, smelling of expensive aftershave. Sean nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Yea, almost ready.” Sean dressed quickly.
“I didn’t mean to barge in. But I wanted to thank you for the tickets for tonight. Means a lot to me.” Steph walked in and settled on the window seat.
“It’s no trouble.” He brushed his hair, staring into the mirror.
“Well, thanks anyway. It’s an exhibit I’ve been dying to see. I missed it when it came to LA, then again, I wasn’t into photography that much then.”
He listened to the rustle of fabric as Sean pulled on a jacket and tie.
“And thanks for letting me spend my vacation here.”
Sean was intent on straightening his tie.
Steph sighed. “Thanks for letting me fuck your dog too, real hospitable of you.”
Sean didn’t look up. “Yea cheers, anytime.”
He stuffed his wallet into his pocket and slipped on his watch. “I’ll see you there then.” He smiled stiffly as he left.
“Yea. Bye.”
“Hey! You’re going to be late! The car is here already!” Harris came in from the bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel, dripping wet and otherwise naked.
“He just left.” Steph watched out the window as the car pulled away from the curb. “I don’t think he likes me.” Steph’s voice was low.
“Maybe it’s that new haircut.” Harris joked and pulled out his clothes for the night.
“Nah, call it a gut feeling. He was just acting all weird - preoccupied.”
Steph turned to face Harris, resting his elbows on his knees.
“He always gets like that before these things. Trust me, its nothing.”
Steph was staring at the floor. Harris walked over and lifted his chin with his finger. “Hey, he said this was my house too, and you are my guest. He didn’t say no to you staying here or visiting, so.. come on, k?”
Steph nodded, smiled weakly, Harris bent down to tongue kiss him.
Steph smirked. “Um, thought those days were over?”
“We don’t have to be there for an hour yet.” He pulled Steph up and wrapped his fingers around his neck. “I miss your long hair. But I can get into this.” Harris smiled.
Steph swatted his butt. “Get dressed, ya ho.” They laughed together and Harris went to his dresser, pulled open the top drawer and blinked, the little wooden box stared back at him.
“Hey, did you go in here?”
“No, why?”
He pulled out the box and noticed the catch was not closed properly.
“Oh shit.”
The gallery was a madhouse. Press, celebrities, hangers-on, friends and friends of friends all crammed into the newly refurbished, tastefully lit space. The walls displayed many forms of art, mostly photography, new and old, established works and up and coming artists.
Sean arrived fashionably late, posed with a few artists, smiled a lot, and shook a lot of hands on and off camera. He made sure he looked interested as the artist explained his latest work, the show’s centerpiece. Camera’s rolled and flashbulbs popped.
“I was going for a whole Neoclassical, yet modern realist sort of look. All people for one world.” The artist was tall and impossibly thin, long shaggy brown hair falling over his shoulders, and clothes which still had that thrift store look to them. “Do you see what I mean?”
Sean stared at the triple exposed jumble of faces swirled with red and blue, and nodded.
“Its extraordinary.” He drained his glass of champagne, excused himself and went off for a refill, hopefully of something stronger.
He spotted the head of hair first, getting a glass of champagne at the table. Harris turned and smiled.
“Hey. There you are.” He offered his hand, they shook and hugged politely, like friends would. “Brought you something.” Harris whispered and slipped a flask into Sean’s jacket. “They don’t have anything stronger here, I checked.” Sean smiled and took a deep breath and wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through that hair, but he had those damn questions, and they would have to wait.
“Thanks, where’s your friend?” They stood almost shoulder to shoulder and faced the crowd.
“Taking in the show.” He pointed across the room. “And talking to the photographer, it seems.”
Steph and the artist were in a highly animated conversation punctuated with ‘yes’ and “I know exactly what you mean!’. Sean shook his head, slipped some of the flask contents into a paper cup.
“I talked to him for ten minutes, didn’t get any of it.”
Harris nodded and stifled a laugh. “ You get the neo - whatever speech too?”
“It’s all bullocks to me.”
Harris bit a whole through his tongue. “Quit it, you are going to make me crack up.” Sean shoved a paper cup in his hand and filled it.
”Yea, well, maybe we need a good laugh.”
“Only if its a neo classical smear of shite?” Harris smiled wide and Sean laughed out loud.
An elegant lady dripping in Chanel couture and pearls turned her head at the sound. She handed off her empty glass and walked towards the giggling men.
“Harrison?” Her velvet voice made Harris’ blood turn to ice in his veins, his face paling.
“Mist... m’la.... Diana.” He managed to stammer. She offered a perfectly manicured hand for a chaste kiss. As he bent forward, she slipped the claws of her other hand over his scalp. “I am glad to see you here, I look forward to having you for dinner.” He knew she meant it literally. Sean just stared, dumbfounded. Harris mouth had gone dry as he stood.
“May In introduce Sean Bean, m’lady. Sean, Lady Diana Weddington.”
“Oh the champion dog breeder? A pleasure, m’lady.” Sean said with a smile.
Diana extended the same hand, but watched Harris closely as Sean bowed in greeting. His eyes spoke volumes.
’Oh I see.’ She purred. Sean stood, confused when she did not let go of his hand, but leaned in closer. “You have chosen wisely, Mr. Bean. He was always my favorite.” Sean’s eyes went wide, before he looked at Harris who seemed ready to disappear into the floor.
“Harris! You gotta come see this - “ Steph stopped short as Diana turned. He gulped as she smiled, one hand lifted to caress his cheek.
“You cut it. How sad. I’ll miss my salt and pepper shakers.” Her hand still possessive on Steph, she turned to smile at Harris. “You two were the prettiest together; all that hair!” She laughed softly, dipped her hand into her bag and handed Sean a card. “Do bring them by anytime, I am assuming Stephen is yours as well, never could get these two apart with a crowbar.” She whispered softly, placing her hand on Sean’s arm. His muscles hard as stone though he was still speechless.
“Well, I must be going. It was a pleasure to meet you, Sean, if I may call you that.” She kissed his cheek gently. “Bring them anytime.” She breathed and with another enigmatic smile and was swallowed by the crowd.
The three men stood frozen to the spot. Sean had a death grip on the business card that was still scented with Chanel #5. He slowly glanced at Harris, who looked at him once, then averted his eyes, glad he had his hair to hide behind. Steph found his voice first.
“Sean, we can explain.” He reached for his arm but Sean jerked away, eyes on fire that glared at Steph. Then, he turned and walked straight into the crowd, shook more hands and smiled having put his actor face back on.
Harris turned and headed for the back exit, Steph close behind.
********************
The spring breeze from the open patio doors caressed Harris' naked flesh and he suppressed a shudder. He shifted his bad knee on the black satin pillow but he remained kneeling and stared down at the intricate red oriental rug. He re-clasped his aching hands behind his back and grabbed his wrists. His knees were slightly apart, as per the Master's orders, and the breeze picked up again. The wind was so cool and gentle, his cock began to stir. He panicked and mentally talked it down. Stephen was right next to him, he could smell him, in the same position.
A pair of gentle hands lifted his hair from his shoulders and slipped a large clip in place to hold it back. He felt the ends of it brush his ass and he ridiculously thought that he needed a trim. Daring a sideways glance, he watched Stephen's black curls pulled back as well.
"Eyes down, Harris." A deep voice warned slowly and he shivered and made his eyes focus on a gold flower in the rug. The hours of meditative concentration he had been taught seemed to leave him completely as he listened intently to the hushed whispers of the two masters, Charles and Kane; but they were speaking too low for Harris to catch any actual words.
A stray lock of hair slipped into his eyes and his mind went to the task of counting his breaths. Five beats inhale, Five beats exhale. His muscles relaxed and he almost sat back on his heels. Carefully, he righted himself and he heard the authoritative clicking of the head master's riding boots on the flagstones outside. Next to those, an unidentified pair of beaten up black cowboy boots walked confidently, a black leather bag at his side. Last but not least, black leather pumps and killer legs... Diana.
"So, these are you choices for this year, gentlemen?" Diana spoke first. "A blond and a brunette. Going for the salt and pepper shaker look?" Mild laughter all around.
"Yes Diana." Charles smiled. Harris could always tell when Charles smiled.
"They both know the rules, passed your. . .exams?"
The man in the glossy riding boots began a slow circle around them and Harris suddenly felt like the carcass of an animal lost in the desert under a circling vulture. He shivered inside when a riding crop traced up his spine.
"Yes, Peter. They both sought us out and were more than willing." Kane spoke softly, taking a protective step towards Stephen as the English vulture sized him up.
"Good. Good. Names?" Diana asked as she sank regally into a large chair on a raised dais, like a queen.
"The blond is Harrison, he's mine. The black Irish is Stephen. He belongs to Kane." Charles lovingly caressed Harris’ hair and he bit his tongue so he wouldn't bark.
He also fought the urge to bolt through the open window and hop the fence. Sure, he thought, how far would I get naked? Imagine hailing a cab? Hey, he scolded himself, you wanted this, fucking thrill junkie! Harris ran through all the leg work he did to track down this house and become a member. Hell, sell my ass as a sex slave to any and all takers? Why not! Every sensual and sexual experience I can get? He felt his head spin. His stomach tied itself in knots and his muscles tensed. Oh shit.
The cowboy boots moved closer as the monster moved to the edge of the room and opened the parlor doors. A cocktail party was in full swing and suddenly the crowd of smiling faces began to flutter into the room with the kneeling, naked, men. The black bag was set down gently and an open friendly face crouched into view, dark eyes smiling, pushing a shock of dyed-black hair from his young face.
"Hey guys, I'm Vic. It's okay to look into my eyes, but I won't ask you to shake." Vic smiled as the boys relaxed. He looked to Harris. "You're Charles' right?"
Harris nodded. Vic rummaged around in his bag and came up with a gold nipple ring, a 'C' carved into the ball.
"Alright guys, your masters are gonna be behind you for when you start to pass out, if you pass out. I work at the Gauntlet and I've done this a hundred times and its over quick. So, just relax, okay?" He winked at Harris. "You're the stuntman - you'll probably fall asleep." He chuckled as
Harris bit a hole in his lip to hold in a laugh. Vic leaned closer. "Hey, when I'm done, I'm buying you guys a drink!" And with that he stood up.
Harris played with the onyx letter ‘S’ pinkie ring on his right hand that told the world what house he belonged to as one of its slaves when he heard Vic slip on the tight latex surgical gloves. His nipple rose up as it was swabbed down with antiseptic. He knew if he closed his eyes he would fall over and he was not allowed to look up at all those smiling faces clutching sparkling drinks. Thankfully, Charles was behind him, stroking his hair.
"Raise your head and close your eyes, Harris. It'll be easier." Charles whispered in his ear.
Harris took a deep breath and did just that. Then, a cloud of thought passed over his face. Easier? Easier?!?! Fuck that! He opened his eyes and tried to find a place to rest them. Peter readjusted his glasses and smiled slowly at Harris as he stared back defiantly. Sure, all eyes are on me, English! The clamp tightened on his left nipple and pulled it away from his chest, stretching it taut. He barely flinched as the needle was inserted and Peter licked his lips. He leaned back, never taking his eyes off Harris as Diana whispered something into his ear. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline and his heart beat thudded in his ears and around the point of the long needle. His breath was caught in his throat and little white dots began to dance before his eyes, but his gaze was locked on Peter and his muscles never faltered. The jewelry was inserted and closed, the area cleansed. Harris only knew it was done when his mind registered the polite applause of the group.
Charles eased him back on his heels and only when his balls grazed the carpet did he realize he was hard and covered with tiny beads of cold sweat. He let his eyes drop while Stephen was pierced for Kane. When Stephen made the slightest moan of ecstasy in his throat, Harris
thought he was going to make a mess on the beautiful carpet. His dick was still hard and he mentally begged to be touched.
The ceremony was over. They now belonged to the house. Harris was about to venture one more cocksure glance to Peter when he felt a very strong hand grip his ponytail and jerk his head back. His eyes met the burning orbs of the vulture himself.
"Your sweet ass is mine now, pretty boy. Go ahead, keep defying me. I'll make sure NO ONE touches you for a month. By order of the Lady herself." An evil smile spread across his full lips and he let Harris' head drop. Harris never let him see the smile and wink to Stephen who was smiling just as wide.
"Good job." Steph whispered.
"I know."
TBC
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That's 4 -
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and that's 3 - if you still have problems, let me know and I will email you the chapters - SO happy you are liking it!