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Jack did come on Channon’s face when he got home. He ordered Channon to his knees and jerked himself off, watching Channon’s expression flicker from eagerness to disappointment at not being allowed to suck, finally settling on submissive acceptance.
Jack smiled down at him as he blinked his sticky eyelashes. “Welcome home, sweetheart.”
It was good to have Channon back where he belonged. Jack had him on the floor between his feet during dinner and hand fed him pieces of cold chicken and salad. And later, because Channon had been very good, Jack took him upstairs and fucked him in their bed. He even allowed Channon to come. Magnanimous of him, really.
After, Channon snuggled into Jack’s armpit and hummed. “Sir,” he said carefully, like he’d been thinking about this and finally decided how best to approach whatever was on his mind. “Can I talk to you about something?”
“Always,” Jack murmured, running his fingers through Channon’s sweat-damp hair. “About anything you want.”
“Do you think,” Channon said slowly, “that we could, um. Do more of that predicament bondage?”
Jack felt it thrill down his spine. “Want me to put you in a painful position, sweetheart? Torture you a little? Make you torture yourself?” He scored his thumbnail down Channon’s chest, leaving a pink welt behind. “I can do that. I’d love to do that.”
“It’s just…I think I’d like having to try hard to make you happy.” Channon squirmed around to look up at Jack with big, baby seal eyes. “You know I like that. And you like making me work hard for you, so…so it makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“It does.” Jack added a second score mark across the first, to form a cross. It was like and unlike a brand, he thought, his mark on Channon.
Was Ewan right about Jack being too much like his abusive ex? Because Jack had decided the man had abused Ewan, even if Ewan had thought he wanted it.
“Do you think you’d enjoy it? It can be strenuous,” Jack said honestly. “You might find it too much. I’d like to be sure you’d tell me if you didn’t want to do it anymore.”
Channon laughed softly, shaking his bangs down over his brow. His hair was getting long again, in need of a cut. “Maybe that’s what I’d like about it. Not liking it but doing it for you anyway.”
“But if you wanted to stop,” Jack insisted, pushing himself up on the pillows and looking Channon in the eye. “If you wanted to stop any of this. All of it. Would you tell me?”
This seemed to puzzle him. He came up on his knees, his hands curled on each naked thigh. “Stop…us?”
“The kink,” Jack clarified. “The things we do.”
Now he looked alarmed. “You mean if I wanted to stop being your boy?”
It felt sharp, a pain in Jack’s throat. “If you wanted.”
“But that’s what I am,” Channon said plaintively. His hands flexed, reaching out and then curling again. “You’re my Sir.”
“I am,” Jack reassured him, taking Channon’s hands and cupping them between his own. “That doesn’t ever have to change. But some parts of what we do are a lot. I don’t want you to go along with everything I want just because I want it,” he said, but it felt wrong to say aloud because he did want that. He wanted Channon’s blind obedience, his boundless submission. It was just that he couldn’t have it. Couldn’t and know himself to be a good person.
Anyway, Channon didn’t buy it for a second. His expression was deeply skeptical. “That’s not true, Sir. Don’t say that.”
Jack breathed out heavily. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I do want that. But I don’t want you to regret it one day. I don’t want you to remember me as the one who fucked you up,” he said, disliking saying it but having to.
Channon’s hands pulled back, but only so he could twist his fingers into Jack’s, holding on firmly. “I mean…maybe you fucked me up a little bit?” he said, smiling shyly. “Like, I might be a total pervert now. But I don’t mind. It’s worth it. Because I get you, and you let me…you don’t make me do things that really hurt me. And you don’t forget about me. And I know I can trust you, always. So.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I think it’s okay.”
“Yeah?” Jack squeezed Channon’s hands hard for a moment. “You think you won’t hate me one day?”
“I mean, it depends on what else you do,” Channon said solemnly. “Like, I don’t think it’s impossible for you to fuck me up some time between here and the rest of our lives. I just don’t think you’ll ever do it on purpose.” He sounded so sincere. Jack felt his chest loosen.
Perhaps Ewan had reason to worry about Channon. But Jack would do everything he could to make sure Channon never did. It was his job, after all, to take care of Channon. For the rest of their lives.
“Come here,” Jack said, tugging, and Channon came up to straddle his hips and be kissed. Jack stroked Channon’s cheeks with his thumbs, grateful to have him.
“So you want to do more predicament bondage,” he said, watching Channon’s cheeks pink up. “I think I can manage that. You’re going to regret asking for this,” he added with a grin.
Channon drew a shaky breath. “I mean, isn’t that the point?” He pulled his lip between his teeth. “You know, if you want, we could do it with Nate and Ewan. Like…in a ‘one of you is going to get hurt’ way?”
“Are you volunteering Ewan to be potentially hurt?” Jack asked, amused and pleased by the idea.
“He likes being hurt,” Channon said, wrinkling his nose. “He’s a masochist.”
Jack couldn’t help it. He laughed and kissed Channon’s brow. “He is. Sure. I’ll talk to Nate. But we might have to have a practice run first, so don’t get complacent.”
Sighing, Channon leaned his head on Jack’s shoulder, going soft and limp. “With you, Sir? I wouldn’t dare.”
Which was exactly as it should be.
