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Wren counted to three hundred, then walked into the kitchen and grabbed a couple of bottles of water from the counter. He checked his phone to make sure that Ravi wasn’t bringing home any friends, then sent him their quick code to let him know that he had someone over.
After that, he let Mouse out to the little grass patch out front for a last bathroom break, then snuggled up close in his dog bed. “Don’t be mad at me for locking you out,” he signed.
Mouse whuffed softly and nosed his cheek, then licked him on the chin as if to say, ‘I understand.’
Then he thought about how Percy was in Wren’s bedroom—naked, horny, waiting…
Obedient.
Wren’s hands were tingling, almost numb with the anticipation of being able to touch again. Of being able to put Percy where he wanted and draw everything out until he was a shaking mess.
Wren had only done this once or twice in his life, and while it had felt amazing, this felt like something else. There really weren’t words to describe the level he wanted Percy. It didn’t even make sense in his own head. He’d just known from the moment he set eyes on him in the bar he wasn’t going to be able to let him walk away again.
Wren was also still reeling from not being able to knock the fucker who’d hurt Percy into oblivion. He believed Percy when he said he wasn’t hurt, but there had been a look on his face Wren would never be able to shake.
It was a look he never, ever wanted to see on him again. It was something like terror, but it was also resignation, like he was used to being treated like that. To being used. And fuck if Wren let Percy ever feel like he deserved that kind of treatment.
But it wasn’t his place to get involved. Not now, and maybe not ever. Wren still had no idea what a future with Percy could look like because he had no idea how he was going to feel ten days from now, let alone ten years. What happened when the honeymoon phase faded? When he stopped wanting Percy every second of every day?
Wren had been there before, and the relationships always fizzled into nothing, leaving one person hurt and Wren dealing with guilt that was so overwhelming he almost couldn’t breathe. And the threat was a thousand times worse because Percy was worth so much more to him than his exes had ever been.
Now wasn’t the time to have some crisis in his living room though. Percy was waiting, and while Wren did love the idea of drawing out the anticipation, the man had suffered enough. He needed to be pulled apart and stitched back together, and Wren wasn’t sure he could be grateful enough that he got to be the one to do it.
After several calming breaths, he walked into his bedroom and stuttered to a halt. Percy was completely naked, sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs spread, his eyes closed, and his hands on his thighs.
He was trembling, and Wren had a feeling it was from the effort it took not to stroke his cock, which was fat and pink, curved upward toward his stomach. He was so beautiful Wren struggled to breathe for a moment.
“Look at you,” he whispered. He couldn’t hear himself, but he felt the air escape past his lips, and he saw the way Percy’s shoulders stiffened, then relaxed. “You’re so fucking good for me. You know that?”
Percy’s eyes remained closed, but he twitched at the sound of Wren’s voice. Wren had a sudden urge to put earplugs in him and a sleep mask over his eyes and force him to be stripped down and taken apart by touch alone.
And hell, maybe that was something he could do. Their ambiguous future felt vast and full of as much promise as there was a risk of losing, and Wren felt dangerously close to hope.
“Good boy,” Wren finally murmured. His voice felt too loud and too heavy, and he wished Percy was more skilled in sign. He would get there, but he wanted to be voice-off with him now. He wanted to bring Percy into his world and hold him there.
Percy’s lips parted, but whatever sound he made was below the range Wren could pick up. But he saw the way it moved Percy’s shoulders, and he approached the bed, letting his fingers trail over the side of his throat.
“You like that? Being my good boy?”
Still no noise, but there was a buzzing vibration under the pads of his fingers, and Wren let out a shuddering breath before tracing a line down Percy’s sternum, down and down until he was just centimeters away from where he knew Percy wanted to be touched most.
But he was going to make him wait for that.
Percy’s hips twitched, but it was obvious he was holding himself back.
Wren leaned in and placed his lips right against Percy’s ear as he murmured, “So perfect for me.”
This time, Wren picked up on the moan. It was low, stuttering out of his lungs like Percy was trying to keep quiet.
Curling his hand around the front of Percy’s throat, Wren used his thumb to tip the man’s chin up. “Don’t hold back,” he ordered.
Percy swallowed heavily, his Adam’s apple bobbing against Wren’s palm. He sucked in air, then moved his lips like he was going to speak, but all that came out was another stuttered moan. Wren glanced down to see that Percy’s cock was thick, pulsing, spilling a steady, clear stream of precome into his thick curls.
“You look so good like this,” Wren signed with one hand.
Percy’s pupils blew wide, and his mouth worked for a second before he asked, “Good? Like this?”
Wren’s lips stretched into a grin. “Yes,” he signed. “Good boy. Precious boy.” He signed it first, then repeated himself, and Percy’s hips shifted upward for a quick second.
