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Chapter Three
Nathanispacinglikean idiot the next morning when Benny lets himself into the bedroom 3 fucking minutes past the time they agreed on. He goes still, refusing to let his anger ruin his chance of getting to see Carter again. The boy is as beautiful as ever. His hair is fluffed on one side. His sweater and pants - or, more accurately,Nathan'ssweater and pants - are wrinkled, one shoulder of his sweater falling off to reveal pale skin.
“Sorry we're late," Benny says as Carter shuffles past him and into the room. He gravitates towards the closet door, and Nathan has a feeling he knows why. It's a back-up plan. A place to go. Nathan had left him alone yesterday when he went in there, and Carter probably assumes the same would be true today.
“Thanks, Ben.”
“No problem.” Benny’s eyes slide to Carter before settling back on Nathan. “It was a rough night. Just… let me know if you need me.”
Guilt eats away at Nathan’s gut, but he forces himself to simply nod and promise he will.
The moment Benny is gone, Nathan turns to Carter. The boy won't look at him, his eyes locked onto the floor. It takes everything in Nathan not to go to him. To wrap his arms around him. Apologize. Promise things will be okay. Kiss him until he smiles. Then kiss him some more just for the hell of it. He forces himself to talk instead. "Feel free to use the bathroom if you need to. Shower. Brush your teeth. Comb your hair. Whatever. Door open, of course."
“And if I don’t want to?” Carter asks the floor.
Nathan just stares at Carter, slightly speechless. “I mean… if you don’t have to use the bathroom and don’t care about your hygiene, I guess you don’t have to?”
“Where’s my butt plug?” Carter snaps.
The sudden change of subject catches Nathan off guard but he gets it together quickly. Carter wants to keep this strictly business. Nathan can respect that. He fucking hates it, but he can respect it. "It's on the dresser. I washed it, as usual."
“Do I have to wear it?”“Yes…”
Carter huffs, still refusing to look at him. “And the lube?”
Nathan glances at the dresser again. It’s right next to the plug, in plain sight. “On the dresser as well…”
“Great.” Carter takes a deep, shaky breath before crossing his arms and heading over to the dresser. He's very careful not to let his eyes roam anywhere near Nathan. Nathan pretends that doesn't hurt as much as it does. "Don't you have any smaller plugs?"
Nathan looks over to find the boy holding the plug in one hand and the lube in the other. The glare he has fixed on the toy is fucking impressive. Something itchy forms in Nathan's chest. "I have smaller ones, yes. But I can - I mean,youcan take your time and properly prepare yourself in here, something I can't do in front of my men. So, if I -youget yourself prepared for a bigger plug, then later if I wind up having to take it out and fuck straight into you, you won't get hurt."
“You could just not fuck me.”
“Yeah, sure,” Nathan growls, frustration starting to crawl along his skin. "I'll just randomly stop fucking my sex slave, even when my men urge me to. That'll make total fucking sense. I mean, it's not like it's your only purpose for being here or anything, right?"
Carter’s eyes finally snap up to look at him, narrow and angry. Nathan starts drowning in guilt. “Carter, that was-”
“Go fuck yourself,” Carter says, cutting him off. He turns on his heel and stalks towards the bathroom.
“Don’t close the door,” Nathan calls before Carter can slam the bathroom door shut.
“Fuck you,” Carter says in a voice Nathan can tell was meant to be far angrier and more intimidating than it ends up being.
“Carter-”
“Stop.” Carter squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before looking at Nathan again. “I hate you.”
“I know…”
“I fuckinghateyou.”
Nathan nods. “I know, Carter. I know.”
A single tear falls down Carter’s cheek.
Then Carter goes into the bathroom, closing the door halfway. Nathan sits on the edge of the bed and buries his face in his trembling hands, trying to breathe.
Today is going to be fucking hell.
