Page 73
Story: Master of Pain
I feel his eyes on me in the low light.
“Tell me about your mother,” I insist. My voice cracks with sleep and is barely louder than our breathing.
I feel Ethan’s naked body shift against mine as his fingers trail up my arm from my wrist to my shoulder. “My family really isn’t interesting compared to yours,” he tells me. The sleepiness in his voice makes it a bit lower than usual, and adds a softness that makes me hum and find his face with my own. I nudge his cheek with my nose.
“I wanna know about your family, Ethan Moore.”
Ethan’s legs tangle even more with mine and I feel his breath against the top of my chest and neck when he sighs. “My mom’s name is Annabeth, but she goes by Anne. She hates being called Beth.” His voice is quiet, but it cuts through the night and finds its way to my ears so fucking perfectly.
“Why?” I ask as I close my eyes and just listen to his voice. I trace circles on his lower back, and I feel him squirm every now and then. I smirk to myself.
Ethan reaches back and moves my hand to his hip instead, and I squeeze it firmly.
“Mm,” he hums.
“Distracted, tsk tsk,” I whisper.
He smacks my shoulder, barely making a sound, then places his hand back down. “I don’t know. Do you like being called Dan?”
I cringe. “Absolutely fucking not.”
“For the same reason as that, I suppose.”
I chuckle softly. “Point taken.”
The silence lingers for another moment or two, and I wonder if he’s falling asleep, but then he speaks again.
“Her and my dad were in college when they had me. They were just nineteen and twenty. My mother tells me the story at least once or twice a year. She’ll tell anyone who asks, and even those who don’t,” Ethan says with a long sigh. “According to her, they were rivals. Educationally, of course. They were always attempting to one-up each other. My mother usually got the upper hand, at least in her version of the story.”
I raise an eyebrow, though my eyes are still closed. “They didn’t stay rivals for long, clearly.”
“I donotlike to think about it, and my mom tries to brush over this part of the story, but I’m pretty sure they were sleeping together while still actively trying to trample each other in class,” he tells me, and I hear the embarrassment in his voice.“Regardless, they eventually realized most of the tension was their feelings for each other, and they started dating properly.”
“Properly.” I snicker. “You sound so traditional.”
“I am,” Ethan admits. “Or, I thought I was.” He clears his throat and continues. “They were only officially together for six months when my mom found out she was pregnant. She was terrified. My dad wasn’t. She says he’s the reason she didn’t lose her mind and drop out of school immediately.”
“They both stayed in school?” I ask, curious. Hearing about Ethan’s family history is oddly soothing.
“No, actually. My dad took a break from when I was born until I was a year old so she could focus on school,” he says.
“Wow, that’s…damn. Don’t know many guys who’d do that,” I say, genuinely shocked. I hold him closer to me and nuzzle my face against his cheek, slowly moving down to his neck, enjoying the warmth of our bodies under the blankets. They’re scratchy and dull compared to my own, but still.
“My father is…well, we don’t always get along, but he’s a good man. After a year, he continued school alongside her, just a year behind. My grandma died around that time. It was expected, since she was very sick, but it was really hard on everyone,” Ethan mumbles quickly, like he wants to move past that part. “So my grandfather moved in with them and took care of me while they were at school and work.”
“That must’ve given him somethin’ good to focus on.”
Ethan chuckles. “That’s exactly what he says. He says taking care of me made losing Grandma easier. He says I look just like her, too.”
It’s quiet for a long moment, sadness easing in, and I kiss his neck a couple times.
“You’ll have to show me a picture of her,” I insist.
I feel him nod.
“Do I even want to know howyourparents met?” Ethan asks.
“It’s not as bad as you’d think,” I reply.
“Tell me about your mother,” I insist. My voice cracks with sleep and is barely louder than our breathing.
I feel Ethan’s naked body shift against mine as his fingers trail up my arm from my wrist to my shoulder. “My family really isn’t interesting compared to yours,” he tells me. The sleepiness in his voice makes it a bit lower than usual, and adds a softness that makes me hum and find his face with my own. I nudge his cheek with my nose.
“I wanna know about your family, Ethan Moore.”
Ethan’s legs tangle even more with mine and I feel his breath against the top of my chest and neck when he sighs. “My mom’s name is Annabeth, but she goes by Anne. She hates being called Beth.” His voice is quiet, but it cuts through the night and finds its way to my ears so fucking perfectly.
“Why?” I ask as I close my eyes and just listen to his voice. I trace circles on his lower back, and I feel him squirm every now and then. I smirk to myself.
Ethan reaches back and moves my hand to his hip instead, and I squeeze it firmly.
“Mm,” he hums.
“Distracted, tsk tsk,” I whisper.
He smacks my shoulder, barely making a sound, then places his hand back down. “I don’t know. Do you like being called Dan?”
I cringe. “Absolutely fucking not.”
“For the same reason as that, I suppose.”
I chuckle softly. “Point taken.”
The silence lingers for another moment or two, and I wonder if he’s falling asleep, but then he speaks again.
“Her and my dad were in college when they had me. They were just nineteen and twenty. My mother tells me the story at least once or twice a year. She’ll tell anyone who asks, and even those who don’t,” Ethan says with a long sigh. “According to her, they were rivals. Educationally, of course. They were always attempting to one-up each other. My mother usually got the upper hand, at least in her version of the story.”
I raise an eyebrow, though my eyes are still closed. “They didn’t stay rivals for long, clearly.”
“I donotlike to think about it, and my mom tries to brush over this part of the story, but I’m pretty sure they were sleeping together while still actively trying to trample each other in class,” he tells me, and I hear the embarrassment in his voice.“Regardless, they eventually realized most of the tension was their feelings for each other, and they started dating properly.”
“Properly.” I snicker. “You sound so traditional.”
“I am,” Ethan admits. “Or, I thought I was.” He clears his throat and continues. “They were only officially together for six months when my mom found out she was pregnant. She was terrified. My dad wasn’t. She says he’s the reason she didn’t lose her mind and drop out of school immediately.”
“They both stayed in school?” I ask, curious. Hearing about Ethan’s family history is oddly soothing.
“No, actually. My dad took a break from when I was born until I was a year old so she could focus on school,” he says.
“Wow, that’s…damn. Don’t know many guys who’d do that,” I say, genuinely shocked. I hold him closer to me and nuzzle my face against his cheek, slowly moving down to his neck, enjoying the warmth of our bodies under the blankets. They’re scratchy and dull compared to my own, but still.
“My father is…well, we don’t always get along, but he’s a good man. After a year, he continued school alongside her, just a year behind. My grandma died around that time. It was expected, since she was very sick, but it was really hard on everyone,” Ethan mumbles quickly, like he wants to move past that part. “So my grandfather moved in with them and took care of me while they were at school and work.”
“That must’ve given him somethin’ good to focus on.”
Ethan chuckles. “That’s exactly what he says. He says taking care of me made losing Grandma easier. He says I look just like her, too.”
It’s quiet for a long moment, sadness easing in, and I kiss his neck a couple times.
“You’ll have to show me a picture of her,” I insist.
I feel him nod.
“Do I even want to know howyourparents met?” Ethan asks.
“It’s not as bad as you’d think,” I reply.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105