Page 19

Chapter 18

Louis

Ever since the break-in, we’ve barely left the apartment. Maurice sent one of the Black Claws to fix the shattered door and told me to take a few weeks off work. I expected to feel wired and antsy after all we just went through, but somehow, I feel calmer than I have in weeks.

Sparrow spends most of the time sleeping, and even though he might be neglecting his schoolwork, his well-being is more important. Our usual routine looks like this: After breakfast, I crawl back into bed with him, and we spend the rest of the morning snoozing and cuddling. Sometimes I’ll doze off and wake up to his face mere inches away. Our noses brush as he slowly parts his mouth over mine, his small tongue flicking over my lips and begging for entry.

Sometimes he asks me to touch him, and I reach a hand down to grip his swelling cock. “More,” he tells me, and I roll over him, lay my body heavy over his as I grip both our erections in my hand and use the slide of our precum to bring us both to climax. Sparrow looks half-asleep most of the time. His only encouragements are his quiet whines and the occasional buck of his hips. After it’s done, he sighs, cuddles up to me, and goes back to sleep.

Other times, he wakes me up by nudging his ass to my crotch while we’re spooning. After making sure he’s awake, I slick myself up with lube, lift his leg for easier access, and press inside his tight heat. The little whimper he lets out when I breach his hole has me nearly coming on the spot.

“Feels good?” I’ve started to communicate with him more than I would have with lovers in my past. I didn’t use to care so much—sometimes not at all—but now my priority has quickly become to make him feel good while at the same time not overriding his boundaries. I still don’t trust him to tell me if I do, so instead, I overcompensate by asking for his reassurance with every little step I take. “You like that?”

“Mm, yes,” he whispers.

“Tell me how I make you feel.”

“I like…,” he says breathily, struggling to talk through his pleasure but at the same time eager to obey me. “I like feeling you inside. Like feeling you on me. In me. You’re so strong, and so… b-big ,” he chokes out.

I spread his legs apart wider by my grip in the crook of his knee. “Touch yourself.”

His hand flies to his cock, and it doesn’t take long before his breath hitches and his body stiffens up. “Oh…I’m gonna come. I’m gonna…Louis!” He whimpers my name as if he’s looking for approval—as if he’s so overwhelmed, he needs my guidance in this.

“Go ahead,” I grunt. “Good boys always come when they’re split open on a big cock.”

That does it. With another squeeze of his hand, he erupts, shooting milky-white drops all over his taut stomach. It goes on and on, seems like it’ll never stop, and as his ass squeezes my cock relentlessly, I can’t hold back anymore; I shoot my release deep into him, stars dancing before my very eyes.

“You liked that?” I ask him once I’ve caught my breath.

“Yeah.” He sounds half-asleep already.

“Anything you didn’t like?”

“No. You’re so good to me, Louis. So good. How about me? How did I do?”

I sigh into his hair. “You’re perfect. Such a good, sweet boy.”

“You like fucking me?”

“Yeah, I love fucking you. Your hole is the best I’ve ever felt. So tight and warm.” I clutch his waist and drag my fingers up the mess on his stomach. “And your cum…” I bring my hand to my lips and lick, groaning at the taste. “The sweetest.”

He whimpers, and I almost think he’s about to get hard again, but then he lets out a deep, shuddering breath as his body relaxes further. I make a move to pull out of him, but his hand flies to my hip.

“No, don’t. Stay with me.”

“Okay, sweet boy. I’ll stay with you.”

I pull the covers back over us, and we fall asleep just like that, with my arm slung tightly and possessively around his waist. Sometimes he wakes me up by clenching his ass around me, and I lazily thrust into him a few times, mostly for his sake, so he can go back asleep feeling safe. So he can know I’m still with him, still inside him.

When we finally get ourselves out of bed, I order us takeout to avoid going to the store, and we eat as usual in front of the TV.

Sparrow points and laughs excitedly at the events on the screen. I’ve started to let go of my inherent stiffness to instead show my own reactions as well. One time, I laugh out loud at a funny movie. Sparrow quiets and stares up at me, and his smile is bright enough to light up the world.

We laugh, we rest, we fuck, we eat, and everything we do, we do together. A month ago, I was used to doing everything by myself, and I liked it that way, but I must admit it’s nice to have someone to share my life with. More than nice. I find that the more I hang out with Sparrow, the less I want to hang out with anyone else. Other than Ravi—who’s all right, I suppose—I’d be totally fine with just having Sparrow by my side. Humanity as a whole can succumb to some terrible fate, and as long as I have him, I won’t be fazed. The fewer people on this earth, the fewer people to harm him. The fewer people to tear him away from me.

We haven’t talked much about the break-in. Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t know what to say. He seems like he’s doing all right, though, despite the circumstances.

One early morning, we get an unannounced guest. Sparrow is still asleep, so I make sure to close the bedroom door to allow him some peace and quiet. Not that it will help much, as the guest turns out to be none other than Ravi.

He barges into the apartment, looking furious. “When the fuck were you gonna tell me what happened?”

“I thought Maurice would tell you.”

“Well, he hasn’t!” Ravi snaps, throwing his hands up. “And even if he had, maybe I’d prefer to hear it from the source. We’re supposed to be friends, you know.”

“Quiet down, will you,” I growl. “Sparrow’s still asleep.” Ravi clamps his mouth shut, looking sullen. I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ve kind of had my hands full over here.”

“Oh, I bet,” Ravi says, a sudden smile lighting up his face.

“I don’t want to hear about it,” I grumble.

“How is he? I’m not talking about that , so don’t Hulk out on me, please; I’m talking about the break-in. He doing all right?”

“He’s okay.”

“How the hell could this happen?”

“Well, clearly we underestimated Eric Fletcher and what his idiot brain could conjure.”

“What if he comes back?”

“He won’t.” But if he does, I won’t hesitate to kill the fucker this time.

“Yeah, I heard he and Tyler were pretty messed up when they left town. People are talking about you.”

“Let them talk.”

Ravi nods to the bedroom door. “So…what are you going to do about him?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Do?”

“Don’t you think you should teach him some basic self-defense moves at least? In case something like this happens again?”

“Didn’t seem like he needed it.”

Ravi gives me an odd look, but I’m thankful he doesn’t ask. I don’t feel like telling him about how Sparrow launched himself at Eric like a wildcat and slashed at him with the knife. How out of control he was. The whole thing makes warning bells go off in my mind, and I can’t keep consulting Ravi anytime something happens with Sparrow that I don’t understand.

And before that…When Eric had a knife to his throat…I haven’t felt that scared in a long time. Maybe ever.

I managed to keep my cool though. If my father taught me anything of use, it’s to never show fear in front of dangerous men. As a dangerous man in my own right, I know what he meant; fear is titillating. When your enemy shows fear, like Eric eventually did, your veins surge with adrenaline and power. There’s a certain kind of high that comes with knowing you can do anything to the other person, hurt them in any way…Maybe Sparrow liked it too, and I can relate to that, but he lacked control, which I relate to even more.

I grimace. Again, just like with the issue of consent, I’m the last person on earth who should teach Sparrow about these things. But what choice do I have? He has no one else, and even if he did, I wouldn’t let them come anywhere near him. Even Ravi.

“You could take him to the gym,” Ravi suggests. “Wouldn’t hurt to put some muscle on that skinny frame.”

He’s right, but at the same time, it wouldn’t help much against an attacker. Speed and agility are Sparrow’s best bet in a fight. Besides, I enjoy his body the way it is, just like he enjoys mine. I can’t take him to the gym I frequent anyway; it’s full of big, tattooed men like me, and I don’t want to spend all my time barking at them like a guard dog as soon as they come within three feet of my boy.

“How about weapons, then?” Ravi asks. “You could teach him how to shoot a gun.”

Guns…Yeah, that could be useful. It’s not like Sparrow can go prancing around town with one, but in case another situation arises with an attacker in our home, he’d do well knowing how to handle a weapon with range. Ideally, I don’t want to ever let him out of my sight again, but I know that’s not possible. This might be the next best thing.

Sighing, I glance toward the bedroom door, where Sparrow is still sleeping soundly, unaware of what dangers might come his way.

I have to do this, and I will. I’ll teach him everything I know. Everything. Except in terms of self-hatred, of course, because in that particular subject, we are both all too skilled.