He closed the door, cutting off the connection between himself and the monotone drudgery he desperately wanted to leave behind. Heart racing, he secured the lock, knowing the one responsible for his heartbeat was waiting. Knowing the one that gave him a purpose to rise out of bed in the morning was waiting.
Riley spent eight hours waiting for him, and that was eight hours too many. The second their lives tore them apart for the day, time became one of their worst enemies. Every second felt not even like an hour-more like a week. Their nights together weren’t long enough. The tension-ah, yes, the tension behind the relationship quickened the already swift rhythm of his heart. What they were doing was wrong, oh so wrong, but that helped to make it feel oh so right.
He, Director Cossack Keane Silvos, was going against everything the world had laid out in front of him-and damn, did it feel good. What was he was about to plunge into would feel oh so good. Those eyes. He turned, and there they were. Blue, innocent, waiting, longing. Pleading. That slender, dainty figure was enveloped in white and blue linen, touched with the moonlight spilling in from the windows. His stepson couldn’t have looked any more beautiful. Was he naked? Perhaps that lithe little body was draped against the sheets, waiting. Waiting. Waiting, so much waiting. But for the night, all of it was about to come to an end.
He spoke, treading upon Riley’s gentle panting and their fervent heartbeat. He tried to remain calm, but far too much time had separated them. So much had kept them apart.
“Did you make it here alright?” he asked, breathless.
He was about to be reunited with his air, all that made sense. It was impossible to not feel like a child waiting to open a Christmas present. His son’s blue eyes pierced him like arrows, shining like embers in their hotel room, glistening with an array of emotions: fear, wonder, excitement, sadness.
“I think so,” he replied, trembling.
Underneath those moon-kissed sheets. His eyes darted to and fro.
“How about you? Made it without any trouble?” Cossack grimaced.
There was always trouble. There was a galaxy of trouble between them, all of it coming from the worlds they were bound to. But behind closed doors, they weren’t father and son. He wasn’t the director of a corporation, Riley wasn’t a student-they weren’t anything but each other’s air.
“If only I could say there wasn’t any trouble,” he growled.
The anger wasn’t directed at the dove wrapped up in sheets, however – it was directed at everyone responsible for the conferences, the dealings, the emails, the phone calls. The time spent away from Riley. Riley. He darted towards the one kissed by moonlight as though he were racing towards the surface, lungs clamoring for air. Riley didn’t move-definitely not wearing any clothes-but his eyes said enough.
Their bodies met, hearts racing. Riley’s bare skin meeting Cossack’s body was like a dozen matches striking paper. Hands clamped down on the back of his head, fingers ran through his short black hair-breathless, ephemeral escape, every second of it beautiful, wonderful, inescapable Cossack buried him in kisses. He buried Riley in kisses even knowing it was impossible for his stepson to breathe. He couldn’t bury him in enough kisses.
“I’m sorry, so sorry,” he panted, apologizing for the conferences, the front he had to put up around his mother, everything. The apology came back as a flurry of kisses, each one deeper than the last. It was amazing, exhilarating how Riley spoke in kisses, his longing coming through gentle yet ravenous strokes of his lips. Such a petite creature…
They became entangled in one another, lost in fervent destruction and wonder. It was wrong, oh so wrong, but that’s what helped to make it feel oh so right. There weren’t any more words; no more words were needed.
They kissed, fought against the sheets, hardened against each other, softened against each other. Softened against the night, in a passionate counter against the day’s harsh hours. They were going to have to go back eventually, but at that point in time, nothing else mattered. Nothing else could matter.
They spent the last eight weeks living the same story-illicit lovers meeting in a hotel room every night, forgetting everything that separated them. Knowing only each other, and being blissfully content with that ignorance. Riley set his bags down in their newest room’s hotel room, blue eyes glistening with a flicker of hope. Things were on the verge of changing-either for the better, or for the worst. After living through countless nightmares, the younger half of the story chose to believe in fairy tales. After all, he was in love with what happened to be the most beautiful man alive.
Sure, the man turned out to not only be the director of a prestigious corporation – he also turned out to be his new stepfather. But was there anything about Riley Mercer that wasn’t strange? Could anyone answer that? His mother certainly couldn’t. His so-called “friends” couldn’t offer too much help with that question either. He had always been different.
Before Cossack fell out of the sky, it seemed as if his fate was to live like Quasimodo, as some beast that deserved to spend the rest of its life in a tower. Far away from the pure, holy world. Riley could remember being tormented by his classmates ever since the beginning of third grade, with one of them-Scott Vermont, wasn’t it? – laughing at his drawing of a pink flower, proceeding to call him a ‘faggot’. ‘Only girls like pink stuff’, Scott sneered, his face nothing but a set of malicious eyes and fangs. Scott was the one responsible for giving him the nickname ‘Girly Girl Riley’.
Some even took to calling him ‘Princess Riley’. While Merinda Mercer’s son looked to fairy tales for comfort, having his classmates mock him-mock the only things he could believe in -kind of made life much harder to bear. It didn’t end there. The harsh light of memories flicked in young blue eyes, counterattacking the hope that had just been born. Nightmares seemed to go on forever, whether he was at home or at school. It wasn’t like his mother and father were ever on his side; they were too busy joining his classmates and teachers. The hours spent at home were really no different from those spent at school:
“What are you doing, you useless piece of shit? Stop whining already!” “You make me sick. Can’t you do anything right for once?” “Boys don’t cry!” “Stop it or I’ll really give you something to cry about!” Not that it was any better in high school. Riley knew better than to reach out for affection or even help. His encounter with the principal in ninth grade was one of the few episodes that taught him better. Hoping his parents would intervene, thinking they would protect the very creature they gave birth to? Couldn’t have been a dumber thing to assume.
Time after time he waited, hoped, pleaded with them to step in, to protect him, to keep the fists from landing and the words from burning, but came out empty-handed every time. But things were about to be different. Things hadn’t gotten any easier – as a matter of fact, they had only gotten much harder. But all of that was about to change. There would be no more waiting. No more reaching out, only to grab a hold of darkness.
It took a couple of weeks to unfold, their feelings for each other, their longing and being content with knowing only each other, but now that they were entangled in each other, Riley couldn’t imagine living a life without such rushes of adrenaline. Smiling, running water over his face while the sun kissed the earth within their room, he found his mind returning to how it all began. For far too long he felt it was all wrong, sinful, disgusting, destructive, but that morning, everything was different. Exhilarating. Cossack was on his way to Cossack. Just thinking of that name gave him the strength to breathe. To believe in something other than the lifeless, bleak reality crafted for him – by people that barely even cared to remember his name. Sure, it felt wrong a thousand different ways to Sunday. How could it not?
His classmates and teachers made sure to let him know freaks like him were…well, freaks. Unwelcome creatures within the realm of humanity. They put him through enough beatings to never leave behind even a pinch of doubt. And to top it all off, the sick little freak had the utter nerve to fall in love with his stepfather. His stepfather! The very man married to his mother! As if his mother needed any more reasons to hate him. What was wrong with him? Was he really nothing but a psychotic, sickening freak born with far too many missing screws? Cossack didn’t seem to think so. His mother’s new husband made him feel anything but.
Cossack – just the mere thought of the name conjured up warmth. Hope. Adrenaline. Fear, but it was the kind of fear one faced with going bungee jumping for the very first time. There was a thrilling dash of excitement thrust into the panic. And sure, every time they made love was infused with adrenaline (how could Riley not love having Cossack’s warm, chiseled body on top of his?), but even when his boyfriend just looked at him, he came to life. There was that fire, that exhilarating, breathtaking fire, that erupted within him. Cossack’s other half grimaced, his mind taking things in another direction. It wasn’t all fun and games. Riley was a diehard fairy tale fan, but there was much more to the story than cuddles and roses.
Cossack was not only another man – he was a man married to his mother, and the director of a pretty popular corporation. What right did he, a sickening little roach, have to ruin such an incredible man’s life? Cossack assured him that wasn’t how it was at all, in no time at all. It was an instant attraction, a flare that erupted between the two of them, frightening, blinding, invigorating. Just thinking of everything that bound the two of them left Riley breathless.
So. Was it finally happening? Was he finally about to end up in the fairy tale he had spent his entire life waiting for? Cossack was on his way, after all, to yet another one of their hotel rooms – but it was different this time. The sunshine spilling through their windows assured him things would be different this time. There would be no more running, no more hiding, no more waiting. No more. A hand. There it was-a hand, inserting the keycard into its proper slot. Riley’s heartbeat quickened. Baby blue eyes widened. Not a second to lose, not a second – it seemed as though he had gone forever and a day without him. And there he was, just as beautiful as before. Clad in another one of his immaculate suits, and that fragrance.
What was it Cossack loved wearing – lavender? Whatever it was, it suited him like wings on an angel.
“It’s you,” the businessman panted, sweeping the other into his arms, quickly slamming the door behind them. Hands planted firmly on his stepson’s behind, he carried the beaming, blue-eyed nymph to their hotel bed. Riley found himself pinned against it a moment later, staring into the strong, comforting eyes of his soul’s mate.
‘It’s you’. Even though Cossack had ended up at their door, those words were spoken as though they really had been away from each other forever and a day. As though Cossack was afraid of someone else being on the other side of the door. Maybe his mother. Or the press. But none of that mattered. There they were, together, finally able to breathe. Finally. Finally kissed by the morning sun. Riley cupped the other’s face in his hands, smiling, sunshine overflowing.
“Good morning,” he said, his words almost coming out as a song. No more could be spoken, as Cossack was intent on drowning him in kisses. So many kisses. All of them deep, penetrating, breathtaking.
“Good morning,” came the lavender-kissed words, deep, warm, sensual. They hardened against each other, while the sun remained gentle, warm, comforting. They held each other, tasted each other, drowned in each other. More lavender-scented words melted into Riley’s ears:
“It’s happening. It’s finally happening.” It took a moment for him to register what the Director of Silvos Presses meant – for a second, Riley thought Cossack was referring to a certain event that happened rather quickly whenever they began to make love.
Being so touch-starved, and starved for affection, made Riley prone to premature…well, could one call it premature, if their boyfriend liked it? Back to the matter at hand.
“It’s happening. I told them. My family, your mother-I told them all.” “And of course you didn’t let me go with you,” the slender, blue-eyed elf tucked inside of Cossack’s arms frowned, melting into him, arms wrapped around the director’s neck. Cossack grunted a sure sign of uneasiness.
“Of course I didn’t! Why would I, after everything you’ve been through? I love you, Riley. I’m not about to force you into any danger. I’m definitely keeping you away from your mother.” Cossack smothered the other’s forehead in kisses, each one strong, soft, sweet.
“You know what? Why don’t I just throw away the key and keep you here forever? I’m sure no one would mind,” he purred, hands tracing the contours of the younger man’s body. His eyes turned sweet, mischievous, tantalizing.
“Now why don’t you be a good boy and do as Daddy says.” Riley opened his mouth to speak, a part of him finding the whole ‘Daddy’ thing sexy, the other part of him wanting Cossack to throw the whole facade away, as it was attached to the lives neither of them wanted. But his boyfriend, his lavender scented boyfriend, pressed him into another kiss. Moaning, the lithe young man within the Silvos’ arms fell into the other’s caresses, strokes, kisses, unspoken commands.
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