Chapter 13 #2
“Feeling better?” Toby released him and stroked a hand through his hair.
“Yes. I’m sorry, Professor.” He guessed this was part of being soul-tired.
“I don’t want an apology, boy.” Toby gave him a pat and sent him back to his own chair. “You have needs as a sub, and I have needs as a Dom. Have you ever considered what those might be?”
He nodded, settling down—a little gingerly, of course—and grabbing his fork. “I’ve wondered about it a lot.” He wasn’t sure he had the foggiest idea, but he liked to guess. Of course, it sounded like the Professor might tell him. “I’d love a list, though, if you have one.”
“I don’t know about a list. It’s not quite that simple, but I do want you to understand that this relationship works both ways.
It’s more for me than a lovely handprint on your ass and a tingle in my palm.
It’s more than sex, even. That hug, for example.
You needed a hug, and I needed…to be needed.
Sounds simplistic, I guess. I derive a lot of pleasure from making sure you feel well taken care of. ”
He tilted his head, frowning deeply. How did that work? Wasn’t that what Ry did with Charlie?
Did that mean he was a user?
Did that mean he’d been using Ry? Did people think he was using his brother, because he wasn’t. He’d held his part of things. He answered texts and phone calls about everything.
Fuck him.
Just stop thinking, you asshole!
“Thank you.” That was the most decent thing to do while he figured his shit out.
“That was a lot of thought for a thank you, boy. I don’t think what I told you hit quite as I’d expected.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. “I mean it, though. The hug felt just right.”
“Good. I’m glad.” He didn’t feel like he was totally off the hook, but Toby didn’t push him on it either. “Finish your bagel.”
“Right.” He finished his eggs first, just because. “They’re good.”
“I do pay attention, you know.” Toby gave him a sidelong look. “I’m assuming you can’t really kneel yet and that you were just taunting me about Whiskey.”
“I can. It’s not graceful, and I need to put a pillow under the ankle. But totally not graceful.”
“Hm. For how long? Graceful isn’t important.”
“How long can I stay down, or how long did it take me to get up?” They had felt about the same, honestly. Getting up had been a little like turning over a turtle.
Toby chuckled. “I can help you get up. How long can you stay on your knees? There is a reason I need to know.”
“I’m not sure. I know I’m good for fifteen minutes, for sure. Then we’d have to start paying attention.”
“Hm. I’ll have to think about that. I’d need you good for half an hour or so. Maybe there’s another way.” Toby stood and put his plate in the dishwasher.
“I can try. I don’t know if I can’t. I just don’t know if I can, you know?” He shrugged. It wasn’t even his leg; it was the boot. It wasn’t meant to support weight in that direction.
“You’re being awfully cooperative for someone who claims to be difficult and to not care for the traditional trappings of submissive-hood.” Toby shot him a sly grin.
He fluttered his eyelashes, being as dramatic as he could. “Would you like me to throw a hissy fit? I could, but it takes a lot of energy.”
“Ha. No, but the little flirty eyelash thing is adorable.” Toby shrugged. “Fine. We’ll try you out and see how you do. I have some papers to grade before the night is over.”
“Ew. Grading.”
Toby shook his head. “It will be much more enjoyable tonight. I’d like you to get very comfortable—briefs or shorts and a light T-shirt.
Bring whatever you need to kneel—there’s a cushion for your knees in the living room if you like, get a pillow as you suggested.
I’ll be in the dining room when you’re ready. ”
“No problem at all, Professor.” He finished his bagel, finally, and put his plate and glass away.
He had his favorite soft shorts and his oldest, favorite T-shirt that said, “Kiss Me, I’m Galician”, so he stripped down, and snuggled into his clothes.
Oh, his phone.
He stuck his head out of the bedroom door, fighting his grin. “Are you a bring my phone or leave it type of Dom, Professor?”
“For this, no phone. Be sure to silence it, please,” Toby called from the dining room.
He turned it off altogether, removing temptation. He did wonder what “for this” meant, though. Roper headed into the front room, his pillow in hand.
Toby was seated at the dining room table with an open laptop, a few neatly lined-up pens, and a small stack of paper.
“Do you actually speak Galician?” Toby stood as he came in and moved two of the chairs away from the table.
“No. I speak Spanish, French, and enough Brazilian Portuguese to get by, but that’s where my dad’s folks came from.”
“It’s a beautiful area. You can kneel under the table, right in front of me, please.” Toby opened his belt and slid out of his pants, then folded them neatly. “I want your mouth, but not to get me off.”
Oh, nice. He did love an inventive man. “What happens if I accidentally make you come?” Who knew? He might want to try.
Toby leveled him with a stern look. “If I come, it won’t be an accident, boy.”
His lips twisted as he fought his smile and lost. Toby hadn’t had his mouth yet. He loved making a man feel good. “I hear you, Professor. Lord knows, I’d never push it.” He squeezed his pillow. “I’m going to have to ask for help getting settled, please.”
“Of course.” Toby took the pillow from him. “Don’t hit your head under there.”
“No. One addled twin on earth is enough.” He held Toby’s hand and managed to slide down, hanging on long enough to pad his foot so it didn’t put bad stress on it.
Toby helped him with the pillow, checked his positioning, and fussed over him just enough to make him feel looked after, but not so much that he felt like a dipshit.
“So, safe words aren’t possible with my dick in your mouth, so you can knock—on the floor, the table, anything you like. That will alert me.”
“Yes, Sir.” He shot the Professor a look because he wanted this to be good for both of them.
Toby had been more than good to him. “So, I don’t know you, but I sort of know you a lot.
Is this a…” He didn’t know how to put it into words exactly without sounding stupid—but he wanted to know if this was supposed to be hot and pushy or if this was…
No.
They’d never even kissed. This wasn’t about something…emotional.
He was going for driving Toby wild.
“This is a scene. Our first. And it holds a great reward for you if it is—what we both need.”
Toby’s words were clearly chosen with thought.
He met Toby’s eyes. “I know you might not believe it, but I want that too.”
He might even need it.
“Oh, I do, actually. I believe you. I think I’m starting to understand you, Roper.” Toby pulled out his chair and sat, then fished his half-hard cock out of his briefs.
He doubted it, but it didn’t matter.
This was what he wanted.
He found a comfortable position against Toby’s legs, pushing and adjusting the Professor so that he could reach.
It was something, because he was a short man.
“That’s it.” Toby’s legs spread wider, then he heard the click of the laptop keyboard as Toby got to work.
Roper didn’t stress it. He took a long moment letting himself learn the Professor’s smell, feel the heat.
Then he covered the sweet prick—because the scent of Toby was addictive and soothed an itch in the base of his brain that he didn’t know he had—finding a spot to rest his cheek so he could be easy, focus and relax.
“Oh. Good boy.” Toby sighed and reached down, carding fingers through his hair before going back to work.
He didn’t tease or try to be a bitch. There would be time for that later. If the Professor was going to let him rest, he was going to take his shot.
He hummed as he held the heavy cock between his lips, keeping everything steady and stable.
Toby worked, and the only real way Roper knew how much time was passing was the change of the light in the apartment. Every so often Toby would brush his cheek or comb through his hair with gentle fingers.
He sucked enough to steal a taste of Toby, to earn a soft moan, more out of curiosity than anything.
“Impatient boy.” Toby rapped him on the nose with one finger like a bad puppy.
He rolled his eyes at himself, even as he vibrated his throat, making sure that the tip of Toby’s cock felt every inch.
“No, kitten.” Toby’s fingers tightened in his hair. “Patience if you want your reward.”
Oh, now. That was cheating. He was being super nice.
Vastly.
Totally.
Other words that meant superlative, like, uh, superlative.
Besides, he was being patient. The Professor wasn’t, sort of.
“You have a lovely mouth, and I know you want to show me everything it can do, but not yet.”
He bobbed his head, letting the Professor know he heard and got it.
Toby chuckled and gave his shoulder a pat, then he heard the laptop click closed, and Toby pushed the table away to smile down at him. “It’s my turn, boy. Your reward is that you get to choose. Finish what you’ve started right now, or I take you to bed and fuck you.”
His eyes went wide as saucers. Oh, that wasn’t fair—he wanted both.
He rubbed his chin against Toby’s sac.
“Tough decision? Is it too difficult? Does my boy want it all?” Toby sounded so amused.
“Yes, yes, and yes.” He popped the tip of Toby’s cock with his tongue. “But I think my leg needs to move pretty soon, one way or the other.”
He wasn’t hurting yet, but the muscles were working hard.
Toby tucked himself back into his briefs and squatted next to him to help. “Let’s get you off your knees.”
“Please. I’m still in good shape, but it’s time.” He forced himself not to tense, because that wasn’t going to help.
Toby stood behind him and basically lifted him onto his feet—well, foot—staying right there to steady him as he got his balance.
He stretched, trusting in the Professor’s hands to steady him. He sounded like a marimba, all the bones in his body seeming to pop and snap.
Oh, that felt good.