Chapter 5
Nico
I shouldn’t be this nervous.
I’m a man of twenty-seven, with my own business and several notches on my bedpost, but somehow this young man, whose life I’m holding in my hands makes me jittery as if I’m about to embark on my first-ever date.
There’s something about him. Something special, and it’s not just his pretty face and hot body. And while I do feel responsible for his life now, that’s not it either. I suppose after listening to every single episode of his podcast, being an active fan for three years now, pre-ordering his merch twice, and jerking off to his hot voice while imagining what he might look like spread out naked on the same desk he records at, I am a bit starstruck.
I don’t want to give him that impression though and make things weird. He’s stayed anonymous for a reason, and I don’t want to cause him discomfort by using the knowledge I’ve already gained from the podcast. I prepare a nice hot dinner for us. Turkey, mashed potatoes, veggies, an indulgent gravy, and red wine to go with it, plus hot chocolate, in case he doesn’t like alcohol. I put on a dark green shirt this time, and after half an hour of testing the look, I settle on two buttons open, showcasing my snowflake tattoos. I get a new one for every kill, and I kind of want him to ask about the ink. I put on a nice watch and use my favorite cologne with notes of pine, cedar, and pomegranate. A gift from Owen, who claimed it’s gonna get me laid. Let’s hope he’s right.
And yeah, I discreetly pack some lube and condoms in case I do get lucky. I will be the perfect gentleman, but Blake has been through lots of stress in the past twenty-four hours, and adrenaline makes people horny. It’s science.
I glance at the reindeer-shaped clock on my wall. The turkey’s just come out of the oven, so it will be fine resting under aluminum foil, which should give me more than enough time to get my date ready. I grab the clothes I prepared for Blake earlier, my best, softest towel, and walk downstairs, all the way to the basement that serves as the main stockroom. There are three rooms down here, all overflowing with Christmas decorations and gadgets, and at the very end of the one that at first glance appears to be of least interest, as it contains many of my personal belongings, is the narrow staircase leading to the lowest level of the property, which is cleverly hidden inside an old wardrobe.
My stomach tightens as I prepare myself to see Blake again after a whole day of longing and questioning whether Owen’s idea can pan out in my favor. I reach between the coats inside the wardrobe and pull on the lever disguised as an empty clothing hook. The mechanism installed by my grandfather many years ago is still functional due to regular maintenance, and it clicks as the back of the wardrobe opens like a door and reveals steep stairs.
Last night, after I hit the wall in my quest to find out who might have hired Blake’s abductor, I came down again, but Blake was already sleeping. I took some time with impromptu decorating, so he could wake up to a more cheerful space. I even brought down a pink Christmas tree and hung some lights in the room containing the cell.
Blake slept right through it all, and it made me feel like a Christmas elf, just working through the night to provide a surprise. Every now and then I’d glance at Blake’s serene features. He was adorable. I wish I’d been there to see his reaction when he woke up to all the magic around him.
I could have set up a camera to capture it, of course, but it would be impolite to violate his privacy like that.
“Good evening,” I call out on my way downstairs. The rooms here are very old, and my grandpa theorized the original owners of the house must have used them to store illegal cargo, maybe even booze during the prohibition era. The walls are whitewashed with something that looks like lime rather than modern paint, but I never cared whether it was aesthetically pleasing before.
It’s quite exciting to share this family secret with Blake.
I hear no answer, so I speed up, walking past the secret craft room where I create festive mementos of my kills. There’s two more chambers down here, but I head straight for Blake’s and knock on the open door as I stare at the Christmas tree I left for him last night.
My worries ease when I hear him shift. “Hello?”
“Hey there, Cookie Monster,” I say with a smile when I notice he went through all ten cookies I left him. My heart beats faster as soon as our eyes meet. “Oh look at this! You’ve been busy.” I point out the long paper chain wrapped around a few of the bars like a snake. “I can’t wait to hang it.”
He offers me a smile and gestures at the tree. “Thank you for the decorations. They’re very nice. They make this place feel… less lonely. Were you at work?”
“Yes, I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you company. But I made us dinner, and I have more time for you tonight.”
Blake stands between the cot and the bars, tightly wrapped in the blanket. His hair is messy, as if he spent all day resting, but the number of links in the paper chain and the scraps creating a pile in the corner of the cell tell me he’s been busy. The book I left for him, an illustrated edition of Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol is resting by the pillow, indicating Blake spent some of his day reading.
“What are we having? More cookies and milk?” my guest asks, licking his lips as his elegant fingers curl around the bars. I lean forward and, in a moment of daring, slide my own over his. He has such soft, beautiful hands!
“No, a whole feast. Turkey, potatoes, veggies, homemade gravy. Do you like wine? I got some red.” I’m aware that he might intend to hurt me. We’re not out of the woods yet, but I’m hoping we can come to an understanding once I convince him that my basement is the safest place for him to be.
He swallows, watching our interlocked hands. “Thank you. That sounds amazing! But I think I might need to freshen up before dinner. You know, shower, use a normal bathroom,” he says, nodding toward the camping toilet I provided for him .
“Yes, of course.” I reluctantly let go of him. Kissing every one of his knuckles has to wait until he’s ready for it. “I don’t usually keep anyone here. That’s why I’m so unprepared. But I brought you some clothes that will hopefully be your size, some toiletries, and I can take you to the shower. You do have to promise to be nice though. Naughty boys don’t get gifts.” I wink at him.
Half a second passes before he lets out a chuckle. “I promise I’m nice. Most of the time,” he adds and winks right back at me.
“Oh, I recall the story of you hiding your brother’s favorite fountain pen and then launching a search, as if you had no idea where it was,” I say, remembering that story from one of his old podcasts.
I watch him as I open the padlock to his cell, but I also doubt he’d attack me with the kid scissors. Those, of course, could do some damage if wielded with enough force, but we can consider this a test.
I step back to make room for him, and I already know he will look cute as a button in the festive pajamas I’ve gotten him. He watches me like a cat entering a new home and appears overall serious, so maybe I should have gone with a more elegant set. On the other hand, he did wear the elf costume when Tooley abducted him, so he must have a sense of fun.
Blake removes the blanket from his shoulders, folds it, and then throws it onto the cot, which leaves him in the sexy costume, exposing his long legs and chest. He’s wary but keeps his head low and his hands to himself, which is a good sign. At this rate, our date might actually work out as planned!
He clears his throat and pulls on the folds of the thin shirt, struggling to cover one of his nipples. “Sorry, I think this size is a bit too small for me,” he says and adjusts his hair with a swipe of fingers.
“Don’t worry about it,” I assure him, but steal a glance at his dark pink nipple anyway.
Fuck. I could eat him up. His parted lips are so inviting, his long legs in stockings tease my dick, and the green shorts are indeed too small, so they dig into his crack the way I want my fingers to.
I distract myself by handing him the towel, and he hugs it.
“I’ve got a sweater for you that will definitely not be too small.” I smile and show off my own creation with nerves eating me up. The oversized knitted top is red, and adorned with all the Christmas goodness one could want. Gift boxes with ribbons, reindeer, turkey, funny Santa faces and candy canes, all surrounding the words Oh what fun! I made it with thick wool, and then sewed on some of the other elements I’d crocheted.
Maybe I did have a bit too much time on my hands last Christmas.
Blake smiles and takes the garment from my hands. “Wow! That’s… really something. Very festive. And looks warm. Thank you,” he adds, meeting my gaze. The green hue of his eyes might be cool, but I can sense warmth when they settle on me. “I wish my brother was here to see this.”
I reach out to him, and when he doesn’t shy away, I gently stroke his arm. We leave the sweater behind, and I lead him toward the bathroom.
“Do you usually spend Christmases with him?” I ask, eager to know more about him.
Blake clears his throat. “Um… not really. He likes to visit his friends in Aspen during Christmas time. But it would be nice, right? You could meet him. ”
My heart melts. He’s already envisioning me meeting his family? I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I think the near-death experience must have bonded him to me in ways matching on Grindr never could.
“It would. And there’s still quite some time left until Christmas. Maybe the dust will settle and we’ll be able to plan something special? I’m sorry it’s so basic here,” I say as soon as we walk into the bathroom, which is covered with white tiles from floor to ceiling. It has an open shower and features a toilet behind a wall farther down.
“No, no, I’m very grateful for everything. I don’t even want to think what that other guy wanted to do to me. But you came. You saved me,” Blake says, and as he swallows, I greedily follow the movement of his Adam’s apple, already imagining my dick in his soft mouth.
He toes off his shoes and as he enters the wet room, I can’t help but focus on his pert ass flexing as he moves. He points to the sink. “May I brush my teeth first? I must have had a million cookies.”
“Sure, yes, of course.” I pass him a new toothbrush and toothpaste.
Blake doesn’t waste any more time, but as he leans over the sink, he gives me the most perfect view of his ass. It’s impossible not to look.
“I wish we could have met under better circumstances,” I say, leaning against the door frame as he glances over his shoulder, seeking something .
Once he’s done, Blake turns around to face me. “Me too.”
I swallow as he takes another step back, and then lifts the tight shirt. Stretchy fabric rolls up his perfect skin and leaves his nipples pebbled. He stills with his arms tangled up in the top behind his head and glances straight at me .
“D-do you need help?” I choke out, already stepping forward.
He has the perfect body. Lean but with defined muscles, his shoulders are wide, and the shorts hang low enough on his hips to show off the V-shape I wish to follow south.
His bare chest sinks as he exhales before offering me not one but three nods. He’s nervous, I can see, but it warms my heart to see him reach out.
I step closer, and he spins on his heel again, showing me his naked back. I should focus on the fabric tangled around his arms, but how can I resist the lure of his spine when it directs my gaze into his shorts?
He smells faintly of spice and wood, the mint of the toothpaste and hot chocolate. Maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve been this intimately close to another man, but the hesitant yet sensual way he’s moving draws me in, as if he wants to tell me something without words. When our eyes meet once again, I feel myself leaning in.
The fabric stretched between his forearms presses against my throat, but then he’s touching his minty lips to mine.