Chapter Twelve #2
“Really? Fuck, really? Oh, god…” His face crumpled and he started to cry.
I resisted the urge to go over there, because him crying was a good thing, even though what it meant might be not so good.
He nodded and tried to rally, swiping at his face with his free hand as he sat on the bed.
“Sorry, I…that’s so amazing. I can hardly believe it. ”
He flashed me a smile and a thumbs up.
“Yeah, I met this guy, actually. Yeah…oh, he’s so hot.
You have no idea. And you wouldn’t believe where I am right now…
Nope…I’ll tell you when I see you in person…
I’m here for another month… I know…but I needed to get away.
” Puck laughed again, and it was such a wonderful sound.
“I’ll call you again in a few days, okay?
I’m so glad to hear things are going well, man.
Stay strong, okay? I love you… I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner… Okay…bye.”
Puck ended his call and blinked back more emotion, his breaths shaky. “I could really use a hug right now, Oliver.”
I jumped up from my spot on the bed and wrapped him in my arms.
Puck snugged his forehead into the crook of my neck, holding onto me. He spoke then, his voice muffled against my shirt.
“He’s got feeling in his legs now. He’s going to be able to walk. It’s going to take time and lots of rehab, but he’s going to be okay.”
I hugged Puck tighter and pressed my lips to his cheek. “I’m so glad you called him.”
“Yeah, me too. He basically told me I was a dick and a chicken. But you know what? It felt good to hear him cuss me out. Like you said, he sounded like his old self, y’know?”
“Sure.”
Puck pulled away and seemed to collect himself.
“Is it okay if I use your room to call him again in a few days? I guess I could just call him from downstairs, since everything seems okay, but—”
“Of course, you can. Any time.”
Puck shoved his hands in his pockets and gazed at me with gratitude. “Thanks, Oliver.”
“Do you want to sleep here tonight?”
“Uh, am I allowed to?”
“Oh, so now you’re all about the rules?”
“I really don’t want to get kicked off this ranch, Oliver.”
I held his hands and played with his fingers. “I’ll ask Adam. If he says no, then maybe I can sneak into the bunkhouse or something.”
“You’re dedicated.”
“Yes. I am.”
Adam gave the okay, and Puck came back to my room that night after supper.
We didn’t even do anything other than snuggle and talk about everything under the sun, until we fell asleep. In the morning, Puck woke me to say he was heading to the grooming barn.
*
THE NEXT TIME Puck came up to my room, we did more than just chat.
“Hmm,” he said. “I suppose I should thank you somehow.”
I laughed. “For what?”
He shrugged. “For helping to dig my head out of my ass.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
We gazed at each other. Then Puck took his hands from his pockets and moved toward me, fingers going to my shirt. He untucked it from my pants.
“Maybe I want to thank you…”
I rested my hands on his narrow hips. “Well, if you really want to thank me.”
Puck grinned from ear-to-ear. “I really want to thank you.” He glanced at the door. “Did you lock it?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Do you think Adam will care that I’m up here…thanking you?”
I took Puck’s chin in my hand and planted an eager kiss on his lips. “I think Adam will probably mind his own business. If we’re circumspect.”
“What the fuck does that mean, Oliver?”
I laughed. “It means if you can keep from screaming my name when I make you come.”
Puck winked. “No promises.”
He did fairly well, but I ended up stuffing a pair of clean underwear into his mouth to keep him quiet, which he seemed to enjoy.
This was after he’d given me a soul-destroying blow job and I’d had to bite my own tongue to keep quiet.
Now I was licking him all over his balls and ass and driving him completely crazy, especially because he couldn’t give way to unhindered vocalizations.
His muffled groans made me hard all over again.
He was completely malleable today, after the good news he’d had the day before, with regards to his friend.
He was open and vulnerable and able to relax for the first time in what was probably ages.
And I took advantage of that, breaking him apart until he panted my name against the wad of fabric in his mouth.
“Okay, fine. Do you want to come?”
“Uh, uh!” he groaned, voice harsh and desperate, words strangled by the impromptu gag.
“Stick out your ass for me, ponyboy.” I said, shoving his knees forward so his rear went up, and I had plenty of access to his cock.
“Gug,” he mumbled indistinctly, spreading his legs and grasping the bedcover in his fists.
“Good boy. Such a good boy. Such a delicious pony.”
I lapped at his hole again, then lubed up my fingers and got to work, pumping him and stretching him. I wasn’t going to fuck him, but I wanted to get him off like fireworks on Canada Day.
I felt cocky and in control. I liked it.
“Say, ‘I’m such a good boy, Oliver.’”
“Ung-gugged,” Puck moaned.
“Try to say it.”
“Ugh?”
“Because I love to hear you struggle.”
“U-a-hug-gah.”
I interpreted that as You’re a sick man, which was accurate. I laughed.
“Yep. Now say it.” I had two fingers in Puck’s ass and I’d located the spot I wanted to tease and stroke until he shouted my name and came all over my bedsheets.
“Ang-hug-uh”—he cried out as my hand circled his cock—“gug-guh!”
“Oliver,” I prompted, pumping his cock with one hand and fucking him gently with my fingers.
“UH-UH-UHGUGA!” he shouted through the gag, spurting hard and shaking under my hand.
I truly hoped none of the trainers were on the floor at this time. They should have been either getting some lunch or preparing for their afternoon sessions.
Puck rode the pleasure of his orgasm and collapsed to the bedding, right into his own wet spot.
He grunted with exhaustion. I took the gag out and kissed him.
“You bastard,” he murmured.
I kissed him again. “Sweet baby.”
He sighed and closed his eyes, a smile on his sweaty face.
*
WE DIDN’T MEET the next day because I had work to do.
Real work, involving polishing the images I’d chosen and putting a slideshow together for the weekend.
I had let him know I’d be busy all day, and he’d said he didn’t mind, and he had a good book to read in the bunkhouse.
And that maybe he should show a bit more interest in the other ponyboys.
I’d raised my eyes, and he’d stressed that it would be a purely platonic interest, as his ass only had the strength for one sexual attachment at a time, apparently.
The following morning, I wandered over to the arena when I knew Kamal would be training my beautiful boy. Or attempting to train him. I brought my handheld, since I already had enough from the tripod to keep my busy.
The day was stunning—bright and hot—but the hanging humidity had dissipated. Still, sweat beaded on the back of my neck as I approached the second paddock.
Puck was in his basic ponyboy gear, but his arms had been left unbuckled. Probably because there were a couple of low oxers in the paddock this afternoon, and Kamal was having Puck jump over them—a task that would prove extra hard with one’s arms pinioned.
Kamal saw me before Puck did. He waved me over and came to meet me at the fence. It was difficult to drag my gaze away from the sweaty young man in leather harness and dirty boots, muscles moving beneath soft skin, as he maneuvered over the small jumps.
“Oliver.”
“Kamal.”
Kamal folded his arms on the top rail of the fence and assessed me silently for a moment.
“What?”
“Hmm. I don’t know what you did, but our ornery little mess of a ponyboy is performing exquisitely today. He’s done everything I’ve asked, without issue.”
“What I did? I don’t know what you’re—”
“Although I sincerely doubt a good fucking is what brought on this behaviour.” Kamal checked me out in a slow sexual way and smirked. “Although, you never know.”
“Oh, please. I’m good, but I’m not that good.” I laughed.
Kamal grinned lazily.
We watched Puck, who continued his task, although he had noticed me. He almost lifted a hand to wave but thought better of it and kept his gaze forward, concentrating on what he was doing.
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Anyway, I didn’t do anything.”
Puck had been the one to initiate his phone call. And I wouldn’t be surprised if his agreeable behaviour was due to the weight of his guilt and the precariousness of Elijah’s predicament being lifted.
Kamal nodded. “Adam said Puck made a phone call from your room.”
“He needed some privacy.”
“A personal call?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t giving Kamal any other info. He’d have to ask Puck if he wanted details.
“Uh-huh. So, do you think that had anything to do with his change of manner?”
“Probably.”
“Well. That’s good. I won’t ask you any more questions.”
“Thanks.”
“Okay, Puck,” Kamal called out. “You can come over here and take a break.”
Puck had just gone over one of the low jumps. He jogged over to us, breathing heavily and rosy with exertion. And…smiling?
Kamal ruffled Puck’s dark hair. “I’m glad you’re feeling more congenial.”
“Yeah. Might not last.”
“I don’t want you to lose that fighting edge completely. I’d like an excuse to punish you once in a while.”
“Fuck, I knew it. You’re hoping for mistakes, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.” Kamal grinned. “You’re a most beautiful mistake if I ever saw one.”
“Don’t try to butter me up, now,” Puck said, coughing and blushing. He scuffed his boot in the dirt. “You’re a cruel, cruel master, Kamal.”
“Mmm. And you love every minute of it.”
Puck glared at Kamal, a bit of his former attitude resurfacing. “What now, sir? Or am I done?”
Kamal gazed back and forth between the two of us, then threw his hands in the air. “Take him to the grooming barn, Oliver. He’s done well today and deserves some time off. Maybe you can go for a swim or something.”