Chapter 25 #3
Something soft and warm is wrapped around him, and he’s being pulled into Ash’s arms.
It takes time for his heart rate to settle, for feeling to return to his body and his sobs to subside. Ash holds him through it, praises him, as if he hadn’t just nearly spanked Kieran’s soul out of him.
“I’m sorry for hurting you,” Kieran slurs, leaning his heavy head on Ash’s chest. God, he’s so tired.
Ash kisses the top of his head, strokes his hair. “Thank you. It’s alright now.”
It’s alright now. Just like that. No guilt-tripping, no underhanded jabs, no threats of leaving.
Kieran hurt him. Ash made him apologize, made him fix it in his own way. It’s forgiven.
Fuck. Why can’t everything in life be so straightforward, so final?
Ash’s warmth almost lulls him to sleep, but then Ash starts shifting, moving Kieran around like he’s about to stand. Suddenly wide awake, Kieran’s fingers catch in his shirt on instinct.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Ash soothes. “I’ll be right back, just getting something from the fridge. You’ll be able to see me.” With that promise, he presses another kiss to Kieran’s forehead.
Reluctantly, Kieran uncurls his fingers, watching like a hawk as Ash trails towards the kitchen and opens the fridge. Even when watching his every move, he doesn’t fully relax until Ash’s back.
“On your stomach, baby.”
“Not a baby.”
“You’re my baby. And I need to take care of you.” He signals for Kieran to turn over, an eyebrow raised expectantly.
Pouting, Kieran does. The haze has started to clear, which means his embarrassment has come back, full force. He’s still naked from the waist down.
“This is fucked up,” he complains as Ash applies the gel to his abused butt. “You hurt me, then try to make it better.”
Is this really how they normally are? Is this their dynamic?
How can Kieran like this? It’s so wrong. What kind of person gets a kick from being hurt—no, punished like a fucking child. What kind of freak is he?
Reality starts to sink in, brutal and unforgiving. His emotions are all over the place, he can’t even tell which one is currently wreaking havoc. Is it anger? Shame? Fear? Whatever it is, it makes him feel like he’s about to die. His breath comes rapidly, yet it’s like he’s suffocating.
The white noise is back, louder, almost painful, but just like before, Ash’s voice brings him back.
“Kieran, look at me. Look at me, firecracker.”
He does, Ash’s gaze pinning him in place like an anchor in the middle of a raging sea.
“It’s okay. You are safe.”
“Something’s wrong. Ash, I don’t like this.” He hates how scared he sounds, like an actual child lost in the woods.
Ash cradles his face in his palms, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones.
“Breathe, baby. You were just flying high and now you’re coming back to Earth fast. I’ll get you there safely, don’t worry. Leave it to me.”
Ash gathers him up bridal style and carries him to their bedroom. The air there is saturated with his scent, and it works like magic on Kieran’s nervous system. His breath begins to even out while his eyelids grow heavy.
Tequila must be around, because Ash says something to her while tucking Kieran under the blankets. He vaguely registers Ash disappearing briefly, but then he’s back, pressing something to Kieran’s lips. It’s sweet and fruity, a taste he can’t quite place, but he gulps it down.
“Slowly,” Ash instructs, stroking his hair before placing a kiss there. “Good boy. You did amazing, Kieran.”
Kieran smiles to himself, feeling his heart rate settle and his body grow heavy.
When he opens his eyes what he would swear is two seconds later, the room is darker, the sun having moved closer to the horizon. And he’s using Ash’s chest as a pillow which, by the way, has no right being so comfortable.
Feeling an unfamiliar weight around his lower body, he looks down and nearly swallows his tongue. Tequila is perched on his hip, curled into a deceptively innocent ball of orange fluff, snoring happily.
“Ash?”
Ash’s eyes snap open instantly. He must’ve been awake already.
“There you are.” He grins toothily, running his fingertips over Kieran’s arm.
“What happened?” He can’t believe how quickly he was out.
“It’s called a drop. It has to do with endorphins in your body. All’s good now, you just needed a little TLC. And sugar.” With that, he reaches towards the nightstand, uncapping a paper bottle of…something. “Maybe you should have a little more, just in case.”
Kieran scrunches up his nose, but obediently takes a sip, recognizing the taste he couldn’t place before. The bottle says it’s lychee coconut water. Wow. Healthy shit has no business tasting this good.
“Does that always happen?” he asks once the bottle is empty. He’s read about the drop, but didn’t understand it much.
“It depends on the intensity of the scene. And your emotional state. It’s to be expected since it was your first time and you were upset.”
“Thank god, because that sucked. What’s this, by the way?” He nods towards Tequila, who’s now up and licking her paw.
Ash smiles like a parent who’s happy his two children are getting along for once. “Contrary to what you might believe, she doesn’t actually hate you. She’s a softie and recognized your distress.”
“Hmm.” Dubious, but fine.
Tequila stands up and arches her back, then does a slow walk across Kieran’s chest until she’s in his face. She watches him judgmentally for a while, then bumps her forehead against his chin.
“Whoa, did you see that?” Kieran beams. Maybe she really doesn’t hate him. “You were just playing hard to get, huh?” He goes to stroke her back and promptly gets slapped in the face. “Ow! You bitch!” By the time he tries to get back at her, she has jumped off and run away.
Under him, Ash is unsuccessfully trying to suppress a laugh.
“She attacked me!”
“You tried to touch her.”
“So? She touched me first!”
“I don’t make the rules.”
“And the little shit does?”
Ash just shrugs, still wearing that stupid smile. Kieran turns his back to him and sulks.
“Go away,” he orders when Ash hugs him from behind.
Ash nuzzles his neck, the beard tickling the sensitive skin there. “You didn’t use your safeword.”
Kieran goes still, face heating up again at the memory. He can’t believe he bent over and offered his ass just because Ash told him to. He fucking cried, for god’s sake. Worst of all, he remembers getting hard for a hot second before the pain pushed everything else aside.
There’s only one explanation for why he’d allow all that.
“I trusted you.” By the looks of it, the trust is growing deeper each day. It’s fucking terrifying.
Ash’s forehead drops to his shoulder, and he lets out a loud groan. “Fuck.”
Kieran doesn’t have to ask what’s wrong. He can feel it poking his lower back.
He turns around to glare at him. “Seriously?! That’s what turns your crank?”
“You turn my crank.”
The worst part? Kieran can’t even accuse him of exaggerating. Ash has popped a boner over the most random things and words Kieran’s said and done.
It should be alarming and, admittedly, at least a little gross. It definitely shouldn’t make Kieran feel all squirmy and fluttery.
There’s still one issue, though, that won’t stop niggling at the back of his mind.
Ash taps Kieran’s mouth with his thumb, then drags it down and pinches his lower lip gently.
“What got you so pouty?”
His eyes aren’t changing color, which means he’s not trying to get inside Kieran’s head. The annoying part is Kieran would actually prefer not to have to say it out loud.
“You haven’t kissed me.” It’s not like Kieran’s been waiting for a kiss, but the absence of it is a little worrying, okay?
Ash is all too eager to engage in any kind of pervy shit, but the regular vanilla things don’t seem to interest him.
“You talk a big game about how I get you all hot and bothered, and you don’t hold back from turning my ass into a tomato, but laying one on me is clearly a huge problem for y—hmpf! ”
One blink, one push, and he’s on his back, Ash’s weight pinning him down. He attacks Kieran’s mouth—attacks because this is not a kiss, it’s a full-on hostile takeover, as if Kieran’s not a person but a prize to claim.
‘Be careful what you wish for’ rings smugly in his ears as he experiences what it’s like being devoured alive. Both his mind and body go still, trapped between shock and need. Then his hands move, finding Ash’s shoulders, ready to push, to resist.
Instead, they clutch. Because each drag of Ash’s lips against his, every stroke of his tongue, feels like it’s dismantling the defenses Kieran’s worked so hard to put back up.
Ash’s hand clamps along his jaw, tilting his head just so, keeping him open and helpless, the exact way he wants him. His other hand fists in the sheets by Kieran’s ribs, caging him in. His lips are unforgiving and greedy, like he’s been holding himself back and just decided he’s done pretending.
Kieran makes a noise, unguarded and desperate, and Ash answers with a groan that vibrates into his mouth. The kiss deepens, but not just in hunger—there’s a tenderness underneath, something steadying that burns hotter than the fire. It’s not just being taken, but also being held.
It’s being wanted, utterly and without reservations.
From the need and fire, a wonderful, scary realization rises like smoke. This man has the power to completely ruin me.
Another, an even scarier one, follows: and I would let him.
When Ash finally eases back, their mouths still brush. His lips are trembling, forehead dipping to rest against Kieran’s.
“Just so we’re clear…” he starts, voice like gravel. “I can stop myself any time when it comes to whopping your lovely backside. But these?” He pulls back just enough to stroke his thumb over Kieran’s sensitive lips. “I can hardly ever pull away from these once I start.”
Since Ash displayed way more self-control when he was dry-humping him, Kieran can’t doubt him even if he wanted.
“Oh.”
“Oh,” Ash echoes, smiling like the little shit he is.
“Question: how do I safeword out if I can’t speak?” Or breathe.
Ash’s smile goes positively sinister, like a lion preparing to pounce on a helpless gazelle. “I guess you’re in deep shit.”
Eyes wide, Kieran fists his shirt. “Wait—”
“You brought this upon yourself.”
When Ash takes his mouth like a land he just conquered, Kieran’s no more prepared than he was the first time around. In fact, he’s starting to get a feeling he’ll never be prepared for the force that’s Ash Cleaver.
But for once, he’s strangely okay with it.