22. Isaiah
Isaiah
December, Hewitt Estate
Isaiah woke in an unfamiliar bed surrounded by green, in every sense.
It took him a moment to recall that the green sheets, green bed curtains, and green wallpaper that came together in a surprisingly tasteful manner were all indicative that the arm wrapped around him and the body pressing into his back belonged to none other than Chris Green.
Chris shifted in his sleep, pulling Isaiah closer. A hand traced over his abdomen, and he felt a soft kiss flutter against the back on his neck before he realised the other man was awake.
“Morning,” Chris whispered. His voice was husky and deep and sent electricity shooting through Isaiah.
Isaiah pressed back against him. “Morning.”
“Like waking up with you in my arms,” Chris said, so quiet Isaiah almost missed it.
A sliver of light danced across the room from the small gap between the heavy curtains.
“I like waking up in your arms,” Isaiah replied, surprised by his own honesty.
“Do you have to head back early?” Chris asked.
“Not really.” Isaiah turned to face him, their noses almost touching. “I have a show tonight though, so I can’t leave it too late.”
“I know.” Chris kissed his nose.
“Will you watch?”
Chris sighed. “If I’m back early enough. It’s a long drive.”
“I didn’t realise you drove down.”
Chris nodded. “I did…so, I could give you a lift if you like. At least to the station, but I’d happily drive you all the way to Oxford.”
Isaiah grinned. “You trying to get more time with me, Mr. Green?”
“Is it that obvious?”
Isaiah kissed him quickly. “I like obvious.”65
Chris’s hand traced the looping script of his tattoo and Isaiah sighed into the touch.
“Speaking of things that are obvious…” Chris trailed off. “We’re not, doing anything with that video right?”
“No. Just for us, right?” He paused and quirked a brow. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to watching it with you now.”
Chris rolled to the edge of the bed and grabbed his phone from where it sat innocently on a nightstand. “What time do we need to be down for brunch?”
“Like, eleven, but what are the chances Jackson and Elliot arrive on time?”
The laugh that rolled out of Chris’s lips was deep and velvety, and Isaiah wanted to hear it again, wanted to wrap himself in the sound. He was hurtling full speed towards something too dangerous to name, but he couldn’t stop himself. Wouldn’t.
Chris propped himself up against the intricate headboard, draping his arm over the back and casting an imploring look Isaiah’s way. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
Chris tugged Isaiah towards him, wrapping an arm around him. He could feel the heat of his body against his. Isaiah snuggled closer still.
“We watching?” Chris waved the phone he held in his other hand.
“Yeah,” Isaiah breathed. He pressed a single kiss to Chris’s neck and snaked a hand around his thigh. “Let’s.”
Chris held the phone in front of the two of them. The position was admittedly a bit awkward, but when he pressed play any thoughts of that flew from Isaiah’s head.
He gasped as he watched the Chris on the screen kiss down his chest. Isaiah’s nipples pebbled and he gripped the real Chris’s thigh as the scene continued to show him sitting Isaiah on the bed and swallowing him down.
Fuck.
“This is…” Isaiah swallowed. “This is really…” He choked on his words as he watched, saliva pooling in his mouth.
“It is.” Chris’s words came out husky, his breathing shallow.
Isaiah let the hand he had resting on Chris’s leg wander higher. He traced light fingers up the inside of his thigh. Chris’s hand shook as he tried to hold the phone still.
The scene on the screen showed them kissing again now, the video blurring as they shifted positions. Isaiah groaned, his hole twitching as though he could feel the way Chris had prepped him last night, even now.
He snaked a hand higher, ghosting his hand over Chris’s hard cock.
With a groan, Chris let his head fall back.
The phone fell to the bed. The sounds of their previous night’s activities continued through the speaker, mingling with the quiet pleas falling from Chris’s mouth as Isaiah crawled beneath the covers and let his tongue follow the path his hand had taken moments before.
He paused when he reached Chris’s cock. Precum wept from his slit, and Isaiah took a moment to bury his face in Chris’s heavy balls, breathing him in before licking up the salty liquid.
“Don’t stop watching,” he told Chris from his position under the covers.
No verbal response came, but he felt the movement as Chris picked up the phone again and saw Chris’s cock respond to whatever he was watching now.
It sounded like they were getting to the moment when Chris had slid inside Isaiah, thick and hard.
His own body felt electrified and his mouth watered.
He flattened his tongue, licking a long stripe up Chris’s cock.
It was hot and dark under the duvet, but Isaiah could still hear the video and feel Chris’s responses beneath him.
He breathed in deeply again, the delicious scent that was all Chris filling his senses.
He suckled his cock head, lapping at the slit.
Then, finally, all the skills he’d developed this year on the absurd toys his subscribers sent him came in handy as he swallowed Chris down, deep into his throat.
He held him there, letting his throat relax around him before letting out a soft hum, then pulling back and doing it all over again.
Chris’s hips bucked and Isaiah grinned as he heard his own voice on the video tell him to move. He echoed the sentiment. “Move, baby. Fuck my face.”
The answering groan sent pleasure shooting through Isaiah, and then Chris’s hands were winding through his hair, gently holding him in place as he thrust into Isaiah’s waiting mouth.
Isaiah gasped for breath and did his best to inject some finesse into the blow job as Chris fucked his throat.
He was so hard he ached, but he wanted to stay like this, just like this for hours.
Isaiah started to feel like he was floating in the dark warmth of the duvet.
With the thick cock blocking his air, he lost all sense of time and direction.
It could have been seconds or hours before the first taste of cum hit his tongue, Chris’s orgasm gushing out of him as Isaiah drank it greedily down.
Chris pulled him up and out from under the duvet. The soft light in the room disoriented him even further, but then Chris’s tongue was in his mouth and his hand was on his cock and Isaiah was flying.
After, as they lay wrapped up in each other, Isaiah was startled by the silence that filled the room when their video stopped playing, the phone going quiet somewhere down by the end of the bed.
He laughed, then turned to look at Chris and the two of them fell into a round of giggles in each other’s arms. Everything about this felt absurd, but it also felt right, perilously so. Isaiah went rigid. He couldn’t let himself get used to this.
“Hey,” Chris whispered. “You alright? I wasn’t too rough?”
“No,” Isaiah said quickly. “I liked it. You were perfect.” Too perfect.
He wasn’t sure if the chemistry with Chris was real or just a side effect of him knowing Isaiah’s sexual preferences so well after so much time watching him.
The thought wasn’t so much disturbing as it was perplexing, like a new question to research. 66
“So, the video, ten out of ten. Top tier.” Isaiah rasped.
“Yeah.” Chris’s arm pulled him in tight.
“Send it to me?”
Chris reached around him, searching for his phone on the duvet. “Of course.” He tapped a couple of buttons and Isaiah heard his own phone buzz from wherever it had ended up.
“You know, you could launch a banger channel with a scene like that,” Isaiah mused.
Chris snorted. “Probably bring in more than I’ll be getting from running for a while, but not worth the risk to my lottery funding.”
“Morality clause?”
“Yeah,” Chris sighed. “It’s bollocks really. They’re ready to welcome me back with open arms after my ban, but then you see athletes losing funding for having an OnlyFans account to get by.”
“I mean, they’re probably making more than enough to cover the loss.”
Chris shrugged. “It’s a respect thing though, isn’t it. Pulling funding sends a signal of what is and isn’t acceptable. Sponsors pay attention.”
“Would you want to, though?” Isaiah asked. “I was kind of kidding, but you’d do so well. We could even collab.”
Isaiah felt Chris tense beside him, though he wasn’t sure why.
“No,” Chris finally replied. “I don’t want that.”
Shrugging and letting the subject drop, Isaiah pulled Chris’s hand towards him and kissed his wrist as he checked the time on his phone. “We should get moving. We might end up later for brunch than Jackson if we don’t hustle now, and I really need a shower.”
“Faster to do it together.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Isaiah grinned as he climbed out of the bed and led Chris into the opulent, green-tiled en suite.
Brunch was laid out in a formal dining room on a long oak table. Isaiah and Chris entered together to find they were very much the last to arrive. Elliot clocked their joint entrance and Isaiah shrugged in response to his cousin’s questioning look.
Everyone around the table looked bleary-eyed.
The duke himself was shuffling eggs around his plate with a sort of forlorn expression, and Jackson was half-asleep on Elliot’s shoulder.
Seb and his husband, Nathan, were leaning on each other, gingerly sipping coffee.
Jamie had his head in his hands as Darius cut a piece of bacon and tried to get him to eat it, and Eric Anders was hiding behind a copy of Runner’s Life as he chewed on a piece of toast.
The only person speaking was Stefan, who was giving Jackson’s sister Katie and her wife, Amelie, what seemed to be an intensely detailed breakdown of his training regime as they nodded along politely.
Isaiah took a seat next to Chris. A woman in a crisp uniform appeared behind them almost instantly to take their orders for coffee and breakfast. The two of them glanced at each other, uncomfortable for a moment, but both landed on a full English and a coffee.
Isaiah watched in horror as Chris topped his coffee off with cream and three sugars, cradling his own cup full of rich black liquid as though he could protect it from the travesty it was witnessing.67
Stefan’s voice echoed in the cavernous space. “I’m lucky though, because if that cheater, Allan, is finally caught for the drugs everyone knows he’s using, then I’ll have a clear shot at a medal at World’s…”
Chris’s fork clattered to his plate. Heads swivelled before people quickly dropped their gaze. Stefan tracked the motion and then tried to backtrack, just making everything worse.
“I didn’t mean to…”
Isaiah squeezed Chris’s knee under the table and he seemed to snap out of it.
A strained laugh fell from his lips. “No worries,” he choked out to Stefan.
Then, addressing the rest of the table with an air of forced nonchalance the made Isaiah’s heart tightened, he waved his hand and said “Drugs are bad. Don’t do them, kids” before returning his attention to his meal, as casual as anything.
The attention faded. Chris’s expression was inscrutable, but his knee was bouncing under Isaiah’s firm grip.
Leaning over, Isaiah whispered in his ear, “Want to get out of here?”
“Fuck yes,” Chris breathed. He pushed back from the table and Isaiah gripped his hand.
Elliot caught both the motion and the hand holding, shooting an arched brow their way.
“Chris is going to drop me off on his way back; we’ve gotta get moving.”
Jackson looked over. “Oxford isn’t on the way to Cardiff.”
Elliot nudged his husband, silently gesturing towards their linked hands, which Isaiah couldn’t bring himself to separate.
They were allowed to exit without much fanfare, though Isaiah couldn’t help but notice the whispers behind them as they did, and he knew Chris had as well from the way his hand tensed.
The drive to Oxford was long, and as they approached, the silence in the car in the wake of the strange morning they’d had started to feel oppressive.
As the spires rose in the distance, Isaiah was violently thrust back to reality.
Everything he’d managed to escape surfaced again—Matt, Ollie, funding, and how alone he was.
“Are you alright?” Chris asked as they approached Balliol.
Isaiah smiled. “I’m fine, just mentally cataloguing all the work I’m behind on.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
Chris parked the car and turned to him. “Lie to me. You know every terrible thing about me; do you really think I can’t tell when you’re hiding something?”
“It’s nothing.”
“I mean, it’s obviously not. You’re picking your poor jumper to bits.”
Isaiah looked down at where he’d been pulling at a loose thread in his jumper. A small hole gaped where he’d been tugging at it. “It’s just this academic drama, it’s not serious. Genuinely. Nothing like the stuff with my parents. Hell, nothing like what you’re going through.”
Chris sighed. “What I’ve been going through is my own fault, Zay.
What you’ve been through… I can’t even begin to fathom it.
I doubt I’d have survived it.” Isaiah moved as if to protest, but Chris stilled him.
“You are so strong. We all see it—everyone who loves you. If you’re worried about something then it’s serious, so if there’s anything I can do to help, let me. ”
Chris didn’t seem to have notice the word, but Isaiah had.68 “Stay?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Chris gaped. Isaiah backtracked. “I mean, only if you’re free. Maybe for a couple of days? You’re probably busy so…”
“I’d like that.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Chris grinned. “I have to get the car back soon so my dad can pick Nick up from the airport, but I’m all yours until then, if you really want me.”
Isaiah smiled and laced their fingers together. “I really do.”