Greg looked around furtively, but knew no one had seen him enter the bedroom and so closed the door. He technically couldn’t disobey an order, and Johnny had ordered him to his room after bedtime, so it wasn’t wrong for him to be there. Mistress Vera didn’t like him hanging around Johnny, he knew that sure enough, even if he didn’t know why.
It was probably because he was a slave, most of the people here didn’t like slaves, well, except for Johnny. They were best friends because Johnny didn’t care that he was a slave and the other boy never told him what to do when they were alone.
“Johnny!” he hissed, looking around the large bedroom.
Johnny bolted upright in bed, a large grin showing on his face as he saw Greg standing just in front of the door. “Get over here!”
Grinning in answer, Greg ran across the room and jumped on the bed, sliding under the covers, giggling when Johnny pulled the covers over them and turned on the flashlight.
“Ssh! You’ll get us caught!” Johnny exclaimed quietly. “Mom was pissed the last time she caught us hanging out together.”
Greg nodded and said, “No one saw me.”
“Good. Hey, what do you think about Sarah?”
Greg frowned. “Sarah who?”
Eyes rolling, Johnny answered, “Sarah Bracknell, stupid.”
The frown increased and Greg asked, “What about her?”
“What do you think about her? I think she’s pretty,” Johnny said, blue eyes closing as he laid his head on the pillow.
Making a retching noise, Greg pointed out, “You’ve known her since you were in diapers, Johnny. Isn’t that like, incest or something?”
Johnny’s eyes opened and he grinned. “You should know.”
Greg scowled, hurt by the blithe comment. “That’s not funny.”
Instantly contrite, Johnny put his hand on Greg’s shoulder and apologized, “Sorry, Greg. Hey look, our 14th birthday is in a few weeks, what do you want?”
“You know you can’t give me anything,” Greg replied sullenly, not really willing to let it go. It wasn’t his fault that his father had taken an interest in him. And it wasn’t like it was wrong or anything, well, not if you weren’t Christian anyhow. Christians had weird ideas about everything.
Sighing, Johnny repeated, “I said I was sorry.”
The pleading blue eyes got to him every time, though Greg couldn’t really name the jittery feelings that came up when Johnny looked at him like that, and he caved. “All right, all right, goofball. What’re you going to get me?”
They talked long into the night, words spacing further and further apart as sleep grew more insistent. Greg found himself shifting closer to Johnny as time went on. Then, he was wrapped in the skinny arms of his friend and curled even closer, feeling a part of him stir that never had, outside of those strange night dreams that he woke up sticky from. Johnny sighed deeply, falling asleep wrapped around him, and Greg watched him in the flickering light of the flashlight until its batteries went dead.
When he woke, not even realizing that he’d fallen asleep, it was still dark outside, thankfully. He could sneak out and no one would be the wiser. But when he tried to disentangle from Johnny, his friend protested and hitched a leg around him. Greg gasped at the contact to his thing, feeling a jolt of something go through him. Johnny squirmed even closer and that was when he saw his friend was awake and grinning at him wickedly.
“Hey, ssh, don’t make a sound and I’ll show you something I saw the older boys doing in school,” Johnny whispered.
Wide eyed, Greg nodded and didn’t move as Johnny took his leg away and put his hand over Greg’s thing, rubbing it hard, but not too hard. Gasping again, one of his hands twining in the bed sheet, Greg just lay there while Johnny played with him, squeezing and rubbing him through his pants. He felt something building inside and cried out until Johnny’s free hand covered his mouth, stopping the noise. His body seized up, his thing stiffening and his hips jerking up when Johnny’s hand gripped his balls a little too tightly. He exploded, the sticky seed shooting all over Johnny’s hand and himself, and then collapsed, mind and body reeling.
Panting through his nose, he didn’t protest or even make a noise when Johnny took Greg’s hand and put it on his own thing and started rubbing. He was too devastated by what had happened to think about how his hand covered Johnny’s thing and how Johnny kept saying things like, ‘together forever, Greggie, never leaving you.’ Johnny hunched against his hand, rocking against it and squeezing his legs painfully tight around Greg’s hand as he did so. He could feel the length of his friend’s thing and gave an experimental squeeze, wanting to give Johnny something of what he’d just been given.
And then Johnny gave a muffled cry, his own sound stifled by biting Greg’s shoulder hard enough to break the skin. The pain of the bite broke through his haze of pleasure and he jerked in surprise as Johnny slumped against him, also breathing hard. A few minutes went by before Johnny rolled onto his side and smiled at him, blue eyes luminous in the dawn sunlight that was streaming through the window. His tongue traced over the bite mark and Johnny announced softly, “This means we’re joined together forever, Greggie. No one can pull us apart.”
But that proved false only a few minutes later.
Just as their lips touched in a first kiss, just as Greg was sighing into it, confused but happy about what had happened, someone shouted angrily and he was lifted forcibly away from his friend. Screaming and kicking at the person who had dared to part them, Greg was slapped hard enough across the face to make his head ring. He could hear Johnny calling out to him, but couldn’t summon any more strength to fight.
The man holding him was the headmaster of the Smith Estate and Greg knew he was in big trouble.
* * * *
Waking at the start to his first whipping, always a painful memory and a horrible dream, Greg sighed and rolled out of bed. He crossed to the small bathroom he shared with three other slaves at the rehab facility and stared at his reflection. He could just barely make out the bite scar that Johnny had given him on his upper right shoulder. It was the only good memory he had of his childhood, because once he’d been taken from Johnny and whipped to within an inch of his life, Greg had been relegated to working on a different property.
All through the intervening years, when Johnny had gone to college and been engaged to Sarah, all that time Greg been consumed with his feelings for the other man. He didn’t feel bitterness towards Johnny, just at the circumstances that had made him a slave and the forces that had kept them apart. It wasn’t Johnny’s fault that they’d been kept apart and it certainly wasn’t Johnny’s fault for being a dutiful son and going out with, and then proposing to, Sarah.
Even if the snippy little woman did make Greg sick and he knew that Johnny could have done a lot better.
After Johnny’s accident and subsequent coma, when everyone had abandoned Johnny and old Mistress Vera had died, Greg had managed to get it so that he was the one to look after his first and only love. It had taken a lot of planning, but if there was one thing he was good at, it was maneuvering things so that a good outcome, or at least the outcome that he wanted, was the end result. So for the last five years, he’d been caring for Johnny, looking after all his bodily needs and sleeping in the slaves’ quarters of the long-term care facility.
Finally gathering himself together, Greg splashed some water on his face and took care of his morning necessities before going back into the bedroom and getting dressed. Loose fitting white pants, rather like sweats, but made from a stronger cotton, and a simple white shirt, coupled with his bare feet and plain brass chain, denoted his slave status by sight.
Once ready for the day, he left the room with its still sleeping inhabitants and padded silently down the hall to Johnny’s room. It was a private room, which was only right, and Greg sat on the edge of the bed, brushing his fingertips through the soft, light-brown hair. It was blond-ish if the other were outside a lot, he remembered that from their childhood. “Morning, Master.”
Thankfully, no one cared who Greg called Master. He leaned in to kiss the soft cheek, then started getting the shaving kit and bowl of hot water ready. It didn’t take long to run through the shaving and sponge bath, even though Greg moved slowly and carefully, making sure the unconscious man was truly as clean as he could be. It was a task of love for him, and one that he never shirked.
“Mornin’ Greg.”
Looking back at Bruce’s cheerful voice, Greg smiled and replied, “Morning, Bruce. How’re you doing?”
“Not too bad, my man, not too bad,” Bruce said, winking. “How’s my patient this morning?”
“The same,” Greg answered, regretful.
Rubbing Greg’s shoulder, Bruce assured him, “Things happen for a reason, and I know Johnny’s still alive for some purpose that we don’t know about yet. He’ll come out of it if you just have faith.”
“I do.”
“I know.”
Grinning at each other, on the same page as they often were, they began the daily routine of keeping Johnny Smith’s body ready and waiting for him when his consciousness returned.
* * * *
Hearing someone shouting from the direction of Johnny’s room, Greg ran back down the hall flat out, panic rising that someone was again trying to take him off life-support and that the nurses this time wouldn’t be able to stop the fanatic. When he skidded to a halt outside the room and dashed inside, it was to find Johnny himself shouting at a nurse about a fire and a little girl, gripping her arm with bruising force.
Shock held him motionless and Greg just stood there, moving aside when the doctors pushed their way into the room. When Johnny finally let the nurse go and collapsed back on the bed, the doctors swooped in, examining him thoroughly. The nurse rushed passed Greg, pale and shaken, and he watched her run to a phone, then looked back at Johnny.
The blue eyes were still wild, white around the edges like a panicked animal’s might be, but he was submitting to the doctors and letting them look him over. When they started talking about scheduling tests, Johnny exclaimed, “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on!?”
“You’ve been in a coma for six years, Johnny,” the lead doctor said at last. “You were in a car accident.”
Eyes wide in shocked disbelief, Johnny repeated, “Six years?”
At that, Greg stepped forward, making his way through the doctors and stopping at the bedside to say, “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”
Johnny looked at him for a few seconds without any recognition at all. It wasn’t until Greg offered him a shy smile that the blank expression was chased away and some measure of relief crossed Johnny’s face. “Greg! Thank God!”
Greg smiled and replied, “The doctors here are excellent, Master, you should trust them.”
There was still confusion evident, but Johnny nodded agreement and looked at Dr. Tran Chi Luc again, agreeing, “All right, schedule your tests. But I want to talk to Sarah and my Mother as soon as possible.”
Greg exchanged looks with the young doctor, who said, “I’ll leave you to reacquaint Mr. Smith about recent events. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call me.”
“What recent events?” Johnny demanded when the doctor had left.
Looking only at the floor, Greg said, “I’m afraid that Sarah has been married for five years, Master. And, you’re mother passed away three years ago.”
“Oh God,” Johnny gasped. “Greg, please tell me you’re joking?”
Greg glanced up at Johnny to find him even paler than before and shook his head. He wasn’t sad for either the marriage or the death, but he was sad that it upset Johnny so much. “I’m afraid not, Master. Sarah’s married to the Sheriff and they have a son. And your mother, well, she died peacefully in her sleep.”
Though he had his suspicions about the true father of Sarah’s son, Greg didn’t bring it up, knowing that it wasn’t the right time. He wanted nothing more than to comfort the other man and threw caution to the wind to do so. Sitting on the bed, he wrapped his arms around Johnny.
Johnny remained stiff and unyielding for a long minute, then slowly crumpled into the embrace, accepting the comfort. When he started shaking, Greg ran his hand soothingly up and down Johnny’s back, kissing him and murmuring nonsense words. Everything really was going to be all right, now that he was awake and back in Greg’s life.
* * * *
The first time that Bruce saw Johnny Smith awake and aware, it was like an electric shock ran through him. Kind and sad blue eyes locked with his, pinning him in place, and it honestly felt like his heart had stopped.
A few seconds ran by before amusement entered those brilliant eyes and Johnny asked, “Are you okay?”
Shaking himself from the mini-paralysis, Bruce nodded and answered, “Yeah, fine. Uh, thanks. Sorry, it’s just…seeing you awake is a little…”
“Weird?”
“Yeah.”
“Disconcerting?”
“Oh yeah.”
“I get that.”
Bruce grinned at the dry response, his natural humor rising to the occasion to smooth things over. He closed the distance to the bed and held out his hand. “Name’s Bruce Lewis, I’m your physical therapist and I’ll be helping you to literally get back on your feet.”
The smile faded as Johnny kind of waved and replied, “Sorry, but, touching things gives me visions and I’m really trying to avoid that.”
Lips pursed, Bruce kept his hand out and observed, “I have to touch you in order to help you. Give it a try, okay? I promise you that I lead a very dull life. The only thing of excitement you might see is last Friday’s date, and hey, I’m a little bit of an exhibitionist, so that’s cool.”
Hesitant, Johnny accepted his hand. Relief swept across his expressive, handsome face and he exclaimed, “No vision!”
“Well see? Told you I was boring,” Bruce teased.
A smile surfaced and Johnny replied, “Somehow, I doubt that.”
Flushing a little at the compliment, Bruce cleared his throat and said, “All right, let’s see what you got, Mr. Psychic.”
The session lasted only an hour and Bruce was able to keep his attention on the job at hand; evaluating Johnny. He found what he expected to find for someone who’d been in a coma for six years – debilitating muscle problems and bones that weren’t nearly as strong as they should be. For the first, there was physical therapy that would help get Johnny back on his feet. For the second, well, it would help once the muscles were back in action, but Johnny would have to be careful about breaking anything.
“Not,” Bruce finished up with a grin, “that anyone should go around breaking normal bones, but yours are a little extra fragile right now.”
Johnny grinned in return and asked, “So how long have you worked here?”
“Oh, a few years now.”
“And you like it?”
Bruce nodded, packing up his equipment, and confirmed, “It’s a good place to work.”
“I imagine that it’s going to take a long time to get me to a…an independent state,” Johnny questioned slowly.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Bruce replied, “I won’t sugar coat it, John. It’s going to hurt, and it’s going to take a lot of work, but if you keep at it and do what I tell you, then you’re going to get most of your mobility back.”
“Most?”
“I’d say at least eighty-five to ninety percent.”
Thoughtful, Johnny said, “The doctors have all said that I’d be lucky to get seventy-five percent mobility.”
Flashing him another grin, Bruce informed him, “That’s because they don’t know I’m a miracle worker when I’m motivated.”
“And you’re motivated now?” Johnny asked, that teasing tone back.
Bruce smiled, his gaze lingering long enough to provoke a pink hue on John’s face, then answered, “Oh yeah. I am definitely motivated.”
* * * *
Confusion was not a natural state of being for Johnny and he hated it with a passion. It was one of the reasons that he’d become a science teacher, despite his family’s fortune and his mother’s ambitions for his future. Ambitions that had included long terms in the Senate and a powerful marriage alliance. Science was something he could count on, as was being a teacher. He loved that look on a kid’s face when a concept finally made sense, it gave him a solid sense of accomplishment.
Something that he could definitely use right then, especially given his body’s lack of cooperation.
Waking up six years after the car wreck had put him in a perpetual state of confusion and it was seriously starting to piss him off. Though he knew the basic facts of what had happened, no one had been able to fill him in as to the details of his mother’s death. He knew that the doctors had called Reverend Purdy to inform him that Johnny was awake, but so far, the older man was a no show. And Johnny wasn’t holding his breath for any visit from Sarah, since she’d moved on with her life and had a new family.
It wasn’t until the third day after he’d awoken that Reverend Purdy showed up. The other man was heavier and had a beard and some wrinkles, but those were about the only changes that seven years had wrought in him.
A smile surfaced on the older man’s face as he greeted warmly, “Johnny! It is so wonderful to see you awake and alert! Something I have prayed for, these last six years!”
Somehow, Johnny wasn’t quite up to believing that, but he returned the smile anyhow. “Hi, Gene. Looks like the years have been treating you all right.”
Pulling a chair over to the bed, Purdy replied, “I can’t complain. Faith Heritage is stronger than ever, thanks in part to your Mother’s sainted actions.”
Her donations, more than likely, Johnny thought, then banished it as uncharitable. “I’m glad to hear it. Can you tell me…what happened to her? How did she die?”
Solemn, Purdy explained, “She went peacefully in her sleep, Johnny. As ways to pass into the Afterlife, it was a good way to go. And being such a wonderful woman, so kind and giving, I know that she’s assured a place in Heaven.”
Johnny sighed, not feeling any satisfaction at the answer, even though he knew that he should have. Shifting restlessly on the bed, he asked, “Have you talked to Sarah recently? How is she?”
“I saw her last week, as a matter of fact, and she’s doing well. You’ve heard that she’s…”
“Married with a son? Yeah,” Johnny finished.
“I’m sorry, Johnny, I know it doesn’t seem fair, but things happen for a reason, and I think it’s obvious now that you were meant for greater things than being a science teacher and marrying Sarah, despite her family’s position in this state. I understand from your doctors that you had a vision.”
Knowing Gene as he did and how he liked to put a religious cast on anything, especially if it was to his benefit, Johnny nodded. “I did. A little girl who was trapped in a fire, daughter of one of the nurses.”
“It’s God’s work, Johnny, God’s work.”
Almost rolling his eyes at the statement, Johnny countered, “It’s the reorganization of part of my brain, Gene.”
“He works in mysterious ways,” Purdy replied, serene. “In any case, I don’t want to tire you out. I just wanted to see for myself how you were and to assure you that you have all the financial resources that you need. If there’s a better facility that will help you become 100%, then we’ll move you there.”
Remembering Bruce’s competent, gentle hands on him and the kind, dark eyes, Johnny shook his head. “I’m fine where I am, but thank you.”
Purdy stood and said, “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will, thanks Gene,” Johnny assured him.
Purdy held his hand out, but Johnny shook his head, not wanting to risk a vision. Purdy gave him an understanding smile, waved and left.
Once he was gone, Greg entered the room, eyes downcast as he whispered, “Am I being sent away, Master?”
Fairly uncomfortable with having his childhood friend call him ‘master,’ Johnny shook his head and said firmly, “No one is sending you away, Greg. You’re a big help to me and you’re staying right where you are.”
Lifting his head, Greg smiled at him. Johnny caught his breath at the brilliant happiness radiating from the blue orbs. Such a little thing to make the other so happy.
“Thank you, Master!” Greg exclaimed.
“Am I interrupting?”
They both looked over at Bruce, who was just at the doorway, holding his physical therapy equipment. Johnny smiled and waved him in. “No, not at all. Let’s get started.”
* * * *
Johnny groaned as he shifted yet again in his bed, unable to find a comfortable position. It had been a grueling two months of physical therapy and he still had to rely heavily on his new cane, but he was mobile again. More than mobile enough to go home, though Bruce had warned him to take it easy for the first couple of weeks.
Coming home again had been unnerving and upsetting. It was silent and empty, not at all the busy, bustling home he remembered. His mother, of course, wasn’t there to give it life anymore. Greg was a godsend, no doubt about it, making sure that the house was prepared well before they got there and arranging for transportation. He still wasn’t too sure how he felt about having Greg as a slave, but there was little doubt that Greg loved it.
Johnny wasn’t all that certain the other man would be able to live free, since he’d been a slave for most of his life. It wouldn’t be so bad if he couldn’t see the love shining from those blue eyes. Taking care of Johnny appeared to be Greg’s life’s work and it was more than a bit disconcerting to realize that he’d inspired that kind of devotion without any effort at all.
“Master?”
Speak of the devil. Smiling to himself, Johnny looked over at the door and asked, “What is it, Greg?”
“Are you all right?” Greg questioned, anxious. “I heard you groan.”
Nodding, Johnny assured him, “I’m just a little sore from the day, that’s all.”
“I could…give you a massage. Bruce showed me how to do it a long time ago.”
Even though he didn’t want to tease Greg by allowing the slave to touch him like that, Johnny knew he wasn’t going to get to sleep without some kind of assistance. Sighing, he nodded again and said, “Sure, thanks Greg.”
Greg left the room only to return a few minutes later with a bucket of lotions and oils. Stopping at the bed, he stated, “It will be easier if you’re dressed in as little as possible, Master.”
Once Johnny had stripped out of his sweats and t-shirt, Greg settled the bucket beside him on the bed and ordered softly, “Turn over.”
Johnny did so and the slave straddled him from behind, though he didn’t sit on Johnny, just knelt above him. Hands roamed slowly over his back, warm and slick with oil, and the scent of lavender filled the air, soothing. He let loose a sigh of relaxation as Greg continued to work him over without any sign that this was about something other than a massage.
From the back, Greg moved down over the ass, without lingering, to the thighs that were still malleable and not yet firm with muscle. By the time Greg returned to his upper body to do his arms, Johnny was nearly asleep. Once the upper body had been taken care of, right down to his fingertips, a butterfly kiss to the back of his neck set his senses on alert. Johnny waited for more, but nothing was forthcoming. Greg climbed off him and he turned his head to watch as the slave gathered his things together.
Greg met his gaze and smiled, slow and seductive. “That doesn’t seem to have made you sleepy, Master. I can offer you another option that I’m sure will work.”
Johnny’s cock hardened at the invitation, digging into the mattress and making him squirm a little. It had been a long time, even not counting the coma, since he’d had a man and here he was being offered his needs on a silver platter. And yet, he wasn’t like that. It wasn’t in him to just take what he wanted without thought or consideration to the other person or people involved, and he wasn’t about to start. Sighing in regret, Johnny replied, “As much as I’d love to say yes, Greg, I can’t.”
“Why not?” Greg questioned, eyes downcast.
Johnny turned onto his side and explained, “I’d just be using you, Greg. I don’t love you, I’m still in love with Sarah. For me, it was only a few months ago that we were engaged to be married.”
“What if…what if I want you to take me? To Claim me,” Greg whispered. Raising his eyes, he continued, “I’ve wanted nothing but that since we were thirteen.”
Another sigh escaped, this one guilt and regret mingling together, and Johnny said, “Greg, we were just kids back then. Neither of us was in love with the other, just exploring our bodies.”
But Greg shook his head, firm and even emphatic as he stated, “No, not for me. I loved you then, and I love you now, Master. Even if you had never come out of that coma, I would love you until my dying day.”
The utter certainty in Greg’s voice and face set off something deep inside Johnny. The devotion that practically radiated from those blue eyes called to him, demanding some kind of intimate action. Johnny motioned briefly and Greg instantly dropped the bucket to climb back on the bed.
Gripping the back of Greg’s neck, Johnny questioned, quiet and serious, “You want me to Claim you? Make sure that you’re mine for the rest of your life even if I don’t love you? It’s not going to eat you alive when I marry and have children? Or if I take a lover and bear his children for him? It won’t kill you to hear me with someone else while you watch, or maybe even spread your legs for him because he wants it and I want to please him? Think really carefully, Greg, because this is your last chance.”
Greg didn’t even hesitate. He just repeated, “Claim me, please Master. Whatever our lives are like, however they turn out, so long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters.”
And Johnny might have been Christian before the coma, might even still be, he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to forgo that kind of offer. He yanked Greg down and rolled on top of him, seizing his mouth in a deep, sucking kiss. His hands fumbled for the drawstring on Greg’s pants, hard and desperate to plunge into the willing body beneath him. Greg’s hands joined his and finally the pants came off to be kicked aside. Greg pulled his legs up and out of the way, winding his arms around Johnny’s neck while his cock was lined up.
It was a fast, hard shove into Greg and Johnny shuddered in pleasure as the almost excruciatingly tight hole clamped down around him. The slave cried out in pain, hands clawing at Johnny’s back as he struggled to get away, despite his words of before. But Johnny had been working out steadily for the last couple of months and his upper body was more than strong enough to hold Greg in place.
Once all the way in, Johnny stopped to let Greg adjust to him, panting and collecting his control. Greg sobbed quietly with the pain, but no longer struggled, his legs slack to the side. Pushing up on his elbows, Johnny wiped the tears from Greg’s cheek and whispered, “You feel so good, Greggie, so tight and perfect. Just for me, aren’t you? No one’s ever had you before, have they?”
Greg’s breath hitched as he shook his head and stammered, “N-no. No one.”
Kissing him again, this time slow and soft, Johnny coaxed the mouth open again and slid his tongue around inside. A few seconds later, Greg took the hint and moved his tongue against Johnny’s, responding with growing enthusiasm. Breaking off the kiss, Johnny licked his way down the narrow throat to suck lightly on the bobbing Adam’s apple, then bit and sucked on the juncture of throat and shoulder. One hand played and pinched an exposed nipple, provoking a gasp from Greg, who arched into the caress.
His cock was throbbing with need, but he ignored it as best he could. It wouldn’t be long before he could start up again and he wanted Greg to get some pleasure from this as well. “How do you feel, Greg? Better? Should I go on?”
Before he got an answer though, there was a flash of white…
And suddenly, it was a different time of day. They were still in his bed, but it was day instead of night. And he was still buried inside Greg, but pain flared through his own ass, causing him to gasp. Someone’s cock was thick and hard inside him, lodged so deep that Johnny couldn’t tell where he left off, and the other person began. Greg looked on him with love and understanding as that unknown someone began fucking him in earnest, not pausing to let the pain die completely away. Hard, driving thrusts as he was fucked, and he was held helpless between the two bodies. He cried out in pleasure and pain, arching into it and…
He was back in his bedroom, thrusting in and out of Greg, taking and Claiming him with wild abandon that would have worried him, if not for the ecstatic expression on Greg’s face. The slave’s mouth was open and his arms were over his head, gripping the headboard to brace himself for the Claiming. Johnny felt the body loosen around him by force, his come most likely mixed with blood as it went on and on.
An eternity later, orgasm tightened his body and he moaned, humping even more violently into the pliant body under him.
“Master, please, please let me come, please, oh God, my God, my Master, need it, need to come,” Greg begged, eyes clenched shut as he was ridden into the mattress.
Feeling himself about to go over the edge, he gasped, “Come, Greggie! Come for me!”
Greg shouted, jerking and arching in his arms, spilling between their bodies. His ass clamped down around Johnny’s cock again and this time, it forced him over the edge. He lunged one last time into Greg and stayed there, digging in as deep as he could and filling his slave with seed. His heart thundered in his chest as he collapsed on Greg, his cock spitting more come in the tight hole.
Clinging to him, Greg soothed him through the aftershocks where his body seemed out of control, shaking and coming on its own timetable. Kissing Johnny’s temple, running his fingers through the sweat-dampened hair, Greg kept one leg around his Master’s waist, keeping him in place deep inside. Then he whispered, just as darkness crept over Johnny, “One day, your seed will fill me and take root and it will be the second happiest day of my life, Master.”
* * * *
Bruce frowned as he realized that Johnny’s ever-present shadow wasn’t around. “Where’s Greg?”
Flushing, Johnny answered, “Sleeping.”
“At ten in the morning?” Bruce questioned, arching an eyebrow at him.
Johnny cleared his throat and a soft smile surfaced as he met Bruce’s eyes and explained, “In my bed. I was, um, a little rough last night.”
Feeling distinctly uncomfortable about the announcement, Bruce covered it with a neutral, “You Claimed him.”
“Yeah. It was…well, I mean, I wasn’t going to. I’ve known Greg since we were kids, you know? Hey, have a seat,” Johnny offered, taking a spot on the couch.
Bruce sat and, even though he really didn’t want details, he did. So he ignored the infatuated expression on Johnny’s face as he recounted the childhood of stolen moments and his first time with someone other than his own, curious hand. Not that there had been much, but from Johnny’s far-away expression, it had been memorable.
“So he gave me a massage last night and I really wasn’t going to do anything else, but he offered…no, that doesn’t sound right. He wanted me to Claim him,” Johnny continued, obviously struggling with the words. “I was clear to him that I didn’t love him, that it would just be physical for me, but he didn’t care. Said that he’d been waiting for it his whole life and really, I could not turn him down after that, Bruce. He would have been so heartbroken. And you know, I’m not sure it was the wrong thing to do because now…”
“Now you think you might love him,” Bruce supplied when Johnny’s words trailed off again.
Half-grinning, Johnny replied, “Strange, isn’t it? And here’s an even weirder thing. Right in the middle of, um, everything, I had a vision.”
“Of?”
Johnny’s fair skin pinked again and he answered, “Of me in Greg, but, well, there was someone else in me.”
Not if I have anything to say about it, Bruce thought angrily. Some of that must have shown on his face, because Johnny’s smile faded into uncertainty. Hasty, Bruce asked, “So what’s on the agenda today?”
Johnny allowed the change in subject and answered, “Sarah’s coming over in about an hour. I tried to tell her I had an appointment with you but…”
“She’s an important woman, I understand,” Bruce assured him with a smile. “We can get started with your exercises and take a break when she gets here.”
“Thanks, man, I appreciate it,” Johnny said gratefully.
Bruce stood and ordered, “Well, let’s get your butt in gear.”
It was a short walk to the study, which had been quasi-converted into a workout area for Johnny and Bruce. They had just gotten into a routine when Johnny stopped and said, “Hang on a minute, Bruce.”
Bruce turned and saw Greg hovering uncertainly by the door, which was where Johnny made a beeline for. He watched as Johnny fussed over settling Greg onto the sofa and sighed to himself. They did make a good looking couple, there was no doubt about that. Johnny was bigger and clearly stronger, even with the limp, and Greg’s slender body seemed made to be held by the bigger man. Both with blue eyes and light hair, Greg’s refined features a counterpoint for Johnny’s handsome, etched face.
“There. Now just stay put,” Johnny ordered, cupping Greg’s face gently.
Greg leaned into the caress and answered, “I should be getting things ready for Mistress Sarah’s visit.”
Shaking his head, Johnny commanded, “Don’t move. Sarah’s not really company and you should still be in bed.”
“I’m fine, Master,” Greg insisted.
Johnny stopped further protest with a lingering kiss and, when he pulled back, Greg sighed happily and settled down under the blanket. Taking one more moment to brush his fingers through the short hair, Johnny returned to Bruce and apologized, “Sorry about that.”
“Hey, no problem,” Bruce replied, forcing a smile. It wasn’t like he had a right to be upset. And he was happy that Greg was happy, knowing how devoted to Johnny the slave had been over the years. “Now let’s get you working!”
Johnny smiled and nodded, resuming his exercises.
They worked for a good twenty minutes on stretches before a woman said, “Well isn’t this cozy?”
Turning, Bruce got his first up close and personal view of Sheriff Bannerman’s wife, and Johnny’s old flame, Sarah. Whenever she’d been at the rehab center, he’d either been off-site or busy with another client. She was petite and pretty, which he knew from the pictures he’d seen of her, but there was an edge to her that hadn’t been captured in photos. An edge that reminded him of a dangerous predator and he kept a wary eye on her.
Wiping the sweat from his face with his shirt, Johnny got slowly to his feet. Bruce offered him a hand up, but the other man declined. Smiling, Johnny crossed the room and greeted, “Sarah, hi. How are you?”
“Good, Johnny, thanks,” she answered, accepting the chaste kiss to her cheek. She smiled up at him and continued, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come later, but I have that luncheon to get to.”
“No, it’s no problem, let’s talk in the living room,” Johnny offered.
Bruce watched them leave and snorted to himself. Johnny wasn’t exactly subtle and he had the feeling that the other man would be eaten alive if Sarah decided that she wanted him back, instead of staying with the Sheriff. Glancing at Greg, he was startled to find the slave curled up into a ball on the sofa, the blanket covering him completely.
Frowning, he asked, “Greg? You okay, man?”
“Is she gone?” came the muffled response.
Bemused, Bruce assured him, “Yeah, she’s gone.”
Greg peeked out from under the blanket and said matter-of-factly, “She doesn’t like me.”
“Why do you think that?” Bruce questioned, moving to the couch.
Shifting into a sitting position with a wince, Greg explained, “I think I remind her that she didn’t stick by Johnny and it makes her feel guilty.”
Makes sense, Bruce thought. “Everyone likes you.”
Greg smiled brilliantly at that and said, “Not her, but thanks. So how is my Master doing?”
Bruce waved off the concern with, “He’s fine. He’s always going to have a residual weakness in that leg, but considering how many pieces it was in, that’s no surprise.”
“So he’s going to need that cane the rest of his life?” Greg questioned, frowning.
Bruce nodded and confirmed, “Probably. But other than that, he’s healthy as a horse.”
Greg seemed to relax at that, but he was still unusually tense as he said, “I should get some refreshments together for them.”
Bruce gripped his shoulder and gently pushed him back down onto the couch. “You should stay right where you are or Johnny’s going to throw a hissy. As a matter of fact, have you seen a doctor? You could be injured if he got all that rough with you.”
A flush heated along Greg’s face and he answered, “Johnny called one out first thing this morning when we woke up. The doctor was not happy, that’s for sure. And I’m fine, Bruce, really. Didn’t even need any stitches. Johnny’s got my diet mapped out for the next week to make things easier on me.”
Bruce grinned and observed, “Sounds like him.”
“Do you think, um, could you go check on him?” Greg asked hesitantly. His eyes flickered to the door and he continued, “The last time she visited him in the hospital, well, he was really upset after. He wouldn’t even get out of bed the rest of the day.”
“Where the hell was I?” Bruce demanded.
“At that medical conference in Boston.”
Oh, right. Scowling, Bruce said, “What did they talk about last time and why is she here now if he was so upset?”
“His son.”
Bruce’s jaw dropped open. “You mean the Sheriff’s son is really Johnny’s?”
Greg nodded. “All you have to do is look at pictures of Johnny as a kid to see how much JJ takes after him. And she’s not going to acknowledge that Johnny’s the father, either. That’s what upset him so much. I don’t know why she’s here today, but I know she’s probably dangling that in front of him. She can be…vindictive.”
Standing, not surprised by the slave’s observation, Bruce ordered, “You stay put. Lay back down and I’ll go check on them.”
Greg obeyed, and Bruce couldn’t help himself from tucking the blankets around the slave. There was just something about the other man that called on his protective nature. Same damn thing that happened around Johnny, too, and he couldn’t imagine anyone who needed protection less than Johnny.
Ignoring the fluttering in his stomach at the thought of Johnny and Greg both under his protection, Bruce tweaked Greg’s nose, provoking a smile from the slave, and left the study-come-training room.
It was only a few feet down the hall that he heard the raised voices and that made him hurry. He paused right at the door though, and peered inside instead of barging in. Johnny’s arms were crossed over his chest and his face was flushed red with emotion, while Sarah stood directly in front of him, hands on her hips.
“You’ve already saved a little girl from dying in a fire, and stopped a serial killer! How much more of a sign do you need, Johnny? Why are you being stupid about this?” Sarah exclaimed, stalking away from him.
Taking a breath, Johnny answered, obviously striving to stay calm, “I am not some oracle that the Faith Heritage can use as a symbol or rallying flag of the One, True God, Sarah. I refuse to be used like that by anyone! This is a medical condition, a rewiring of my brain, and not a miracle by anyone’s God or Gods. Period. End of discussion.”
“When did you become an atheist, Johnny?” Sarah questioned. “I know you still believe in God. You’re a good man who’s understandably shaken by what’s happened, but you can’t blame God for this gift.”
“Gift!?” Johnny snapped. “What the hell kind of Gift do you think this is!?”
“Johnny, hey. Sorry to interrupt man, but if we don’t get you back to the matt, you’re going to waste the whole routine,” Bruce intervened, sensing that Johnny was close to saying something he’d regret later.
His jaw was flexing as Johnny reined it in, but he nodded agreement and said, “Sarah, I hope you reconsider your decision about not telling Johnny, but please don’t use him as an excuse to plead Gene’s case for him ever again. You know the way out.”
Bruce watched as Johnny walked stiffly down the hallway, back towards the study, then glanced over at Sarah.
She smiled thinly and said, “Thank you for that. Johnny can be…emotional.”
Shrugging, Bruce replied, “I did it for him, not you, Mistress Bannerman. I don’t know what the deal is, but you should tread carefully. Maybe he has been tapped for some higher calling, I don’t know. What I do know, is that Johnny’s a good friend of mine and I won’t have him hurt by anyone. I don’t care how much power you’ve got in this state.”
He didn’t wait for a response, just turned and headed after Johnny.
* * * *
“I should have known this was coming,” Johnny exclaimed, the moment Bruce entered the room. He kept pacing around the study, ignoring his throbbing leg. He was too pissed to go back to the exercise routine, even though he knew that he should.
“John, calm down, man. It’s not like they can force you to give them visions or anything,” Bruce pointed out, stopping just outside his pacing zone.
Rounding on the other man, Johnny snapped, “No, but they can make my life a living hell if they want to! Do you know how many phone calls I’ve received from the local Temples, even though I’ve never set foot in one in my life? Even though I was raised a Christian? That doesn’t matter a bit, though. And Gene…don’t even get me started on Reverend Purdy’s ridiculous claims that I’m supposed to be a Prophet for the Faith!”
Hands up, Bruce grinned and said, “I’ll try not to get you started, man, we wouldn’t want that.”
Johnny stopped short at that, then snorted. Rueful, he asked, “I’ve gone a little crazy, right?”
“Not like you don’t have cause,” Bruce commiserated. “But John, they can’t force you to do anything. None of them. Your powers are yours. And you’re just discovering what they can and can’t do. It isn’t like you got a training manual or anything. Be patient with yourself, okay?”
Nodding, Johnny ran a hand through his hair and took a step towards him. And maybe Bruce had a little psychic power himself, because just as his leg crumpled and Johnny started to fall, strong arms caught him up. He clung to Bruce as the other man scooped him up, reminding him that as strong as he was, the black man was stronger. Bruce was deceptively lean, and additionally, hid his body beneath multiple layers of clothes. He was carefully set down on the sofa that Greg had just vacated and groaned as the pain stabbed through his upper leg and sciatica.
“That’s what you get,” Bruce admonished softly, his hands already digging in to pressure points and massaging through the pain.
Groaning again, this time in relief, Johnny gasped, “Thanks for the support, Bruce.”
Bruce grinned, though it was clearly forced, and answered, “Anytime, man, anytime. And Greg? Sit your ass down in the chair over there. I don’t need both of you getting hurt on my watch.”
Johnny was startled by the iron tone of Bruce’s voice, but not surprised that Greg instantly obeyed. He wasn’t a slave and Johnny would have obeyed Bruce without question. As it was, he was only able to lie there while Bruce created more pain for a few minutes in order to get rid of the majority of the fire that sliced through him. By the time Bruce was just working his legs in a regular massage, Johnny was wiped out and struggling to stay awake.
“Don’t fight it, John, just go to sleep,” Bruce said softly, rubbing at Johnny’s temple. “You’ve had a stressful day, but don’t worry now. I’m going to take care of you. No one’s going to use you or your powers, and you’re going to get some uninterrupted sleep for a change.”
Reaching up, Johnny gripped Bruce’s wrist weakly and asked, “Don’t leave me?”
“I won’t. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” Bruce promised, dark eyes filled with warmth.
With that reassurance, Johnny slipped into sleep.
* * * *
Greg could see it happening, and knew there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He could see how much Bruce loved Johnny and that his Master was starting to return those feelings. How could he not? Bruce was a good man; honorable and caring, open-minded and filled with a zest for life that was very attractive. Most of all, he was a caretaker and that was exactly what Johnny needed. Someone to look out for him, with all the Temples plus Faith Heritage hovering around like predators.
As much as Greg could take care of Johnny emotionally and physically, he couldn’t take care of the things that were affecting his Master from the outside. He just didn’t have that kind of power, being a slave. He often daydreamed of a world where he had the power to keep the bad things at bay, to keep Johnny in a cocoon of his protection. And even though he savored every touch and every kiss, Greg felt a kind of heartbreak waiting to happen, too. The knowledge that it was only a matter of time before Bruce declared himself clouded everything over
Bruce was over at the house more than he wasn’t, leaving only when he had clients and when it was time to get home for the night. Greg participated in the exercises, learning the ones that needed two people so that Johnny would always have someone to work with. He never felt purposely excluded, but the budding relationship was naturally exclusive. There would be times when Johnny and Bruce would just vegged on the sofa and watch reruns that were new to Johnny, or sit and talk about events going on in the world.
At night, when Bruce left, was Greg’s time. He shared his Master’s bed and gave his body and heart every night, feeling the love that Johnny returned, even if he didn’t know it. Every caress and every lick over his skin showed him. Whenever Johnny kissed him like it would never end, or gently sucked on his cock, or took him slow and easy, Greg felt that love and cherished it. When dawn came, he was always a little sad to wake up, even though it was in his Master’s arms.
It was about a week after Sarah’s visit that Reverend Purdy stopped by and, as it happened, Bruce wasn’t there. The therapist had left not an hour earlier for an appointment, and while Greg had his suspicions about the timing of it all, he nonetheless opened the door and murmured, “I’ll tell Master Johnny that you’re here, Reverend.”
Purdy didn’t deign to answer, he simply walked into the living room. Greg made a face at his back, then walked quickly to the kitchen where Johnny was eating lunch. “It’s Reverend Purdy, Master.”
Johnny heaved a sigh and said, “All right. Do me a favor and call Bruce? I’ll probably need him by the time this is over.”
“Yes, Master,” Greg agreed, heading for the phone.
Bruce picked up with, “Talk to me!”
“Bruce, it’s me.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Reverend Purdy’s here,” Greg answered simply.
“Damn it! And I can’t miss this appointment, either. All right. Call me the minute the windbag leaves, okay?”
“I will.”
“Take care of our boy, Greg.”
Warmed by the unexpected inclusion, Greg smiled and promised, “I will.”
Hanging up, Greg hurried into the living room where he took up position behind Johnny, who was sitting on the sofa. He rubbed at the tense shoulders, but it didn’t do any good, they remained hard as a rock.
“I told you before, and I’ll tell you again. I am not your puppet,” Johnny stated evenly. “My visions don’t work like an Oracle’s, and even if they did, I still wouldn’t use them to benefit the Alliance.”
Shaking his head, Gene replied, “I’m sorry you feel that way, Johnny, but you don’t have a choice.”
“I sure as hell do!” Johnny snapped.
Purdy pulled a piece of paper from his coat pocket and held it out to Johnny, who snatched it from him. Greg looked over his shoulder, glad that he’d been taught to read at an early age, before he’d become a slave. It was mostly legal jargon, but from what he was able to gather, it said that Johnny could not use his powers to benefit anyone except the Faith Heritage.
Fury laced Johnny’s voice as he snarled, “You got an injunction!? How is that even possible?”
Gene shrugged. “You gave me no choice.”
“Get out of my house and don’t come back.”
“Once you calm down…”
“Get the hell out of my house!”
The Reverend nodded and left, apparently deciding that there was no way to talk to Johnny when he was this angry.
Greg couldn’t do anything except watch while Johnny again paced the floor, though there was no running commentary like when Sarah had been over. He stayed where he was, knowing that it was best for both of them to just keep out of Johnny’s way. Greg had never seen the other man this furious before and wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. Then he remembered that he had to call Bruce and slipped out of the room.
Thankfully, Johnny didn’t even notice him leaving. He got Bruce’s voicemail and exclaimed, “Bruce! You have to come home right away! Reverend Purdy got some kind of injunction that is supposed to stop Johnny from using his powers unless it’s for the Faith Heritage Alliance. Johnny’s so furious and I don’t know what to do, please get here as soon as you can!”
When he got back to the living room, Johnny was on the floor, holding his leg and writhing in pain. Running the rest of the way, Greg dropped to his knees and exclaimed, “Master, please, tell me where it hurts!”
“All up and down my leg,” Johnny gritted out, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. “My sciatica again, my lower back, too.”
Which was way beyond his limited skills.
“I called Bruce, so he’ll be here soon. Let me get you some medicine to help until he gets here.”
It spoke of how much pain Johnny was in that he just nodded acceptance of the meds that he was usually so vocal about not taking. Greg ran to the upstairs bathroom, grabbed the pills, ran to the kitchen to get some water, and then rushed back to Johnny. Carefully lifting Johnny’s head, Greg put two of the pills into his mouth and held the glass up for him.
Johnny swallowed easily, then asked, “Are you okay?”
Surprised, Greg repeated, “Me?”
“Yes, you. Purdy didn’t try anything, did he?”
Leaning into the hand that cupped his face, even as shaky as it was, Greg shook his head. “No, Master, he wasn’t here long enough.”
“The old letch. He’s such a hypocrite,” Johnny mumbled, his hand falling away as he got comfortable on Greg’s lap. “Protect you, Greggie, I will. Doesn’t matter how. Love you.”
The words started Greg’s heart to pounding and he bent down to kiss Johnny’s forehead tenderly. “I love you too, Master.”
Then he settled in to wait.
* * * *
Bruce pushed his key into the front door and cursed when it didn’t catch the first time. Taking a breath, he calmed down and tried again. Getting it the second time, he pushed the large, wooden door open and shut and locked it before heading inside and called, “Johnny? Greg?”
“In here, Bruce,” Greg called back.
Aiming for the living room, Bruce found them on the floor, Johnny curled up over Greg’s lap. He winced, anticipating the effort it would take to put Johnny back to rights, with the other man having been in that position for who knew how long. Crouching beside Greg, who was looking somewhat worse for wear, Bruce rubbed the slave’s back and asked, “How long?”
“I gave him two pills about an hour ago. I knew I couldn’t move him on my own, so I thought I should just leave him here. That was wrong, wasn’t it?” Greg asked anxiously.
Bruce shook his head and continued to rub Greg’s back, feeling the slight man relax slowly under his touch. The poor slave had been through a lot and needed some assurance of his own. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if Bruce flew off the handle. “Not if you would’ve dropped him halfway there. Better to wait for help. You did good getting him to take the meds, Greggie, exactly what you should have done. All right, let’s get Prince Charming to bed.”
Carefully sliding his arms between Johnny and Greg, Bruce tugged the unconscious man up against his chest. He shifted his hold a little, then stood, grunting under the weight. Johnny was no featherweight even when he was awake to help; as deadweight, the man was really damn heavy.
“My legs are asleep,” Greg announced, surprised.
Looking down at him, Bruce grinned and replied, “Well, when they wake up, join us upstairs, okay?”
Greg nodded, echoing the grin with a shy smile of his own, and Bruce headed for the stairs. He took them slow, not wanting a misstep to send them both tumbling. By the time he reached Johnny’s bedroom, he was sweating with the effort. Setting the other man on the bed, Bruce took a few minutes to catch his breath, then started stripping Johnny. He moved swiftly, taking off the t-shirt and jeans, but he left the boxers on, not trusting himself that far.
As it was, his massage was more caress than medicinal when it started out, a visual treat to see his dark hands roaming over Johnny’s pale skin. He shook himself out of it fast enough, scolding himself for the temptation not resisted, and then started working in earnest. Even unconscious, Johnny’s body was tense and out of whack. He’d been working with this body for years and knew every piece of it.
“Bruce?”
Looking over at Greg’s hesitant call of his name, Bruce found the other man standing in the doorway. “Come on in, Greg. Not much to see, but have a seat. How’re the legs?”
Greg climbed onto the large bed and knelt on the other side of Johnny. “Fine.”
“How about you?”
“Me? I’m fine,” Greg answered, surprised.
“Not like you’ve had a normal day either, Greg,” Bruce pointed out.
Greg sighed. “I just wish that people would stop bothering him. Why can’t they see that his destiny to Greatness isn’t something that can be controlled?”
Half-smiling, Bruce answered, “Because people are idiots, especially where religion and oracles are involved. But don’t worry. I’ve got things taken care of.”
“But, how?”
“Never mind how. Let’s just say I’ve got some clout with a different kind of Church than Faith Heritage and leave it at that,” Bruce said, thinking about his mother.
She’d been more than shocked to hear from him the month before, but thrilled. Bruce knew that she’d back his protection of Johnny, even though she wasn’t all that thrilled that he’d settled on someone outside the local church for a lifemate. She loved him and, once they met, would love Johnny. Greg, she would just adore and try to feed to death, most likely.
“Bruce?”
Stopping the massage at the weak call of his name, Bruce met Johnny’s bleary gaze and smiled. “Well there you are. Welcome back, John.”
Johnny cleared his throat. “What happened?”
“You took another header in the living room. I swear I’m going to get some kind of cushioned carpeting in there. How’re you feeling?”
After thinking about it for a minute, Johnny answered, “Better, thanks.”
“On the scale?”
“About a six.”
“Good. That’s doable,” Bruce said. “Now that you’ve woken up, it’s time for you to get back to sleep.”
Heat flushed through Johnny’s face as he asked, “Would you…ah…would you stay?”
“Sure thing,” Bruce agreed.
“I’ll just leave you two…”
Before Greg could escape, the miserable expression on his face clearly painting his heartache, Bruce grabbed his hand and ordered, “Help me get Johnny under the covers, and then get under yourself.”
Startled, Greg replied, “But, but you and…”
“I want you here, too, Greggie,” Johnny assured him, putting his hand over Bruce’s.
The happiness that flashed over Greg’s face nearly took Bruce’s breath away. Without thinking, he leaned over and kissed the smiling mouth, taking it with passion. Greg gasped, opening his mouth instinctively, and Bruce pushed his tongue inside. When he broke off the kiss, Greg just stared at him, dumbfounded.
Johnny, on the other hand, muttered, “Damn. And here I am, too out of it to enjoy that.”
Bruce grinned and turned the tables, kissing the injured man with equal passion, but more need. Johnny groaned into the kiss, his mouth opening, and their tongues met in a wet dance. Pulling back, Bruce took a moment to get himself under control, then said, “Okay. Under the covers. Time to sleep.”
“After that?” Johnny demanded incredulously.
Chuckling, Bruce nodded and between him and Greg, got Johnny under the blankets. He then undressed and slid under the covers, spooning up behind his friend and soon-to-be lover. Greg curled up around Johnny from the front and Bruce rested his hand on the slave’s side. Sighing in contentment, ignoring the throbbing in his dk, Bruce nuzzled the back of Johnny’s neck and said, “Sleep tight, John, and don’t worry. I’ve got everything taken care of.”
Johnny sighed deeply as well, and in a few minutes, succumbed to the drugs, again falling asleep.
Meeting Greg’s gaze, Bruce whispered, “You’re going to have to help him, Greg. He doesn’t really know what’s involved.”
Greg smiled and ran his fingers over Bruce’s face. “I know. And I will. He loves you, you know.”
Surprised, but very pleased, Bruce just shook his head and laced their fingers together. Between the two of them, Johnny Smith was going to be one well looked after man.
Whether he wanted to be, or not.
* * * *
Johnny woke in a warm and comfortable cocoon of tangled limbs and moist breath on his back and throat. Stretching without moving much at all, Johnny yawned and reveled in the fact that the pain had receded to a dull throb that was only slightly more than it usually was. From behind, Bruce was spooned up against him, a leg pushed between Johnny’s and his arm holding around Johnny’s waist. Greg was curled up to Johnny’s front, wrapped in Johnny’s arms. Feeling semi-hard cocks to either side of him was more than a little arousing and his own woke up the rest of the way.
The sun was starting to stream in through the windows when Bruce woke and kissed the back of his neck. Johnny shivered and turned his head to receiving a deep, intimate kiss that caused him to groan with need. Bruce owned his mouth almost casually, delving into it with his tongue and tracing over his teeth and the roof of his mouth. Greg surprised him by sucking on his nipples, provoking a gasp of excitement to escape.
Strong hands caressed him all over, rubbing and massaging his back, ass, chest and hips until Johnny didn’t know which way was up. He shuddered when Bruce rocked against him, the hard length riding in the cleft of his ass. “God! Bruce, please!”
A warm chuckle was his answer and hands tugged at his boxers, pulling them down. Dazed, Johnny just moved where he was silently instructed, eager to be filled with his lover. And then, unexpectedly, Greg was beneath him, legs splaying apart as the slave urged, “Take me, Master.”
This is the vision, Johnny realized, shuddering again in anticipation.
Bruce’s hand stroked Johnny’s cock, rubbing it with oil and then slid under to roll his balls. Johnny jerked into the grip, moaning with need. Right in his ear, Bruce ordered, “Take him, Johnny. Fuck him while I Claim you, lover. You both belong to me now, Angel, and you’re never going to have to worry about anything else.”
Bruce lined Johnny’s cock up to Greg’s opening and his other hand moved Johnny forward, silently ordering him to push inside, which he did. Greg’s body welcomed him, gripping him tightly as Johnny’s cock moved until he was buried deep inside. Panting, Johnny struggled for control, feeling close to the edge of orgasm, despite the fact that they’d really only just started.
“Spread your legs, Angel, let me in,” Bruce murmured, sucking on Johnny’s earlobe.
Johnny did so a bit awkwardly, finding his balance inside and over Greg with his hands to either side of the slave. He bit his lip as Bruce entered him, breaching the tight ring of muscle that had never before been breached. It was uncomfortable and then downright painful as he was taken dry for the Claiming. Greg’s hands moved over him and his ass clenched around Johnny’s cock, trying to distract him. Hissing in pain, Johnny gasped, “I don’t think I can do this, Bruce!”
“Ssh, it’s okay, Angel, almost there,” Bruce soothed, still moving forward.
And then he was all the way in and Johnny was frozen in place, wedged between the two bodies, looking down at Greg’s loving expression, laced with understanding. “Lay down on me, Master, take your ease on my body.”
Bruce helped settle him down flat on Greg and, though Johnny worried a little that they would crush the smaller man, Greg only sighed in apparent contentment. Then Bruce started moving and Johnny had other things occupying his attention, the pain upping a notch as the thick cock loosened him by force. He grunted with the force of it, but couldn’t deny the need for more coiling inside his gut. “Harder! Bruce, oh God, harder!”
“Fuck! Angel, you’re so perfect, so good,” Bruce groaned, doing just that.
The force and speed increased and when Bruce slammed into him, Johnny hitched deeper into Greg. Abruptly realizing that Greg was being left out despite that, Johnny shifted so he could reach Greg’s mouth and took it in a deep, sucking kiss. Greg moaned in pleasure, his legs pulling up to wrap around them both.
And then it overwhelmed him and he howled with his release, coming inside Greg and feeling the trapped cock between them spurt its own fluids. Bruce humped into him rapidly, panting and grunting, and then came in Johnny, who shuddered in added pleasure as he was filled. He was only allowed to lie on Greg like that for a few more seconds before Bruce tugged them both onto their sides.
Johnny lost the connection to Greg during the move, but Bruce remained lodged deep inside him, causing him to squirm in a combination of discomfort and pleasure. Greg again curled up to his front, hitching a leg over Johnny and Bruce’s legs as he yawned. Johnny wound his arms about his slave and smiled, kissing Greg’s damp forehead as the slave fell asleep against him.
When Bruce twined his arm around Johnny, he said, “I meant what I said, John.”
“What’s that?” Johnny asked, sleep tugging insistently at him.
Bruce nibbled on his throat and answered, “You’re both mine now and I won’t let anything happen to you that you don’t want to happen. Purdy’s not your concern anymore, Angel, I’ve got him wrapped up. Believe me.”
After thinking about it for a long moment, Johnny sighed in deep contentment and murmured, “I believe you.”
Sleep followed directly thereafter.
* * * *
Bruce smirked as Johnny limped around the kitchen for an entirely different reason than his leg. While you couldn’t technically Claim a freeman, they all knew what had happened that morning and Bruce could see the difference in Johnny’s very body language. The other man was relaxed and happy, even as he grumped and complained while helping Greg make breakfast.
The doorbell rang, interrupting them, but Bruce only said, “Keep getting the food ready, I’m starved and this won’t take long.”
Johnny looked like he was going to protest, but then seemed to remember the words that had passed between them and didn’t. Instead he smiled and said, “Thanks, Bruce.”
“Anytime, Angel,” Bruce assured him.
Greg snickered at the nickname and Johnny shoved him rudely, complaining about ill-mannered slaves in a very lenient tone of voice.
Chuckling to himself, Bruce headed for the front door where he knew Purdy would be waiting. To his surprise, it was Purdy and Sarah Bannerman camped on the front porch. Smiling pleasantly, he asked, “Something I can do for the two of you?”
Not returning the smile, Purdy snapped, “It’s common courtesy to announce yourself when you’re a man of some influence, Bruce.”
Bruce shrugged. “My family name has influence, but I’m just a physical therapist.”
“One who has taken up residence in the house of the man who is like a son to me!” Purdy thundered. “How dare you…”
“Don’t try it!” Bruce interrupted sharply. “Don’t even try to make like you have Johnny’s best interests at heart, Reverend. So I stopped you from being able to control something you couldn’t control anyhow. Big deal. Johnny isn’t part of your agenda, Reverend, and best you remember that.”
“I suppose he’s on your agenda,” Sarah stated thinly.
Nodding, Bruce confirmed easily, “Johnny and Greg are both under my protection and they both belong to me now. Get used to it.”
Purdy burst out, “Johnny’s not a slave!”
“I didn’t say he was,” Bruce replied, returning the indignant glare with a calm stare of his own.
There wasn’t anything either could say to that, and they knew it. Silence reigned for a long minute, then Purdy stated, “Watch your back, Bruce. You can be assured that I will be looking for any way to wrest him from you.”
Bruce nodded again, having expected that, but didn’t rise to the bait. He watched until they’d returned to the towne car and it started down the driveway. Sighing, Bruce closed the door and headed back to the kitchen.
Johnny and Greg were making out by the sink and Bruce took a few seconds to watch the tender exchange, a smile spreading across his face. This was his family now and it was a lot more than he’d expected to find, when something had prompted him to move halfway across the country to Maine. He recognized Divine intervention when it acted, even if he didn’t really know to whom he should assign his thanks.
Smiling, he joined them at the sink and slid an arm around each. He nuzzled first at Johnny’s throat and then Greg’s and said, “Got a lot to do today.”
Johnny was hesitant as he asked, “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s great, Angel,” Bruce assured him.
Accepting that with a relieved sigh, Johnny kissed him briefly and headed towards the stove, Greg at his side. Bruce walked over to the table and sat down to enjoy his lovers’ company at what looked like a celebration feast, they’d prepared so much food.
Which is only appropriate, he decided, considering everything we have to be thankful for.
Greg met his gaze and asked, “Are you happy, Master?”
“Extremely,” Bruce stated honestly. “Let’s eat.”
Laughing, Johnny and Greg took their seats, one to either side of him, where they belonged.