Drawing Closer by Jane Davitt

Author:Jane Davitt [Davitt, Jane]
Language: nld
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

It was too easy to forget around Carl. Gray froze, half in, half out of his clean jeans, his bare ass

on display, held in place by the angry hiss of Carl's breath.

"What the fuck?"

Settling his T-shirt in place, and kicking the paint-spattered jeans aside, Gray turned and met

Carl's gaze. "Don't."

"Don't what? Don't comment on those marks on your ass? Yeah, let's think about how much

that's never gonna happen."

Gray reached for a paintbrush, twirling it between his fingers, trying to focus on the way the

bristles overlapped. Might be cool to paint them from memory, using the brush itself, detailed

enough that they wouldn't look like anything at first, the subtle stains of old paint glowing –

"Hey!" Carl's fist drove into his shoulder, jolting him out of his introspection. "Don't do that.

Don't shut me out."

Rubbing slowly at his shoulder, Gray gave him a pointed look. "I asked for the marks; that bruise

you just put on me, I could've done without. I paint with that arm, you know."

"Asked for them?" Carl's mouth thinned. "Oh, yeah, I can just see that."

Gray didn't answer him.

"He comes near you again, and I'm going to rip his fucking arms off."

"How old are you? Twelve?" Gray shook his head. "We're... playing, that's all."

“Playing? Do you know how many bruises you've got?"

Yes. Charles had counted them, pressing cool fingers against each one, counting slowly as Gray

writhed under him, speared on Charles' cock.

"They'll fade."

Drawing Closer - 82

"Oh, yeah, they will. And what then?"

He'd beg Charles to put some more on him.

"Carl -- I -- look, this is none of your business."

"Yes, it--"

" No." Gray spoke over Carl's words, knowing what they'd be. Hell, he could predict Carl's response to just about any situation, he knew him so well. "This is my sex life, Carl. Mine."

"And his."

There was a pause and then Gray nodded. "And his, yes."

"In fact," Carl went on, "it's all his, right? His fucked-up kinky shit and you're going along with it because you're fixated on him, just like you were with that girl with the hair down to her ass who

wouldn't even speak to you."

"No. It's not like that."

"Yeah? Then how come you've never done this before? With anyone? And don't tell me you

have, because I'd have known."

"Because I didn't know! Until I met him, I just -- I never -- fuck, Carl, this is just so not what I want to be discussing with you, okay? Back off."

"Maybe I should be discussing it, then." Carl's mouth was thin, tight. "With the Dean. With the police."

Gray reacted without thought, lashing out with his hand and feeling the painful jar of bone as his

knuckles split on Carl's teeth. " Fuck--"

"You--" Carl swiped blood and spit from his lips and lunged at him.

They struggled, swaying back and forth for a minute, no more, spitting insults at each other,

snarling out threats, hands and feet dealing out blows and kicks. Gray didn't feel any of them,

although Carl didn't seem to be holding back at all. Terror and rage were insulating him from the

pain and giving him strength.

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