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Micah slumped disconsolately in the booth at the local Starbucks. He slowly sniffed his drink, and almost, just almost, managed a smile. Most men went to a bar to drown their frustrations and angers; with their hummingbird fast metabolism, lot good that did a lycanthrope. Hell, he’d been turned as a teen, so he’d never even developed a taste for alcohol. No, his solace was an overpriced cup of coffee with a pretentious name like Caramel Macchiato and a fresh, oven hot chocolate chip muffin.
He broke a piece of the prized muffin top off, and popped it into his mouth, relishing the sweetness and warmth. He should have been enjoying a better meal than this. But no, fate spit on him once again. And rather cruelly this time, too, since the evening had started out so promising. A slow night at the Coalition had prompted his decision to leave a few hours early, albeit with express instructions to the remaining two staff members to phone him immediately if any crisis cropped up. He hadn’t even bothered to call home to Anita; it was hours before her first zombie raising, and he’d opted to surprise her and Nathaniel with a real, sit down, family type dinner. Sure, it would have been take out since neither he nor Anita were known for their culinary skills, and Nat hardly had the time to whip up a grand meal, but the sentiment could have been there. The cozy affection of companionship with people you loved and the comfort of a full belly.
But NOOO, he thought savagely as he decapitated the remainder of his treat. That had been too much to expect out of life. Getting your throat torn out at an early age and becoming a wereleopard? Check. Crazy panwere leader beating your face bloody every other day? Check. Sharing the woman you loved with what seemed like half the population of St. Louis? Check. One lousy family type meal at home? Hell no; that’s just crazy! He grimaced as he shook the offending crumbs out of his clenched fist. He really should have known better, in retrospect. Nothing had gone easy, or been normal, in his life since the time he’d been turned. Oh, he’d surprised his Nimir-Ra and subordinate pard member, all right. Surprised them right in the middle of a heated, age old disagreement. Nathaniel’s need for discipline, for a top, versus Anita’s inability to understand his desires and her own borderline revulsion for the practice.
He took a sip of his drink, the decadent sweetness soothing on his tongue, and rewound the evening until he replayed the shouts in his head. Neither of them had even noticed his presence, they were so intent are saying what they had to say, and not listening to what the other was trying to relay.
Nathaniel had been adamant, his hands laid lightly on his Nimir-Ra’s shoulders. “Anita, please, just try. Something easy. Light bondage. Nipple clips. Waxing. I don’t expect you to hurt me much the first time.”
Equally insistent, Anita had angrily shrugged off his touch. “Nathaniel, no. We’re a triumvirate, and I will always cherish the relationship we’ve built, but for the last time, I won’t do that to you. Ever.” She punctuated her ending words with emphatic shakes of her hand.
“Understand it, accept it, and move on already.”
Nat had thrown his hands wide at that bitterly spoken ultimatum. “But you won’t even consider it. All you want is for me to be something I’m not. You won’t even think about just trying.” He had dropped his arms limply at his sides after that tirade, spent and panting.
Nat’s voice had lowered then, adopting a pleading tone. “ Please Anita. For me.”
Anita turned abruptly at his words, angered that he continued to try to manipulate her emotions to get what he wanted. “Damn it, Nathaniel, you’re an adult. Stop pressing me! I’m not denying your desires. You have other, safe, outlets to go to. The truth is, you don’t need me to do that, and you’re showing your lack of respect for my feelings by continually pushing this issue. I’m sick of it, Nathaniel. And I mean it. Not another word.”
Micah was stunned to see the young wereleopard take a breath to continue. He’d been silent through the private argument, but Nathaniel’s continued affront was inexcusable. Shocked and angered, his alpha leopard became infuriated by the lack of submission and acquiescence an inferior leopard was showing to his queen. He strode into the living room from the foyer and hissed angrily, “Nathaniel, enough! Anita has had the final say, so it’s end of story.”
Nathaniel had flinched at his entrance, flabbergasted and a little peeved that he hadn’t noticed his presence before. Micah waved off his submissive greeting, and began the lecture that had been brewing in his throat the moment he’d understood what the disagreement had been about.
He went to Anita and ran a soothing hand across the back of her neck, his leopard eyes sparking as he addressed his recalcitrant pardmember. “Frankly, I don’t get this need you have either, but if you must, I know there are others in the pack and pard who are willing to satisfy your wishes. Seek it elsewhere and stop causing hurt to your Nimir-ra.”
Nathaniel showed shocked, betrayed eyes to them both. “You don’t understand me because you don’t want to understand me. If you’d just let me show you…”
He couldn’t believe it. Now the saucy little cat was arguing with him. He allowed the power to lash out, and with no small amount of satisfaction watched the young stripper buckle slightly at the knees at the rebuke. “Nathaniel! Go to work, now! And never repeat a word of this to either of us again. Am I clear?”
Tears shining, Nat hadn’t bothered to answer, letting his actions speak for him as he angrily swiped his keys from the communal hook and stormed out to his car. A door slam, the squeal of tires, and he was gone. Thankfully, Nat was still too raw in his driving skills to use his car as a complete temper release, and they had both let out relieved breaths as the only sound that followed was a safe, speed limit respected departure. Nat may have liked to walk on the wild side, but he certainly had little inclination to drive there.
He turned then, to nuzzle Anita’s cheek and offer comfort.
Only to meet empty air and a cold black stare. “Do you see what you’ve done by interfering? I was handling it! Why aren’t you at work, anyway?”
Staggered, he’d only had the wherewithal to shake his head and beat a hasty exit the way he’d come.
Straight to his own little version of Cheers.
The hyper-caffeinated little Tigger behind the counter had taken one look at his pinched face and just held up a hand. “Don’t even bother. I know exactly what you want.”
God bless exemplary customer service.
So here he sat, tired, ill used, hungry and cranky. Two more adjectives and he’d have his own pissed off version of the seven dwarfs. But heaven awaited him, and eyes closed, he was ready to go there one small sugary sip at a time. He drew in some of the hot liquid, reveling in the caramel overtones, prepared to try to forget the night ever happened when a familiar, accusing voice tugged as his hearing.
“Maybe if you felt what I do, you’d understand better, Nimir-raj.”
He sighed. Nathaniel. Just fantastic. Other dysfunctional families had hopes of the kids growing up and moving on. Nope; not him. They already were grown up, and here for the decided duration.
He calmly set his mug back down on the table and opened his eyes.
“I won’t allow myself to go through something like that, Nathaniel. Don’t even bother to try to talk me into it.” He’d surprised himself. His voice came out almost serene; conversational in fact. A far cry from the volcanic temperature he was feeling inside.
Undaunted, Nathaniel slipped into the booth next to him. “I’m not trying, Micah, I’m telling you.” He suddenly felt a hand at his crotch, as Nat unzipped his jeans and fisted his cock. Now there’s a good argument against going commando, he thought inanely as he instinctively cocked a fist back to strike.
Nathaniel smiled at him sweetly, and whispered reasonably, “I wouldn’t. Think about it, Nimir-raj. You do that, and everyone in here will know what we we’re up to.” He began an excruciatingly slow glide along his flaccid cock, and was rewarded with the first stirrings of interest. “Now me, I don’t care. I’ve been getting picked up for public lewdness and prostitution since I was thirteen, for too many times in my past to worry about something as simple as this now. But you?” He leaned in closer, picking up the forgotten mug and taking a sip before continuing calmly.
“Can your reputation live this down, Micah? Can you?”
Micah schooled his face to as bland an expression a man could have, sitting in a public place while another man jerked you off. He glanced around, and was utterly shocked to realize no one noticed, or even gave a second glance to the two young men apparently deep in conversation in a back booth.
Nathaniel laughed as he read the look of surprise in Micah’s eyes. “No one sees us. People are too wrapped up in their own concerns to give a damn about what we’re doing.”
Micah drew in a shaky breath as Nat began rubbing a bead of pre-cum over the head of his penis. He licked a dry tongue over equally dry lips, and somehow managed a controlled, “What is it exactly we’re doing here, Nathaniel?
Nathaniel laughed, and put the cup back on the table. “How the hell do you drink that crap? That’s not real coffee; that’s a sundae or something!’
Micah growled a warning, “Nathaniel.”
Nathaniel flinched slightly, and grinned. “Sorry. What we’re doing here, Nimir-raj, is a small scene. Just a little one, with me topping you, so you get to experience and hopefully understand what it is to be a bottom. What it is I want from Anita. And you..”
Micah looked at him, confused, and Nathaniel paused in his ministrations. “What does this have to do with your kink, Nat? I don’t get it.”
Nathaniel’s hand clenched tighter on Micah’s penis, and he winced and sat up straighter in response. “It has to do with control, and obedience, and who’s in change. It isn’t all about beatings and chains. It’s about submission.”
Nat loosened his hold slightly and began a light, rhythmic stroking, his voice becoming commanding.
“Your safe word is tortoise. If things get too much for you to take, you’ll use the safe word to tell me to stop.”
Well, this is going to be easy, Micah thought.
“Tortoise.”
Nathaniel smirked and shook his head. “Not so fast, Callahan. That’s just a cop out, and you know it. And for the record, I’ve had my fill of cop outs this lifetime. If it’s used too soon, like that, I’m just going to ignore it. Hell, you haven’t even heard the rules of the game yet,” he admonished, giving Micah growing erection a vicious twist.
Micah bit back a yelp and shot a venomous look at his wayward wereleopard. So help me, Graison, you are going to wish this cockamamie little scheme had never entered your head when we get out of here. He suppressed the urge to partial shift his claws and begin tearing, and answered contritely, “My apologies. Would you mind explaining what the hell it is I’m supposed to do here?”
Nathaniel nodded in satisfaction, and resumed running his thumb along the underside of Micah’s erection. “You’re going to sip your coffee, eat your muffin, and pretend absolutely nothing is going on while I bring you to orgasm. Oh, and it’s my choice how, and when. You can’t come until I say, or I’ll push this table back and let everyone here know exactly what’s been going on.”
Shit. Nathaniel was playing dirty. “I don’t understand how…”
“Please be quiet, Micah,” Nat shushed, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “I’m not finished. You argue, I expose. You make any noises, and moans, without my permission, I expose. You come without my permission, I expose. Oh, and the real game? I’m going to do everything within my power to make you break and do anyone of those things, because it pleases me to do so. Are you strong enough to hold out for me, Micah? Or have I underestimated you.”
Micah shivered, the situation and stimulation beginning to fog his brain. “But in any case, I lose, Nathaniel. It’s going to be kind of hard to hide the aftereffects, you know? I’ll be exposed, no matter what choice I make here.”
Nat shook his head. “Take a sip of coffee. Now, Micah.” He waited until Micah, his hand shaking only slightly, complied. “If you obey me, and don’t come until I say, then you’ll have nothing to worry about. Because, right before I give permission,” he lowered his voice seductively to a timbre only a were could hear, “I’m going to conveniently drop something under the table and suck you off.”
“Jesus.”
“Scene started,” Nathaniel breathed. And began to manipulate Micah’s cock in earnest. “You must be hungry, Micah. Eat your muffin.”
Shaking, Micah began to methodically break pieces off and bring them to his mouth. It was inhuman, fighting back the groans of delight that wanted to escape his throat at the same time he attempted to choke down a dry pastry with absolutely no saliva in his mouth.
He was angry, slightly frightened, and he was ashamed to admit, incredibly aroused.
Nathaniel noticed the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and asked nonchalantly, “Are you going to break on me already, Micah? We’ve only just started.” He used his free hand to wiggle a tube out of his front jean pocket.
He pulled the top off with his teeth and quickly squirted some into his business hand. “Just a little lube for you, Micah. Wouldn’t want friction burns,” he grinned as he recapped the tube and returned it to his pocket.
“Fuck!” Micah breathed, as the oil allowed Nathaniel to fist him even faster.
He was teetering on the edge of his control, and he knew it. The secrecy, the lack of control, and the sheer pleasure coursing through is body was overwhelming.
It was no use. Pride be damned, he was ready to resort to begging.
“Nathaniel, please....” he choked out, trying to remember the word he’d given him to end this.
“Shush, Micah,” Nathaniel soothed, and began a long steady pulling motion had Micah leaning back in the booth and hissing. “Take three more sips of coffee, slowly. And I’ll think about it.”
He needed two hands to carry out Nat’s instructions, but somehow he managed to lift the cup, bring it to his lips, and take three small, slow sips.
He’d never be able to look at a Caramel Macchiato the same way again.
“Good boy, Micah. I know you’re close, and I know you’re at the edge, so if you want me to stop, just say the word and I’ll do it. Otherwise, I’m dropping my cell phone under the table, and finishing you by mouth. As soon as you feel it, you have permission to come.” He looked into Micah’s flushed face and smiled triumphantly, knowing the answer he was about to get.
“What do you want, Micah? The vanilla way or all the way?”
Micah bit his lip. “Finish this, Nathaniel!”
Nathaniel shook his head. “Not very submissive, Micah. Remember whose in charge here. Care to be more polite?”
Practically grinding his teeth, Micah managed pleasantly, “Finish this. Please.”
“Since you begged so sweetly, Nimir-Raj,” Nathaniel cooed as he slid, boneless, under the table and sucked, hard, on Micah’s engorged shaft.
‘Sweet permission’ Micah shuddered as he felt the overheated wetness envelope his poor cock. His orgasm rocked him, but he somehow managed to remain quiet as Nathaniel effortlessly drank down his seed, then licked him clean with quick, light swipes of his agile tongue.
Seconds later, like an x-rated Jack–in-the-box, Nathaniel popped up in front of him, a self-satisfied smile turning the corners of his lips up slightly.
“You might want to tuck that away, Micah.”
His eyes narrowing, Micah slowly reached under the table and refastened his jeans.
“You know there’s going to be repercussions from this, don’t you, Nathaniel? I didn’t deserve that, no matter how much I enjoyed it.”
Nathaniel winced at the betrayal in the man’s voice, and dropped his eyes. “I know,” he answered quietly. “But do you understand better now, Nimir-Raj? What I feel and need? The control, the pain, it makes me feel,” Nathaniel furrowed his brow, trying desperately to explain the depth of his cravings. He finally settled on the words. “Calm. It makes me feel calm, and pleasured, and...loved.”
Micah’s anger faded slightly at the boys words, and he sighed in response. Nothing changed, they were back to the same argument. A thought occurred to him, and he tapped the table to get Nat’s full attention. “I do understand, a little better anyway, Nathaniel. But explain something to me. You say you don’t want us to change or deny what you feel.” He waited until Nathaniel nodded in agreement. “Well, what about Anita and me? Isn’t the manipulating and arguing just that? Trying to make us be something we’re not?” He reached forward and cupped the young man’s chin, forcing his head upwards so that he would meet his eyes honestly. “Isn’t that exactly what you just coerced me to do?”
Tears sprang into Nathaniel’s eyes as they widened in horror as the full implication of what he had forced on his friend hit him. “Micah, forgive me,” he whispered abjectly, disgust written across his normally amiable features. “I didn’t think…I didn’t mean to…” he stammered helplessly as he realized nothing he could say would change what he had just done.
Micah shook his head kindly, or at least as kindly as he could manage under the circumstances. “It’s OK, Nat, I won’t hold it against you. Hell, something as simple as this, yes, I would have indulged you in. So, I think, would Anita, if you’d just shut up long enough to give me a chance to talk to her. But it isn’t what you really want, is it, little cat? Be truthful. Tell me exactly what you expect Anita to do to you.”
Nathaniel ran shaking hands across his scalp, and closed his eyes. “I want her to be my mistress. To do everything that Gabriel would give to me. The chains, the whippings, the denials and sex….” he laid his head abjectly on the table, hiding his face from his king. None of what he wanted was possible. None of it. He was a fool to try to persist, and he’d be lucky if the intimacy and love Anita and Micah had given in was allowed to continue.
Micah leaned back and spoke quietly. “Were you that much happier under his and Raina’s thumb, Nathaniel?”
Nathaniel didn’t make a sound. He just shook his head adamantly no.
Micah persisted. “So you enjoy your life now? The love, the warmth, the happiness of a close pard and family life?”
Nathaniel raised his head finally, his glistening lavender eyes staring earnestly into Micah’s. “I’ve never had it as good Micah. Never been happier. You, Anita, the vampires….it’s as though God’s given me my niche.”
“So it’s only this one thing then. Something no one denies you having; it’s just something you cannot have from the people you want.” Micah allowed his voice to become harsh. “So, who is to blame here Nathaniel? You for trying to make us into Stepford Tops, or us for being true to ourselves and our natures?”
“I’m sorry, Micah. I know it’s not enough, but I don’t know what else to say. I’m just so very…sorry.”
“I said it’s all right. Hell, I’m not about to go running about telling everyone about this, and neither are you, for the obvious reason of Anita blowing her stack. So, we’ll just keep it between ourselves, you accept us for what we can give you, and we’ll accept your little forays into BDSM with a smile…” he paused and laughed a little at that sentiment. “Ok, maybe not a smile, but certainly with an understanding.” Nathaniel nodded gratefully, chagrined at his lack of empathy for the people he loved the most. Micah gathered up his cold cup and half eaten muffin, and slid out of the booth.
“So we’re good here?” he asked as he motioned Nathaniel out.
Nathaniel smiled. A little weak and uncertain, but an honest smile nonetheless. “We’re good, Nimir-raj.” His smile grew slightly bolder, almost impish. “Unless I’m to be punished for being so…bad.” Nathaniel dropped his head coyly, more to hide his full blown teasing smile then to satisfy any innate submissive impulse.
“You’re pushing me, little man. Definitely pushing me. Go pay Asher a booty call.”
The End