(no subject)
I'm a little amazed right now, because... I wrote. And not just "wrote", but... wrote.
I know I've been a right-shit, not having updated ANY of my WIPs in so, so long, especially since I stupidly took on so damned many in the last few years. You probably barely friggin' remember half of them, and wouldn't blame you if you said, "Pah, I have no faith in this ingrate!" But, in case I haven't completely annihilated the C/Z fandom's faith in me, I'd love to share? :)
In all serious, honest-of-honesty, I've been going through a super-heavy, terrible struggle when it comes to writing. I've gotten some story-work done, like my Torrin!fic and other quickies, but when it comes to the real MEAT of what I write, HOW I write and WHY I write, I've hit one of the biggest, most frustrating blocks I've ever encountered. It got to a point a few days ago, when I'd once again opened one of my WIP docs to try and 'recapture' and failed at getting anything done in it, where I'd actually cried and ranted about how horrible it felt, not being able to write what I so truly love. I've been in a world of doubt as to just what I'm able to do, IF I'm able to do it; if giving-up on fandom is an option when deep in my heart of hearts is most definitely not. But at this very moment, having gotten through a tough bit where I just didn't know what the FUCK to do, I feel like a floodgate or two's opened up, and shit's come a bit more clearer. I don't want to be too optimistic. But still.
I have to thank a certain someone dearly for THIS bout of creativity... this isn't your official birthday gift, verangel, but since you'd helped me through and inspired what was YOUR STORY to BEGIN with, I can only sit here and mourn the fact that you're not here, right in front of me, to glomp, hug, squish, squash, squishle, squashle, and other some-such grabby-vernacular. So much love, all for you. :D
So, here we go!
Banner by aliensouldream
Title: Ezekiel's Way--14
Pairing/Characters: C/"E", OMCs, Mr. and Mrs. Connor
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU period-piece, circa 1905
Author's Note: For my sweetheart, verangel, a lovely friend and confidant. :)
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Casey fights to help Ezekiel acclimate to his 'new world'.
Previous Parts
“Good news, lads!” Herbert, in his usual carnival-barker fashion, announced as he returned to the parlor. “I just called the hospital Ms. Bobbin had been taken to; the combination of Ezekiel's heroism and her whalebone corset saved her life!”
All four boys sighed with relief and sank into their seats further. Casey finished off his coffee and asked, “How badly was she hurt, however?”
“Mmm, well, she won't be going home anytime soon. Her hip is broken, there was some bleeding on the inside, and some damage was done to her spine. But they've managed to get it under control. They aren't sure if she will walk again, but...” Herbert shrugged and clapped his hands together. “...She's alive, at any rate.”
“What of her father, and the driver?” Carsten asked.
“A good concussion and minor fractures for both, but fine. Oh, this story... an exclusive, to boot! Thank goodness for our new telegram system,” Herbert said with barely-concealed joy. He began collecting his things quickly. “I must be off, get this story to the presses!”
“That's fine,” Casey said. Herbert had been a whirlwind of excitement; nice enough, but they'd grown tired of him within minutes.
“Thank you so much for letting me get the story, lads. And you, Ezekiel...” Herbert went over to the boy and clapped his shoulder. “A right hero. You thought you had attention and adoration before? Hah! Just you wait!”
'Wonderful,' Casey thought with dread. Even if Ezekiel had earned the praise and exultation, it'd been overwhelming enough already. Ezekiel made a small smile and nodded.
“Thank you,” he said.
Herbert made his leave, promising to make the article full of glowing reports 'of epic proportions'. Once he was gone, all four of them groaned and sank even further into the couch and chair cushions. “That was...” Carsten said, but was cut off by a loud knock at the door. “What, did he forget some--”
“Gregory Millfred, with the Mirror Weekly!” came the call through the cracked-open window.
“Oh, seriously?” Casey said with malice. “THAT hack?”
“The miserable cuss from the party? Oh yes, let's open the door, shall we?” Carsten stated sarcastically. More knocking arrived.
“Is anyone there?” Gregory called.
“No! Be off with you!” Carsten yelled. The others snorted in amusement.
“We'd like an interview with Master Tyler--”
Casey snarled and went to the window, opening it wide. He looked to the stoop, finding the newspaper team gathered on the porch. “You mean, the 'elaborate fraud'? He's unavailable at the moment.”
“Now, now, we're just looking to learn of the amazing story from this afternoon!” Gregory said with a wide grin plastered on his face.
“Then read tomorrow's issue of the Daily Mail for their exclusive interview.” With that, Casey slammed the window closed.
“Hah! A right fine reply, Casey-boy,” Ronald said.
“Vultures. Herbert, I can take... barely. Them?” Casey went back to the couch where Ezekiel sat. He let out a loud, tired moan as he leaned on the young man. “I'm ready to sleep for the next week or five.”
“It WAS astounding, however. I suppose one can't blame everyone for being so enthralled,” Ronald said. He turned his bright smile to Ezekiel. “Honestly, Zekie-I almost keeled over, seeing you lift that blasted carriage. Never before have I seen such a display of brute strength... and I'm a skilled wrestler!”
“A'right, they're leaving...” Carsten said after peering past the curtains at the stoop.
“Good,” Casey said.
Carsten went over to the liquor set-up and began pouring out a few glasses. “This DOES call for a toast, you know. Ronald's right.” He glanced back to Ezekiel, beaming. “You're London's top hero today.”
“I suppose,” Ezekiel said.
“Suppose nothing. Casey's got himself a mighty task now; he's going to have to carry a cricket bat around, beating your admirers away,” Carsten said, chuckling.
“I... simply picked it up. If it's something I can do, to help... why not?” Ezekiel said.
“Ah, but there's the rub-you CAN do it,” Ronald replied. He took the glass Carsten handed him and lifted it. “To Ezekiel; the strongest, bravest young man in London.”
“Hah, you take that back... in all of England,” Carsten 'corrected'.
Even if the attentions following today's near-tragic event was going to be an absolute annoyance, Casey couldn't help but smile as they clinked their glasses together and tipped them to their lips, all in the name of his lover. It was good to see Ezekiel's small but happy smile, and his not wincing in taking a tentative sip. Casey beamed up at him. “You're MY hero, first and foremost,” he said.
“Aw, what a sap,” Carsten said as Casey stole a quick kiss from Ezekiel's lips.
~*~
Once the area was clear of curious passersby, investigators and reporters, Ronald had managed to hire a cab to let Casey and Ezekiel make their quick and covert leave. Naps would definitely be taken before Carsten and Ronald would go to the hotel to enjoy the royal suite with them. “You DID say we could have some festivities there,” Carsten had said before pecking Casey's cheek with a kiss and shutting the carriage's door.
Back at the hotel, Casey was grateful for the surprising anonymity they received. News could spread fast through this city, but they'd beaten them to the punch. They were now in the safe confines of their room, Casey slamming the door with his back and staying there. “Hoo!” he let out a great huff of relief. “We made it!”
Ezekiel smiled, slipped his coat off and tossed the Harrod's bags on a chair hastily. One fell off and hit the floor, but he paid it no mind. “What a day,” he said.
“Truer words have never been spoken.” Casey smiled and moved to the desk where the phone was. He regarded it a moment then scowled. “Oh, I'll call my parents later. I need to relax.”
“I need to wash.”
Casey turned to Ezekiel, who was slipping out of his jacket. The buttons of his shirt were plucked open, Casey staring at the skin he revealed. “Yes. Yes, that's-a wonderful idea,” he said in a blank, distracted voice. It didn't go unnoticed; Ezekiel paused to stare back, then grinned.
“You will join me?” he asked.
“Yes. Oh, yes, indeed,” Casey said before practically tearing his jacket, shirt and slacks from his body. Once out of his stockings and shoes, Ezekiel grunt-chuckled and followed suit.
“Our tub is big enough, I would say,” Ezekiel said as he went to Casey and slid his hand over his bare hip. He looked down between them to Casey's hardening shaft, then brushed his hand over its length. Casey hissed and stepped to the doorway leading to the washroom, taking Ezekiel with him in an awkward walk.
“Give me those lips,” Casey demanded; as they entered the large washroom, he moved to the tub, turned the water on with a blind hand and used the other to grab the back of Ezekiel's neck and bring him down into a searing-hot, wet kiss. Ezekiel showed his growing expertise in this act by mouthing back, hungrily, encompassing Casey's mouth with his own. The humidity in the room grew, misting the mirrors and stained-glass window above the tub. Casey couldn't stop himself from shamelessly rubbing his cock against Ezekiel's thigh, his blood coursing like firewater to every extremity.
They didn't part, not even when the tub was full and they climbed in. Casey made to climb over Ezekiel's lap, but the young man knelt against the porcelain, pulled Casey's wrists above his head and pressed him against the tub and wall behind it. Open and prone to anything Ezekiel wanted, Casey moaned and opened his legs to let Ezekiel past them. “Oh...” he said in a whisper as Ezekiel danced his tongue from the corner of Casey's lips to the line of his jaw. The young man's grip at his wrists tightened as he moved lower, brushing his nose and parted lips over his shoulder. Casey jolted a little when Ezekiel reached his underarms, but when Ezekiel gave it a kiss and light bite, all anxiety at being touched there slipped away, replaced with shivering excitement.
“You want me,” Ezekiel said as he nuzzled lower to Casey's chest. His tongue darted out in quick laps against a tightening nipple.
“Fuck, yes,” Casey replied breathlessly.
“I can smell it.” Ezekiel let out a heavy sniff and took a deep, deep breath at Casey's neck. “It's all over you. Your sex.”
Casey snarled and tugged at Ezekiel's hold. Ezekiel let him go and put his hands to the wall, allowing Casey to run his hands over the firm, muscled arms surrounding him. “So strong,” he murmured. He slid his hands to Ezekiel's chest and thumbed the excited nubs upon it. “You're so strong.”
Ezekiel cocked his head to the side then dove in for more hungry kisses, as if he owned Casey's mouth. He slapped a hand down to Casey's neck and dragged it up to his jaw, holding him tight. The water around them swayed and sloshed against the tub's sides, almost leaping out in waves to the floor. Casey cared not; let the room below flood and drown the occupants below, if it came to that. He needed Ezekiel wanting more, and more, needed to reach into the water to take hold of the man's gorgeous, needy cock and start stroking. Ezekiel pushed forward and back, growling into Casey's mouth, before he pulled away.
“Fuck,” he said through his snarling lips. He grabbed Casey's hip to turn him. “I need to fuck you. Now.”
“You've earned it,” Casey said, turning fast and holding onto the porcelain edge as if for dear life. The cheeks of his ass were spread with wide, eager hands and pushed up. Casey closed his eyes and bit his lip as he felt Ezekiel's dick slide over his cleft. His hole pouted, as if trying to seek out the eventual contact. More shameless begging came through Casey's pushing back, sliding his backside over Ezekiel's groin. “P-Please, no teasing. No tea--” he said, but was cut off when he felt Ezekiel's cock find its goal. Just the tip, at first, going slow and gentle... too slow and gentle. Casey growled as he pushed back, not willing to wait. He breached his own body upon Ezekiel's, filling himself up. “Oh GOD, don't... don't t-tease...”
Ezekiel slapped a hand onto Casey's shoulder and shoved him back, hard, while holding a hip to keep them together. No more messing-around; he pushed and pulled, back and forth, the rhythm inside forceful. Casey bit his lip so hard, he tasted copper. He was Ezekiel's poppet now, his release, his toy. The floor tiles would indeed be in need of a mop, now, and neither of them seemed to care. Only a few moments more and Ezekiel was making signature grunts and growls-but before he reached completion, he suddenly exited Casey's body, turned him around again and knelt up.
Casey went light-headed as his face was brought up by the neck, while Ezekiel's other hand pumped his own cock inches from Casey's face. Widened eyes lifted to Ezekiel's, which stared down at him in dark slits. The muscle and sinew of Ezekiel's neck strained and tensed as he reached the precipice; Casey looked to the leaking, rosy head, moaned, parted his lips and held his tongue out. He swore he saw Ezekiel's eyes cross and roll back as the young, wild man moaned and spilled his seed over Casey's face. The intense heat of it made Casey flinch but he stayed, mouth opening wider to catch the milky strands escaping Ezekiel's body. He moved forward more to lap the slit, almost drowning himself in the lust of the beautiful, sinful action.
When Ezekiel was done, his body trembled and he shook his lower half back down under the water. They panted and swallowed together, until Ezekiel sniffed and latched his mouth over his own come resting on Casey's cheek. “Oh...” Casey said in a breath, enjoying the feel of Ezekiel's tongue sliding to every pearl, until he was licking Casey's lips. Before Casey could settle in and enjoy it, his world was suddenly jolted upright. He slapped his hands around Ezekiel's shoulders instinctively, making him realize that the young man had risen to a stand, taking Casey with him.
No stumbling, no slipping-Ezekiel was too strong and skilled for that, even on wet tile. Now out of the tub, the washroom entirely, Ezekiel strode them over to the bed and all but tossed Casey onto it. Casey, still sopping wet, bounced once then was stilled at the waist, both of Ezekiel's hands grabbing his hips to hold him down, crawl over Casey and take his cock in his mouth in one smooth, fluid motion. Casey's knees shook open, one foot planting itself on the bedpost to hold himself still. “Suck me-s-suck me, suck me...” he said, voice erratic and deeper than usual. Ezekiel answered his wish, of course, swallowing his shaft down deep to his throat. He slapped a hand over Casey's chest, found a nipple and tugged at it, giving it a solid pinch and twist to make Casey cry out. The mix of pleasure and brutality was more than Casey could take. He squirmed and cried into his orgasm, which hit him like a ton of bricks. Ezekiel's throat pulsed against Casey's inner thigh as he swallowed, sucking the energy clear out of Casey's body. It left Casey limp and cross-eyed, the mix of sweat and bathwater instantly cooling the moment Ezekiel left him. “G-God...” Casey said in a stammer, but before he could give his lover a pleased smile, he found himself pinned to the bed, thighs pushed up to his chest...
Again. He cried out as Ezekiel entered him again, wet bodies plastered together with the bed creaking below. Casey stared up at Ezekiel with wild wonder, the whole world jostling about. “I l-love you,” Casey choked out. Their lips locked together as Ezekiel continued on, driving his cock in and out in a steady pace. By the time Ezekiel's second climax arrived, the sun was setting, no nap taken.
~*~
“He what?”
This stunned reaction was expected. “He lifted the carriage. By himself,” Casey told his mother over the phone, who sounded like she needed smelling-salts.
“By... oh my goodness. OH my goodness...” she said. Mumbling was in the background. “Ezekiel lifted a carriage off a woman! A crash happened...” Presumably, she was answering a baffled Mr. Connor's questions.
“It's going to be in the Daily Mail tomorrow. Herbert and his one-man crew got word and rushed down, so...” Casey said.
“Wine?”
Casey looked up to find Carsten standing there, smiling and holding a glass out to him. “Thank you, yes,” he said, taking it. More mumbling came from his parents' end, until his father began speaking into the phone.
“There was an accident? You're all right, aren't you?”
“Yes, Father, no worries. It happened in the street, in front of Carsten's townhouse,” Casey replied. “We rushed out, and a woman had been trapped underneath it... four men, including myself tried lifting it, but couldn't. So Ezekiel meandered over and all but threw it aside.”
“Oh, the exaggeration,” Ronald said, chuckling.
“Not much of one!” Casey retorted.
“What attention this will bring.” Mr. Connor sighed. “But I suppose it's good attention, anyway. I'll be calling Adam when we're done to let him know, if he hasn't caught wind of it already. He'll probably include it in Monday's hearing.”
“Probably,” Casey said, smiling. Anything that convinced the courts that Ezekiel was proving himself to be a man of bravery and honor was welcome, of course. “I just thought you should know. Obviously.”
“Of course, of course. You have that hotel room until Monday, correct?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Good, good. Your mother and I will be arriving tomorrow afternoon with Seamus and Dina. They're going to take the night off together and do some wedding-shopping, along with a nice dinner,” Mr. Connor said with a chuckle. “We'll do that ourselves. Your mother is excited for it.”
“That sounds good,” Casey replied. “We'll be ready.”
“Good. We'll call in the morning.”
They closed the call off with a goodbye and “good luck,” on both sides; Casey hung up the phone and wandered to the others sitting in the parlor. “Glad THAT'S done,” Casey said, sitting down and taking his first sip of the aromatic red Carsten had picked up on the way here. “Ooh, that's delicious.”
“It'd better be, with the coin I put down for it,” Carsten said with a wink.
“Really, you didn't have to.”
“Ah... it's a time to celebrate. Just so you know, my parents were all a'twitter, finding out what had happened. They're simply dying to meet London's finest.” Carsten nodded to Ezekiel.
“You haven't eaten yet, have you?” Casey asked. Seeing the shaking heads, he smiled. “Then room service it is. Let me get the menu.”
They sat a while together, poring over the choices of fine food and drink. Seeing as the latter was covered, they all focused on dinner. From, “Ooh, filet mignon!” to “Oysters, my favorite!”, they each made their selections. Ezekiel hung back a little, however. He pointed to the seafood section and turned to Casey.
“Lob-ster?” he said.
~*~
The claw-cracking tools weren't needed, apparently.
“Mmm,” Ezekiel hummed as he cracked the second claw open with his bare hands. As he dipped it in the melted butter provided, Ronald chuckled.
“Well, it's MEANT to be a messy meal, at any rate,” he said.
“He's just gotten used to utensils. I suppose we can let this one go,” Casey said. He poured himself another glass of wine, his third. The hiccups had already arrived, both from the drink and his voracious eating. However well his mother and Dina cooked, no one could make crabcakes like this hotel's staff could. Another sharp crack and slurp came from an equally-starving Ezekiel; Casey chortled. “Breathe, darling, breathe.”
“Aw, 'darling'. You two make me ill,” Carsten said. Casey scoffed and made a wry smile.
“As if you never turned into a sappy-twit around... oh, what was his name...”
“Anthony,” Ronald said. Casey snapped his fingers.
“Ah, THAT'S the one.”
“Shush up, as if you could blame me,” Carsten retorted.
“Oh, we can blame you all we like. Why you go for such big-nosed men is beyond anyone,” Ronald said.
Carsten made an angry pout as the boys chuckled. “He was our school's finest actor! I went to all of his plays. Ah, Anthony...”
“Big-nosed, Italian Aaaanthony...” Casey said in a sing-song drawl.
“Man-jaaa!” Ronald chuckled and stuffed his mouth with steak.
“Brats, the lot 'o ye.” Carsten turned his eyes to Ezekiel then motioned to Casey. “What DO you see in this brainless little twat, anyway?”
“Fresh!” Casey cried.
“Well?”
Ezekiel looked between them and made an oil-glistening smirk. “He's all right,” he said.
“What? Just 'all right'?” Casey said, scoffing more.
“Now, now. I courted the mite once, too, don't forget,” Ronald said.
“'Til you went and hic! screwed every-fing up,” Carsten, apparently intoxicated, said.
At Ronald's own pout, Casey reached over and patted his hand. “Forgiven... you loud-mouthed twat.”
More laughter from Carsten, even Ronald, who blushed and waved his hand dismissively. “You were simply too good to not blather about, sweetheart,” he said.
“Speaking of blathering...” Carsten took the last bite of his meal, thumped his chest and sat back, wine glass being spun slightly in his fingers. He looked to Ezekiel and grinned like a wolf. “...Just how wild do you two lads get, eh?”
“Wild?” Ezekiel echoed.
“Mmm, if the lake on the bathroom floor I found says anything...” Ronald drifted off, cocking an eyebrow. Casey felt his face heat up.
“That gives nothing... away,” he said, pausing to collect his alcohol-drenched thoughts. “Who says it was us, both-in there??”
“The blankets were soaked, too. Give it up, dear boy,” Carsten said.
Casey groaned and shook his head as he looked to Ezekiel, who was also finishing a glass of wine. “No kissing and telling, now,” he said.
“You're absolutely NO fun,” Carsten told him. He lifted the bottle-the second he'd gotten for them, and found it almost empty. “Drat. We should send for more.”
“We don't need more, you drunkard,” Casey said.
“Says the boy who had his weight in it,” Ronald chimed in.
“Come on, now. Tonight... is about indulgence,” Carsten said.
Sighing, Casey watched as he trotted off to the phone. Every night would be about indulgence, if left up to these lads...
~*~
“Now, now, Master Tyler... it will do you no good to resist.”
Carsten nodded at Ronald's persistent badgering as he lit a cigarette. “EVERY proper English gentleman has themselves a smoke from time to time.”
Ezekiel eyed the cigarette, imported of course (Ronald's tastes required the best) and gave the boys a skeptical expression. “Why?” he asked.
“I suppose it shows sor... sorphis-tication,” Ronald replied drunkenly.
“Whhhy?” Ezekiel said again, drawling the word.
“Why ask why? Have you tried it at least?” Carsten asked.
“No. It smells awful,” Ezekiel replied.
Casey sighed and settled in closer next to his lover. “If he doesn't want to... remember, I don't smoke. All-that much, anyway.”
“You used to. Especially after...” Ronald paused, blushed and lit a match. It was brought to the end of his cigarette then extended out to Ezekiel again. “Come now. One puff.”
Still looking reluctant, Ezekiel sniffed, glared at the offending item then took it. Casey winced, feeling as if the poor boy was being corrupted. He was, of course, something which seemed to be inevitable when being around these nasty lads Casey loved. Finally, the cigarette was brought up to Ezekiel's lips and he took a tentative suck. No sooner had he breathed it in, he almost dropped the smoke on the floor when an awful sounding coughing fit exploded from his chest.
“Oh, dear,” Ronald said.
“You see? Oh, Ezekiel...” Casey said, though he couldn't help from chuckling a little as he himself shook from Ezekiel's coughing fit. The lad's face had gone beet red, and his hand waved around in front of his face to bat away the small cloud hanging there.
“T-Terr-ible,” Ezekiel said in an awful stutter.
“Wait a few moments then try again,” Ronald said.
Ezekiel recovered to give the young man a skeptical smile then moved to rest back on his elbows. Casey was moved with him, smiling wide as he moved onto his back, head resting upon Ezekiel's belly. It felt so wonderful and right when Ezekiel moved his hand to Casey's hair and ran his fingers through it, slowly, gently. “I say... we play a hic! game,” Casey said.
“Like what?” Carsten said, intrigued.
“Nothing to do with biscuits, please.”
Ezekiel's comment made them all drop their jaws; it was followed by hearty laughter. “Oh Casey, you did NOT tell him about that!” Carsten said.
“I didn't, that was... Charlie's doing.” Not wanting to dwell on that, Casey rolled his eyes and smirked. “So nasty. No. No biscuits involved.”
“What, then?” Ronald asked.
“Truth or dare!” Carsten said in a spit. Casey grinned.
“You can still read my mind.”
“What is that?” Ezekiel asked.
“It's a game, wherein you're asked to pick truth or a dare; meaning that if I ask you, 'truth or dare?', and you pick truth, I get to ask you any question I like--”
“I'd told you about this, remember?” Casey said while staring sideways at his lover. “The game where I'd told Leigh the, um-truth?”
“Oh. Yes,” Ezekiel said.
“And you MUST answer honestly, no lying,” Casey interjected. Carsten nodded.
“Exactly. Or... you take a dare. You do that, and you must do whatever I tell you to do,” he said.
Ezekiel gave him a suspicious look. “Whatever you tell me?”
“Mmhmm. We try not to be TOO embarrassing, but... it's meant for fun,” Carsten replied. “Here, I'll ask first. Um... Casey. Truth or dare.”
Chuckling, Casey said, “Truth. I'm taking the safe route with you.”
“Hah, no such thing as 'safe' in this game. Now, let me seeee...” Carsten drifted off in a drawl a moment, but soon made a slow, sly smile. “Besides fucking, what's your favorite thing to do in bed?”
Already. Casey knew he was blushing as he chuckled. “Um... well, I...” he said, then sighed. “I rather like it when I'm licked... there.”
Ronald scoffed. “Oh, be serious, you HAVE to say--”
“My arse,” Casey blurted. He narrowed his eyes at the cooing lads. “MY turn. Carsten-truth or dare?”
“Ah... dare. I'll break the ice first.”
It was Casey's turn to wear a mischievous expression. “Snog Ronnie.”
Ronald raised his eyebrows as Carsten turned to him, grinned and leaned in to complete his task. Casey knew he'd take it... or give it, really. Ronald sounded like he was enjoying it with his light moans and the widening of his mouth to receive Carsten's tongue. “Lads?” Casey said after a full minute, but they didn't stop. Instead, Ronald lowered, took the back of Carsten's neck and continued. Sighing, Casey looked up to Ezekiel. “Quick game, evidently--”
“Zekie, truth or dare?” Ronald broke away from Carsten a moment to ask, but quickly added, “Pick dare.”
Ezekiel blinked furiously then smirked. “Dare.”
“Snog Casey,” Ronald said, snorted then turned back to Carsten.
Casey turned onto his side, moved up Ezekiel's chest and shrugged. “You heard him,” he said.
Ezekiel eyed Casey a moment, smirked then took his chin to bring him up into a moist, hot kiss. 'Oh, THANK you, Ronald,' Casey thought the devious young man's way as he got to enjoy a lovely thrill, involving witnesses in this usually-private act. Ezekiel seemed to be enjoying it as well; his eyes kept opening in slits to take glances at the pair with them. It wasn't out of insecurity, Casey sensed, but an odd, friendly competition. Ezekiel wanted them to see how he worked, how he made Casey gasp and hum. Casey did just that of course, especially when Ezekiel smoothed a hand down his front to his navel. It moved even lower to the waist of Casey's breeches to flick buttons open quickly; exciting as this was, Casey giggled nervously and broke away. “None of that, lover,” he told Ezekiel. He put his hand over Ezekiel's wandering one and shook his head slowly while smiling wide.
“Mmm, why not?” Ezekiel said in a throaty voice.
“Yes, darling, why not?”
Carsten's comment made Casey look over. Before he could say, “We're keeping the clothes on, lads,” he saw that both boys had their slacks open, Carsten's hand fondling Ronald past the waist-and vice-versa. Casey scoffed. “A dreaded orgy, come on now...” he said.
“It's not like we're rutting, for goodness sake,” Ronald said, his voice light and dreamy. He was rather enjoying the attention his cock was receiving, going by the half-lidded eyes and blissful expression.
“Still, I... oh...” Casey was interrupted by Ezekiel's hand sliding past the fabric and straight to his growing shaft. Every protest Casey was planning slid away in a shot, leaving his mouth open, wordless. What COULD he say? He did, in fact, want this, was enjoying it... “B-Bother,” he murmured before returning the favor. Ezekiel stiffened but kept fondling Casey as his slacks were undone and his prick was taken into Casey's palm.
“It o-only means he's comfff... comfor... oh,” Carsten stumbled on words, giving up and giving in to the pleasure Ronald was giving him. The atmosphere grew heavy with pheromones and sexual-tension, especially when Ronald brought Carsten's cock out into the open. Casey shivered seeing the action; Carsten didn't seem to mind the exposure a bit. He hummed throatily, turned his head to the side and made a wide grin Casey's way. “Show us,” he said.
“Show...” Casey murmured, trailing off when he saw where Carsten's gaze was set. The large bulge between Ezekiel's legs was almost showing itself on its own, growing with every second that passed. Casey swallowed and bit his lip. He didn't want to push Ezekiel into 'showing off' for the boys, but the boy said nothing-he simply kept mouthing Casey's neck hungrily. Carsten's request suddenly felt like the best idea ever... let them see my lover, Casey thought as he brought him out. Ezekiel's response to his being revealed was shown in a jerk, but he didn't protest the action.
“My, my,” Ronald said in a breathy voice. “I've suddenly grown quite jealous.”
Casey smiled as he nudged Ezekiel's forehead with his chin to move his face to his again. Their kiss was immediately urgent, Ezekiel grabbing the back of Casey's head to hold tight, press them together harder. He molested the inside of Casey's mouth with wide, long swoops of his tongue, his teeth closing over his lower lip a few times before diving back in. Casey heard desperate whimpers and throaty moans; it took him a moment to realize that he was the one making them.
All bets were off now. Both couples began stripping their clothes away, no longer caring about decorum or manners. They'd never been known for them before. While no one moved to actual coupling, just the act of Casey wrapping his legs around Ezekiel's in a tight embrace was almost enough to bring him to the brink in and of itself.
~*~
A harsh, shrill ring! made Casey's eyes snap open. The room was brightly-lit, searing his brain like a fish on a pan. His head crackled and spit with flame, it seemed; it took him a moment or two to realize that the ringing was the phone. “B-Blast it,” he muttered as he sat up.
The dull, throbbing ache was immediate. Realizing that he was on the floor-that he'd slept upon it, naked besides the bedsheets tangled all around him made him crawl instead of stand. The others began stirring, more groans filling the room. “Stop it!” Ronald said in a drowsy voice just as Casey plucked the phone from its base.
“H-Hello?”
“Master Connor? This is the front desk; a Mr. and Mrs. Frank Connor are here, requesting to be sent up to your room?”
Casey straightened in a sickening jolt. “Oh-oh, y-yes, they're-allowed,” he stammered.
“Very good, then.”
The phone was all but tossed away; Casey rose to a stand and rushed over to the others. “Up! Up, up, up!” he hollered.
“Wuh...” Carsten said in a thick voice. Ronald attempted to throw his sheets over his head, but Casey grabbed them and threw them off.
“My parents are coming! UP, now!”
This gave the proper encouragement for the boys to gasp, rise and rush around for discarded clothing. Casey turned on his heels to where he'd been sleeping with Ezekiel and frowned. “Where's Ezekiel??” he said, waving his hand to the empty spot where the young man had fallen asleep. Carsten looked over and shrugged while scampering off to one of the bathrooms.
“Not my concern!” he yelled before the door was shut behind him. Casey rolled his eyes and watched as Ronald fought to get his clothing on.
“Don't you want to wash? Oh dear lord, it STINKS in here!!”
Ronald let out a bellow of a laugh, stood and forced his slacks on. “Quick, a smoke!”
It was the best idea. Casey nodded quick, took the cigarette Ronald offered and allowed him to light it. He next went to a table which held different toiletries; a small bottle of cologne was there, thank goodness. Casey splashed some upon his neck, underarms and stomach, hoping certain aromas were masked enough. “We're a complete mess,” he said with a groan.
“Oh now, your father's seen us in worse shape,” Ronald said.
Now dressed, however haphazardly, both boys did their best to straighten up the place. The nest of sheets and pillows had just been thrown back upon the beds when a knock came at the door. Hoping for the best, Casey went over to take the chain from the wall and open the room up to his mother and father. “Good m-morning!” he cheered... a little too loudly and with a shake. Mr. Connor cocked an eyebrow as he walked in, Mrs. Connor following.
“What... oh. Hello, Ronald,” Mr. Connor said.
“Hello!” the boy replied.
“Oh, dear... what HAVE you lads been up to??” Mrs. Connor turned this way and that, motioning around the room. Empty bottles were scattered about the floor, shoes lying on their sides.
“We... we had a little rowdy get-together, I'll admit it,” Casey said with another groan.
“I'd say, yes. Where's Ezekiel?” Mr. Connor asked.
“I'm... not sure, actually,” Casey tentatively replied.
“Not sure?” Mrs. Connor said with obvious concern. “What do you mean, not--”
“Oh. Hello.”
Everyone turned to the door, which had been left open; Ezekiel now stepped inside, a large paper bag in his hand. “E... Ezekiel,” Casey said in a breath. He noted that the young man was put-together perfectly, not one wrinkle in his clothing, his eyes clear of any sign that he'd drank as much as anyone the night before.
“Good morning,” he said to Mr. and Mrs. Connor, smiling.
“Goodness, Casey worried us so!” Mrs. Connor said. “He said he'd no idea where you were.”
“Oh... I went to the pastry shop across the street,” Ezekiel said. He lifted the bag and grinned. “Their scones are delicious.”
~*~
As sad as it was to bid Carsten and Ronald goodbye, Casey was more than happy to wash-up, dress and get ready for the evening's fun. His and Ezekiel's shared bathing had come to an end, of course-another thing that made Casey sigh sadly. Still, after such a busy weekend, it was nice to have the comfort and security that came with his parents' presence.
Now in the carriage leading through the city, Mr. Connor had a bright grin on his face as he spoke to Ezekiel. “You're going to love 'Wiltons', dear boy. It's only the best restaurant this side of the globe,” he said.
“Father has an unnatural love for oysters,” Mrs. Connor teased.
“As do you!”
“But I don't slurp as disgracefully as you do.”
Casey chuckled and looked to Ezekiel. “You can get lobster again... or try something new. It really IS superb,” he told him.
“Ah, and oysters come raw, something you're used to already!” Mr. Connor added, giving Ezekiel a light slap to the knee. The boy chuckled.
“Perhaps I'll try,” he replied.
Soon enough, the carriage was stopped in front of the white stone building where the restaurant sat. Mr. Connor stepped out first and held his hand out to his wife, then went to pay and tip the driver. Casey smiled as he met the sidewalk; he turned to Ezekiel, who was looking around the area. “You're in for a treat,” Casey said.
“That he is... come now, lads.” Mr. Connor took Mrs. Connor's hand and led the way.
Casey beamed as they all entered the building, finding it just as lovely and even sparkling as he remembered it. Candles were all around, on tables and hanging from the ceiling on chandeliers, making the room glitter and gleam. The dark wooden furniture, from tables to chairs to huge bar area made the atmosphere calm, soothing. Looking to the far end of the place, Casey grinned and tugged Ezekiel's sleeve. “Piano,” he said of the set-up where an older gentleman was playing a Beethoven piece.
“Very nice,” Ezekiel said.
“Well, well!” A man stepped out from behind the greeter's station and approached, going to Mr. Connor specifically. “If it isn't my good friend Franklin!”
“Hah, good evening, William!” Mr. Connor said as they shook hands.
“A good evening indeed. It's been some time since I've seen you... ah,” William moved on to Mrs. Connor with a broad grin. He took her hand, gave it a light kiss and said, “Looking stunning as always, dear Meredith.”
“Oh, now...” Mrs. Connor said, though she made a wide smile and blushed.
“Delighted, of course. And-no, that is not Casey. It can't be,” William said. “Good god, lad; last I saw you, you were barely out of nappies!”
With Casey not having an inkling of memory when it came to this man, he could only chuckle and accept the man's handshake. “Yes, I daresay-it's me,” he said.
“And I'm sure you've caught wind of our newest addition to the family,” Mr. Connor said, motioning to Ezekiel. “Ezekiel Tyler, my friend, William Miller.”
“Of course I've heard of this fine young man,” William said. He gave him a handshake as well. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Ezekiel.”
“Thank you,” Ezekiel replied.
“I must admit; Adam had come by and said you'd be in the city, so I knew I'd be seeing you here. We're still your favorite restaurant, I assume,” William said to Mr. Connor, who laughed.
“Yes, nothing's changed,” he said.
“Allow me to seat you myself,” William said with a gracious wave of his arm.
The family filed past the rows of booths and groups of tables, gaining a few looks as they passed. Once again, Casey noticed a few young women staring away, some with obvious recognition in their faces. They remained cordial, however, no one leaping up to get a good look at the 'savage' among them. When they reached the table William directed them to, Casey was pleased to see that they were close to the piano; going by Ezekiel's eyes set on the instrument, he was happy, as well.
“Now then, what will we be having for drinks?” William asked as he passed menus out.
“A nice bottle of red-your choice,” Mr. Connor replied.
“And some water,” Casey said. “Just water.”
“Excellent; I'll send for them,” William said. He gave them another wide grin before setting off to put their drink orders in.
“Just water? No wine?” Mr. Connor asked, a teasing smirk on his face.
“We had enough of that last night,” Casey replied. He opened his menu, though he had an idea of what he wanted. With the effects of too-much-wine dwindling away and his barely-there breakfast of a scone and tea being the only meal he'd enjoyed thus far today, he nodded at the 'Beef' section he stared at. “A good, solid steak should be perfect,” he said.
“Steak?” Ezekiel inquired.
“Oh, yes. We haven't had that at home, have we? Honestly, it's right up your alley.” Casey leaned in and flipped Ezekiel's menu open to the meat section. “I'd say a nice, thick cut of filet mignon would make your night.”
“It's beef. We've had beef?” Ezekiel said. Mr. Connor chuckled.
“Not this beef, dear boy. I agree with Casey; you'll love it.”
Nodding slowly, Ezekiel smiled. “I'll try it, then.”
The wine and waters soon arrived, their impeccably-dressed waiter pouring with a smile-and an obvious stare to the 'man of the hour', of course. Still, he remained professional as he listed off the specials. “Thank you; we decided already,” Mr. Connor said. He gave his wife's order first of salmon with herbed rice, his usual of oysters (“A double-order, if you please,”) with the house salad and the boys' steaks, which came with a potato mash of their choices.
“Sweet potatoes, for both, please,” Casey had answered, and the man was on his way. Smiling, Casey leaned back and sighed, sipping his water with a genteel hand. “Thank you for taking the family out, Father.”
“You're welcome. We couldn't come to London and not visit our old haunt,” Mr. Connor said, giving Mrs. Connor's hand a squeeze before raising his glass. “To the Connor and Tyler families' good fortune.”
They all toasted to that then sipped, each face wearing a smile. Mrs. Connor made a low hum then leaned forward. “So now TELL us more about what in the world happened yesterday? We saw it in the papers already on the way to the hotel!”
“Yes, details, pronto,” Mr. Connor chimed in.
The retelling of events came with a touch of drama, of course; Ezekiel blushed the whole way, especially when Casey described his lifting the carriage as a 'miracle of brute strength and agility'. “He can tell a tale, can't he?” Ezekiel muttered bashfully.
“Well? It's true! Herbert doesn't have to rely on his usual brand of madness, the story is more dramatic than any newspaper could possibly report,” Casey said. “Oh, if you two had been there...”
“Erm... pardon me, but...”
The family turned to the aisle next to their table, where a young woman was standing. She seemed struck by something-or someone, going by where her gaze was set. “Are you... Ezekiel, the... the boy found in... in the jungle?” she asked in a meek, timid voice.
“Yes,” Ezekiel replied.
She made a visible shiver, lips parted. “I... I read today's edition of the Daily Mail. The story was... it was astounding. I...” she paused, clearing her throat an trying to smile. “I hope I don't look rude. I... I'd just wanted to greet you, welcome... you to our country properly.”
Ezekiel made a cordial nod. “Thank you. Your... name?”
“Oh! Ca... Caroline.” She looked flustered now, like a girl in love. Casey fought to keep his smile on as she made a small curtsy. Perhaps not to look rude, she looked to everyone else, smiling. “It's a pleasure to meet you, and the family. I'll... go back to my table. My friends are waiting.”
Mr. Connor's smile was telling, while Mrs. Connor's lips were in a thin, white line, eyes set on the table. “My oh my,” she said.
“A bold lass, isn't she?” Casey remarked. He watched as she reached the table on the other side of the dining room, where two other young ladies sat. They immediately leaned in and began chattering wildly, most likely asking Caroline for juicy details-not that she had any to give.
“Once you become a real, tried-and-true man of England-oh, you poor lad,” Mr. Connor said, chuckling a little. “The female attentions will only get more and more intense as the days go on, I fear.”
“Let's hope not.” Casey hadn't meant to make his voice so gritty; he worried for a moment, wondering if he'd given anything away in his show of distaste. The quick, odd look he received from his father made him turn away, fighting for a subject change. The perfect one came to light, urging him to say, “So tomorrow, what should we expect?”
“Ah, at the courts, yes,” Mr. Connor took a quick sip of wine then leaned in to discuss, “We'll be meeting with Adam at a cafe an hour before we're to report. He's told me that everything should be in order; what will happen is, at nine o'clock, we'll be--”
“Pardon me.”
Another interruption. Casey gritted his teeth and looked to his right again. Instead of a blushing, stammering girl, he was surprised to find a large, stout gentleman standing there, his broad grin decorated by a thick mustache. He wore a classic, large top-hat, which he lifted from his head in greeting. “I'm sorry to bother you fine folks,” he said. That was the next surprise; his American accent made everyone sit up straighter.
“Erm... hello,” Mr. Connor said.
“My name's Jacob Billings-JB, for short,” he said. “I can only assume that you're the Connor family?”
“Um, yes. A pleasure,” Mr. Connor replied, standing up for a moment to shake his hand. JB took the offer, using a little more force than was warranted. Casey saw it in his father's clenching jaw before he pulled away and sat down again. “What can we do for you this evening?”
“Well, this happens to be a right-fine stroke of luck, for me. I'd wondered how to get in contact with you, regarding a business proposition.”
Casey looked between them all, confused. Caroline had been a cooing, resting baby compared to this brash fellow. “Business?” he echoed.
“Mmm.” The man hummed then turned his sights on Ezekiel. “It has to do with your new charge, Zeke.”
Ezekiel blinked furiously and looked to Mr. Connor with deep question in his eyes. “Zeke?” he said. Mr. Connor sniffed and raised his eyebrows.
“He means you,” he said, then turned back to JB to say, “We just ordered our dinner, and I'm not sure we're in the mood to talk business with a stranger.”
“Ah, but I'm sure you've heard of us.” JB reached into his fine suit-jacket and produced a card. He held it out to Mr. Connor, who took it and gave it a scrutinizing stare. “I'm the owner of 'J.B.'s World of Wonder', an international entertainment company. We're currently on our European tour, and if I say so myself--”
“We're not interested,” Mr. Connor said with sudden, expected force, going so far as to toss the card on the table toward JB. The mustachioed man only smiled wider.
“You say this before you know what kind of money we're willing to pay?”
“I am retired Royal Navy, I have no need for your offers. If you'd done more research, you would have known that.”
JB's smile faded, but only a little. “That's all well-and-good for you, but I'm not asking for YOUR services. If I may borrow Zeke for a moment or two--”
“Do I have to call the owner and have you escorted from our table, Sir?” Mr. Connor interrrupted. The tension mounted as JB rolled his tongue around on the inside of his cheek, looking from Mr. Connor to Ezekiel a few times. Then, with a sigh, he tipped his hat again.
“Thank you for your time,” JB said. He sauntered off at a slow pace, waving his ornate cane back and forth as he went. Casey stared after him, confused beyond reason.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
Mr. Connor took the card JB hadn't bothered to take back and gave it to Casey. “This... is what that was about.”
Casey took it and read. His face felt hot: J.B.'s World of Wonder: The #1 Circus In The World!
~*~
“But... they have elephants?”
Casey felt tired; no matter how many details as to what JB had offered, Ezekiel was still stuck on the animal acts provided by his and most carnival acts. “Yes, Ezekiel,” Casey said as he went from the sink to the towels, drying his hands and face. He was more than glad to be back at their hotel, away from nosy busybodies and shady circus-men-even if now, technically, the suite was being shared with his parents. It was big enough to be close to Ezekiel, but not as close as they'd gotten used to the last few nights. At the moment, he was looking back at Ezekiel, who stood in the bathroom doorway, already changed for bed, curiosity in his eyes. “It's... not what you think.”
“How do they get the elephants... here, I mean? They don't come from here,” Ezekiel said.
“No. I...” Casey had no idea as to how to explain this. He lifted his arms and let them down in a slap; as he passed Ezekiel to head into their bedroom area, he said, “...They probably go to Africa, or parts of Asia and bring them here on boats, trucks... whatever form of transportation.”
“They're hunted,” Ezekiel said in sudden realization. Casey made a sad nod.
“I'd say so, yes.”
Ezekiel went to one of the beds and sat down upon it while Casey chose his nightclothes. He lifted his head to say something, but fell quiet... looked back down, went into deep thought... “How do they hunt them, and... bring them here?” he asked finally.
While Casey wasn't a hunting expert or worked in a zoo, he knew enough. Instead of throwing his clothes off and redressing in his silk pajamas, he shuffled over to the other bed and sat to face Ezekiel. “From what I know, they use what's called tranquilizers, a kind of... drug that makes an animal unconscious,” he said.
“Uncon...?”
“It's a kind of sleep, a forced one. It doesn't kill the poor beast, but it knocks them out cold. How they actually get... a large animal and move them around, I couldn't say. It takes a lot of men and machinery, I'd suppose,” Casey explained. “Then... they're brought to whatever zoo or traveling carnival, trained... Ezekiel, it's-it's not...”
Ezekiel stared at Casey; he seemed to understand enough, going by his deepening, thoughtful gaze. “Are they hurt?” he asked next.
“I don't know. I know that they use some force, especially... to train. Whips are used, sometimes they're chained... I've seen it myself, when I was a child and Charlie's parents took us to a circus.”
“Then yes. They're hurt,” Ezekiel said.
Maybe it was a human's guilt, wanting to think that elephants and other creatures had thick skin an didn't feel the blows. But Casey's reasonable side knew better, making him nod. “My father has never been fond of that business. You saw it yourself, with how he reacted to JB,” Casey said. “It's not just because of what-he was implying, meaning with you, but circuses in general. Father's well-traveled enough to know the natural world, and how man has meddled with it.”
“Why did he want to... do business, with me?”
“God,” Casey murmured. They hadn't covered that yet. With how Mr. Connor had told the family they'd not speak of JB's rudeness any longer and 'enjoy their fine meals', despite the uneasiness JB had brought upon them, it was now up to Casey to explain. “I've no doubt that JB and his company... would have loved to have you as part of their... show.”
“Show?” Ezekiel asked.
“It's not hard to understand, really. They specialize with exotic animals, elephants... jungle creatures. To them, that's what you are. That's why I'd love to track that bastard down and pop him one, right on the mouth.” Casey stood quick and went to the dressing screen. A mix of anger and sorrow began piling up, making his movements hasty as he undressed. “I'm sorry, Ezekiel-I'm so sorry you had to deal with that rudeness.”
“Well... I'm supposed to have gone on elephant rides, according to the paper's story. So...”
Was Ezekiel chuckling? Casey looked over the screen and indeed found a smirk on the young man's face. “What they would have done was exploit you, make you out to be a dirty animal. Who knows, perhaps if you tried disagreeing with them during their 'training' you, you'd be given a whipping!” Casey retorted.
Ezekiel's smile faded at that. He looked away and sniffed. “I was trying to make joke. A joke. Be funny.”
“I... oh, Ezekiel,” Casey said. He finally finished getting his slacks' ties done and he came around the screen, going straight over to where Ezekiel sat. “I'm not angry with you. I'm sorry, I'm really not. I'm angry at anyone who would look at you and think you're nothing but a jungle freak-show. That's what it's called: a freak-show, where they put people on display, people who are... it's... it's wrong, and anyone who would try to make you a part of it needs a bloody lip.”
Raising his eyebrows, Ezekiel looked to Casey. “He made you very angry,” he said.
“Yes. He did.”
“Mmm.” Ezekiel hummed and turned to face Casey; he put their foreheads together and an odd smile tickled one corner of his lips. “I wouldn't have gone, so you know.”
“I know. Still, it's-”
“And I don't have to care or worry about what anyone wants to think. Of me,” Ezekiel interrupted to say. “I'm learning that, because of you. Don't be so angry. Please. It doesn't matter, none of it.”
Casey stilled and relaxed, feeling Ezekiel's warm, moist breath wash over his cheeks and lips. “Do... you care what I think?” Casey asked. At Ezekiel's soft nod moving Casey with him, Casey swallowed and stole a gentle kiss from his lips. “I think... you're remarkable. Beautiful.”
Ezekiel closed his eyes, smiled wider and stole his kiss back. “Do I... love you well?”
“You mean, are you a great lover?” Casey said in a murmur and light chuckle. Ezekiel's cheeks went pink, obviously insecure at his bungling words. Casey reassured him that this wasn't an issue at all in sneaking a hand to Ezekiel's shoulder. He let it travel up to Ezekiel's neck, up further to just behind his ear where his fingers made light presses. “You complete me,” Casey whispered, nuzzling their noses together. “Utterly and always, you--”
“Knock, knock!”
Mrs. Connor's loud voice and rapping on the door connecting their suites made both boys leap in their seats and move away from each other. Casey jumped to a stand and went to the other bed. “Y-Yes?” Casey called out. “Come in!”
The woman opened the door and stepped in. Her smile was tired but wide as she looked upon them, clad in her favorite thick, red robe, long flowing nightdress and nightcap. “Your father and I are going to bed; he's already on his way to dreamland,” she said. “I'm here to pretend you're both little children and tuck you in for the night.”
Casey chuckled, rolled his eyes then turned to Ezekiel. He blinked wildly, wondering if his father had told her of their usual 'sleeping arrangements'. “We usually sleep in the same bed. Ezekiel's most comfortable that way,” he said, as casually as he could make it sound.
“That makes my job easier then,” Mrs. Connor replied. She clapped twice. “Into bed with you, then.”
No matter the guilt in having to hide what was really happening between them, Casey was fine in indulging the woman's motherly wishes. He climbed under the covers, Ezekiel following; they took a side, careful to not look TOO cozy. Mrs. Connor smiled warmly as she went to Ezekiel's side first; the sheets and thick blankets were placed around him, tucking him in tight. After placing a kiss upon the young man's forehead, she moved to Casey's side, repeating the tucking-in procedure. “Good night, sleep tight,” she said after giving her son a kiss as well. To finish, she went to the lamp by the windows, turned it off and went back to the opened doorway.
“Goodnight, mother,” Casey said, making his voice child-like. The woman giggled.
“How you tease,” she said.
“Good night... mother,” Ezekiel also said.
“Oh.” Mrs. Connor bit her lip, blew them a kiss each then left, closing the door behind her. Now in the dark, still silence, Casey made a light snort of amusement.
“If she had her way, I'd be back in nappies being fed mushy peas,” he said.
“She's a mother,” Ezekiel replied. He turned onto his side, moving closer to Casey. He put a hand under the covers and onto Casey's chest, right over his heart. “She always will be.”
“Mmm... she's your second mother, in a way... which, well...” Casey turned as well, chuckling more. “...Makes things a little strange. Wonderful. But strange.”
“Are you tired?” Ezekiel asked.
“Mmm...” Casey hummed, again. He moved in tight to nestle himself against Ezekiel's chest. “...If my parents weren't mere yards away, I wouldn't be. Since they are... good night.”
It was Ezekiel's turn to chuckle a little; he wrapped his arms around Casey and pulled him into a soft, gentle embrace. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too,” Casey said, the words spoken over Zeke's heart, where they belonged.
I know I've been a right-shit, not having updated ANY of my WIPs in so, so long, especially since I stupidly took on so damned many in the last few years. You probably barely friggin' remember half of them, and wouldn't blame you if you said, "Pah, I have no faith in this ingrate!" But, in case I haven't completely annihilated the C/Z fandom's faith in me, I'd love to share? :)
In all serious, honest-of-honesty, I've been going through a super-heavy, terrible struggle when it comes to writing. I've gotten some story-work done, like my Torrin!fic and other quickies, but when it comes to the real MEAT of what I write, HOW I write and WHY I write, I've hit one of the biggest, most frustrating blocks I've ever encountered. It got to a point a few days ago, when I'd once again opened one of my WIP docs to try and 'recapture' and failed at getting anything done in it, where I'd actually cried and ranted about how horrible it felt, not being able to write what I so truly love. I've been in a world of doubt as to just what I'm able to do, IF I'm able to do it; if giving-up on fandom is an option when deep in my heart of hearts is most definitely not. But at this very moment, having gotten through a tough bit where I just didn't know what the FUCK to do, I feel like a floodgate or two's opened up, and shit's come a bit more clearer. I don't want to be too optimistic. But still.
I have to thank a certain someone dearly for THIS bout of creativity... this isn't your official birthday gift, verangel, but since you'd helped me through and inspired what was YOUR STORY to BEGIN with, I can only sit here and mourn the fact that you're not here, right in front of me, to glomp, hug, squish, squash, squishle, squashle, and other some-such grabby-vernacular. So much love, all for you. :D
So, here we go!
Banner by aliensouldream
Title: Ezekiel's Way--14
Pairing/Characters: C/"E", OMCs, Mr. and Mrs. Connor
Rating: NC-17
Genre: AU period-piece, circa 1905
Author's Note: For my sweetheart, verangel, a lovely friend and confidant. :)
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Casey fights to help Ezekiel acclimate to his 'new world'.
Previous Parts
“Good news, lads!” Herbert, in his usual carnival-barker fashion, announced as he returned to the parlor. “I just called the hospital Ms. Bobbin had been taken to; the combination of Ezekiel's heroism and her whalebone corset saved her life!”
All four boys sighed with relief and sank into their seats further. Casey finished off his coffee and asked, “How badly was she hurt, however?”
“Mmm, well, she won't be going home anytime soon. Her hip is broken, there was some bleeding on the inside, and some damage was done to her spine. But they've managed to get it under control. They aren't sure if she will walk again, but...” Herbert shrugged and clapped his hands together. “...She's alive, at any rate.”
“What of her father, and the driver?” Carsten asked.
“A good concussion and minor fractures for both, but fine. Oh, this story... an exclusive, to boot! Thank goodness for our new telegram system,” Herbert said with barely-concealed joy. He began collecting his things quickly. “I must be off, get this story to the presses!”
“That's fine,” Casey said. Herbert had been a whirlwind of excitement; nice enough, but they'd grown tired of him within minutes.
“Thank you so much for letting me get the story, lads. And you, Ezekiel...” Herbert went over to the boy and clapped his shoulder. “A right hero. You thought you had attention and adoration before? Hah! Just you wait!”
'Wonderful,' Casey thought with dread. Even if Ezekiel had earned the praise and exultation, it'd been overwhelming enough already. Ezekiel made a small smile and nodded.
“Thank you,” he said.
Herbert made his leave, promising to make the article full of glowing reports 'of epic proportions'. Once he was gone, all four of them groaned and sank even further into the couch and chair cushions. “That was...” Carsten said, but was cut off by a loud knock at the door. “What, did he forget some--”
“Gregory Millfred, with the Mirror Weekly!” came the call through the cracked-open window.
“Oh, seriously?” Casey said with malice. “THAT hack?”
“The miserable cuss from the party? Oh yes, let's open the door, shall we?” Carsten stated sarcastically. More knocking arrived.
“Is anyone there?” Gregory called.
“No! Be off with you!” Carsten yelled. The others snorted in amusement.
“We'd like an interview with Master Tyler--”
Casey snarled and went to the window, opening it wide. He looked to the stoop, finding the newspaper team gathered on the porch. “You mean, the 'elaborate fraud'? He's unavailable at the moment.”
“Now, now, we're just looking to learn of the amazing story from this afternoon!” Gregory said with a wide grin plastered on his face.
“Then read tomorrow's issue of the Daily Mail for their exclusive interview.” With that, Casey slammed the window closed.
“Hah! A right fine reply, Casey-boy,” Ronald said.
“Vultures. Herbert, I can take... barely. Them?” Casey went back to the couch where Ezekiel sat. He let out a loud, tired moan as he leaned on the young man. “I'm ready to sleep for the next week or five.”
“It WAS astounding, however. I suppose one can't blame everyone for being so enthralled,” Ronald said. He turned his bright smile to Ezekiel. “Honestly, Zekie-I almost keeled over, seeing you lift that blasted carriage. Never before have I seen such a display of brute strength... and I'm a skilled wrestler!”
“A'right, they're leaving...” Carsten said after peering past the curtains at the stoop.
“Good,” Casey said.
Carsten went over to the liquor set-up and began pouring out a few glasses. “This DOES call for a toast, you know. Ronald's right.” He glanced back to Ezekiel, beaming. “You're London's top hero today.”
“I suppose,” Ezekiel said.
“Suppose nothing. Casey's got himself a mighty task now; he's going to have to carry a cricket bat around, beating your admirers away,” Carsten said, chuckling.
“I... simply picked it up. If it's something I can do, to help... why not?” Ezekiel said.
“Ah, but there's the rub-you CAN do it,” Ronald replied. He took the glass Carsten handed him and lifted it. “To Ezekiel; the strongest, bravest young man in London.”
“Hah, you take that back... in all of England,” Carsten 'corrected'.
Even if the attentions following today's near-tragic event was going to be an absolute annoyance, Casey couldn't help but smile as they clinked their glasses together and tipped them to their lips, all in the name of his lover. It was good to see Ezekiel's small but happy smile, and his not wincing in taking a tentative sip. Casey beamed up at him. “You're MY hero, first and foremost,” he said.
“Aw, what a sap,” Carsten said as Casey stole a quick kiss from Ezekiel's lips.
~*~
Once the area was clear of curious passersby, investigators and reporters, Ronald had managed to hire a cab to let Casey and Ezekiel make their quick and covert leave. Naps would definitely be taken before Carsten and Ronald would go to the hotel to enjoy the royal suite with them. “You DID say we could have some festivities there,” Carsten had said before pecking Casey's cheek with a kiss and shutting the carriage's door.
Back at the hotel, Casey was grateful for the surprising anonymity they received. News could spread fast through this city, but they'd beaten them to the punch. They were now in the safe confines of their room, Casey slamming the door with his back and staying there. “Hoo!” he let out a great huff of relief. “We made it!”
Ezekiel smiled, slipped his coat off and tossed the Harrod's bags on a chair hastily. One fell off and hit the floor, but he paid it no mind. “What a day,” he said.
“Truer words have never been spoken.” Casey smiled and moved to the desk where the phone was. He regarded it a moment then scowled. “Oh, I'll call my parents later. I need to relax.”
“I need to wash.”
Casey turned to Ezekiel, who was slipping out of his jacket. The buttons of his shirt were plucked open, Casey staring at the skin he revealed. “Yes. Yes, that's-a wonderful idea,” he said in a blank, distracted voice. It didn't go unnoticed; Ezekiel paused to stare back, then grinned.
“You will join me?” he asked.
“Yes. Oh, yes, indeed,” Casey said before practically tearing his jacket, shirt and slacks from his body. Once out of his stockings and shoes, Ezekiel grunt-chuckled and followed suit.
“Our tub is big enough, I would say,” Ezekiel said as he went to Casey and slid his hand over his bare hip. He looked down between them to Casey's hardening shaft, then brushed his hand over its length. Casey hissed and stepped to the doorway leading to the washroom, taking Ezekiel with him in an awkward walk.
“Give me those lips,” Casey demanded; as they entered the large washroom, he moved to the tub, turned the water on with a blind hand and used the other to grab the back of Ezekiel's neck and bring him down into a searing-hot, wet kiss. Ezekiel showed his growing expertise in this act by mouthing back, hungrily, encompassing Casey's mouth with his own. The humidity in the room grew, misting the mirrors and stained-glass window above the tub. Casey couldn't stop himself from shamelessly rubbing his cock against Ezekiel's thigh, his blood coursing like firewater to every extremity.
They didn't part, not even when the tub was full and they climbed in. Casey made to climb over Ezekiel's lap, but the young man knelt against the porcelain, pulled Casey's wrists above his head and pressed him against the tub and wall behind it. Open and prone to anything Ezekiel wanted, Casey moaned and opened his legs to let Ezekiel past them. “Oh...” he said in a whisper as Ezekiel danced his tongue from the corner of Casey's lips to the line of his jaw. The young man's grip at his wrists tightened as he moved lower, brushing his nose and parted lips over his shoulder. Casey jolted a little when Ezekiel reached his underarms, but when Ezekiel gave it a kiss and light bite, all anxiety at being touched there slipped away, replaced with shivering excitement.
“You want me,” Ezekiel said as he nuzzled lower to Casey's chest. His tongue darted out in quick laps against a tightening nipple.
“Fuck, yes,” Casey replied breathlessly.
“I can smell it.” Ezekiel let out a heavy sniff and took a deep, deep breath at Casey's neck. “It's all over you. Your sex.”
Casey snarled and tugged at Ezekiel's hold. Ezekiel let him go and put his hands to the wall, allowing Casey to run his hands over the firm, muscled arms surrounding him. “So strong,” he murmured. He slid his hands to Ezekiel's chest and thumbed the excited nubs upon it. “You're so strong.”
Ezekiel cocked his head to the side then dove in for more hungry kisses, as if he owned Casey's mouth. He slapped a hand down to Casey's neck and dragged it up to his jaw, holding him tight. The water around them swayed and sloshed against the tub's sides, almost leaping out in waves to the floor. Casey cared not; let the room below flood and drown the occupants below, if it came to that. He needed Ezekiel wanting more, and more, needed to reach into the water to take hold of the man's gorgeous, needy cock and start stroking. Ezekiel pushed forward and back, growling into Casey's mouth, before he pulled away.
“Fuck,” he said through his snarling lips. He grabbed Casey's hip to turn him. “I need to fuck you. Now.”
“You've earned it,” Casey said, turning fast and holding onto the porcelain edge as if for dear life. The cheeks of his ass were spread with wide, eager hands and pushed up. Casey closed his eyes and bit his lip as he felt Ezekiel's dick slide over his cleft. His hole pouted, as if trying to seek out the eventual contact. More shameless begging came through Casey's pushing back, sliding his backside over Ezekiel's groin. “P-Please, no teasing. No tea--” he said, but was cut off when he felt Ezekiel's cock find its goal. Just the tip, at first, going slow and gentle... too slow and gentle. Casey growled as he pushed back, not willing to wait. He breached his own body upon Ezekiel's, filling himself up. “Oh GOD, don't... don't t-tease...”
Ezekiel slapped a hand onto Casey's shoulder and shoved him back, hard, while holding a hip to keep them together. No more messing-around; he pushed and pulled, back and forth, the rhythm inside forceful. Casey bit his lip so hard, he tasted copper. He was Ezekiel's poppet now, his release, his toy. The floor tiles would indeed be in need of a mop, now, and neither of them seemed to care. Only a few moments more and Ezekiel was making signature grunts and growls-but before he reached completion, he suddenly exited Casey's body, turned him around again and knelt up.
Casey went light-headed as his face was brought up by the neck, while Ezekiel's other hand pumped his own cock inches from Casey's face. Widened eyes lifted to Ezekiel's, which stared down at him in dark slits. The muscle and sinew of Ezekiel's neck strained and tensed as he reached the precipice; Casey looked to the leaking, rosy head, moaned, parted his lips and held his tongue out. He swore he saw Ezekiel's eyes cross and roll back as the young, wild man moaned and spilled his seed over Casey's face. The intense heat of it made Casey flinch but he stayed, mouth opening wider to catch the milky strands escaping Ezekiel's body. He moved forward more to lap the slit, almost drowning himself in the lust of the beautiful, sinful action.
When Ezekiel was done, his body trembled and he shook his lower half back down under the water. They panted and swallowed together, until Ezekiel sniffed and latched his mouth over his own come resting on Casey's cheek. “Oh...” Casey said in a breath, enjoying the feel of Ezekiel's tongue sliding to every pearl, until he was licking Casey's lips. Before Casey could settle in and enjoy it, his world was suddenly jolted upright. He slapped his hands around Ezekiel's shoulders instinctively, making him realize that the young man had risen to a stand, taking Casey with him.
No stumbling, no slipping-Ezekiel was too strong and skilled for that, even on wet tile. Now out of the tub, the washroom entirely, Ezekiel strode them over to the bed and all but tossed Casey onto it. Casey, still sopping wet, bounced once then was stilled at the waist, both of Ezekiel's hands grabbing his hips to hold him down, crawl over Casey and take his cock in his mouth in one smooth, fluid motion. Casey's knees shook open, one foot planting itself on the bedpost to hold himself still. “Suck me-s-suck me, suck me...” he said, voice erratic and deeper than usual. Ezekiel answered his wish, of course, swallowing his shaft down deep to his throat. He slapped a hand over Casey's chest, found a nipple and tugged at it, giving it a solid pinch and twist to make Casey cry out. The mix of pleasure and brutality was more than Casey could take. He squirmed and cried into his orgasm, which hit him like a ton of bricks. Ezekiel's throat pulsed against Casey's inner thigh as he swallowed, sucking the energy clear out of Casey's body. It left Casey limp and cross-eyed, the mix of sweat and bathwater instantly cooling the moment Ezekiel left him. “G-God...” Casey said in a stammer, but before he could give his lover a pleased smile, he found himself pinned to the bed, thighs pushed up to his chest...
Again. He cried out as Ezekiel entered him again, wet bodies plastered together with the bed creaking below. Casey stared up at Ezekiel with wild wonder, the whole world jostling about. “I l-love you,” Casey choked out. Their lips locked together as Ezekiel continued on, driving his cock in and out in a steady pace. By the time Ezekiel's second climax arrived, the sun was setting, no nap taken.
~*~
“He what?”
This stunned reaction was expected. “He lifted the carriage. By himself,” Casey told his mother over the phone, who sounded like she needed smelling-salts.
“By... oh my goodness. OH my goodness...” she said. Mumbling was in the background. “Ezekiel lifted a carriage off a woman! A crash happened...” Presumably, she was answering a baffled Mr. Connor's questions.
“It's going to be in the Daily Mail tomorrow. Herbert and his one-man crew got word and rushed down, so...” Casey said.
“Wine?”
Casey looked up to find Carsten standing there, smiling and holding a glass out to him. “Thank you, yes,” he said, taking it. More mumbling came from his parents' end, until his father began speaking into the phone.
“There was an accident? You're all right, aren't you?”
“Yes, Father, no worries. It happened in the street, in front of Carsten's townhouse,” Casey replied. “We rushed out, and a woman had been trapped underneath it... four men, including myself tried lifting it, but couldn't. So Ezekiel meandered over and all but threw it aside.”
“Oh, the exaggeration,” Ronald said, chuckling.
“Not much of one!” Casey retorted.
“What attention this will bring.” Mr. Connor sighed. “But I suppose it's good attention, anyway. I'll be calling Adam when we're done to let him know, if he hasn't caught wind of it already. He'll probably include it in Monday's hearing.”
“Probably,” Casey said, smiling. Anything that convinced the courts that Ezekiel was proving himself to be a man of bravery and honor was welcome, of course. “I just thought you should know. Obviously.”
“Of course, of course. You have that hotel room until Monday, correct?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Good, good. Your mother and I will be arriving tomorrow afternoon with Seamus and Dina. They're going to take the night off together and do some wedding-shopping, along with a nice dinner,” Mr. Connor said with a chuckle. “We'll do that ourselves. Your mother is excited for it.”
“That sounds good,” Casey replied. “We'll be ready.”
“Good. We'll call in the morning.”
They closed the call off with a goodbye and “good luck,” on both sides; Casey hung up the phone and wandered to the others sitting in the parlor. “Glad THAT'S done,” Casey said, sitting down and taking his first sip of the aromatic red Carsten had picked up on the way here. “Ooh, that's delicious.”
“It'd better be, with the coin I put down for it,” Carsten said with a wink.
“Really, you didn't have to.”
“Ah... it's a time to celebrate. Just so you know, my parents were all a'twitter, finding out what had happened. They're simply dying to meet London's finest.” Carsten nodded to Ezekiel.
“You haven't eaten yet, have you?” Casey asked. Seeing the shaking heads, he smiled. “Then room service it is. Let me get the menu.”
They sat a while together, poring over the choices of fine food and drink. Seeing as the latter was covered, they all focused on dinner. From, “Ooh, filet mignon!” to “Oysters, my favorite!”, they each made their selections. Ezekiel hung back a little, however. He pointed to the seafood section and turned to Casey.
“Lob-ster?” he said.
~*~
The claw-cracking tools weren't needed, apparently.
“Mmm,” Ezekiel hummed as he cracked the second claw open with his bare hands. As he dipped it in the melted butter provided, Ronald chuckled.
“Well, it's MEANT to be a messy meal, at any rate,” he said.
“He's just gotten used to utensils. I suppose we can let this one go,” Casey said. He poured himself another glass of wine, his third. The hiccups had already arrived, both from the drink and his voracious eating. However well his mother and Dina cooked, no one could make crabcakes like this hotel's staff could. Another sharp crack and slurp came from an equally-starving Ezekiel; Casey chortled. “Breathe, darling, breathe.”
“Aw, 'darling'. You two make me ill,” Carsten said. Casey scoffed and made a wry smile.
“As if you never turned into a sappy-twit around... oh, what was his name...”
“Anthony,” Ronald said. Casey snapped his fingers.
“Ah, THAT'S the one.”
“Shush up, as if you could blame me,” Carsten retorted.
“Oh, we can blame you all we like. Why you go for such big-nosed men is beyond anyone,” Ronald said.
Carsten made an angry pout as the boys chuckled. “He was our school's finest actor! I went to all of his plays. Ah, Anthony...”
“Big-nosed, Italian Aaaanthony...” Casey said in a sing-song drawl.
“Man-jaaa!” Ronald chuckled and stuffed his mouth with steak.
“Brats, the lot 'o ye.” Carsten turned his eyes to Ezekiel then motioned to Casey. “What DO you see in this brainless little twat, anyway?”
“Fresh!” Casey cried.
“Well?”
Ezekiel looked between them and made an oil-glistening smirk. “He's all right,” he said.
“What? Just 'all right'?” Casey said, scoffing more.
“Now, now. I courted the mite once, too, don't forget,” Ronald said.
“'Til you went and hic! screwed every-fing up,” Carsten, apparently intoxicated, said.
At Ronald's own pout, Casey reached over and patted his hand. “Forgiven... you loud-mouthed twat.”
More laughter from Carsten, even Ronald, who blushed and waved his hand dismissively. “You were simply too good to not blather about, sweetheart,” he said.
“Speaking of blathering...” Carsten took the last bite of his meal, thumped his chest and sat back, wine glass being spun slightly in his fingers. He looked to Ezekiel and grinned like a wolf. “...Just how wild do you two lads get, eh?”
“Wild?” Ezekiel echoed.
“Mmm, if the lake on the bathroom floor I found says anything...” Ronald drifted off, cocking an eyebrow. Casey felt his face heat up.
“That gives nothing... away,” he said, pausing to collect his alcohol-drenched thoughts. “Who says it was us, both-in there??”
“The blankets were soaked, too. Give it up, dear boy,” Carsten said.
Casey groaned and shook his head as he looked to Ezekiel, who was also finishing a glass of wine. “No kissing and telling, now,” he said.
“You're absolutely NO fun,” Carsten told him. He lifted the bottle-the second he'd gotten for them, and found it almost empty. “Drat. We should send for more.”
“We don't need more, you drunkard,” Casey said.
“Says the boy who had his weight in it,” Ronald chimed in.
“Come on, now. Tonight... is about indulgence,” Carsten said.
Sighing, Casey watched as he trotted off to the phone. Every night would be about indulgence, if left up to these lads...
~*~
“Now, now, Master Tyler... it will do you no good to resist.”
Carsten nodded at Ronald's persistent badgering as he lit a cigarette. “EVERY proper English gentleman has themselves a smoke from time to time.”
Ezekiel eyed the cigarette, imported of course (Ronald's tastes required the best) and gave the boys a skeptical expression. “Why?” he asked.
“I suppose it shows sor... sorphis-tication,” Ronald replied drunkenly.
“Whhhy?” Ezekiel said again, drawling the word.
“Why ask why? Have you tried it at least?” Carsten asked.
“No. It smells awful,” Ezekiel replied.
Casey sighed and settled in closer next to his lover. “If he doesn't want to... remember, I don't smoke. All-that much, anyway.”
“You used to. Especially after...” Ronald paused, blushed and lit a match. It was brought to the end of his cigarette then extended out to Ezekiel again. “Come now. One puff.”
Still looking reluctant, Ezekiel sniffed, glared at the offending item then took it. Casey winced, feeling as if the poor boy was being corrupted. He was, of course, something which seemed to be inevitable when being around these nasty lads Casey loved. Finally, the cigarette was brought up to Ezekiel's lips and he took a tentative suck. No sooner had he breathed it in, he almost dropped the smoke on the floor when an awful sounding coughing fit exploded from his chest.
“Oh, dear,” Ronald said.
“You see? Oh, Ezekiel...” Casey said, though he couldn't help from chuckling a little as he himself shook from Ezekiel's coughing fit. The lad's face had gone beet red, and his hand waved around in front of his face to bat away the small cloud hanging there.
“T-Terr-ible,” Ezekiel said in an awful stutter.
“Wait a few moments then try again,” Ronald said.
Ezekiel recovered to give the young man a skeptical smile then moved to rest back on his elbows. Casey was moved with him, smiling wide as he moved onto his back, head resting upon Ezekiel's belly. It felt so wonderful and right when Ezekiel moved his hand to Casey's hair and ran his fingers through it, slowly, gently. “I say... we play a hic! game,” Casey said.
“Like what?” Carsten said, intrigued.
“Nothing to do with biscuits, please.”
Ezekiel's comment made them all drop their jaws; it was followed by hearty laughter. “Oh Casey, you did NOT tell him about that!” Carsten said.
“I didn't, that was... Charlie's doing.” Not wanting to dwell on that, Casey rolled his eyes and smirked. “So nasty. No. No biscuits involved.”
“What, then?” Ronald asked.
“Truth or dare!” Carsten said in a spit. Casey grinned.
“You can still read my mind.”
“What is that?” Ezekiel asked.
“It's a game, wherein you're asked to pick truth or a dare; meaning that if I ask you, 'truth or dare?', and you pick truth, I get to ask you any question I like--”
“I'd told you about this, remember?” Casey said while staring sideways at his lover. “The game where I'd told Leigh the, um-truth?”
“Oh. Yes,” Ezekiel said.
“And you MUST answer honestly, no lying,” Casey interjected. Carsten nodded.
“Exactly. Or... you take a dare. You do that, and you must do whatever I tell you to do,” he said.
Ezekiel gave him a suspicious look. “Whatever you tell me?”
“Mmhmm. We try not to be TOO embarrassing, but... it's meant for fun,” Carsten replied. “Here, I'll ask first. Um... Casey. Truth or dare.”
Chuckling, Casey said, “Truth. I'm taking the safe route with you.”
“Hah, no such thing as 'safe' in this game. Now, let me seeee...” Carsten drifted off in a drawl a moment, but soon made a slow, sly smile. “Besides fucking, what's your favorite thing to do in bed?”
Already. Casey knew he was blushing as he chuckled. “Um... well, I...” he said, then sighed. “I rather like it when I'm licked... there.”
Ronald scoffed. “Oh, be serious, you HAVE to say--”
“My arse,” Casey blurted. He narrowed his eyes at the cooing lads. “MY turn. Carsten-truth or dare?”
“Ah... dare. I'll break the ice first.”
It was Casey's turn to wear a mischievous expression. “Snog Ronnie.”
Ronald raised his eyebrows as Carsten turned to him, grinned and leaned in to complete his task. Casey knew he'd take it... or give it, really. Ronald sounded like he was enjoying it with his light moans and the widening of his mouth to receive Carsten's tongue. “Lads?” Casey said after a full minute, but they didn't stop. Instead, Ronald lowered, took the back of Carsten's neck and continued. Sighing, Casey looked up to Ezekiel. “Quick game, evidently--”
“Zekie, truth or dare?” Ronald broke away from Carsten a moment to ask, but quickly added, “Pick dare.”
Ezekiel blinked furiously then smirked. “Dare.”
“Snog Casey,” Ronald said, snorted then turned back to Carsten.
Casey turned onto his side, moved up Ezekiel's chest and shrugged. “You heard him,” he said.
Ezekiel eyed Casey a moment, smirked then took his chin to bring him up into a moist, hot kiss. 'Oh, THANK you, Ronald,' Casey thought the devious young man's way as he got to enjoy a lovely thrill, involving witnesses in this usually-private act. Ezekiel seemed to be enjoying it as well; his eyes kept opening in slits to take glances at the pair with them. It wasn't out of insecurity, Casey sensed, but an odd, friendly competition. Ezekiel wanted them to see how he worked, how he made Casey gasp and hum. Casey did just that of course, especially when Ezekiel smoothed a hand down his front to his navel. It moved even lower to the waist of Casey's breeches to flick buttons open quickly; exciting as this was, Casey giggled nervously and broke away. “None of that, lover,” he told Ezekiel. He put his hand over Ezekiel's wandering one and shook his head slowly while smiling wide.
“Mmm, why not?” Ezekiel said in a throaty voice.
“Yes, darling, why not?”
Carsten's comment made Casey look over. Before he could say, “We're keeping the clothes on, lads,” he saw that both boys had their slacks open, Carsten's hand fondling Ronald past the waist-and vice-versa. Casey scoffed. “A dreaded orgy, come on now...” he said.
“It's not like we're rutting, for goodness sake,” Ronald said, his voice light and dreamy. He was rather enjoying the attention his cock was receiving, going by the half-lidded eyes and blissful expression.
“Still, I... oh...” Casey was interrupted by Ezekiel's hand sliding past the fabric and straight to his growing shaft. Every protest Casey was planning slid away in a shot, leaving his mouth open, wordless. What COULD he say? He did, in fact, want this, was enjoying it... “B-Bother,” he murmured before returning the favor. Ezekiel stiffened but kept fondling Casey as his slacks were undone and his prick was taken into Casey's palm.
“It o-only means he's comfff... comfor... oh,” Carsten stumbled on words, giving up and giving in to the pleasure Ronald was giving him. The atmosphere grew heavy with pheromones and sexual-tension, especially when Ronald brought Carsten's cock out into the open. Casey shivered seeing the action; Carsten didn't seem to mind the exposure a bit. He hummed throatily, turned his head to the side and made a wide grin Casey's way. “Show us,” he said.
“Show...” Casey murmured, trailing off when he saw where Carsten's gaze was set. The large bulge between Ezekiel's legs was almost showing itself on its own, growing with every second that passed. Casey swallowed and bit his lip. He didn't want to push Ezekiel into 'showing off' for the boys, but the boy said nothing-he simply kept mouthing Casey's neck hungrily. Carsten's request suddenly felt like the best idea ever... let them see my lover, Casey thought as he brought him out. Ezekiel's response to his being revealed was shown in a jerk, but he didn't protest the action.
“My, my,” Ronald said in a breathy voice. “I've suddenly grown quite jealous.”
Casey smiled as he nudged Ezekiel's forehead with his chin to move his face to his again. Their kiss was immediately urgent, Ezekiel grabbing the back of Casey's head to hold tight, press them together harder. He molested the inside of Casey's mouth with wide, long swoops of his tongue, his teeth closing over his lower lip a few times before diving back in. Casey heard desperate whimpers and throaty moans; it took him a moment to realize that he was the one making them.
All bets were off now. Both couples began stripping their clothes away, no longer caring about decorum or manners. They'd never been known for them before. While no one moved to actual coupling, just the act of Casey wrapping his legs around Ezekiel's in a tight embrace was almost enough to bring him to the brink in and of itself.
~*~
A harsh, shrill ring! made Casey's eyes snap open. The room was brightly-lit, searing his brain like a fish on a pan. His head crackled and spit with flame, it seemed; it took him a moment or two to realize that the ringing was the phone. “B-Blast it,” he muttered as he sat up.
The dull, throbbing ache was immediate. Realizing that he was on the floor-that he'd slept upon it, naked besides the bedsheets tangled all around him made him crawl instead of stand. The others began stirring, more groans filling the room. “Stop it!” Ronald said in a drowsy voice just as Casey plucked the phone from its base.
“H-Hello?”
“Master Connor? This is the front desk; a Mr. and Mrs. Frank Connor are here, requesting to be sent up to your room?”
Casey straightened in a sickening jolt. “Oh-oh, y-yes, they're-allowed,” he stammered.
“Very good, then.”
The phone was all but tossed away; Casey rose to a stand and rushed over to the others. “Up! Up, up, up!” he hollered.
“Wuh...” Carsten said in a thick voice. Ronald attempted to throw his sheets over his head, but Casey grabbed them and threw them off.
“My parents are coming! UP, now!”
This gave the proper encouragement for the boys to gasp, rise and rush around for discarded clothing. Casey turned on his heels to where he'd been sleeping with Ezekiel and frowned. “Where's Ezekiel??” he said, waving his hand to the empty spot where the young man had fallen asleep. Carsten looked over and shrugged while scampering off to one of the bathrooms.
“Not my concern!” he yelled before the door was shut behind him. Casey rolled his eyes and watched as Ronald fought to get his clothing on.
“Don't you want to wash? Oh dear lord, it STINKS in here!!”
Ronald let out a bellow of a laugh, stood and forced his slacks on. “Quick, a smoke!”
It was the best idea. Casey nodded quick, took the cigarette Ronald offered and allowed him to light it. He next went to a table which held different toiletries; a small bottle of cologne was there, thank goodness. Casey splashed some upon his neck, underarms and stomach, hoping certain aromas were masked enough. “We're a complete mess,” he said with a groan.
“Oh now, your father's seen us in worse shape,” Ronald said.
Now dressed, however haphazardly, both boys did their best to straighten up the place. The nest of sheets and pillows had just been thrown back upon the beds when a knock came at the door. Hoping for the best, Casey went over to take the chain from the wall and open the room up to his mother and father. “Good m-morning!” he cheered... a little too loudly and with a shake. Mr. Connor cocked an eyebrow as he walked in, Mrs. Connor following.
“What... oh. Hello, Ronald,” Mr. Connor said.
“Hello!” the boy replied.
“Oh, dear... what HAVE you lads been up to??” Mrs. Connor turned this way and that, motioning around the room. Empty bottles were scattered about the floor, shoes lying on their sides.
“We... we had a little rowdy get-together, I'll admit it,” Casey said with another groan.
“I'd say, yes. Where's Ezekiel?” Mr. Connor asked.
“I'm... not sure, actually,” Casey tentatively replied.
“Not sure?” Mrs. Connor said with obvious concern. “What do you mean, not--”
“Oh. Hello.”
Everyone turned to the door, which had been left open; Ezekiel now stepped inside, a large paper bag in his hand. “E... Ezekiel,” Casey said in a breath. He noted that the young man was put-together perfectly, not one wrinkle in his clothing, his eyes clear of any sign that he'd drank as much as anyone the night before.
“Good morning,” he said to Mr. and Mrs. Connor, smiling.
“Goodness, Casey worried us so!” Mrs. Connor said. “He said he'd no idea where you were.”
“Oh... I went to the pastry shop across the street,” Ezekiel said. He lifted the bag and grinned. “Their scones are delicious.”
~*~
As sad as it was to bid Carsten and Ronald goodbye, Casey was more than happy to wash-up, dress and get ready for the evening's fun. His and Ezekiel's shared bathing had come to an end, of course-another thing that made Casey sigh sadly. Still, after such a busy weekend, it was nice to have the comfort and security that came with his parents' presence.
Now in the carriage leading through the city, Mr. Connor had a bright grin on his face as he spoke to Ezekiel. “You're going to love 'Wiltons', dear boy. It's only the best restaurant this side of the globe,” he said.
“Father has an unnatural love for oysters,” Mrs. Connor teased.
“As do you!”
“But I don't slurp as disgracefully as you do.”
Casey chuckled and looked to Ezekiel. “You can get lobster again... or try something new. It really IS superb,” he told him.
“Ah, and oysters come raw, something you're used to already!” Mr. Connor added, giving Ezekiel a light slap to the knee. The boy chuckled.
“Perhaps I'll try,” he replied.
Soon enough, the carriage was stopped in front of the white stone building where the restaurant sat. Mr. Connor stepped out first and held his hand out to his wife, then went to pay and tip the driver. Casey smiled as he met the sidewalk; he turned to Ezekiel, who was looking around the area. “You're in for a treat,” Casey said.
“That he is... come now, lads.” Mr. Connor took Mrs. Connor's hand and led the way.
Casey beamed as they all entered the building, finding it just as lovely and even sparkling as he remembered it. Candles were all around, on tables and hanging from the ceiling on chandeliers, making the room glitter and gleam. The dark wooden furniture, from tables to chairs to huge bar area made the atmosphere calm, soothing. Looking to the far end of the place, Casey grinned and tugged Ezekiel's sleeve. “Piano,” he said of the set-up where an older gentleman was playing a Beethoven piece.
“Very nice,” Ezekiel said.
“Well, well!” A man stepped out from behind the greeter's station and approached, going to Mr. Connor specifically. “If it isn't my good friend Franklin!”
“Hah, good evening, William!” Mr. Connor said as they shook hands.
“A good evening indeed. It's been some time since I've seen you... ah,” William moved on to Mrs. Connor with a broad grin. He took her hand, gave it a light kiss and said, “Looking stunning as always, dear Meredith.”
“Oh, now...” Mrs. Connor said, though she made a wide smile and blushed.
“Delighted, of course. And-no, that is not Casey. It can't be,” William said. “Good god, lad; last I saw you, you were barely out of nappies!”
With Casey not having an inkling of memory when it came to this man, he could only chuckle and accept the man's handshake. “Yes, I daresay-it's me,” he said.
“And I'm sure you've caught wind of our newest addition to the family,” Mr. Connor said, motioning to Ezekiel. “Ezekiel Tyler, my friend, William Miller.”
“Of course I've heard of this fine young man,” William said. He gave him a handshake as well. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Ezekiel.”
“Thank you,” Ezekiel replied.
“I must admit; Adam had come by and said you'd be in the city, so I knew I'd be seeing you here. We're still your favorite restaurant, I assume,” William said to Mr. Connor, who laughed.
“Yes, nothing's changed,” he said.
“Allow me to seat you myself,” William said with a gracious wave of his arm.
The family filed past the rows of booths and groups of tables, gaining a few looks as they passed. Once again, Casey noticed a few young women staring away, some with obvious recognition in their faces. They remained cordial, however, no one leaping up to get a good look at the 'savage' among them. When they reached the table William directed them to, Casey was pleased to see that they were close to the piano; going by Ezekiel's eyes set on the instrument, he was happy, as well.
“Now then, what will we be having for drinks?” William asked as he passed menus out.
“A nice bottle of red-your choice,” Mr. Connor replied.
“And some water,” Casey said. “Just water.”
“Excellent; I'll send for them,” William said. He gave them another wide grin before setting off to put their drink orders in.
“Just water? No wine?” Mr. Connor asked, a teasing smirk on his face.
“We had enough of that last night,” Casey replied. He opened his menu, though he had an idea of what he wanted. With the effects of too-much-wine dwindling away and his barely-there breakfast of a scone and tea being the only meal he'd enjoyed thus far today, he nodded at the 'Beef' section he stared at. “A good, solid steak should be perfect,” he said.
“Steak?” Ezekiel inquired.
“Oh, yes. We haven't had that at home, have we? Honestly, it's right up your alley.” Casey leaned in and flipped Ezekiel's menu open to the meat section. “I'd say a nice, thick cut of filet mignon would make your night.”
“It's beef. We've had beef?” Ezekiel said. Mr. Connor chuckled.
“Not this beef, dear boy. I agree with Casey; you'll love it.”
Nodding slowly, Ezekiel smiled. “I'll try it, then.”
The wine and waters soon arrived, their impeccably-dressed waiter pouring with a smile-and an obvious stare to the 'man of the hour', of course. Still, he remained professional as he listed off the specials. “Thank you; we decided already,” Mr. Connor said. He gave his wife's order first of salmon with herbed rice, his usual of oysters (“A double-order, if you please,”) with the house salad and the boys' steaks, which came with a potato mash of their choices.
“Sweet potatoes, for both, please,” Casey had answered, and the man was on his way. Smiling, Casey leaned back and sighed, sipping his water with a genteel hand. “Thank you for taking the family out, Father.”
“You're welcome. We couldn't come to London and not visit our old haunt,” Mr. Connor said, giving Mrs. Connor's hand a squeeze before raising his glass. “To the Connor and Tyler families' good fortune.”
They all toasted to that then sipped, each face wearing a smile. Mrs. Connor made a low hum then leaned forward. “So now TELL us more about what in the world happened yesterday? We saw it in the papers already on the way to the hotel!”
“Yes, details, pronto,” Mr. Connor chimed in.
The retelling of events came with a touch of drama, of course; Ezekiel blushed the whole way, especially when Casey described his lifting the carriage as a 'miracle of brute strength and agility'. “He can tell a tale, can't he?” Ezekiel muttered bashfully.
“Well? It's true! Herbert doesn't have to rely on his usual brand of madness, the story is more dramatic than any newspaper could possibly report,” Casey said. “Oh, if you two had been there...”
“Erm... pardon me, but...”
The family turned to the aisle next to their table, where a young woman was standing. She seemed struck by something-or someone, going by where her gaze was set. “Are you... Ezekiel, the... the boy found in... in the jungle?” she asked in a meek, timid voice.
“Yes,” Ezekiel replied.
She made a visible shiver, lips parted. “I... I read today's edition of the Daily Mail. The story was... it was astounding. I...” she paused, clearing her throat an trying to smile. “I hope I don't look rude. I... I'd just wanted to greet you, welcome... you to our country properly.”
Ezekiel made a cordial nod. “Thank you. Your... name?”
“Oh! Ca... Caroline.” She looked flustered now, like a girl in love. Casey fought to keep his smile on as she made a small curtsy. Perhaps not to look rude, she looked to everyone else, smiling. “It's a pleasure to meet you, and the family. I'll... go back to my table. My friends are waiting.”
Mr. Connor's smile was telling, while Mrs. Connor's lips were in a thin, white line, eyes set on the table. “My oh my,” she said.
“A bold lass, isn't she?” Casey remarked. He watched as she reached the table on the other side of the dining room, where two other young ladies sat. They immediately leaned in and began chattering wildly, most likely asking Caroline for juicy details-not that she had any to give.
“Once you become a real, tried-and-true man of England-oh, you poor lad,” Mr. Connor said, chuckling a little. “The female attentions will only get more and more intense as the days go on, I fear.”
“Let's hope not.” Casey hadn't meant to make his voice so gritty; he worried for a moment, wondering if he'd given anything away in his show of distaste. The quick, odd look he received from his father made him turn away, fighting for a subject change. The perfect one came to light, urging him to say, “So tomorrow, what should we expect?”
“Ah, at the courts, yes,” Mr. Connor took a quick sip of wine then leaned in to discuss, “We'll be meeting with Adam at a cafe an hour before we're to report. He's told me that everything should be in order; what will happen is, at nine o'clock, we'll be--”
“Pardon me.”
Another interruption. Casey gritted his teeth and looked to his right again. Instead of a blushing, stammering girl, he was surprised to find a large, stout gentleman standing there, his broad grin decorated by a thick mustache. He wore a classic, large top-hat, which he lifted from his head in greeting. “I'm sorry to bother you fine folks,” he said. That was the next surprise; his American accent made everyone sit up straighter.
“Erm... hello,” Mr. Connor said.
“My name's Jacob Billings-JB, for short,” he said. “I can only assume that you're the Connor family?”
“Um, yes. A pleasure,” Mr. Connor replied, standing up for a moment to shake his hand. JB took the offer, using a little more force than was warranted. Casey saw it in his father's clenching jaw before he pulled away and sat down again. “What can we do for you this evening?”
“Well, this happens to be a right-fine stroke of luck, for me. I'd wondered how to get in contact with you, regarding a business proposition.”
Casey looked between them all, confused. Caroline had been a cooing, resting baby compared to this brash fellow. “Business?” he echoed.
“Mmm.” The man hummed then turned his sights on Ezekiel. “It has to do with your new charge, Zeke.”
Ezekiel blinked furiously and looked to Mr. Connor with deep question in his eyes. “Zeke?” he said. Mr. Connor sniffed and raised his eyebrows.
“He means you,” he said, then turned back to JB to say, “We just ordered our dinner, and I'm not sure we're in the mood to talk business with a stranger.”
“Ah, but I'm sure you've heard of us.” JB reached into his fine suit-jacket and produced a card. He held it out to Mr. Connor, who took it and gave it a scrutinizing stare. “I'm the owner of 'J.B.'s World of Wonder', an international entertainment company. We're currently on our European tour, and if I say so myself--”
“We're not interested,” Mr. Connor said with sudden, expected force, going so far as to toss the card on the table toward JB. The mustachioed man only smiled wider.
“You say this before you know what kind of money we're willing to pay?”
“I am retired Royal Navy, I have no need for your offers. If you'd done more research, you would have known that.”
JB's smile faded, but only a little. “That's all well-and-good for you, but I'm not asking for YOUR services. If I may borrow Zeke for a moment or two--”
“Do I have to call the owner and have you escorted from our table, Sir?” Mr. Connor interrrupted. The tension mounted as JB rolled his tongue around on the inside of his cheek, looking from Mr. Connor to Ezekiel a few times. Then, with a sigh, he tipped his hat again.
“Thank you for your time,” JB said. He sauntered off at a slow pace, waving his ornate cane back and forth as he went. Casey stared after him, confused beyond reason.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
Mr. Connor took the card JB hadn't bothered to take back and gave it to Casey. “This... is what that was about.”
Casey took it and read. His face felt hot: J.B.'s World of Wonder: The #1 Circus In The World!
~*~
“But... they have elephants?”
Casey felt tired; no matter how many details as to what JB had offered, Ezekiel was still stuck on the animal acts provided by his and most carnival acts. “Yes, Ezekiel,” Casey said as he went from the sink to the towels, drying his hands and face. He was more than glad to be back at their hotel, away from nosy busybodies and shady circus-men-even if now, technically, the suite was being shared with his parents. It was big enough to be close to Ezekiel, but not as close as they'd gotten used to the last few nights. At the moment, he was looking back at Ezekiel, who stood in the bathroom doorway, already changed for bed, curiosity in his eyes. “It's... not what you think.”
“How do they get the elephants... here, I mean? They don't come from here,” Ezekiel said.
“No. I...” Casey had no idea as to how to explain this. He lifted his arms and let them down in a slap; as he passed Ezekiel to head into their bedroom area, he said, “...They probably go to Africa, or parts of Asia and bring them here on boats, trucks... whatever form of transportation.”
“They're hunted,” Ezekiel said in sudden realization. Casey made a sad nod.
“I'd say so, yes.”
Ezekiel went to one of the beds and sat down upon it while Casey chose his nightclothes. He lifted his head to say something, but fell quiet... looked back down, went into deep thought... “How do they hunt them, and... bring them here?” he asked finally.
While Casey wasn't a hunting expert or worked in a zoo, he knew enough. Instead of throwing his clothes off and redressing in his silk pajamas, he shuffled over to the other bed and sat to face Ezekiel. “From what I know, they use what's called tranquilizers, a kind of... drug that makes an animal unconscious,” he said.
“Uncon...?”
“It's a kind of sleep, a forced one. It doesn't kill the poor beast, but it knocks them out cold. How they actually get... a large animal and move them around, I couldn't say. It takes a lot of men and machinery, I'd suppose,” Casey explained. “Then... they're brought to whatever zoo or traveling carnival, trained... Ezekiel, it's-it's not...”
Ezekiel stared at Casey; he seemed to understand enough, going by his deepening, thoughtful gaze. “Are they hurt?” he asked next.
“I don't know. I know that they use some force, especially... to train. Whips are used, sometimes they're chained... I've seen it myself, when I was a child and Charlie's parents took us to a circus.”
“Then yes. They're hurt,” Ezekiel said.
Maybe it was a human's guilt, wanting to think that elephants and other creatures had thick skin an didn't feel the blows. But Casey's reasonable side knew better, making him nod. “My father has never been fond of that business. You saw it yourself, with how he reacted to JB,” Casey said. “It's not just because of what-he was implying, meaning with you, but circuses in general. Father's well-traveled enough to know the natural world, and how man has meddled with it.”
“Why did he want to... do business, with me?”
“God,” Casey murmured. They hadn't covered that yet. With how Mr. Connor had told the family they'd not speak of JB's rudeness any longer and 'enjoy their fine meals', despite the uneasiness JB had brought upon them, it was now up to Casey to explain. “I've no doubt that JB and his company... would have loved to have you as part of their... show.”
“Show?” Ezekiel asked.
“It's not hard to understand, really. They specialize with exotic animals, elephants... jungle creatures. To them, that's what you are. That's why I'd love to track that bastard down and pop him one, right on the mouth.” Casey stood quick and went to the dressing screen. A mix of anger and sorrow began piling up, making his movements hasty as he undressed. “I'm sorry, Ezekiel-I'm so sorry you had to deal with that rudeness.”
“Well... I'm supposed to have gone on elephant rides, according to the paper's story. So...”
Was Ezekiel chuckling? Casey looked over the screen and indeed found a smirk on the young man's face. “What they would have done was exploit you, make you out to be a dirty animal. Who knows, perhaps if you tried disagreeing with them during their 'training' you, you'd be given a whipping!” Casey retorted.
Ezekiel's smile faded at that. He looked away and sniffed. “I was trying to make joke. A joke. Be funny.”
“I... oh, Ezekiel,” Casey said. He finally finished getting his slacks' ties done and he came around the screen, going straight over to where Ezekiel sat. “I'm not angry with you. I'm sorry, I'm really not. I'm angry at anyone who would look at you and think you're nothing but a jungle freak-show. That's what it's called: a freak-show, where they put people on display, people who are... it's... it's wrong, and anyone who would try to make you a part of it needs a bloody lip.”
Raising his eyebrows, Ezekiel looked to Casey. “He made you very angry,” he said.
“Yes. He did.”
“Mmm.” Ezekiel hummed and turned to face Casey; he put their foreheads together and an odd smile tickled one corner of his lips. “I wouldn't have gone, so you know.”
“I know. Still, it's-”
“And I don't have to care or worry about what anyone wants to think. Of me,” Ezekiel interrupted to say. “I'm learning that, because of you. Don't be so angry. Please. It doesn't matter, none of it.”
Casey stilled and relaxed, feeling Ezekiel's warm, moist breath wash over his cheeks and lips. “Do... you care what I think?” Casey asked. At Ezekiel's soft nod moving Casey with him, Casey swallowed and stole a gentle kiss from his lips. “I think... you're remarkable. Beautiful.”
Ezekiel closed his eyes, smiled wider and stole his kiss back. “Do I... love you well?”
“You mean, are you a great lover?” Casey said in a murmur and light chuckle. Ezekiel's cheeks went pink, obviously insecure at his bungling words. Casey reassured him that this wasn't an issue at all in sneaking a hand to Ezekiel's shoulder. He let it travel up to Ezekiel's neck, up further to just behind his ear where his fingers made light presses. “You complete me,” Casey whispered, nuzzling their noses together. “Utterly and always, you--”
“Knock, knock!”
Mrs. Connor's loud voice and rapping on the door connecting their suites made both boys leap in their seats and move away from each other. Casey jumped to a stand and went to the other bed. “Y-Yes?” Casey called out. “Come in!”
The woman opened the door and stepped in. Her smile was tired but wide as she looked upon them, clad in her favorite thick, red robe, long flowing nightdress and nightcap. “Your father and I are going to bed; he's already on his way to dreamland,” she said. “I'm here to pretend you're both little children and tuck you in for the night.”
Casey chuckled, rolled his eyes then turned to Ezekiel. He blinked wildly, wondering if his father had told her of their usual 'sleeping arrangements'. “We usually sleep in the same bed. Ezekiel's most comfortable that way,” he said, as casually as he could make it sound.
“That makes my job easier then,” Mrs. Connor replied. She clapped twice. “Into bed with you, then.”
No matter the guilt in having to hide what was really happening between them, Casey was fine in indulging the woman's motherly wishes. He climbed under the covers, Ezekiel following; they took a side, careful to not look TOO cozy. Mrs. Connor smiled warmly as she went to Ezekiel's side first; the sheets and thick blankets were placed around him, tucking him in tight. After placing a kiss upon the young man's forehead, she moved to Casey's side, repeating the tucking-in procedure. “Good night, sleep tight,” she said after giving her son a kiss as well. To finish, she went to the lamp by the windows, turned it off and went back to the opened doorway.
“Goodnight, mother,” Casey said, making his voice child-like. The woman giggled.
“How you tease,” she said.
“Good night... mother,” Ezekiel also said.
“Oh.” Mrs. Connor bit her lip, blew them a kiss each then left, closing the door behind her. Now in the dark, still silence, Casey made a light snort of amusement.
“If she had her way, I'd be back in nappies being fed mushy peas,” he said.
“She's a mother,” Ezekiel replied. He turned onto his side, moving closer to Casey. He put a hand under the covers and onto Casey's chest, right over his heart. “She always will be.”
“Mmm... she's your second mother, in a way... which, well...” Casey turned as well, chuckling more. “...Makes things a little strange. Wonderful. But strange.”
“Are you tired?” Ezekiel asked.
“Mmm...” Casey hummed, again. He moved in tight to nestle himself against Ezekiel's chest. “...If my parents weren't mere yards away, I wouldn't be. Since they are... good night.”
It was Ezekiel's turn to chuckle a little; he wrapped his arms around Casey and pulled him into a soft, gentle embrace. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you, too,” Casey said, the words spoken over Zeke's heart, where they belonged.