Trials, Temptation and Triumph - Ch 8.4 (Charlie/Shark, NC-17)
In which Charlie considers the differences between Rory and Tuomi.
For introduction and warnings go here
8.4 - Differences
Monday 26th January 2004, 7am
The alarm went off at seven, the harsh tone causing Charlie to frown and burrow his head under the pillow. He'd already been awake for some minutes, but that didn't make the alarm any less ear-splitting.
This waking early was getting to be far too much of a habit, he thought to himself, even when it wasn't the methadone withdrawal that pulled him out of dark dreams, or Rory snoring softly in his ear.
He smiled to himself. Funny to think that he'd complained about it often enough, and yet in the year he'd been away it had been one of the things he'd craved the most - to be woken by Rory's snoring rather than by cold or hunger or nightmares; to wake and be able to touch the man he loved.
He heard Rory snuffle and cough as he woke, and snuggled close, dropping a kiss onto a patch of warm skin that lay conveniently close to his mouth. He wished that they could lie there all day, snug and warm, just the two of them. But there was the trip to the chemist, and then Rory would go to work, and Charlie would be left on his own until Rory came home again. It was all too awful to think about, and so he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep for a few more precious moments.
Rory had other ideas, and pulled himself out of Charlie's arms to stand up. Charlie kept his eyes firmly closed and wriggled into the warmth that Rory had left behind.
"Time to get up, Charlie."
Charlie listened to Rory moving around the room and thought about getting up. He wasn't keen on the idea at all, since the room wasn't all that warm and he was naked under the duvet with a morning erection still to be dealt with. He had to get up at some stage - he had methadone to get and the doctor to visit - but there was no urgency. Maybe just a few more minutes ... it was so warm in bed ...
"Charlie, get up."
"Mmm."
He'd said that at least three times this morning already. Sooner or later Rory was going to lose patience.
"Charlie, if you don't get up now I'll drag your fucking backside out of bed and into the car just as you are."
That sounded a bit more serious, but the duvet was still warm, and the room was still cold. He heard Rory come around the bed and burrowed deeper under the covers. Perhaps, if he stayed very still, Rory wouldn't see him.
The duvet was flung back and Charlie yelped as the cold air hit him. A strong hand grasped his ankle and dragged him out of the bed, eliciting another yelp as he hit the floor. He had no time to voice a complaint, as the next thing he knew, he'd been picked up and thrown against the wall. He blinked and found himself held by the throat, nose to nose with Rory.
He should have been angry, or perhaps afraid, but instead he felt that little tingle in his gut, that thrill of being manhandled, and he shivered with anticipation. He knew that Rory felt it too: he saw the intake of breath and the green eyes glittering like emeralds. He stopped struggling and tilted his head back against the wall, keeping his eyes locked with Rory's.
"Oh yeah?" he breathed, then touched his tongue to his bottom lip, provocatively, wondering what sort of reaction it would elicit.
Rory slammed his mouth down and Charlie felt his mouth being ravaged. His erection, which had barely begun to wilt in the cold, revived immediately and he pulled Rory's hips in to press against his own. It felt so good to be held again, to be pushed and pulled without the fear of it going too far. He opened himself up to his lover in exultation.
Rory pulled him away from the wall and threw him back down on the bed. Charlie lay sprawled over the sheets, his legs splayed open and his cock standing up and swaying slightly with each breath. He kept his eyes on Rory, but reached down with one hand and gave himself a leisurely stroke, then another, trailing his fingers from base to tip and rubbing one finger over the slit.
Rory growled and shed his trousers in record time. Charlie grabbed the lubricant from the top of the bedside table and Rory grabbed a condom, and in less time than it took to count to ten Rory was pushing inside Charlie's arse, stretching and filling and thrusting and hurting him so wonderfully. It was rough and ready, forceful and demanding, and in almost no time at all Rory shuddered and climaxed. Charlie gave himself a few more strokes and spurted into his fist before letting himself relax.
Rory pulled out and rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.
"God, that was good," Charlie sighed. "It's been a long time since I've been fucked that hard."
Rory didn't say anything, just looked away, to the other side of the room. He pulled the condom off his flaccid cock and threw it in the bin, then walked through to the bathroom to clean himself up.
Charlie lay on the bed, wondering what he'd done wrong this time. Well, apart from not getting up. That was different - that was normal. This was more like Rory had been when they first got together, when he never knew what Rory was thinking.
He grabbed a tissue and wiped the mess off his skin, then hauled himself out of bed and followed Rory, who was washing himself with single-minded concentration, not letting his eyes deviate from his task. An onlooker might have thought that Rory hadn't seen Charlie come in, but Charlie knew better. Rory was ignoring him, and he had to find out why.
He put his arms around Rory's waist and kissed the back of his neck, then his shoulder. He refused to let Rory shrug him off - though Rory was more than capable of throwing him off if he really wanted to - and simply kept on pressing gentle kisses to whatever part of Rory he could reach.
Finally, he felt the tension in Rory's shoulders start to ease, and risked looking at their reflection in the mirror. Rory was looking at him with a worried, puzzled expression.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Rory took a breath, visibly gathering up the courage to say what was on his mind. "I'm sorry," he said.
"Don't be sorry. Was good."
"For before ... throwing you around."
"It's OK." Charlie smiled at the mirror image of his lover. "I liked it. I love it when you get all masterful. Though I think I bruised my bum when I landed on the floor. You're going to have to massage that for me tonight."
Rory was silent for a few seconds. His hand came up and rubbed the arm that Charlie had wrapped around his waist. "I thought you said you didn't like it. The other guy tried to control you and you hated it."
"Eh? That was different."
"Don't see how."
Charlie looked at Rory's reflection, seeing the tense and unhappy expression. "Have you been holding back all this time because I told you about Tuomi?" When Rory didn't answer, Charlie gave and exasperated laugh. "You great numptie. It's totally different."
"I forced you. He forced you. How is that different?"
"Well, it is." He thought about it for a moment. "I can't explain it. I know why, I just can't put it into words." He shrugged. "It just is."
His stomach growled, and they grinned. "I think I'd better get showered and dressed and have some breakfast before we go out."
Rory turned around and sniffed him. "You'd better. Stinky boy." He sounded a little more normal, and Charlie laughed.
"And whose fault is that? You're the one who pounced on me. I didn't stand a chance. Scout's honour." He smiled and kissed Rory earnestly on the mouth. "And, just so we're absolutely crystal clear, I like being pounced on by you."
Rory smiled - almost shyly, thought Charlie. "You do?"
"I do. And if you ever hurt me, I’ll tell you. I promise."
Rory nodded. Charlie looked at him closely, but he didn't seem too defensive - no more than usual, anyway, so he continued, "And you have to tell me if I hurt you."
Rory looked up, surprised.
"You're so ... secretive about things. I still don't know what you're thinking half the time. You have to open up a bit, let me in, tell me how you feel."
Rory nodded again.
"So," he gave a sly smile, "why don't you come back to bed? I'll clean myself up and then I'll give you a backrub."
Rory shook his head. "I have to take you to the chemist."
"Bugger. Almost had you," Charlie pouted, but only half-seriously - he hadn't really expected Rory to forget.
"You can have me tonight, instead."
"Really?" Charlie felt his face light up, saw it reflected in Rory's eyes, and tightened his arms. He never liked to ask, he never wanted to push Rory into doing something he wasn't comfortable with, but he loved it when Rory offered to bottom. "God, I'm getting hard already."
"No time, Charlie. Get yourself into the shower." Rory gave him a swat on the backside and Charlie grinned. Another disaster averted. They were getting almost good at this communicating stuff.
* * *
Later, after Rory had taken dropped him back home with the daily paper and a couple of magazines to read, he thought about what had happened that morning. The difference between the two men was huge, even if he couldn't explain it adequately. It wasn't just that he was in love with Rory and he'd never been in love with Tuomi. He'd slept with a fair few guys during the years, both before he'd met Rory and during the year they'd been apart. He'd had good sex and bad sex and sex he'd barely noticed. He'd topped and he'd bottomed and he'd sucked cocks and been sucked in turn. He'd even fucked women, a couple of times, when the girls had been crawling all over him, and it had been too much effort to say no.
The fans had wanted him because he was a rock star. Rory had wanted him because he loved him. Tuomi ... Tuomi was different. Tuomi hadn't wanted him at all, not really, he'd just wanted a fuck and Charlie had been there and hadn't objected. Not the first time, anyway. After Tuomi had found him and accused him of stealing, he hadn't had the option.
When Rory had taken him for a month, it was because Rory had wanted him desperately and the arrangement had merely been a cover story so that he could keep Charlie close to him. Not that he had ever admitted as much, of course, but Charlie had sensed it; had known instinctively that there was a strong mutual attraction, and he'd been right.
When Tuomi had taken him for a month, it had been punishment and degradation, pure and simple. All Tuomi had cared about was controlling him, humiliating him and hurting him. He'd enjoyed having a fuck-toy that he could use and abuse without fear of complaint or consequence. There had been no care or affection on either side.
When Rory exerted his control, Charlie knew that there was a reason for it, and even when he didn't agree with it, he knew it was there and most of the time he knew what it was. Rory didn't order him about for the fun of it. He had never done that, even when Charlie had been his rent boy - every order, every action had a purpose, a goal. Even the violence that Rory had used in his job was just enough for the purpose of extracting money from defaulting clients. Rory didn't enjoy pain or suffering for its own sake.
Tuomi was different.
Tuomi had been a sadistic bastard. He enjoyed pain for its own sake. Charlie should have seen that, should have sensed it, but he hadn't, and because of that he'd been raped and beaten and if he hadn't had the good luck to escape he'd be well and truly dead by now.
He shuddered, and decided that he'd had enough of sitting and thinking. He put the radio on and started singing along as he changed the sheets and put a load of laundry in the washing machine. He'd think about it again later, if he had to.
* * *
When Rory got home, Charlie was busy adding dumplings to the beef casserole that had been cooking slowly during the afternoon. The delicious smell filled the flat, and he smiled as Rory sniffed the air appreciatively.
"Hello beautiful," said Charlie, leaning into Rory's kiss. "I thought you might like something warm for dinner."
"Mmm," Rory nuzzled at his neck, "I think you may be right."
"It'll be about fifteen minutes if you want to go up and change."
"Aye, I will."
He watched Rory's delectable backside leave the room, and then put the plates in to warm.
Rory was back in just a few minutes, in tracksuit pants and a sweater, a glass of whisky in his hand. He sat down at the small table while Charlie put the vegetables in the microwave and set out the cutlery. It didn't take long to serve, and then there was an appreciative silence as they did justice to the meal.
"That was good," Rory mumbled as he mopped up the last of the gravy with a slice of bread.
Charlie gave him an amused look. "I think I'm going to have to start making you a packed lunch every morning."
Rory shook his head. "I had lunch. Was just hungry."
"Just as well there's some apple pie left from yesterday then."
Rory nodded. "I like your pies."
"I know you do." He dropped a kiss on his lover's cheek as he cleared away the plates. "Go and sit in the warm and I'll bring it through."
Rory left, and Charlie prepared the apple pie, along with tea for Rory and coffee for himself, taking them through to the living room. Rory was skimming through the TV guide, but there was nothing that they particularly wanted to watch, so Charlie broached the topic that been held over from the morning.
"I spent most of the day thinking," he began.
Rory faced closed over. "About what happened this morning?"
"Yes." Charlie paused, not sure how to go on. "I'm still not sure I've got it right, and I don't know that I can put it into words, not properly."
"Maybe you don't need to, then."
"No, I do. It's important to me."
Rory sipped his tea and waited.
Charlie took a couple of minutes to marshal his thoughts. "You care about me," he said, eventually. "It doesn't matter whether it's fast or slow, rough or gentle. I know you love me and you care what happens to me."
Rory nodded and set his cup down.
"And I love you too, in case you were wondering," Charlie added with a grin, tilting Rory's chin up and dropping a kiss his lips.
"That's good," Rory smiled at him, and Charlie was tempted to abandon the conversation and drag him upstairs to bed right now. But that would just put things off and he wanted to get this over with.
"Tuomi didn't care about me at all, except to hurt me. He really got off on seeing me in pain, seeing me helpless. He's a heartless bastard, you know. I sort of sensed that the first time I met him, but I just wanted a good fuck, I didn't think it mattered."
"Did he hurt you the first time?"
"No ... he wasn't gentle, but then I didn't want gentle. And it was in a club, and people had seen us chatting, so it wasn't like he could do much." He shrugged. "I knew there was a risk when he offered me a place to stay, but I was pretty desperate, and I figured I could always leave if I didn't like it. I thought I could handle him if he got too rough. Even when he was angry, when he told me I owed him, I thought it would be manageable. I didn't count on being tied up in a locked room."
He shivered at the memory, and was grateful for Rory's arms around him. Rory was his one constant, his anchor, his support and his reason for living, and he was pathetically grateful that he had been given a second chance to be happy with him.
Something of the sort must have shown in his face, because Rory was looking concerned.
"It's all right," he said, "I'm fine now, really."
"You're safe with me, you know that."
"I know. I do, I really feel safe with you. I always felt safe with you - well, maybe not the first week or so, but after that, yeah."
"I'm sorry." Rory looked a bit uncomfortable at the mention of that first month together.
Charlie laughed. "It's all right. It just took us a while to stop pretending we didn't like each other."
Rory smiled. "I wanted you the first moment I saw you, you know."
"Really?"
"Really. It's never happened to me before."
"I wanted you too." There was a long pause while Charlie straddled Rory's hips and kissed him thoroughly. Finally he broke off. "Look, that's what I've been trying to say. You wanted me, you cared about me, right from the very beginning. And I know you hit me once or twice, but it wasn't like you got a thrill out of it. It was just business."
Rory looked uncomfortable. "Last year wasn't business," he said in a low voice.
"What?" Charlie had a moment of confusion until he remembered the violent argument they'd had the night he'd walked put. "Oh, that. That was different, too. I know I said some fucking awful things to you. I'm sorry about that. But I'm not blaming you for losing your temper. Fuck, I lose mine often enough."
He kissed Rory again. "I love it when you're gentle with me, I do. But I also love it when you're a bit wild, like this morning. It's all good."
Rory looked only slightly reassured, and Charlie tried again. "With you ... with you I know that you see me - Charlie - and you're doing things to me because it's going to feel really good for both of us. And even when you're being rough you're always careful not to damage me. I never have to worry about that when I'm with you. And ... and I know if I asked you to, you'd stop, only I never need to."
Charlie took one of Rory's hands and kissed the palm. "Seriously, love, when I'm with you I always feel safe. You care about me. It doesn't matter if you're a bit forceful, I know you don't ever intend to hurt me. I trust you. Yeah, that's it ... I trust you. I never trusted him. I never felt safe with him."
"You trust me."
"Yes, I trust you."
They looked at each other, and Charlie sensed vaguely that they'd said something more significant than the words suggested. He looked down into Rory's face, seeing the slightly puzzled look there. He ran his thumb gently over Rory's lips, watching as they relaxed and then parted. He bent his head and kissed them, trying to show Rory how much he loved him.
The kiss deepened, and Charlie felt his cock straining against his jeans. He was pressing against Rory's groin, feeling the answering response there, and not even the thought of taking Rory upstairs and fucking him could make him pull away. He was lost in the pleasure of the moment, and Rory was his universe.
It was Rory who broke the kiss, strong Rory, clever Rory, his wonderful and masterful lover. He pushed Charlie away and stood up. "Bed. Now," he said, his eyes dark with lust and passion, his lips swollen, his cheeks flushed.
Charlie had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. He clambered to his feet but couldn't walk past his lover, instead claiming another kiss, and then another.
It was Rory who manoeuvred them through the door and up the stairs, and Rory who managed to get Charlie undressed before he even realised that he was naked. He came to some semblance of consciousness when Rory stepped back to remove his own clothing, and watched as his lover's body was revealed to him.
Rory stepped out of his track pants and pushed Charlie down onto the bed, covering him with his own body and kissing him with a passion that matched Charlie's own, until Charlie remembered that he was supposed to be topping and rolled them both over so that he was looking down at Rory's face.
"You remember what you said this morning?" he asked.
Rory nodded.
Charlie smiled down at him. "I want you so much," he whispered, dropping soft kisses onto Rory's neck and shoulders.
"You have me," Rory whispered back.
Charlie reached into the drawer for lubricant and a condom, setting them beside Rory's hips, and then started a thorough and methodical exploration of Rory's body, kissing and caressing every inch that he could reach. Every sense was intoxicated - he could smell Rory's scent, growing stronger as he became aroused; he could hear the catch of breath when he touched a sensitive spot; he could taste the faint salt and tang of Rory's sweat when he licked the pale skin of his abdomen; he could see Rory laid out before him, responding to every touch; and he could feel Rory yielding to him as he opened his legs and inserted a lube-coated finger inside.
He took his time, making sure that Rory was fully stretched, before he reached for the condom and rolled it over his cock, which was so hard by now it was almost aching.
"On your back or on your front?" he asked.
"On my front."
Charlie grabbed a pillow and turned him over, making sure that he was comfortable and taking the opportunity to place a few kisses over the small of his back and each of his delightfully-rounded buttocks, before applying more lube to his cock. He knelt between Rory's thighs and placed his cock at the entrance, rubbing the tip over the puckered skin until they were both panting.
"Come on," breathed Rory, pushing back. "I want this."
Charlie needed no further encouragement, and pushed forward, broaching his lover with care, easing himself in slowly until he was fully buried, his balls touching Rory's and his chest almost flat against Rory's back.
"You feel so fucking good," he groaned.
Rory's response was an inarticulate moan as Charlie began to move, gently easing back and pushing in. He could feel the head of his cock brushing over Rory's prostate, and tried his hardest to keep the rhythm steady, wanting to please Rory, wanting to make this the best lovemaking that Rory had ever had.
He adjusted his position slightly, trying to ease the muscles that were threatening to cramp up, and increased the speed of his thrusts. Rory was moaning audibly now, and his hips were rising as he sought more and more sensation. Charlie pulled him up onto his knees and started to thrust hard and fast. Rory's hand reached down to pump his cock and Charlie increased his speed, hoping strongly that his own orgasm would hold off long enough for him to bring Rory to his climax.
Suddenly Rory's movements became more frantic, Charlie made a few last, desperate thrusts, and then he felt, almost unbelievably, Rory clenching rhythmically around his cock. It was enough to drive him over the edge and his orgasm exploded through him, overwhelming him. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through his body, until he collapsed, exhausted, over the body of his lover.
It was several minutes before either of them could move, and then Charlie pulled out, slowly and reluctantly. He remembered to take off the condom, then lay down at Rory's side, putting an arm over him and kissing the nearest bit of skin, which happened to be his shoulder.
Rory turned his head and smiled at him, looking sated and sleepy. "That was good," he managed to whisper. "Should do that more often."
"You won't get any argument from me." Charlie grinned. He wondered, fleetingly, if the intensity of their lovemaking had been related to the discussions they'd had. Maybe there was a practical benefit to being open and honest with each other? He wasn't sure, but it was worth exploring further.
Rory pulled the pillow out from under his hips and threw it on the floor. Charlie reached for the bedcovers at their feet. They snuggled down together, Charlie resting his head on Rory's shoulder, and were soon asleep.
Chapter 8.5
For introduction and warnings go here
8.4 - Differences
Monday 26th January 2004, 7am
The alarm went off at seven, the harsh tone causing Charlie to frown and burrow his head under the pillow. He'd already been awake for some minutes, but that didn't make the alarm any less ear-splitting.
This waking early was getting to be far too much of a habit, he thought to himself, even when it wasn't the methadone withdrawal that pulled him out of dark dreams, or Rory snoring softly in his ear.
He smiled to himself. Funny to think that he'd complained about it often enough, and yet in the year he'd been away it had been one of the things he'd craved the most - to be woken by Rory's snoring rather than by cold or hunger or nightmares; to wake and be able to touch the man he loved.
He heard Rory snuffle and cough as he woke, and snuggled close, dropping a kiss onto a patch of warm skin that lay conveniently close to his mouth. He wished that they could lie there all day, snug and warm, just the two of them. But there was the trip to the chemist, and then Rory would go to work, and Charlie would be left on his own until Rory came home again. It was all too awful to think about, and so he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep for a few more precious moments.
Rory had other ideas, and pulled himself out of Charlie's arms to stand up. Charlie kept his eyes firmly closed and wriggled into the warmth that Rory had left behind.
"Time to get up, Charlie."
Charlie listened to Rory moving around the room and thought about getting up. He wasn't keen on the idea at all, since the room wasn't all that warm and he was naked under the duvet with a morning erection still to be dealt with. He had to get up at some stage - he had methadone to get and the doctor to visit - but there was no urgency. Maybe just a few more minutes ... it was so warm in bed ...
"Charlie, get up."
"Mmm."
He'd said that at least three times this morning already. Sooner or later Rory was going to lose patience.
"Charlie, if you don't get up now I'll drag your fucking backside out of bed and into the car just as you are."
That sounded a bit more serious, but the duvet was still warm, and the room was still cold. He heard Rory come around the bed and burrowed deeper under the covers. Perhaps, if he stayed very still, Rory wouldn't see him.
The duvet was flung back and Charlie yelped as the cold air hit him. A strong hand grasped his ankle and dragged him out of the bed, eliciting another yelp as he hit the floor. He had no time to voice a complaint, as the next thing he knew, he'd been picked up and thrown against the wall. He blinked and found himself held by the throat, nose to nose with Rory.
He should have been angry, or perhaps afraid, but instead he felt that little tingle in his gut, that thrill of being manhandled, and he shivered with anticipation. He knew that Rory felt it too: he saw the intake of breath and the green eyes glittering like emeralds. He stopped struggling and tilted his head back against the wall, keeping his eyes locked with Rory's.
"Oh yeah?" he breathed, then touched his tongue to his bottom lip, provocatively, wondering what sort of reaction it would elicit.
Rory slammed his mouth down and Charlie felt his mouth being ravaged. His erection, which had barely begun to wilt in the cold, revived immediately and he pulled Rory's hips in to press against his own. It felt so good to be held again, to be pushed and pulled without the fear of it going too far. He opened himself up to his lover in exultation.
Rory pulled him away from the wall and threw him back down on the bed. Charlie lay sprawled over the sheets, his legs splayed open and his cock standing up and swaying slightly with each breath. He kept his eyes on Rory, but reached down with one hand and gave himself a leisurely stroke, then another, trailing his fingers from base to tip and rubbing one finger over the slit.
Rory growled and shed his trousers in record time. Charlie grabbed the lubricant from the top of the bedside table and Rory grabbed a condom, and in less time than it took to count to ten Rory was pushing inside Charlie's arse, stretching and filling and thrusting and hurting him so wonderfully. It was rough and ready, forceful and demanding, and in almost no time at all Rory shuddered and climaxed. Charlie gave himself a few more strokes and spurted into his fist before letting himself relax.
Rory pulled out and rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.
"God, that was good," Charlie sighed. "It's been a long time since I've been fucked that hard."
Rory didn't say anything, just looked away, to the other side of the room. He pulled the condom off his flaccid cock and threw it in the bin, then walked through to the bathroom to clean himself up.
Charlie lay on the bed, wondering what he'd done wrong this time. Well, apart from not getting up. That was different - that was normal. This was more like Rory had been when they first got together, when he never knew what Rory was thinking.
He grabbed a tissue and wiped the mess off his skin, then hauled himself out of bed and followed Rory, who was washing himself with single-minded concentration, not letting his eyes deviate from his task. An onlooker might have thought that Rory hadn't seen Charlie come in, but Charlie knew better. Rory was ignoring him, and he had to find out why.
He put his arms around Rory's waist and kissed the back of his neck, then his shoulder. He refused to let Rory shrug him off - though Rory was more than capable of throwing him off if he really wanted to - and simply kept on pressing gentle kisses to whatever part of Rory he could reach.
Finally, he felt the tension in Rory's shoulders start to ease, and risked looking at their reflection in the mirror. Rory was looking at him with a worried, puzzled expression.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
Rory took a breath, visibly gathering up the courage to say what was on his mind. "I'm sorry," he said.
"Don't be sorry. Was good."
"For before ... throwing you around."
"It's OK." Charlie smiled at the mirror image of his lover. "I liked it. I love it when you get all masterful. Though I think I bruised my bum when I landed on the floor. You're going to have to massage that for me tonight."
Rory was silent for a few seconds. His hand came up and rubbed the arm that Charlie had wrapped around his waist. "I thought you said you didn't like it. The other guy tried to control you and you hated it."
"Eh? That was different."
"Don't see how."
Charlie looked at Rory's reflection, seeing the tense and unhappy expression. "Have you been holding back all this time because I told you about Tuomi?" When Rory didn't answer, Charlie gave and exasperated laugh. "You great numptie. It's totally different."
"I forced you. He forced you. How is that different?"
"Well, it is." He thought about it for a moment. "I can't explain it. I know why, I just can't put it into words." He shrugged. "It just is."
His stomach growled, and they grinned. "I think I'd better get showered and dressed and have some breakfast before we go out."
Rory turned around and sniffed him. "You'd better. Stinky boy." He sounded a little more normal, and Charlie laughed.
"And whose fault is that? You're the one who pounced on me. I didn't stand a chance. Scout's honour." He smiled and kissed Rory earnestly on the mouth. "And, just so we're absolutely crystal clear, I like being pounced on by you."
Rory smiled - almost shyly, thought Charlie. "You do?"
"I do. And if you ever hurt me, I’ll tell you. I promise."
Rory nodded. Charlie looked at him closely, but he didn't seem too defensive - no more than usual, anyway, so he continued, "And you have to tell me if I hurt you."
Rory looked up, surprised.
"You're so ... secretive about things. I still don't know what you're thinking half the time. You have to open up a bit, let me in, tell me how you feel."
Rory nodded again.
"So," he gave a sly smile, "why don't you come back to bed? I'll clean myself up and then I'll give you a backrub."
Rory shook his head. "I have to take you to the chemist."
"Bugger. Almost had you," Charlie pouted, but only half-seriously - he hadn't really expected Rory to forget.
"You can have me tonight, instead."
"Really?" Charlie felt his face light up, saw it reflected in Rory's eyes, and tightened his arms. He never liked to ask, he never wanted to push Rory into doing something he wasn't comfortable with, but he loved it when Rory offered to bottom. "God, I'm getting hard already."
"No time, Charlie. Get yourself into the shower." Rory gave him a swat on the backside and Charlie grinned. Another disaster averted. They were getting almost good at this communicating stuff.
* * *
Later, after Rory had taken dropped him back home with the daily paper and a couple of magazines to read, he thought about what had happened that morning. The difference between the two men was huge, even if he couldn't explain it adequately. It wasn't just that he was in love with Rory and he'd never been in love with Tuomi. He'd slept with a fair few guys during the years, both before he'd met Rory and during the year they'd been apart. He'd had good sex and bad sex and sex he'd barely noticed. He'd topped and he'd bottomed and he'd sucked cocks and been sucked in turn. He'd even fucked women, a couple of times, when the girls had been crawling all over him, and it had been too much effort to say no.
The fans had wanted him because he was a rock star. Rory had wanted him because he loved him. Tuomi ... Tuomi was different. Tuomi hadn't wanted him at all, not really, he'd just wanted a fuck and Charlie had been there and hadn't objected. Not the first time, anyway. After Tuomi had found him and accused him of stealing, he hadn't had the option.
When Rory had taken him for a month, it was because Rory had wanted him desperately and the arrangement had merely been a cover story so that he could keep Charlie close to him. Not that he had ever admitted as much, of course, but Charlie had sensed it; had known instinctively that there was a strong mutual attraction, and he'd been right.
When Tuomi had taken him for a month, it had been punishment and degradation, pure and simple. All Tuomi had cared about was controlling him, humiliating him and hurting him. He'd enjoyed having a fuck-toy that he could use and abuse without fear of complaint or consequence. There had been no care or affection on either side.
When Rory exerted his control, Charlie knew that there was a reason for it, and even when he didn't agree with it, he knew it was there and most of the time he knew what it was. Rory didn't order him about for the fun of it. He had never done that, even when Charlie had been his rent boy - every order, every action had a purpose, a goal. Even the violence that Rory had used in his job was just enough for the purpose of extracting money from defaulting clients. Rory didn't enjoy pain or suffering for its own sake.
Tuomi was different.
Tuomi had been a sadistic bastard. He enjoyed pain for its own sake. Charlie should have seen that, should have sensed it, but he hadn't, and because of that he'd been raped and beaten and if he hadn't had the good luck to escape he'd be well and truly dead by now.
He shuddered, and decided that he'd had enough of sitting and thinking. He put the radio on and started singing along as he changed the sheets and put a load of laundry in the washing machine. He'd think about it again later, if he had to.
* * *
When Rory got home, Charlie was busy adding dumplings to the beef casserole that had been cooking slowly during the afternoon. The delicious smell filled the flat, and he smiled as Rory sniffed the air appreciatively.
"Hello beautiful," said Charlie, leaning into Rory's kiss. "I thought you might like something warm for dinner."
"Mmm," Rory nuzzled at his neck, "I think you may be right."
"It'll be about fifteen minutes if you want to go up and change."
"Aye, I will."
He watched Rory's delectable backside leave the room, and then put the plates in to warm.
Rory was back in just a few minutes, in tracksuit pants and a sweater, a glass of whisky in his hand. He sat down at the small table while Charlie put the vegetables in the microwave and set out the cutlery. It didn't take long to serve, and then there was an appreciative silence as they did justice to the meal.
"That was good," Rory mumbled as he mopped up the last of the gravy with a slice of bread.
Charlie gave him an amused look. "I think I'm going to have to start making you a packed lunch every morning."
Rory shook his head. "I had lunch. Was just hungry."
"Just as well there's some apple pie left from yesterday then."
Rory nodded. "I like your pies."
"I know you do." He dropped a kiss on his lover's cheek as he cleared away the plates. "Go and sit in the warm and I'll bring it through."
Rory left, and Charlie prepared the apple pie, along with tea for Rory and coffee for himself, taking them through to the living room. Rory was skimming through the TV guide, but there was nothing that they particularly wanted to watch, so Charlie broached the topic that been held over from the morning.
"I spent most of the day thinking," he began.
Rory faced closed over. "About what happened this morning?"
"Yes." Charlie paused, not sure how to go on. "I'm still not sure I've got it right, and I don't know that I can put it into words, not properly."
"Maybe you don't need to, then."
"No, I do. It's important to me."
Rory sipped his tea and waited.
Charlie took a couple of minutes to marshal his thoughts. "You care about me," he said, eventually. "It doesn't matter whether it's fast or slow, rough or gentle. I know you love me and you care what happens to me."
Rory nodded and set his cup down.
"And I love you too, in case you were wondering," Charlie added with a grin, tilting Rory's chin up and dropping a kiss his lips.
"That's good," Rory smiled at him, and Charlie was tempted to abandon the conversation and drag him upstairs to bed right now. But that would just put things off and he wanted to get this over with.
"Tuomi didn't care about me at all, except to hurt me. He really got off on seeing me in pain, seeing me helpless. He's a heartless bastard, you know. I sort of sensed that the first time I met him, but I just wanted a good fuck, I didn't think it mattered."
"Did he hurt you the first time?"
"No ... he wasn't gentle, but then I didn't want gentle. And it was in a club, and people had seen us chatting, so it wasn't like he could do much." He shrugged. "I knew there was a risk when he offered me a place to stay, but I was pretty desperate, and I figured I could always leave if I didn't like it. I thought I could handle him if he got too rough. Even when he was angry, when he told me I owed him, I thought it would be manageable. I didn't count on being tied up in a locked room."
He shivered at the memory, and was grateful for Rory's arms around him. Rory was his one constant, his anchor, his support and his reason for living, and he was pathetically grateful that he had been given a second chance to be happy with him.
Something of the sort must have shown in his face, because Rory was looking concerned.
"It's all right," he said, "I'm fine now, really."
"You're safe with me, you know that."
"I know. I do, I really feel safe with you. I always felt safe with you - well, maybe not the first week or so, but after that, yeah."
"I'm sorry." Rory looked a bit uncomfortable at the mention of that first month together.
Charlie laughed. "It's all right. It just took us a while to stop pretending we didn't like each other."
Rory smiled. "I wanted you the first moment I saw you, you know."
"Really?"
"Really. It's never happened to me before."
"I wanted you too." There was a long pause while Charlie straddled Rory's hips and kissed him thoroughly. Finally he broke off. "Look, that's what I've been trying to say. You wanted me, you cared about me, right from the very beginning. And I know you hit me once or twice, but it wasn't like you got a thrill out of it. It was just business."
Rory looked uncomfortable. "Last year wasn't business," he said in a low voice.
"What?" Charlie had a moment of confusion until he remembered the violent argument they'd had the night he'd walked put. "Oh, that. That was different, too. I know I said some fucking awful things to you. I'm sorry about that. But I'm not blaming you for losing your temper. Fuck, I lose mine often enough."
He kissed Rory again. "I love it when you're gentle with me, I do. But I also love it when you're a bit wild, like this morning. It's all good."
Rory looked only slightly reassured, and Charlie tried again. "With you ... with you I know that you see me - Charlie - and you're doing things to me because it's going to feel really good for both of us. And even when you're being rough you're always careful not to damage me. I never have to worry about that when I'm with you. And ... and I know if I asked you to, you'd stop, only I never need to."
Charlie took one of Rory's hands and kissed the palm. "Seriously, love, when I'm with you I always feel safe. You care about me. It doesn't matter if you're a bit forceful, I know you don't ever intend to hurt me. I trust you. Yeah, that's it ... I trust you. I never trusted him. I never felt safe with him."
"You trust me."
"Yes, I trust you."
They looked at each other, and Charlie sensed vaguely that they'd said something more significant than the words suggested. He looked down into Rory's face, seeing the slightly puzzled look there. He ran his thumb gently over Rory's lips, watching as they relaxed and then parted. He bent his head and kissed them, trying to show Rory how much he loved him.
The kiss deepened, and Charlie felt his cock straining against his jeans. He was pressing against Rory's groin, feeling the answering response there, and not even the thought of taking Rory upstairs and fucking him could make him pull away. He was lost in the pleasure of the moment, and Rory was his universe.
It was Rory who broke the kiss, strong Rory, clever Rory, his wonderful and masterful lover. He pushed Charlie away and stood up. "Bed. Now," he said, his eyes dark with lust and passion, his lips swollen, his cheeks flushed.
Charlie had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. He clambered to his feet but couldn't walk past his lover, instead claiming another kiss, and then another.
It was Rory who manoeuvred them through the door and up the stairs, and Rory who managed to get Charlie undressed before he even realised that he was naked. He came to some semblance of consciousness when Rory stepped back to remove his own clothing, and watched as his lover's body was revealed to him.
Rory stepped out of his track pants and pushed Charlie down onto the bed, covering him with his own body and kissing him with a passion that matched Charlie's own, until Charlie remembered that he was supposed to be topping and rolled them both over so that he was looking down at Rory's face.
"You remember what you said this morning?" he asked.
Rory nodded.
Charlie smiled down at him. "I want you so much," he whispered, dropping soft kisses onto Rory's neck and shoulders.
"You have me," Rory whispered back.
Charlie reached into the drawer for lubricant and a condom, setting them beside Rory's hips, and then started a thorough and methodical exploration of Rory's body, kissing and caressing every inch that he could reach. Every sense was intoxicated - he could smell Rory's scent, growing stronger as he became aroused; he could hear the catch of breath when he touched a sensitive spot; he could taste the faint salt and tang of Rory's sweat when he licked the pale skin of his abdomen; he could see Rory laid out before him, responding to every touch; and he could feel Rory yielding to him as he opened his legs and inserted a lube-coated finger inside.
He took his time, making sure that Rory was fully stretched, before he reached for the condom and rolled it over his cock, which was so hard by now it was almost aching.
"On your back or on your front?" he asked.
"On my front."
Charlie grabbed a pillow and turned him over, making sure that he was comfortable and taking the opportunity to place a few kisses over the small of his back and each of his delightfully-rounded buttocks, before applying more lube to his cock. He knelt between Rory's thighs and placed his cock at the entrance, rubbing the tip over the puckered skin until they were both panting.
"Come on," breathed Rory, pushing back. "I want this."
Charlie needed no further encouragement, and pushed forward, broaching his lover with care, easing himself in slowly until he was fully buried, his balls touching Rory's and his chest almost flat against Rory's back.
"You feel so fucking good," he groaned.
Rory's response was an inarticulate moan as Charlie began to move, gently easing back and pushing in. He could feel the head of his cock brushing over Rory's prostate, and tried his hardest to keep the rhythm steady, wanting to please Rory, wanting to make this the best lovemaking that Rory had ever had.
He adjusted his position slightly, trying to ease the muscles that were threatening to cramp up, and increased the speed of his thrusts. Rory was moaning audibly now, and his hips were rising as he sought more and more sensation. Charlie pulled him up onto his knees and started to thrust hard and fast. Rory's hand reached down to pump his cock and Charlie increased his speed, hoping strongly that his own orgasm would hold off long enough for him to bring Rory to his climax.
Suddenly Rory's movements became more frantic, Charlie made a few last, desperate thrusts, and then he felt, almost unbelievably, Rory clenching rhythmically around his cock. It was enough to drive him over the edge and his orgasm exploded through him, overwhelming him. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through his body, until he collapsed, exhausted, over the body of his lover.
It was several minutes before either of them could move, and then Charlie pulled out, slowly and reluctantly. He remembered to take off the condom, then lay down at Rory's side, putting an arm over him and kissing the nearest bit of skin, which happened to be his shoulder.
Rory turned his head and smiled at him, looking sated and sleepy. "That was good," he managed to whisper. "Should do that more often."
"You won't get any argument from me." Charlie grinned. He wondered, fleetingly, if the intensity of their lovemaking had been related to the discussions they'd had. Maybe there was a practical benefit to being open and honest with each other? He wasn't sure, but it was worth exploring further.
Rory pulled the pillow out from under his hips and threw it on the floor. Charlie reached for the bedcovers at their feet. They snuggled down together, Charlie resting his head on Rory's shoulder, and were soon asleep.
Chapter 8.5