Deliverance - Hooch and Matt's Story (26 page)

January 2006, Scotland

They were standing in the queue at Glasgow airport security, where Hooch had to mentally brace himself for being touched by the security staff. He glanced at Matt who seemed deep in thought. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“We should probably wait until we get to the lounge,” Matt replied absently, “not something for a crowd.”

Hooch’s brows rose, but before he could ask anything, it was his turn to walk through the metal detector, get checked out, take his boots off, turn his pockets inside out and stand with his arms spread while being patted down. Gritting his teeth throughout. When he was finally released, got his clothes back on and had sorted his hand luggage, he waited for Matt to join him. They didn’t speak until they reached the first class lounge where Hooch let out a breath of relief. That part was over, the one that followed was mainly the boredom of sitting in a plane. “So,” Hooch settled in a comfortable chair, “what were you thinking about?”

“You, mainly.” Matt replied.”

“You thought about me.” A statement. “What else than the obvious?” Hooch ordered a coffee and water when a young man arrived to ask for their wishes, and waited until they were alone again.

“About how I can be…” Matt paused as a well-dressed woman walked past their chairs, ignoring her batted eyelashes, “more of what you need.”

“You are everything I
want
.” Hooch tilted his head, considering. “After all this time, you now want to be more of what I need?”

Matt didn’t say anything until their drinks arrived and the waiter disappeared. “Let’s just say I’ve been thinking about it for a little while.”

Hooch took a sip of his steaming hot espresso. “What are your thoughts?” He held up a hand, “wait, let me guess. You are enjoying power and control more than you thought back when I first went to the club.”

Matt gave a hint of a grin. “I’ve had some time to get used to it,” he admitted, “and over the years, I’ve picked up little bits here and there. The phone calls are part of it.”

“Does this mean you’ll come with me to the club? Trust me, there’s a lot of curiosity regarding the partner of the guy who refuses to see anyone.”

Matt nodded thoughtfully. “Yes,” he paused. “If you think I’m going to live up to the advance publicity.”

“You don’t have to do anything. Just be there, and you’ll be regarded with awe.” Hooch leaned back his seat as he finished the espresso. “I might have let slip how very much you own me without the need for any bondage or pain.” The smirk that graced his face was positively evil.

Being in public, Matt knew he had to keep himself under control, and not make the retort he wanted to. “Sneaky Delta,” he muttered, taking a sip of his mineral water, though that was nowhere near as satisfying. “When are you going next?”

“Three weeks. I’m off to supervise a training exercise for the next ten days.”

“Hmm.” Matt made an indeterminate sound. “Do I need to get anything before then?”

“That depends. You can wear what you want, but I think you’d look fucking amazing in skin tight leather.” Hooch managed a ridiculous leer over the rim of his glass.

Matt snorted before he finished his mineral water, trying to hide how much that idea had interested him. “We’ll see,” he said noncommittally.

“You know that cock cage…” Hooch suddenly said.

“What about it?” Matt tried not to think about it, because thinking of Hooch’s meticulously organized and edited collection of ‘toys’ in the bottom drawer of the bedside table was seriously inconvenient in the first class lounge, full of imminently respectable and staid looking people.

“I think it should be you who controls me wearing it.” Hooch pasted on a smile of utter blandness, as if he was discussing the stock market.

Matt only barely restrained himself from gaping. As it was, he blinked hard and swallowed. “Can we talk about this at home?” he said in a low voice, with a nervous glance around.

“Sure, as long as you agree that it makes sense.”

Matt thought for a while before he nodded. It seemed he wasn’t the only person who’d had been having thoughts for a while.

“Thank you.” Hooch said quietly and unexpectedly seriously. Before either of them could get another word in, their flight was announced.

They gathered their jackets and hand luggage, and walked to the boarding gate past the long queue. Turning left into the plane, they settled into the comfortable seats.

Matt declined the champagne, as usual, and took a glass of the offered mineral water. “Home,” he said with a sigh of contentment.

“After a long and boring flight.” Hooch sighed, closing his eyes. “Wake me when we land.”

Matt snorted at Hooch’s habitual phrase when they travelled, knowing that Hooch would no more than cat-nap, alert to every single movement and sound in the plane. He smiled at the cabin attendant as he returned his empty glass, put on his headphones and tried to find something on the entertainment system that didn’t bore him to tears, ready for the long flight home.

January-February 2006, Fayetteville

The training exercise had been harder than previous ones, because Hooch hadn’t had sufficient time to get rid of the jetlag beforehand. He wouldn’t be Delta, though, if he hadn’t just ignored the fatigue. Still, ten days later he was glad to be given a couple of extra days off, but before he could head home and to his well earned rest, he had to run a long-planned errand, organized by the inimitable Mandy, now Mrs. Sullivan. He texted Matt to let him know that something had come up and he’d be later than expected. It was long dark by the time he pulled into the secure parking and texted Matt to meet him at the truck.

Matt walked out quickly, curious. While being sparse with details was hardly unusual for Hooch, asking him to come out to meet him was sufficiently out of the ordinary for Matt to know that something was going on. “What’s up?” he asked, as soon as he was in earshot.

Hooch stepped out from behind the truck, a leash wound around his wrist, and at the other end a gorgeous example of a greyhound. Sleek and elegant, well-trained and curiously looking at Matt while standing close to Hooch. “Happy early birthday, Matt.”

Matt’s jaw dropped. “You got me a dog?” he said, feeling dumbfounded, but coming closer and holding out his hand for the creature to sniff.

“Mandy’s idea, she’s been dropping hints like an Iraq shelling.” Hooch watched the dog sniffing and wagging his tail in a friendly manner. “He’s from the greyhound sanctuary. Ex-racing dog, and lazy as all fuck.” He grinned. “His name’s Rex.”

“Hi, Rex.” Matt reached for the dog’s ears and gave them a thorough scratch, while the dog’s whip-like tail swung even more wildly.

“Thank you,” he said to Hooch. “Haven’t had a dog for twenty years, not since high school.”

“Here,” Hooch handed Matt the leash, “plus you’ll get some practice in.”

Matt took the leash, looking at Hooch in confusion for a second before the penny dropped.

He looked at the leash, Rex, and then back at Hooch. “I suppose now it’ll be less embarrassing going shopping at the pet store.” Hooch got his toys online these days, but as always, the memory of buying Hooch’s collar was burned in Matt’s mind.

“Speaking of which,” Hooch reached into the truck to pull out a load of dog owner paraphernalia, “I have an extra two days off. What do you think about a ‘trial run’?”

Matt blinked. “What, now?”

“Why not?” Hooch locked the truck and headed to the stairs, arms full with kit and bags. “I’ve just been training a platoon of guys, pushing them beyond the limits of their endurance, while being jet lagged. It was tough, intense, and I could do with some letting go.” He turned round to look at Matt, alone on the garage stairs except for the dog. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let me wear the collar and decompress.”

Matt was standing still at the bottom, Rex wagging his tail furiously while pressed against him. He looked up at Hooch and visibly forced himself to release the tension. “Have to start somewhere,” he nodded, and followed Hooch up the stairs, with Rex gingerly padded beside him, carefully placing his paws on each step.

“I’ll make it easy for you. No pressure.” Hooch promised before they entered the gym’s reception area. All hell broke loose the moment they stepped inside, with a delightedly squealing Mandy, who made a fuss of Rex and produced a custom-made coat for him with the gym’s logo and name on, and several customers, who petted the dog who lapped up the attention like a sponge. Hooch, meanwhile, took the baggage upstairs, except for a spare water bowl that was to live in the reception area, and found spaces for the dog paraphernalia. Eventually, he went into the bedroom to undress, letting out a big sigh as the tension began to drain with every piece of clothing he took off, until he was naked and went for a shower to get himself cleaned inside as well as out.

Finally tearing Rex away from his new fan club, much to the disappointment of both dog and humans, Matt made his way up to the apartment. He unclipped Rex’s leash, letting the dog explore his new home, noting where Hooch had placed the various bits and pieces. The running shower let Matt know where Hooch was. After a longing look at the couch, which Matt correctly interpreted and then returned with a suitably stern look, Rex curled up on the dog bed placed under one of the windows.

The water stopped just as Matt came out of the bedroom, having retrieved Hooch’s collar from its usual place.

A couple of minutes later Hooch emerged with damp hair, freshly shaved face and balls, and trimmed groin and ass. He looked tired but fairly relaxed, less tense than Matt had expected. He glanced at the curled-up dog, the now empty food bowl, and smiled at Matt when he discovered the collar in his hands. “Thanks,” he said while stepping closer.

Matt returned the smile as he slipped his hands around Hooch’s neck, fastening the collar, leaning towards his ear. “I promise this time it won’t end the way it did the first time,” voice low and husky. The slightest brush of his lips above and below the collar, then the lightest sting of his teeth as he nipped, just a memory, before he pulled away.

“Well, it’s been a few years.” Hooch teased, then slid onto his knees and simply leant into Matt. Face pressed against Matt’s stomach, breathing in deeply the familiar scent.

Matt’s hands went to Hooch’s head, lightly ghosting over the damp hair. “Do you want to stay out here or move to the bedroom?” he asked, before remembering that he was the one who was supposed to be deciding. “We should move to the bedroom,” he corrected. More comfortable, given how tired Hooch was. Besides, having Rex’s curious eyes on him felt distinctly odd—which was strange as he’d never felt any discomfort with having humans watch him.

Hooch looked up and nodded, before standing up. Matt took his hand and led him to the bedroom, where Hooch stood, waiting until told what to do.

“Undress me,” Matt said simply.

And Hooch did. No hesitation, immediately following the order. Expertly taking Matt’s clothes off with great care, from the trainers over vest top and shorts, to the briefs. He stayed on his knees when he was done.

Matt’s hand went to Hooch’s jaw, lifting it upwards. Contemplating whether to make Hooch take him into his mouth, knowing that Hooch would do whatever he asked. Turning his hand around, caressing Hooch’s jaw with just the back of his fingers. “Up,” he ordered, deciding against it, at least for now, “into bed.”

Hooch’s body gave him away, with his movements less fluid than usual, it talked of fatigue and exhaustion, but his face didn’t show the relief he had to be feeling as he sunk onto the firm mattress. The look he gave Matt but simply calm.

Matt climbed in after him, pulling the covers over them both. He smoothed his hands down Hooch’s body, ignoring his own arousal, which had been slow to catch on at first, but was now insistent. “Sleep,” he soothed, “we’ll continue this tomorrow.” He watched as Hooch drifted off, obedient and relaxed. Matt waited until Hooch’s breathing changed, and then got up and padded to the bathroom to take care of matters before slipping back into the bed.

He stared at the ceiling for what felt like long hours, thoughts racing through his head.

* * *

The scent of coffee wafting under his nose drew Hooch into consciousness. He opened his eyes to a room flooded with sunlight, and Matt standing in the middle of it. Dressed, holding a tray which he proceeded to put down on the bedside table, and which was loaded with not only coffee, but also what was usually banished from the apartment: fruit-filled pastries, cinnamon rolls, and even waffles. With butter and maple syrup, no less.

“Morning,” Matt said softly, sitting on the bed next to Hooch. “How do you feel?” Fingertips on the side of his face, lightly heading downwards, just touching the edge of the collar.

Hooch blinked himself awake, it took him two seconds from sleep-drowsy to wakefulness. Revived and with his energy returned. “Good.” He’d needed the sleep after the ten hard days and nights, and the sense of being owned and taken care of the collar provided him, had helped him relax completely. “I’m not dreaming the unhealthy, sugar-laden, butter-dripping goods?”

“Special occasion,” Matt smiled. He pulled back, fingers lingering before he picked up one of the coffee mugs and gently placed it into Hooch’s waiting hands.