Deliverance - Hooch and Matt's Story (27 page)

“What’s the special occasion?” Hooch scooted up to sit, taking the first sip with a look of pleasure on his face.

“I’ll tell you after breakfast, I have an idea.” Matt’s fingertips returned to the collar, moving slowly downwards, lingering momentarily on Hooch’s left nipple, before leaving the skin. Selecting one of the cinnamon rolls and putting it on a plate, he handed it to Hooch, exchanging it for the cup.

Hooch tilted his head, but he knew better than to ask. He bit into the pastry when offered, allowing a small sound of pleasure at the burst of flavors. During the last ten days, as grueling for the Delta Force trainer as for the recruits, he’d lost weight despite eating as much as he could, but he was burning it quicker than he could keep it on. He made his way through the first pastry in record time, then went onto the waffles dripping with syrup.

Matt watched him with satisfaction, his own coffee cup in hand, and indulging in a raspberry Danish. Waiting until Hooch had demolished the pile of sugary, sticky treats—he didn’t dignify them with any other name—before sitting next to Hooch on the bed, on top of the covers, hand on Hooch’s chest, fingers lightly resting on the left nipple again. “I think,” he said, with just the smallest hint of a caress, “that a ring here would look amazingly hot,” he paused, “and leave no doubt whatsoever that you were mine.” Hoping he hadn’t overdone it.

Hooch’s eyes widened a fraction. He swallowed down the last bite, dark eyes on Matt’s face. “What about the right?”

“Hmmm,” a low sound in Matt’s throat, “we’ll see how one goes first. Wouldn’t want to rush things.”

“Okay.” Hooch agreed without hesitation. “When?”

“This afternoon.” Matt tilted his head to one side, “so you’re healed up a bit before we go to the club.”

Hooch drew in an audible breath. The duvet hid his almost instant arousal, but Matt knew him well, he could tell from other signs such as dilation of his pupils. “That’s unexpected.”

The mysterious smile, so unlike Matt. “I wouldn’t like you to be bored with me.” Matt leaned forward to breathe into Hooch’s ear, hands undoing the buckle, removing the collar. “You’re all sticky, and not in a good way. Shower.”

Hooch nodded, surprised, but that quickly changed to calm acceptance that was so unlike the turmoil and storm that was Hooch. When he got up, there was no hiding any longer of his full erection.

Matt quickly coiled the collar and laid it aside before tugging Hooch towards the bathroom, turning on the shower and making sure the water was a comfortable temperature before urging Hooch inside. Quickly getting out of his clothes, Matt joined him, glad the cubicle was large enough for the two of them with room to spare.

Matt’s closeness and the warm water certainly didn’t diminish Hooch’s erection, but he ignored it, because Matt was ignoring it. Hooch’s mind, right now, he was doing nothing he wasn’t told to do—he didn’t even want anything he wasn’t given. Decompressing in the secure knowledge of not having to give any orders, not having to make any decisions, and not having to be the tough Delta Force instructor that he was. It was a new experience for Hooch, to be washed by Matt and to be taken care of, for there was no other word for how Matt treated him, and it did something to him that he couldn’t name yet.

Matt shut the water off, guided Hooch out of the shower and dried him thoroughly. “I have a class to take,” Matt said, matter-of-factly as he helped Hooch into loose, comfortable clothes, which did nothing to hide his hard-on. “Why don’t you chill and keep Rex company?” He looked down at Hooch’s erection. “I’ll take care of that later this afternoon.”

Hooch sucked in a breath, then nodded. Matt Donahue did seem to have it in him, after all. Or maybe he’d just grown up while growing accustomed to Hooch and his special brand of crazy. “Yeah, will do. I just get my netbook.”

“Okay,” Matt gave him a lingering kiss, and left the bathroom.

The sound of paws in the corridor, as Rex looked first at Matt’s retreating back, then stuck his head around the bathroom door to see Hooch standing perfectly still, before apparently deciding that he had clearly been adopted by two lunatics, and returning to the living room in a huff.

When Matt returned around lunchtime, Hooch was on the couch, fast asleep, the netbook slipped off his lap and open on the floor. Rex laid out in all his long-legged glory along Hooch, wedged between couch and body, Hooch’s arm on the snoozing dog. Hooch was wearing the collar again, and his face looked younger and softer than Matt had seen it in a long time.

Matt picked up the netbook from the floor, closing it quietly and putting it in the middle of the dining table, to prevent any accidents. He sat down on the only unoccupied spot on the couch, putting a hand on Hooch’s arm to wake him up.

Unlike himself, Hooch didn’t wake immediately, but swatted at the hand on his arm, mumbling something about Rex and stop and to go to sleep the fuck already.

“Hey, don’t blame the dog, it’s me,” Matt chuckled. “Do you want some lunch?” The chuckling grew as both Hooch and Rex sat up at the last word, turning dark eyes on him.

Hooch shook his head to clear the cobwebs off. “Fuck, did I conk out again?” He eyed the dog beside him, who looked first at him, then at Matt with expectation and a little dribble. “He’s more desperate.” Hooch pointed at Rex.

The dog looked at Matt, who shook his head. “Come on then, both of you.” He got up off the couch and went into the kitchen, filling the bowl with dry food for Rex, and back to healthy food for Hooch and himself.

Hooch sat at the table, watching Matt. He’d never tried to help with any cooking, as it was safer for both of them if he never did. “I checked out after care for piercings.”

Matt turned to look at him. “Is it going to interfere with work?” he asked, always aware that Hooch’s work involved some fairly dangerous shit at times. Make that most of the time.

“Not if I’m careful. Salt baths every day, barbell first not a ring, and I can always tape it up if necessary.” Hooch flashed a grin. “Even Delta are not naked most of the time.”

Matt couldn’t hold back a snort at that, thinking of all the impressive shiny equipment, fancy uniform and toys that Delta had (and seemed to break, lose, or otherwise render useless all the time). “It should be alright in a couple of weeks, then. Or I can just tell everyone else to keep their paws off you.”

“The healing takes several weeks, sometimes months.” Hooch tilted his head, focused on Matt. “Can I make a request?”

Matt made a noise of agreement and looked at Hooch, turning off the heat from the stir-frying vegetables.

“Because of my job, would you consider having them put both in at the same time? Would cut the healing stage down to once.”

Matt’s eyebrows went up. “Sure.” He blinked. “Wow. If I thought you’d be like this about them…”

“Matt, you told me you want me to be pierced. There is nothing I wouldn’t do if you ordered me to, because I know you’d never demand anything unreasonable.” The hyper focus on Matt increased. “If you tell me to get my cock pierced, I will. If you tell me to get my ass tattooed, or my chest, or my arms, or anything else that isn’t visible when in uniform, I will. If you tell me to wax my body hair, I will. Do you understand?” The intensity was almost palpable. “That’s what ownership means, and I’ve always been aware of that.”

There was an audible click of teeth, even though Matt had managed to stop his jaw from dropping. Seeming to collect himself, he stepped closer, but then stopped. This wasn’t about physical touch, or even physical symbols, even though Hooch was wearing the collar. “Yes,” he swallowed, once more reminded—though he’d always been aware—of the power, the
trust
, that Hooch had placed in his hands. The growing heat when Hooch had mentioned all the other possibilities, strangely appealing. Things to file away and consider for another day. “Yes,” he repeated.

He turned back to the food, as though he could somehow distract himself with the more mundane tasks, but even they were about how Hooch was under his control when they were under the same roof: Matt deciding what they ate, when they ate it. Matt dished out the lunch, putting Hooch’s plate in front of him with the bottle of chili sauce, but eating his own plain. Quiet, deep in thought, both about the plans for the afternoon and what he had seemingly agreed to do and be—for many more years to come.

After lunch, Matt was the one who led the way down to the garage and drove to the tattoo parlor - he’d made the appointment at a place recommended by several of the regulars at the gym, known for its meticulous standards and adherence to hygiene, and the complete unflappability of its staff in the face of any and every request.

Their request, however, was very much on the tame side for the business. After the usual warnings and advice about proper care, the deed was done with remarkable efficiency and speed.

Hooch, the crazy masochistic bastard that he was, enjoyed the pain of the piercings far too much. He stoically watched the needle being pushed through the nub of flesh without the any flinch, with his hard-on uncomfortably trapped in the tight black denims, but neither did the staff bat an eyelid, nor did Matt acknowledge his predicament. The fresh wounds were lightly bandaged, and they were sent on their way with information on aftercare.

Matt snuck a glance over at Hooch in the passenger seat, bulge still obvious though his face remained impassive, looking straight ahead, eyes half-closed. “Nearly home,” Matt said, though he wasn’t sure whether this was to Hooch or himself.

“This feels…” strange, painful, sore, different, over-sensitive, “good.”

“Good,” Matt echoed, exhaling. A risk, though one that had paid off. “I can’t wait until I can put the rings in,” he said. The plain, polished steel rings he’d bought to put in, once the wounds had healed. How they would gleam against the tanned skin. Watching Hooch’s reaction, which was a tiny, hardly visible tremor, as they pulled into the secure parking under the gym and got out of the car. Matt was thankful that Hooch’s obedience extended to not objecting to Matt driving, for once. This seemed the only time Hooch could let go and not need to control every aspect of his life including the driving ‘in case his combat driver training skills were needed’.

Hooch hurried past the reception area with a cursory greeting to Mandy, eager to hide the very visible erection, which had no place in a respectable gym. He didn’t even stop for Rex’s obligatory petting.

Matt had to force himself to slow down, to behave normally, greet Mandy and a couple of the regulars who were hanging around, and soothe the upset Rex, before heading upstairs.

The short time it had taken Matt, it had been long enough for Hooch to get out of his clothes. He stood in the middle of the room, naked, the collar snugly back around his throat, the white of the taped bandages over his nipples bright against his tanned skin.

Checking that both doors were firmly locked, Matt walked up to Hooch slowly, shedding his clothes as he went, knowing that Hooch’s eyes were on him every step of the way. Standing right in front of Hooch, his hand brushed against the taped bandages, gently at first, and then just enough pressure to sting, before stroking Hooch’s weeping cock. “I told you this morning I’d take care of this,” Matt told him, strokes firm. “I keep my promises.” He took his hands off Hooch and took a step back. “Turn around. Bend over the couch.”

Hooch suppressed a shudder, his cock so hard for so long, he was that desperate, he had to force himself not to make a sound as he turned as ordered and bent down low, spreading his legs far apart. Dipping even lower until his arms were outstretched, hands gripping the top of the couch, head lower than his ass. Spread as wide open as it was possible. He felt his breath come in short gasps, straining for control.

Matt counted slowly in his head to ten, drawing out the tension, before stepping closer, hands on Hooch’s ass to spread him further apart. Nudging forward, he went slowly because he was without any lube except for his pre-cum; going slowly, so that Hooch could feel the gradual burn and stretch as he pressed forward; going slowly, so that Hooch could feel every inch of him as he entered and claimed. Possessing. Owning. His.

The groan that forced itself out of Hooch’s chest told Matt how very much Hooch was his indeed, right now, with fraying control. Hooch’s long, strong legs trembled, his knuckles turned white in an ever more desperate grip on the couch, and his muscular back shuddered with tremors.

Hands on Hooch’s hips holding him still as Matt moved, once he had buried himself deep inside. Long strokes, knowing that Hooch was so aroused from the piercing and the long anticipation that it would not take much for him to come apart. Besides, Matt’s own control was rapidly disappearing as his thrusts grew more erratic, Hooch bucking under him with increasing desperation.

Losing every last fragile remain of his control, Hooch cried out, forced himself backwards and onto Matt’s cock, meeting his powerful thrusts to increase the onslaught of sensations. It was too much, far too much to take, and he came with an intensity that made his knees buckle.

Matt collapsed into him, Hooch’s spasms drawing out his own orgasm as he emptied himself into Hooch. Only barely remembering not put his full weight on the body beneath him, for fear of abrading the newly pierced nipples further, but pulling him up and to the side, they fell onto the other half of the couch together, Hooch cradled in Matt’s arms.

“You…” Hooch murmured, still shuddering through the last remaining tremors, “are quite something, Matt Donahue.”