Pure Innocence (13 page)

Oliver was rocking into him, low murmurs
coming from his throat. Damon hated every second that passed. For
the first time ever, he was at a total loss. He was no good at
this. He should call Derek.

He brushed hair off Oliver’s sweat-sheened
skin, and stared at the boy’s pale face with deep shadows under
tightly clasped lids—dark bruised shadows; no matter how much sleep
he got, it never seemed to be enough. Oliver needed something else,
something more. Damon swallowed bitter defeat, a nasty, unusual
taste he wasn’t used to. But dammit to hell, he wasn’t a doctor; he
didn’t know how to heal. There was only one thing he really did
well, and that was of absolutely no use to Oliver…

Damon gently pressed Oliver into him. His
eyes flew open, but Damon knew he wasn’t seeing him. Oliver
panicked, body twisting, legs kicking, arms desperately trying to
move and get free.

“
Boy.” Damon lowered his
voice automatically. “Come back. Oliver…hush, that’s it. Hush, boy.
I’ve got you. It’s Sir, Damon. I’ve got you, hush boy. You’re
safe.” Over and over again Damon repeated the mantra, telling him
he was safe, and Damon had him.

Damon knew exactly when his words had
finally penetrated whatever nightmare Oliver was trapped in,
because all of a sudden Oliver paused mid-struggle and tried to
crack open those gorgeous eyes. Damon eased the pressure on his
arms. “I’ve got you, boy. You belong to me. No one else will take
you, you’re mine. Safe. Hush.”

Oliver’s breaths came in and out in huge
gasps, panicked, but slower. Damon dropped kisses on his jaw and
followed every brush of his lips with his teeth, instinctively
grounding him, marking him, bringing him back down. Damon murmured
words in between, telling him that he was going to be safe.
Secure.

Damon had him. He had no worries, he’d
already given them all away. Oliver blinked again and Damon lowered
his head so their lips were brushing, tasting, anchoring. Oliver
was his.

“
Breathe with
me.”

****

Oliver was aware of Damon. Aware in that he
had no body of his own, no thought, nothing was his that Damon
didn’t give him. Oliver’s very breaths he caught and held, and held
again. All of Oliver. Every sound, every thought, every touch. The
very oxygen in his lungs belonged to Damon, and Oliver floated. He
could let go because nothing was his anymore. Oliver felt his lips
traced by Damon’s firm fingers. Another hand splayed over his
chest, rising and falling with each breath. He felt warm hands
brush his chest, and his nipples hardened automatically. He whined,
he thought he did. Wanted the feeling again. Wanted grounding. He
needed, needed desperately.

Hands, Damon’s hands. Damon brushed his
chest again, and Oliver arched, searching, needing something,
something more. Damon had him. Words were finally penetrating his
dazed mind. He took a breath Damon gave him. Then another. His
lungs didn’t hurt, nothing hurt anymore—Damon had him, Damon had
everything.

“
Boy?” Damon’s words made
him smile.

“
B-boy.” Oliver tried it on
his tongue, liked the sound of it very much. He smiled again when
he heard a soft chuckle. Damon clearly agreed with him. “Your boy.”
Oliver was sure, wanted it, and cracked open an eyelid when he
didn’t get a response.

Gray eyes. Steady, dependable. Gazing at
him, seeing him, seeing all of him. Oliver pulled deep breaths in
and out of his lungs whenever Damon willed him to.

“
I want to be yours, your
boy.” He did. He wanted it so much. This time when Damon urged a
breath he didn’t respond, just held his, waiting.

Damon raised an eyebrow. “Breathe, boy.”

And of course Oliver did, but he still
hadn’t got a response. “I want to be yours.” He tried again.

Damon nodded, smiled, then drew lazy circles
on Oliver’s chest. “Listen to me.”

Oliver nodded, eager.

“
When you are well, truly
well,” Damon stressed the words and held Oliver’s gaze, “it’s
something I am more than happy to talk about.”

Oliver’s heart thumped, a hollow sound.
Truly well? He might never be. Not ever. Oliver glanced at his
hands and hated them. He felt a finger touch his chin and raise it
until he was staring into Oliver’s solemn face.

“
I don’t mean your hands,
so get rid of that thought.”

Oliver smiled; Damon was so confident.

“
I mean when you are
settled, safe, happy.” Damon grinned. “No more worrying. Then we’ll
talk about something long term, permanent even.” Damon brushed a
kiss over Oliver’s lips and Oliver tried to chase it, but Damon was
talking again. “I want you to think about a safe-word.”

Oliver’s heart jumped. Safe-word? That must
mean…

“
It isn’t what you think.
It was pointed out to me quite plainly that we are already in the
dynamic. You need safety.” Damon smoothed a thumb over Oliver’s
lips, teasingly. “You need something to tell me when to stop
pushing.” Damon lifted his gaze to Oliver. “Because I will. Push,
all the time. Every day, until you are so sick of me making you do
things to get better, you may safe-word just for some
peace.”

Damon eased alongside Oliver. “I will push
until I don’t have to.” He grinned. “Then I may push just because I
can. Be ready. If you want this, I will take all of you.”

Oliver stared at Damon. He wanted to be
taken. He needed it, so bad he could taste it. He was sick of
everything being taken from him, all the time, but this? This was
something he could give, and he wanted that so very much.

“
You have to be sure. Very
sure. Because once I’ve got you, I’m not going to give you
back.”

Oliver quavered. Damon’s?
Completely his, giving everything to him?
God, yes… Please.

****

Oliver settled into a routine over the next
few days. He’d started some antibiotics for a urine infection and
he felt better. Master Jameson had visited every day for the first
three, but then he had missed two days while he had gone to Los
Angeles. Oliver had spoken to him both mornings though, and he was
due back later that afternoon. Master Jameson hadn’t pushed much,
but Oliver knew the day was fast approaching where the chatting was
going to get a little more intense. Oliver was having trouble with
the dreams, and they seemed to be getting worse. He expected Damon
would have told Master Jameson, so he was surprised he hadn’t said
anything.

Jeremy had been back once, but when it was
obvious he didn’t need to keep the dressings on his hands, and
Damon was helping him with all his personal care, there was no need
for him to come back again. Alec had been back twice, and Oliver
had stammered an apology for hurting him. Damon had seemed annoyed
that Alec let it slip that Oliver had thrown the block with the
colored pegs at him in temper, and Oliver was mortified he had hurt
someone without even remembering he had done it. He was a bit hurt
that Damon thought he might do it again though, because Oliver had
never done any therapy since without Damon being present. Alec had
never mentioned knowing Damon at all, and Damon never acknowledged
it either.

Master Joe and Adam were coming round for
lunch today. Damon had suggested meeting them at a bar, but Oliver
wasn’t ready to eat in public. He was managing anything he could
pick up that wasn’t heavy that he could put in his mouth in one go.
He’d been working very hard to get the pincer movement back
properly in his right hand, and he was able to grip light things.
He had managed nearly all the colored pegs the last time without
dropping any. He found sandwiches and veggies or pieces of fruit
easy to cope with cut up into small pieces, and he seemed to be
getting his appetite back.

Going to the bathroom was
still a bit of a problem, but Damon had been immensely practical
about the whole thing, and despite the obvious embarrassment of him
need help with cleaning, Oliver had managed without any more
enemas.
Thank God.

Oliver stood in his favorite place, looking
through the glass wall in Damon’s lounge. You could see straight
across Tampa Bay and Bayshore Boulevard below. He was trying really
hard not to think about lunch, but he was flat out terrified of any
repeat of his first meeting with Joe and Adam.

But it wasn’t your first meeting.

And that was the problem. He was terrified
he was going to remember something, then embarrass Damon or himself
by having another panic attack.

He smelled the scent of Damon’s cologne
about two seconds before he was wrapped up gently in his strong
arms, and he sighed and leant back, silently asking for Damon’s
strength. It still stunned him, how this submitting to Damon
worked. He didn’t think he would ever understand what Damon got
from this, and part of him constantly believed that it was
temporary, but he knew he had choices now, and knowing he was in a
situation because he wanted to be, not because he had to, gave him
more confidence than he’d ever felt possible.

The doorbell rang and Oliver couldn’t help
stiffening. Damon squeezed his shoulders a little, careful not to
hurt. “Any time you have had enough, just say. Joe and I are going
to talk work for a little while, so there will only be you and
Adam.”

Oliver nodded and tried to smile. What Damon
didn’t realize though was that Adam was the one who terrified him,
not because he would do anything to him, but because it might make
him remember more. He’d woken up in a sweat during the night, just
managing not to disturb Damon, but he hadn’t closed his eyes
again.

He could hear voices talking in the
entryway, and suddenly people were in front of him. He blinked, no.
Not people, just one. Adam. He vaguely wondered at Damon leaving
Oliver to see Adam on his own, and then he heard Damon’s and Joe’s
voices as they moved into the office, and he understood. If Damon
had come in here with Adam, Joe would have followed, and Damon
probably thought that may be too much for him. Oliver smiled in
recognition of another decision that Damon had made for him, and it
had worked out. Damon clearly thought Oliver could cope with Adam
on his own, and that gave him a little confidence. He wanted to
prove Damon right.

Adam made no move to come near him. He just
sat quietly on the chair furthest away. Oliver stared at Adam,
smiled as he took in the purple streak he had in the lock of hair
that seemed a little too long. He let the memories flow. He
remembered kindness, being cold, naked. Adam had covered him with
something to try and keep him warm.

Adam looked up at him with his suddenly
huge, pretty green eyes. “Before we get lunch, there’s something I
need to say, something I’ve been wanting to say for weeks.”

Oliver was surprised. The voice warmed him,
and Adam seemed nervous. He immediately sat on the couch a little
nearer to Adam. He waited patiently, expectantly.

“
It’s just…” Adam’s hands
twisted. He looked beseechingly at Oliver, and Oliver calmed.
Smiled. He could help.

“
What is it?”

Adam sighed. “I owe you so much. You
probably saved my life.”

Oliver’s lips parted in shock. Whatever he
expected Adam to say, it hadn’t been that. “What?” Oliver shook his
head. He hadn’t done anything, it was Adam that had escaped, got
Damon.

“
You warned me not to drink
the water.”

Oliver blinked. The water, yes. The bottles
that were left until he was so thirsty he had to take a sip to ease
his parched throat. He knew they had something in them. They’d made
him hallucinate at first, then made him sleepy, all the time, until
he’d deliberately tried to drink to escape the pain. Then the man
had seen that, and he’d taken them away. Oliver hadn’t even been
able to escape a little in sleep. Maybe that was why he wanted to
sleep all the time now, to escape.

“
If I’d have drunk the
water, I would never have been able to escape. Your warning saved
my life.” Adam looked down, embarrassed. “I feel so guilty with
what you went through, you saved me, not the other way
around.”

Oliver moved, Adam moved. They were suddenly
sitting close, cuddling, both crying a little. Hanging on. “You
were so strong, for days,” Adam said. “I was in there a matter of
hours and I still have nightmares.”

Oliver heard a small sound from the doorway.
Joe and Damon stood in the doorway both looking at them. Joe looked
horrified, but he gazed at Adam. Oliver understood. Joe was like
Damon, he would hate it if Adam was suffering anything and Joe
couldn’t make it better.

Oliver smiled and patted Adam to get his
attention. Adam raised his head and they both looked at how their
big bad Doms stood totally at a loss. Oliver felt the sudden urge
to laugh and couldn’t hold it in. He was surprised by the giggle
that came out, and Adam answered with a giggle of his own. Damon
and Joe’s shared look of confusion made him laugh harder, and he
hung onto Adam with his right arm, tightly.

Damon shook his head, smiling, and looked at
Joe. “Lunch?”

“
We’ll get it.” Adam pulled
on Oliver’s arm and stood up. “We brought some things.” Joe groaned
knowingly, and Oliver smiled with delight. He could do this. Well,
Adam could, and he could watch. Joe grunted and headed back to
Damon’s office. Damon paused, seeming torn.

“
Shoo.” Adam waved at
Damon, and Damon raised his eyebrows in shock. Oliver stared, but
Damon grinned and followed Joe.

Oliver caught up to Adam. “Did you just shoo
Damon?”

“
That’s the secret,” Adam
whispered conspiratorially. “You have to let them think they’re in
charge all the time.” He winked. “Sometimes it doesn’t hurt to let
them know they’re not, not really.” He paused. “Of course, I’d
never dare do it at the club.”