Authors: Claire Thompson
Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Gay, #Bdsm, #Lgbt, #Romantic Erotica, #m/m bdsm erotic romance
him. Hank fought down his rising irritation. Russell wasn‘t responding at all as he was
supposed to. Guys always loved it when he bought them stuff. What was Russell‘s
problem?
Russell touched the teddy bear and turned toward Hank. At least he was smiling
now. Hank had paid quite a bit extra for the wrapping paper, which he‘d selected
himself, along with the bear.
With a small smile, Russell tucked the bear against his chest as he used the other
hand to tear at the paper. ―It‘s a TV,‖ Hank blurted out, unable to contain himself any
longer. ―A top of the line flat-screen LED high definition TV. Now you won‘t have to
just read books all the time. It‘ll go perfect in here. You‘ll love it.‖
Russell was frowning again, and Hank‘s heart dropped. Fuck it, what was wrong?
―Hank.‖ Russell‘s tone was weary. ―I know what you were trying to do and part of me
can appreciate that but I don‘t need a TV right now. I‘m saving my money for the
microbrewery partnership. A TV is not a priority for me.‖
―It‘s a gift, you dope.‖ Hank felt his exasperation rising. ―You work so damn hard
all the time with all those jobs of yours, scraping and saving every penny to buy into
that partnership. You don‘t have to do all that now that you have someone like me
around. I can buy you whatever you want. I could buy that microbrewery for you even.
Just say the word.‖
Russell narrowed his eyes and Hank looked away, feeling the heat creep up his
neck. He knew he wasn‘t fooling either one of them as to his real financial situation, but
somehow unable to stop the bravado.
―Here‘s the thing, Hank. You work for what you want and save for it, and then you
buy it when you have the money. A responsible person doesn‘t buy big ticket items like
this whenever they feel like, using plastic and hoping someday to have the money to
pay it off. This is a very expensive gift. You don‘t have to pay for my affections, Hank.
You already have my heart for free. I know you can‘t afford this right now and even if
you could—‖
Something in Hank snapped at that moment. All the excitement and anticipation at
Russell‘s happy reaction to his gift evaporated in the heat of his anger. ―Goddamn it!‖
he shouted. ―Why do you keep rubbing it in about my money situation! I
told
you
everything‘s going to be fine. As soon as they clear my father of all this tax shit, the
money will be flowing like water again.‖
No, it won’t. The bastard’s cut you off.
Hank ignored the niggling whine in his head, focusing instead on his anger. ―Why
do you keep on nagging me about this? Isn‘t it enough I have all these fucking bill
collectors calling me day and night? Can‘t you just accept a gift graciously, instead of
using it as a chance to put me down?‖
―Hank, stop it,‖ Russell said, but Hank wasn‘t done.
―Here I go and get you the best TV money can buy, and all you do is lecture me like
I was some kind of kid. Fuck that, Russell! And fuck you! Nobody treats Hank Seeley
like that!‖ Hank felt his brain short circuiting with rage. Would
nothing
ever go right in
his fucked up life? He kicked hard at the TV box, which tipped over against the coffee
table. The box and table toppled over with a crash, books and magazines scattering over
the floor.
He would break that fucking TV! That‘s right, if Russell didn‘t want it, he didn‘t
have to have it! He moved again, ready to smash the box with his fists, when Russell
suddenly seized him by the back of his shirt, pulling him up hard.
Hank jerked around, instinctively striking Russell with his fist, which glanced off
Russell‘s broad shoulder. Russell spun Hank around and caught him in a bear grip,
forcing his arms to his sides.
―That‘s
enough
, Hank. You
will
control yourself. You
will
calm down.‖ The big man
propelled Hank along toward the bedroom. Once there, he flung Hank onto the bed.
Hank was speechless with fury, his fists still curled and aching to smash something. He
bounced up but Russell just pushed him back down. Reaching in the nightstand
drawer, he pulled out two pairs of leather cuffs with D-rings.
Before Hank realized what was happening, Russell pushed him onto his side and
pulled his arms behind his back, In short order he‘d cuffed and shackled Hank‘s wrists.
Hank was wearing shorts, and Russell next tackled his ankles, which he cuffed and
clipped together as well.
―Let me out of these right now,‖ Hank demanded, jerking hard against the
restraints.
Russell had moved out of Hank‘s line of vision, but he heard him say, ―Sorry, no.
I‘m not letting you up until you take some time to think about what the hell just
happened. I want you to think long and hard before you curse at me again or lash out
physically like that. I wouldn‘t treat you that way, and I won‘t tolerate it from you.
Now you will lie there until you calm your ass down. I‘ll be right here, waiting.‖
Hank flipped onto his back, craning to see Russell, but the position was painful and
he rolled back to his side. Russell was sitting on the floor against one wall, his long legs
stretched out in front of him, his expression implacable.
―Goddamn it, let me up!‖ A vein pulsed hotly in at his temple. ―You have no right
to do this!‖ Russell didn‘t respond. Hank twisted on the bed, trying to maneuver his
hands in such a way to undo the clips, but he couldn‘t manage it.
―Russell. Come on, man,‖ Hank pleaded, changing his tack. ―I‘m fine now. Let me
up.‖ Nothing. ―Damn it!‖ Hank pulled again at the cuffs, writhing on the bed until he
nearly fell off it. Exhausted, he stilled.
Giving up, he shut his mouth and clenched his jaw. Two could play Russell‘s silent
game. But his mind wouldn‘t stop whirring. Why did everything have to be so fucking
hard? He‘d wanted to do something nice, damn it. He‘d wanted to show Russell how
much he cared. He‘d wanted to give him something good. Why had Russell been such a
prick about it?
―Russell?‖ he said after a time. ―Cut the shit now, and let me up.‖
Silence.
Hank seethed but closed his mouth again. He‘d wanted to impress Russell with his
money. He wanted, he realized, to buy Russell‘s affections, as he‘d bought the affections
of every man before him. Money was the one thing he had that Russell didn‘t. Or the
one thing he used to have…
He closed his eyes, watching the scene unwind in his mind, hearing Russell‘s deep,
rumbling bass. Hank had been so agitated he hadn‘t really heard the sentence that
played back for him now, or he hadn‘t appreciated it in the heat of his anger.
You don’t have to pay to for my affections, Hank. You already have my heart for free.
A sense of wonder moved through him, scattering and easing his impotent fury.
Was it possible Russell really felt that way? That he honestly didn‘t care whether or not
Hank had money? That he really cared for him just for himself, not for what he could
give Russell?
Hank lay still thinking these novel thoughts. Back in the old days, he‘d told Reese a
thousand times there was no such thing as love. But maybe…
He thought about how he had shouted
fuck you
to the only man who had ever truly
cared for him. What the hell was he doing? Yeah, it sucked that Russell didn‘t want his
gift, but he had acted pretty stupid by ranting and kicking at the TV. He hoped he
hadn‘t broken it. Man, would his temper ever be under control?
Eventually an idea formed in Hank‘s head.
If I lie here quietly, he’ll let me up.
Hank
comforted himself with that thought. And though Russell was the one who had put him
here, he was also strangely comforted by the knowledge that Russell was in the room,
sitting and waiting, keeping vigil.
He lay still for a long while, staring out the window as the sun went down in a
blaze of color. He thought about all the stupid things he‘d done since the moment he‘d
met this amazing and unusual man. And each time, instead of rejecting him out of
hand, Russell gave him another chance. Russell was there for him in a way no one had
ever been. Even when Hank acted like a total fool, when he came to his senses, there
was Russell, those kind blue eyes smiling at him, ready to let him try again.
The room was suffused by the purple twilight. All his rage had ebbed away. It was
odd, but he felt kind of…peaceful. He would have liked to move his arms and legs, but
they weren‘t really uncomfortable, just restricted.
―Russell,‖ he finally said, still trusting he was there. ―I acted like a real jerk.‖ He
waited, and then added, ―I lost my temper. That was really stupid, what I did, kicking
the TV box and all. I shouldn‘t have taken a swing at you.‖ Still silence. ―Russ? Babe?
I‘m sorry. I‘m really, really sorry.‖
~*~
Russell rose to his feet and moved to the bed, having finally heard the words he
needed to hear. ―Apology accepted.‖ He unclipped the cuffs and pulled them from
Hank‘s wrists and ankles. Gently he rubbed at Hank‘s wrists, moving after a while
down to his ankles. ―You okay?‖ he said gently, moving back up to kiss Hank‘s cheek.
―Circulation good?‖
―Yeah. I‘m okay. You?‖
Russell smiled, aware just a few weeks ago it wouldn‘t have occurred to Hank to
ask him this. ―Yeah.‖ Russell lay down beside Hank and took him into his arms. Hank
nestled his head against Russell‘s chest.
They lay quietly for a time until Hank said, ―I just wanted to make you happy,
Russell. I thought you‘d love the TV.‖ Hank‘s voice was sad. ―I‘m sorry I went ballistic
on you.‖
Russell‘s heart tugged. ―I know. I appreciate the gesture, but you don‘t need to do
stuff like that. I don‘t require expensive toys from you. For one thing, I really like living
simply. When I do buy something big like that, I like knowing I earned the money to
get it. That makes me feel good.‖ Russell hugged Hank tighter. ―Like I was trying to tell
you before you went nuts on me—you don‘t have to give me fancy stuff to try to win
me over. You‘ve already got me, don‘t you see that yet?‖
Russell picked up the teddy bear. Though he‘d set it down on bed so he could focus
on freeing Hank from the cuffs, he‘d held it the whole time he was waiting for Hank to
calm down, absently stroking the soft fur.
―Now this, on the other hand,‖ he held the little bear so Hank could see it in the half
light, ―is probably the best gift I ever got in my whole life. I love it.‖
―You do?‖ A tentative smile moved over Hank‘s face and Russell smiled back,
nodding.
―I thought of you when I saw it,‖ Hank said. ―Because you‘re my big cuddly bear. It
even has the same crazy ginger fuzz all over like you do.‖ Russell smiled. Then Hank
added, ―But, Russell. I don‘t get it. You‘d really rather have that little bear than a
Toshiba HD TV?‖
Russell laughed. ―I sure would. Especially since it came from your heart, not your
maxed out credit cards.‖
The tentative smile spread into a grin. Russell had planned to turn this into more of
a teaching moment, trying to help Hank see that he really needed to take financial
responsibility for himself before it was too late. But when Hank reached for him,
pulling Russell‘s face close and kissing his lips, Russell closed his eyes and let go.
~*~
The following week the head waiter at the exclusive country club where Hank was
a member set a bill down on Hank‘s table. Hank looked up in surprise. ―You know
better than that. Just put it on my tab, Jorge, like usual.‖
Jorge looked embarrassed. ―Sorry, Mr. Seeley.‖ He glanced at Hank‘s companion,
Frank Peterson, one of the club‘s golf pros. Hank had invited him to dinner as an
apology for standing him up at golf earlier in the week, claiming he‘d been ill and had
forgotten to cancel. He didn‘t want to admit the real reason—that the guy at the golf
shop window refused to give him anymore credit and he didn‘t have the cash.
Leaning close to Hank, Jorge mumbled, ―Manager‘s directive. No more credit for
you.‖
Hank felt his blood begin to boil, though because of his company, he tried to keep
his voice smooth and even. He even managed a smile. ―There must be a mistake. My
credit‘s good here.‖ He pushed the bill back toward the waiter, who made no move to
take it. ―You just tell Mr. Decker he made a mistake.‖
―Sorry, sir. He was very specific.‖
Frank reached for the bill with a smug expression. ―No problem, Jorge. I got it.‖
―It‘s not necessary,‖ Hank snapped, grabbing the piece of paper. Humiliation
rubbed into his anger like salt into a wound. He‘d be damned if he let this club
employee pick up his tab. Hank pushed back from his chair, the bill clutched in his
hand. ―I‘ll just get this sorted out right now.‖
Hank clenched his jaw to keep from swearing as he saw the two men exchange