Screwing the System (21 page)

Great. Evening officially over. Cosmo scowled, but curled up and rested his head on Alasdair’s lap, small tremors still shaking his body whenever he thought of the hood.

He’d have to make it up to Alasdair. Somehow.

Alasdair unlocked his front door with a sense of trepidation. No texts from Cosmo all day, so he’d left work early again. If the hood incident had Cosmo spooked, he needed to sort things out as soon as possible. He even had a present for him. Not that he’d bought it specially. He’d already ordered it last week, and he still wasn’t entirely sure how Cosmo would react to it. It shouldn’t scare him, but he’d take it slowly. No cuffs or restraints tonight.

“I’m home,” he called.

No answer. Huh. Maybe Cosmo was out in the pool. But no, he could sense the house was occupied. It felt different when Cosmo was there. Alive, somehow, like Alasdair actually had a life waiting for him after all this time. He sniffed the air, detecting an unfamiliar smell. Was that burnt toast? Well, Cosmo had never claimed he could cook, had he? Alasdair headed for the kitchen.

Alasdair stood in the doorway and watched Cosmo moving around, lost in the noise pouring out of his new iPod. The tinny sounds leaking out of his earbuds were a cacophony, but Cosmo danced to the beat as he stirred something on the hob. The room looked like a bomb had hit it, but that wasn’t what bothered Alasdair. No, it was those rounded shoulders. Cosmo stood like he’d been told he was worthless. Alasdair wanted to punch whoever had put that idea in his head.

He moved behind Cosmo and took hold of his shoulders, pulling them straight. Cosmo froze, then melted back against him and pulled one of the earbuds out. “Hey, you’re early.”

“And you’re slouching.”

Cosmo rolled his eyes. “Sor-ry.”

Cocky brat. If he didn’t manage to tame anything else about Cosmo, Alasdair was determined to improve his posture. His present would help, whether Cosmo liked it or not. But that could wait until later. “What are you doing?” Alasdair eyed the spillages all over the worktop and the pile of pans by the sink. The dishwasher was already churning away, making him wonder how much more mess Cosmo had already dealt with.

“Dinner. It was meant to be a surprise,” Cosmo said, pouting and grinding his arse back against Alasdair’s crotch.

“Believe me, it still is. I have absolutely no idea what could have necessitated using every single pan I own.”

“Yeah, well, some of them got a bit burnt, but I figured out what I was doing wrong in the end. It’s going to be delicious. Just you wait.”

“You didn’t need to make dinner.”

“I wanted to. To make up for last night.” Cosmo’s head bowed over the hob. He actually looked submissive for a change. Strange, then, that Alasdair wanted to restore his usual attitude.

“Nothing to make up for.”

“I ruined your plans.”

“You didn’t ruin them. You merely let me know your feelings on the matter. That’s way more important to me than you going along with something that frightens you.”

“Really?” Cosmo leant back, resting his head on Alasdair’s shoulder.

“Really.” Alasdair kissed the tip of his nose, which wrinkled adorably. “And I’ve got you a present to say sorry for being an arrogant shit.”

“What, yesterday? Or in general?”

“Brat.” He kissed Cosmo’s nose again. Shit. He was going to end up saying something soppy if he didn’t change the subject. “So, how long will I have to wait for your masterpiece to be ready?”

Cosmo glanced at the clock and screwed his forehead up. “Err, about an hour? Sorry, you’ll have to manage without me until then.” He ground his arse back again, and this time Alasdair could feel the base of the plug through the layers of fabric. It was sorely tempting to take him then and there. He doubted it would take more than a few wiggles of the plug to distract Cosmo from the cooking. But no, that wouldn’t be fair. Not when the lad was clearly trying to pull his weight. Alasdair could wait an hour or so. He wasn’t that badly smitten, was he? As he tore himself away from Cosmo’s pliant body and ready smile, however, his every cell begged to differ, screaming in protest.

He consoled himself by picking up the parcel containing Cosmo’s present and heading upstairs to get everything ready.

Dinner turned out to be shepherd’s pie, complete with lumpy mashed potatoes and a slight charcoal tinge to the lamb. But it was delicious because of the company, and because Alasdair knew Cosmo had remembered him confessing it to be one of his favourite foods.

Cosmo really was trying hard. He’d opened a bottle of red for Alasdair and poured his own cider into a matching wineglass, and he’d even set the dining table with candles, so that the soft glow lit their faces and cocooned them in a bubble of warmth. Alasdair listened to him chattering on about his day and the trials of his latest band practice that morning. Those other kids sounded like a right bunch of losers, but he bit back telling Cosmo this. They were his friends after all. Cosmo would grow up and see sense on his own. He didn’t need Alasdair interfering with every aspect of his life, as he’d reminded him once or twice already.

However, there was one thing Alasdair was determined to interfere with. He finished his meal much faster than Cosmo, who spent more time talking than eating, then rose and walked around behind Cosmo’s chair.

“What are you doing?” Cosmo asked when Alasdair gripped hold of his shoulders.

“Just helping you with your posture.” He pulled them back straight, moving on to Cosmo’s head and tilting it into an upright position.

“I can’t eat like this.”

“Why not? I just did.”

“It feels wrong. Uncomfortable. Like I’ve got a fucking ruler stuck down the back of my shirt.”

“Hmm, not a bad idea, that one.”

“Don’t you dare. Oh, come on, there’s nothing wrong with the way I sit.”

“There is. You’re going to give yourself all kinds of problems in the future if you don’t look after your posture.”

“Yeah, but that’s way in the future. Who cares about that?”

“I do.”

“You do?” Cosmo sounded uncertain and his shoulders stopped moving, as if he was holding his breath while he waited for the reply.

Alasdair began to massage those tensed shoulders, waiting for the right words to form in his mind. In the end, they didn’t, so he spoke from his heart instead. “I want you to get the very best out of your life. Whatever you choose to do, even if you decide you don’t want to hang around with an old fart like me anymore, I want you to be healthy and happy. I don’t want life to grind you down before you’ve even had a chance to start living.”

Cosmo was quiet for a record amount of time after that, slowly chewing his food and sipping his cider as Alasdair worked his fingers and thumbs into the knotty muscles under his hands. Had he said too much? No, he’d just been honest. To a point. Some confessions were better left unsaid for now. He didn’t want to scare the man off by getting too heavy, too soon.

But the thought of his home without Cosmo Rawlins in it? He couldn’t contemplate being plunged back into the lonely purgatory that had been his existence over the last fifteen years. No, a life without Cosmo would be unbearably empty.

When Cosmo finally demolished the last of his portion, he dropped his head back to look up at Alasdair. “Thanks. That feels much better.”

Alasdair should probably assume Cosmo was simply referring to the massage, but his eyes were suspiciously bright. Fuck. He didn’t do emotional displays. Wasn’t sure he could cope with a tearful Cosmo outside of a scene, when he had the security of his role to play.

Time to get things back onto more certain grounds.

“Come on. Upstairs, now. I’m going to do something about your terrible slouching, boy.”

“Oh yeah? You going to make me, boss?”

That was better. That teasing lilt in Cosmo’s voice was much easier to deal with.

“Yes, I’m going to bloody well make you stand up properly, and then I’m going to use you any way I want to, and all the time, no matter what I’m doing to you, you’re going to keep those shoulders straight for me.”

“Hmm, I’d like to see how you plan to make me.”

“Bedroom. Now.” Alasdair pitched his voice deep, thrilled by the way Cosmo responded, his breath quickening and his pupils dilating.

By now, Cosmo knew the drill, and he shucked off his clothes in the hallway without Alasdair even needing to ask. Alasdair led the way, letting Cosmo follow at his own pace, which matched his exactly. Clever lad.

It wasn’t until Cosmo saw the corset lying on the bed that he finally protested. “Oh no. I told you. No way. That’s for girls.”

“I can assure you this one is definitely made for a man’s body. Look at the leather. Feel how soft it is.”

He could see the moment when Cosmo’s curiosity got the better of him, and his eyes grew even darker. Cosmo leant over and stroked the leather. It was made from lambskin and had cost an obscene amount of money, but Cosmo was most definitely worth it. “See the stitching? All handmade by a master craftsman.”

“It’s got hard bits in it,” Cosmo protested.

“The boning? That’s to give it shape and support you when I lace it up.”

“It’s not going to end up giving me tits, is it?”

Excellent, he was already accepting he’d be wearing it. “It fits mostly below the rib cage. Don’t worry. You’ll look all man, I promise. Now, grab hold of the bedpost and watch in the mirrors.”

There was a reason he’d picked the bedroom rather than the study, despite that being his favourite room to play in. The large mirror on the antique wardrobe combined with a couple of strategically placed standing mirrors would give Cosmo a view of both front and back as Alasdair laced him in. Alasdair picked up the corset and fitted it around Cosmo’s waist.

“No, I don’t like this,” Cosmo murmured as Alasdair clipped the row of buckles down the front, but he didn’t sound at all sure. Alasdair chose to ignore him and began pulling the laces tighter at the top. “Ow. It pinches.”

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s going to feel great when it’s all done up properly.”

Cosmo grumbled under his breath, but as Alasdair gradually worked the laces tighter and tighter, his protests dried up. “Oh God,” he gasped.

“Yes?” Alasdair worked on cinching the corset in tighter, trying to ignore for now the way his cock ached for the touch of Cosmo’s skin.

“Umm, feels strange.”

“Strange how?”

“I can’t breathe properly. A bit dizzy. Is it safe?”

Alasdair paused a moment to watch the rapid rise and fall of Cosmo’s chest in the mirror. He looked so debauched like that, his waist already smaller and drawing even more attention to his sturdy erection. The way Cosmo panted and the flush over his naked chest made him look already half fucked to oblivion, and Alasdair hadn’t even touched him below the waist yet.

“You’re perfectly safe. You just can’t fill your lungs all the way anymore.”

The sight of himself standing behind Cosmo, his own hard-on evident, sent a shockwave through him. The two of them looked so right together. Cosmo bending before him in submission and strength. Their eyes met in the mirror, and a pulse of painful joy shuddered through his body.

Alasdair looked down again, trying to regain control, but the way the leather garment accentuated the curve of Cosmo’s luscious rear made it hard to concentrate. He forced his attention back to the laces, to pulling them through all the eyelets so that he only had left the final tie in the centre.

“Hold on tight.” Alasdair braced one foot against the edge of the bed and cinched in the corset as far as he could. Cosmo’s body jerked as Alasdair tugged hard, but he kept his grip on the bedpost.

“Oh fuck, that’s good.” Cosmo gasped, sounding surprised.

“I thought you’d like it.” Alasdair tied off the cord and tried to get his own breathing under control. Already Cosmo’s back was curving in a better direction, arching so that his shoulders and backside were offered up to Alasdair. “Look at you, all proud and erect. Look at us both.”

He made quick work of his own fly, freeing his heavy cock and moving in close to rub it down the crack of Cosmo’s thrust-out arse. The touch of Cosmo’s hot, sweat-dampened skin almost had him coming there and then. Shit, he needed to wrest some control back. Tough though it was, he stepped back from all that temptation and set about driving Cosmo out of his mind.

“Feet back a bit. Hands where they are. Legs wider,” he commanded, kicking Cosmo’s ankles gently but firmly apart. Cosmo shuffled to help, and Alasdair guided him with hands on his hips. The new pose now had Cosmo at a right angle with his back parallel to the floor and his hands gripping the bedpost high above his head. “Can you still see yourself?”

Cosmo twisted his head. “Yep.”

“Can you see me?” Alasdair raised his hand, staring down at all the creamy flesh of Cosmo’s buttocks. He wanted to turn them pink.

“Oh yes.” Cosmo wriggled his arse, clearly begging for the kiss of Alasdair’s palm. His breath came even faster. “Please, boss. I’ve been naughty.”

“Have you now?”

“Yes. Very naughty. I deserve to be punished.”

Oh God. He was asking for it. Cosmo was finally admitting how much he needed this. Alasdair’s heart pounded so loudly, surely Cosmo must have been able to hear it too. He took a deep breath and started to stroke Cosmo’s arse in both hands, massaging the flesh to prepare it for his reward-masquerading-as-punishment.