“It's time to get up, Micah.”
Micah groaned, stirring as sunlight touched his face after Caleb uncovered the windows.
The man rolled over, seeking sanctuary from the light in the softness of his young lover’s lap. He pressed small kisses up Caleb’s thighs, teasing spots with his teeth that made the boy moan.
“Mm, you smell so good,” Micah said with a blissful, sleepy sigh as he stroked Caleb’s bare hips with large hands.
“If you want breakfast, you’re going to have to get up.” Caleb ran his fingers through thick waves of dark hair touched with traces of gray and shifted his legs to relieve them of the added weight.
The man—his former professor—squeezed his hips to keep him still and continued kissing his way up Caleb’s legs and stomach then rose to lick the red bruises circling his nipples. Micah tongued each one, drawing restrained whimpers from the lovely boy above him before gently guiding Caleb’s back to the bed with a force that wouldn’t be resisted.
And Caleb obeyed, following Micah’s movements and carefully adjusting his legs as the man began playing with his tits which were already covered in bite marks and bruises from the night before.
Micah’s cock—thick and heavy with morning awareness—rubbed against Caleb’s thigh, eagerly pressing slick kisses onto the boy’s flesh. Micah wanted to fuck, and Caleb tried denying his wordless request by speaking against the man’s mouth as it sought his lips with small pecks and playful bites.
“M-Micah, you’re gonna be—”
“Open your legs. I’ll make it quick,” He interrupted, watching with eyes like distant storms as the boy relaxed his thighs.
Caleb did very little nowadays, so most of his muscle had faded to the smooth line of a body Micah desired most—soft, supple, and weak. Not the athletic build he gained from swimming and surfing regularly, and Caleb missed the beach. It’d been a while since he’d last visited, and the once golden hue of his skin had cooled to a faint tan.
The smell of salt and the feeling of warm sand lingered like a dream until Micah spread Caleb’s ass open, forcing a sudden cry from the boy’s lips.
“W-Wait—“
He didn’t.
Micah’s thumb pressed close to Caleb’s tender, used hole and opened it until last night’s cum dribbled out in thick lines.
A shiver ran down Caleb’s spine, and he held back the urge to squirm as the man’s finger circled and probed.
“Look how messy,” Micah said softly with a cruel chuckle, and Caleb took a moment to trace the furrows and shadows of his chiseled muscle silently.
Micah didn’t have the lean body of someone in his late forties but a form built by a determination not only to be healthy but a threat. And even under the shirts he wore, Caleb saw every muscle roll and ripple whenever Micah moved—a sight that aroused him.
“I’m sorry, I’ll clean up later.” Caleb trembled as he felt Micah smearing cum all over his swollen asshole.
“No, I like it there.” He grinned and grabbed hold of Caleb’s hips in a quick thrust forward.
The sleepy remnants in Caleb’s voice softened his moan into a long inhale with a cry at the tip.
A few months ago, Caleb wouldn’t have been able to take Micah all in one thrust, but now, his once-virgin hole had become a home to the man’s thick cock and cum every night, making it easier to slip right in. And Caleb took every inch before Micah began to move, thrusting impossibly deep with the goal of fucking his stomach.
“O-Oh, fuck, M-Micah! Micah! M-More, faster!”
Honestly, Caleb wished the man wouldn’t—moving too fast hurt his bruises and put more weight on his wounds, but Micah was careful to lift his right leg into the air to avoid putting too much stress on it.
Caleb’s hands twisted into the sheets, and his body arched as the pressure in his cock turned into a plea to be touched and stroked—though he wouldn't dare. Micah liked it when he came from only getting his hole fucked.
But, the bouncing of Caleb’s tingling erection and the messy noises his hole made around Micah’s cock forced his body to feel maiden-weak against the rough movements.
Caleb pressed the back of his hand into his cheek and hid the flushed tears of his drooling expression. Yet, after he noticed Micah looking at him with the hungry expression of a predator—he uncovered his face immediately.
The man liked his obedience—that he didn't have to say a word for Caleb to behave, and Micah rewarded him with a sudden rush of heavy thrusts that made Caleb throw back his head in another cry.
His hole tightened, and every muscle followed as a dry orgasm ripped through him—but nothing escaped his slit. And Caleb’s body was left sobbing with the desire to cum normally.
Micah fucked him for several more minutes, smiling as he caressed Caleb’s face and neck, then slammed their hips together, locking them in place. He rocked in rhythm, pushing hot torrents of cum into Caleb’s body, then relaxed with a satisfied sigh.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” He almost laughed, dazed in the aftermath of his morning rut. And he shifted.
Caleb hissed in pain, flinching after Micah touched his bandaged ankle.
The man paused, letting waves of discomfort make their way through Caleb’s body before placing a kiss over the white wraps. “Sorry,”
“I-It’s okay; it doesn’t hurt too much.” Caleb wiped the saliva from his lips.
“What about here?” Micah leaned in, speaking hotly into Caleb’s ear with an accompanying thrust of his hips, and slowly, he pulled out.
“Good, so good.” A moan rolled off the edge of his words, and he felt his hole drooling against the bed.
Micah kissed him a few times before getting out of bed and stretching his stiff muscles. And after he finished, he picked Caleb up like a young bride and carried him across the room.
It was a small and simple room—a bookshelf stacked full, a table, and a TV mounted high on the wall. There were paintings of naked goddesses and bloody scenes from the bible, a wardrobe, and some plants hanging from the ceiling.
Micah held Caleb close to his large chest as they headed toward the kitchen.
There, he put Caleb down close to the stove, minding his ankle then shaking his head.
“I wish you weren’t so careless,” He tsk’d and walked over to the hidden laundry space. “I told you not to run down those stairs.”
Caleb watched him remove a shirt from the dryer.
“Don’t worry, I know better now.” He smiled, prompting Micah to smile in return. “It won’t happen again.”
He walked over to Caleb and leaned down, kissing him deeply and helping him into the thin, loose fabric that only reached his hips. And, gently, Micah ran his hands over Caleb’s chest, playing with the peaks his nipples created under the soft material. “Your body has become so erotic now.”
Caleb suppressed a shiver as he silently struggled to keep the man’s cum from dripping down his thighs. “You should get ready for work.”
He massaged the man’s chest and shoulders, feeling not a sliver of fat. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Surprise me,” Micah smacked Caleb’s ass, forcing dribbles of hot threads down the boy’s legs before he walked out of the kitchen. “Everything you make is amazing.”
It wasn’t always like that.
Caleb used to live off frozen pizza and alcohol before he met Micah. He and his friends ate out regularly from vendors at the beach or boardwalk. But, after meeting Mich here, he found the man was a picky eater.
He liked things perfect—from how spicy he wanted his noodles to the softness of his vegetables—and Caleb learned to cook his favorites by religiously reading the cookbooks Micah brought home.
Eggs and tomatoes sizzled together in small pools of melted butter on the stove in front of him, and Caleb wondered what his mom would think if she knew he was cooking something other than microwavable dinners.
And the thought made him laugh.
But, his smile faded, and his stomach sank when he smelled something burning.
Without thinking, he tore the pan away from the burner and lifted the edge of the egg, ignoring the heat biting his skin as he confirmed they weren’t ruined.
Terror and anxiety faded under a spell of relief as Caleb leaned into the counter. But the sound of footsteps forced him to stand straight, and he reached for the paper plates.
Micah walked back into the kitchen dressed for work—a tight, dark blue button-up, black slacks, and a tie hanging undone around the bumps of his broad shoulders.
“Everything okay? I heard a clatter.” He glanced up at Caleb.
“Nothing, I just tripped on…you know.” Caleb sat both plates on the table and looked up at Micah, who gave a glance at his tie.
Quickly, or as quick as he could, Caleb limped over and adjusted the man’s tie for him.
They both sat down for breakfast and talked about all kinds of things—the class Micah taught and the things he studied; they spoke of the weather and movies, sometimes about books or the hobbies Caleb used to enjoy.
Thankfully, Micah seemed pleased with his food and ate everything down before he noticed the time. He finished his coffee, and the two of them walked to the front door together.
“Your ankle looks irritated,” Micah said, kneeling after Caleb helped him into his jacket.
Carefully, he touched the left ankle—the not-busted one—and examined the bleeding rub rash. “I’ll buy some ointment for it.”
“That’d be nice, thank you.” Caleb smiled sweetly.
Micah stood and pulled him close by squeezing his bare ass, then kissed him until he couldn’t breathe.
“I won’t be back until tomorrow night, so behave yourself.” Micah stroked Caleb’s hair, admiring its length since he mentioned numerous times that he hated women with short hair.
“Always,” He teased with one last wave as Micah left.
The door shut, and Caleb listened to each footstep grow further and further away.
Then, his stomach dropped.
All air left Caleb’s lungs in a single, painful exhale that felt like broken glass ripping his throat apart. He almost fell over but kept himself upright. And waited.
When he was confident enough that Micah had left, Caleb avoided the chain attached to his ankle and limped into his room. He peered through the barred window at Micah’s car parked in front of the building—a vacant apartment complex on the edge of the city. And there, he saw Micah walking to his car.
Caleb leaned over the bed and felt under the nightstand with his fingertips. He retrieved the bobby pin he’d hidden a few days ago and attempted to pick the lock of his shackle.
The raw wounds of his ankle bled and stabbed his nerves with pain every time the edge of metal rubbed against his skin. Tears pricked his eyes, and he wanted to throw up, thinking about how bad the pain would be if Micah broke his other ankle.
“I told you not to run.”
That voice—his voice—filled him with memories, horrible memories of Micah screaming at him, hitting him, and forcing him to hold still before—snap.
Caleb pushed back the final image, unable to recall it without wanting to cry, and he looked down at the lock. The bobby pin was doing little to nothing, and he wasn’t even sure how it was possible to pick a lock with one, but he needed to try.
He needed to get out.
Suddenly, the distant echo of footsteps made his stomach sink.
Caleb slipped the pin under the sheets and hurried off the bed, limping from the room as Micah unlocked the front door.
Pain vibrated through both feet, and tears ran hot down his face.
But Caleb needed to stop crying; he needed to keep a clear head and a smile on his face.
Micah walked inside, though he paused when he saw Caleb standing at the door. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
The man walked up to him and felt his face. “You’re sweating and out of breath—” and his voice darkened, sending rays of fury across his eyes. “Why?”
“I…I’m sorry.” Caleb tried to breathe and speak and control his tears all at once. “It’s just…my ankle hurts…so bad, but I didn’t want to say…anything. I didn’t want you to get mad.”
Several heartbeats passed, but it felt like several eternities, and he was sure Micah would be furious with his weeping. Yet, to Caleb’s relief, Micah’s eyes softened, and he placed a kiss on the boy’s forehead.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” He embraced Caleb with muscular arms, the ones that had dragged him here, forced him down for months, and broke his ankle. “It’s alright, and I’m not mad, don’t cry.”
He shushed Caleb like a small child who needed to be reminded that monsters aren’t real.
But they are real.
“I’ll come straight home tonight and bring you everything you need, okay?” Micah’s handsome smile faced Caleb, who smiled back with a nod.
Micah kissed him one last time then grabbed the messenger bag he forgot. “Love you.”
Caleb watched him, tears running hot down his cheeks as he forced a smile.
“Love you too. Come home soon.”
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