Chapter Nine

 

 

 

Roman put his arm out for Alan, ready to escort his dear sub to their first scene.

Five scenes. It was his gift to Alan. There were some things he couldn’t do for his lover, but he could arrange to have the very best do them instead. And he could watch. He did enjoy watching. Had a bit of a voyeuristic streak, one might say.

“Are you ready, Alan?”

“As ready as I can be, Master.” Alan hadn’t slept well, had tossed and turned in anticipation.

He bent and brought their mouths together, the kiss soft and gentle, meant to comfort, to soothe. Alan opened to him, breathed for him. They were doing scenes in a separate cabin, one set up with props, with cameras. One from which he could remove Alan at the end and bring him to a place that was theirs alone.

When the kiss ended, he put Alan’s hand on his arm and let his dear lover out of their cabin toward the scene cabin. The island was beautiful, serene, a perfect place for a fantasy. He thought perhaps he should buy property on an island, just to escape.

The other cabin was very near and he didn’t knock, just brought Alan in. The place was well lit, lovely. Peaceful. There was his chair in a dark corner, with a grand view.

He led Alan to the table in the middle of the room. “Sit.”

“Yes, Master.” His beautiful sub sat, legs swinging restlessly.

He glanced at his watch. Their knife Master was due any moment.

“I love you.” Alan sounded so worried.

He cupped Alan’s face. “And I love you.”

“Thank you, Master.”

The bell at the door rang.

“Enter,” he called out imperiously. These men might be Masters in their own right, but he was the true Master here.

Alan’s fingers twined with his, holding on tight.

An older gentleman came in, tall, square, dressed in leather, with a little kit that no doubt held his knives. “Good morning.”

Roman nodded. “Good morning. Master David, I presume.”

“Yeah. Nice to meet you.”

Alan’s grip never wavered.

“This is my sub, Alan. You’ve got the instructions?” He’d created meticulous instructions for each of the Masters.

“I have.” David looked at Alan. “Your safe word is battery, yes?”

Alan nodded, eyes down. “Yes, Sir.”

“I’m going to go sit and leave my boy in your hands.” He turned to Alan, squeezed his lover’s hand. “Enjoy this, love, and know that I’ll be watching every moment.”

“I…” Alan was struggling, fighting not to beg him to stay closer. His Alan was too well-trained for that nonsense, though, too disciplined.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good man.” He melted away into the shadows, settled comfortably in the chair waiting there for him.

Alan sat on the table, eyes on the floor, visibly shaken. Roman willed his sub to find his center, to focus and take the enjoyment he should feel from this.

David smiled and murmured softly, “Breathe.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I’m very frightened.”

“Let me show you my knives, my tools.” The leather kit was opened.

The kit held only a handful of knives—one large one, many tiny ones. They all gleamed in the light, looking perfectly cared for. There were also a few long needles, and a little wheel with teeth on it.

“Knife play and blood play are two very different things, and from your file, I know you’re here for the knife play. Though you may bleed a little, and your skin will carry the marks for a few days, I have no intention of leaving scars.” David had a nice voice, low and soothing, and he spoke with a careful deliberateness.

“They…they’re beautiful. Shiny.” Alan began to relax—Roman could see it in the line of the lean shoulders, in the lovely dark eyes. His sub was beautifully trained, eager and well suited to the lifestyle, once he allowed himself to breathe.

Roman began to relax as well, watching closely as David drew the knives out one by one and set them on a table next to the bed.

“Are there rules, Sir?”

“You must remain very still while I’m using the knives, and you must safe word if you need to. Do I need to tie you down?”

Alan’s eyes flashed to Roman. “Sir? What would you prefer?”

“I want you to stay still without binding.”

“Yes, Master.” The ripple that took Alan was luscious.

Roman stayed sitting forward, eager to catch every last movement.

“Then I need you to strip and lie down, please.”

“I’m not erect, Sir. I’m sorry.” Alan stripped carefully, folding each piece of clothing and baring his beautiful, barely golden skin.

“You will be. There are so many sensations for you to sink into.”

Alan had spoken the truth—his lover was not erect, not excited, but there was the promise of pleasure coming, Roman knew. Once his lover settled into the pain, into the scene, it would come.

David waited until Alan was lying on the table, then the man began to touch Alan. Long fingers slid over Alan’s skin, touching him everywhere. Alan began to relax, to breathe into the long, slow movements.

“I’m sensitizing your skin. It’s easy, as you’ve shaved yourself clean.” David leaned down and blew across Alan’s belly.

Roman’s nostril’s flared, his cock jerking as he waited for Alan’s response. Alan’s abs rippled, a soft, gasping sigh sounding. Swallowing, Roman relaxed back in his chair, hand rubbing across his own abs.

David had wonderful focus, methodically and carefully touching and blowing so that every inch of Alan’s skin was woken up. The long, thin cock began to fill, arching above Alan’s body.

“Lovely,” murmured David. “I do love a sensitive submissive.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Roman nodded. His boy was lovely.

“What made you want to indulge in knife play?”

“I didn’t. I didn’t think I wanted to, but… My Master asked me to do research, to write to him and tell him my thoughts. I found myself intrigued.”

“It’s good of your Master to indulge you by bringing me in for you.”

“He is good to me.”

Roman smiled. And some of the Masters he brought in were there to satisfy him, and his urge to see, to watch Alan’s face as he was pushed further and further.

“We’ll begin.” David picked up the large knife and Roman found himself holding his breath.

Alan’s cock wilted a bit, and his boy’s knuckles went white on the table.

“Remember that I’m not going to scar you and that you have a safe word.” David turned the knife upside down, putting the non-sharp side against Alan’s skin.

Alan gasped as if the blade had cut him, the sound sharp, wild. Roman moaned softly, so turned on his balls ached. The big blade scraped, sweet and slow along Alan’s thigh. Oh, that was…yes. He could see the welt drawing up in the blade’s wake. It didn’t cut, but the skin drew up, and Alan groaned, the sound almost a cry.

David moved the knife to Alan’s abdomen and drew it across the lean muscles. This time the sound was a cry, and Alan’s cock jerked, swelled. Roman wrapped his hands around the arms of his chair to keep from touching himself.

David hummed softly, moving the knife to Alan’s right pectoral. Alan’s cock dripped—Roman could smell it, smell his lover’s need. The welts drawing up along Alan’s body were lovely, badges of his sub’s dedication.

“I’m afraid I’ll move, Sirs.” The words were whispers.

“Then I’ll bind you.” David was as good as his word, pulling out black rope and binding Alan to the table.

“I’m sorry.” The words were soft, ashamed.

Roman shook his head—Alan was a good sub, a strong sub. If he needed to be bound, then he had done his best not to move.

“You would be sorry if you moved and I cut you too deep.”

“Yes. Yes, Sir.” Alan was tightly bound, hands up above his head. His feet were spread and tied down tight.

“This way you can enjoy the sensation without worrying about getting hurt.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Poor worried sub. Alan was good, very good. He didn’t need to stress so much. Roman thought maybe it was at least in part because it wasn’t him doing this to Alan. He just didn’t have the skills with the knife, though. And he took special joy in knowing that Alan submitted to him, submitted to his will.

“I’ll continue now.” The long scrapes across Alan’s skin continued, welts rising up wherever the dull side of the blade passed.

Steady, soft little cries pushed into the air, Alan lost in sensation, the bonds easing the man’s tension. Roman wanted to go over, stroke himself off, spray his seed on Alan’s skin. He could be patient, though. He’d let Alan have the full experience before he moved in and took his own pleasure.

“I’m changing knives.” David spoke softly, almost whispering. “This will be shorter, sharper.”

Alan’s answer was a soft moan, fingers stretching and clenching. “I’m on fire, Sir. My skin.”

“It’s going to get even bigger.”

David’s gloved fingers teased over Alan’s skin, and Roman ached at the short, needy cry.

The knife David picked up then was small and looked wickedly sharp. He began to cut Alan’s skin with it, the blade moving quickly and shallowly across the welts already on the skin.

“Oh. Oh, God. I… Master…” Alan’s eyes cut over to him, dazed, wild in their need.

“Breathe, love.” Roman watched and watched—he would remember this moment forever.

“So good, sweet boy. So very good,” David praised

The cuts moved toward Alan’s nipple, and Alan stiffened, stilled.

David didn’t cut the little bit of flesh, though, simply moved on. “You must trust me as you would your Master—he would not leave you in the hands of someone who would harm you like that.”

Roman nodded. It was true.

Alan agreed, too. “He would not. My heart is pounding.”

“Good.”

Several more quick cuts were made. Each one earned heady cries from his boy. Roman began to gasp softly, terribly aroused. He could see the pre-cum slipping from Alan’s cock, splashing on the flat belly.

David had begun to hum, the noise slightly louder each time he sliced. There wasn’t a lot of blood, more welts and scrapes, the odd drop welling here and there.

“Aches. It aches.” The sweat began to bead on Alan’s skin.

“Focus on that, on how it feels.” David spoke softly, easily. The man had incredible focus.

“Yes, Sir.” Alan’s scent was strong, heady, and Roman found his erection throbbing, wanting to be buried inside his sub’s mouth, ass, something.

“You’re doing so well. You must make your Master so proud.”

“Th…thank you. I hope so. I want to make him proud.”

“You are,” Roman growled, and David nodded, smiled. Roman could see Alan relax, breathe.

“Yes, you most certainly are. You are a joy to work with.” David’s approval was clear, up front.

Roman was glad that they’d found such a good Master to work on Alan with the knives.

Alan’s smile was a thing of beauty. “And you are a Master. My skin is…alive.”

David gave a short bow. “It is what I do.” He picked up the round instrument from his kit. It looked like a pizza wheel. “I have one last sensation I wish to share with you before we are done.”

“Yes, Sir.” Alan’s eyes closed, his lover relaxed and easy.

God, it was something else, to have given this to his Alan, to have his sub experience something so different, so intense. Soon it would be his fingers, touching the marked skin, making Alan cry out.

The pizza wheel thing had little points on it, maybe a dozen in all. David started at Alan’s feet, so far untouched, and rolled the wheel from heel to ball. Alan cried out, trying to jerk away, pulling at the bonds.

David grunted. “Don’t lose it now, boy.”

“I— I— No. No, I won’t. I didn’t expect…” Alan took a deep breath, obviously trying to ease himself.

“I’ll do it again, then, and you’ll be expecting it this time.” David did it again, running the wheel up one foot and down the other.

Alan’s toes curled, but that was it, no jerking, no pulling away. Roman bit his cheek to keep from groaning out loud. Alan made him fall in love all over again. Fall in love with his brave, strong man with such will.

The wheel traveled up Alan’s body, David moving slowly, surely, leaving a strange pattern on Alan’s bare skin. Alan started crying out, sharp, tiny little sounds. The cries were louder as the wheel passed over the welts from earlier, and Roman found himself breathing with the cries, drawing in deep breaths and letting them out as gasps.

“Master…” Alan’s eyes met his, wild, hungry, dazed.

“My beautiful sub.” He was almost trembling with the need to turn watching into touching, into making them both come.

“Yours. Yours.” Alan whimpered, licked his lips.

The strange wheel rolled across Alan’s right nipple, not breaking the skin, but the little nub had been so hard. It made Roman gasp. Alan’s eyes went wide, shocked, cheeks flushing a dark red.

“When I do it again, you can come.” The wheel rolled back, not touching the nipple this time, then it rolled once more, this time running right over the little bit of flesh again.

Alan never looked away from Roman, searching for his permission, his permission above all things. Roman gazed into those lovely eyes and smiled, nodded his head, just once. Spunk sprayed over the marked belly, Alan’s chest.

Roman made a noise and creamed himself, Alan’s perfect obedience more than he could withstand.

David breathed out, the sound shaky, the man’s erection evident in his leathers. The man would have had to be a statue not to become aroused by Alan’s beautiful and complete submission.

Roman had to clear his throat in order to speak. “Thank you, David. That was…quite amazing.”

“He is. Stunning.”

Roman nodded. “Thank you.”

He held his hand out to the man. “We couldn’t have asked for a better start to our week.”

“My boy is going to have quite the workout when I get back to my cabin. Have a fine week.” David turned to Alan, whose eyes were closed. “Thank you for your submission. You did an exceptional job.”

Alan’s answer was a soft moan.

Roman chuckled as the man left. A workout indeed—he could just imagine. Except he had his own lover here, utterly sensitized and stunningly beautiful.

“Master.” Alan stared up at him, eyes dazed, lovely.

“How do you feel, love?”

“Tingly.”

Smiling down at his lover, he stroked Alan’s cheeks. “Was it everything you’d hoped?”

Alan turned and kissed his palm. “Yes, Master. I felt everything.”

“And you were stunning.” He undid one of Alan’s hands and brought it to his crotch, pressing it against his leather-covered cock. “See?”

“Thank you, Sir.” That hand moved over him, touching.

“Mmm. Yes, make me hard again so I can come on you, on those welts and scratches.”

Alan was glowing, skin reddened and patterned, swollen.

“Tell me what you liked best.” He undid his pants, eyes on Alan’s.

“He was kind when I was frightened.” His sub didn’t respond well to threats, to anger. Alan was viciously hard on himself, striving for perfection. The challenge with Alan was always reminding the beautiful sub that sometimes submission was about failure, about breaking.

“He was. It seems to me that he’s a very accomplished Master. His boy is very lucky.” Of course, so was Roman’s boy.

“Not as lucky as I am.” Alan’s hand had his cock again.

“Mmm. Yes. Yes.” He rocked into Alan’s touch, erection sliding along his lover’s palm.

“Master. Beautiful.” The best part was that Alan believed it.

Bending, Roman kissed Alan’s lips, moving to touch the hot welts that covered Alan’s skin.

Alan cried out into the kiss, body jerking against the bonds holding his other arm, his feet. Roman loved it when Alan lost his control, when every feeling was so huge, his lover could do nothing but react.

He found Alan’s nipples with his fingers, tugged on one, then the other, earning another of those wild cries. He pressed against the welt that bisected the one nipple, moving his fingers lightly enough to feel the textures left there, then he pressed harder against the abused flesh.

“Master…”

Suddenly he wanted to bite, to tug, pull that sensitive bit. So he did, making the pain, the mark there, his. Alan groaned, hand tight on Roman’s cock, thumb working the slit, hard enough to make him scream.

“Going to come all over you,” he promised.

“Please. Master. Master. Love.” That hand moved faster, jacking him furiously.

Groaning, he worked with that hand, letting his lover pull him higher and higher.

“Yes. Yes. So fine.” Alan’s words were reverent.

“Love!” He cried out, his cock spraying over Alan’s body, painting pearly ropes onto the scraped and scratched chest.

Alan groaned, teeth sinking into that sweet bottom lip. Roman pressed their mouths together, taking that lip between his own. Alan’s kiss was wild, demanding, proving how much control was shattered. They would spend the rest of the day restoring that control, building Alan back up again.

Preparing for tomorrow.

 

* * * *

 

The whirlpool tub felt heavenly, the hot water whirling around him while he sipped a glass of merlot and soaked. No thinking. No worrying. No touching. Floating.

His Master had been very clear.

Alan heard the doorbell ring somewhere in the background, his first instinct to hurry out of the tub to answer. Getting up to serve had also been very clearly taken off the table for this evening, though.

He took another sip of his wine, eyes moving behind the blindfold he wore, trying his best to keep his mind clear.

A few moments later, he heard his Master approaching. “Are you hungry, love?”

“Yes, Master.” If he didn’t eat, he wouldn’t be able to hold the wine.

“Good. Open your mouth for me.”

Alan opened his lips, the blindfold keeping his curious eyes closed. Something round and cold was popped into his mouth, and when he bit down, the juices of a grape exploded on his tongue, echoing the merlot he was drinking.

“Mmm.” So good, so perfect. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Here comes another.” This once was smaller, a little tarter, but still just right.

“They’re luscious.” He smiled. “Perfect.”

“Like my submissive.”

He felt his cheeks heat, and he didn’t know how to react. “Sir.”

“I’ve flustered you!” Roman sounded delighted.

He pursed his lips. He was un-flusterable.

Roman’s laugh was soft, his lips warm as they pressed against Alan’s own. It was the easiest thing ever to open up, beg another kiss and another and another. His Master gave them to him, each one a little deeper than the last until they were both gasping for breath. Alan couldn’t think, could only cling to Roman and sway.

“More food,” Roman noted, breath heaving. “Before we are both too distracted to notice or care anymore.”

“Yes, sir. You, too.” He couldn’t care properly for his Master like this.

“Don’t worry, Alan. I’ll eat.” His Master chuckled, the sound fond as well as amused. “It isn’t easy for you, is it? Letting someone else serve.”

“No. No, Sir. It isn’t easy at all. Caring for your needs is…” Well, it was his life, his pleasure, his passion.

“I know, love. It’s important sometimes, though, for the shoe to be on the other foot.”

A soft piece of Brie cheese was popped into his mouth before he could formulate any reply to his Master’s words.

“Mmm.” Oh, creamy, rich. Lovely as it slid on his tongue.

“I do love to watch you eat. And like this, every morsel is an event.” Roman sounded happy, satisfied, proud.

“Everything tastes fresh, surprising.”

“Here’s another surprise, then.” This time it was a piece of fresh sourdough bread, chewy and soft and delicious.

“Oh. Oh, that’s good.” He smiled, licked his lips. The flavors were definitely enhanced by the fact that he couldn’t see the food, that he didn’t even know what it would be until it crossed his lips.

“And more.” This time his mouth was filled with a strawberry, a hint of chocolate there with it.

All he could do was moan, head back on the lip of the tub. Oh God. Those were amazing.

“That’s a great sound.” Another strawberry with chocolate slid across his lips.

So good. So fucking amazing. He chased the juice with his tongue. Another strawberry was slipped into his mouth, and Roman’s mouth followed, tongue tangling with his and the berry. He dropped his empty—he hoped—wine glass, arms twining around his Master’s neck.

His Master slid into the water with him, body pressing against his. Yes… He moaned his thanks and happiness into Roman’s mouth, hands sliding over the perfect skin. Another berry was put between their lips, Roman pushing the fruit into his mouth and stealing away the juices. Alan arched, his aching cock rubbing the inside of Roman’s thigh.

“Pushy sub,” murmured Roman, thrusting into him.

“Master.” He was empty, aching, his skin tingling and awake.

“Yes. I will fill you and make you ache and make you come. We have all evening.”

“Thank you.” He pressed closer, licking and lapping at Roman’s lips.

“You taste better than the food.”

“You are my world.” But Roman knew that—he didn’t need to say the words.

“I know, love. And you are mine, hmm?”

“Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir.”

Tomorrow’s fantasy was for Roman. There were five nights—two for him, two for Roman, then the last day for both of them.

Roman’s next kiss was all consuming, like his master was having him for dinner. Alan moaned happily, trusting his Master to keep him whole, safe, afloat. Their bodies moved easily together in the water, sliding back and forth.

“What do you need, Master? How can I please you?”

“You just need to lie there and let me get you all revved up. Then I’m going to take you to bed and make you scream as you come.”

He moaned, lips parting. He hadn’t screamed for Roman in months.

“Yes, my love. I’m going to make you scream as you come, make it so good.” Roman’s kiss held the same promise as his words.

Alan’s skin tingled, one nipple ached fiercely, and his lips swelled as Roman pressed them against his teeth. No more words followed, only Roman’s lips and tongue and hands as they moved on him, stroking his abused skin beneath the slick water. His nipple got extra attention—the pinches, the pulls, they all especially made him ache.

One of Roman’s knees slid between his legs and pressed up hard against his balls. Ache. Oh God. So good. He let himself shudder.

“Mmm. Yes.” Roman rubbed his knee back and forth, pushed it in behind.

The ache and pain and pleasure mingled together, and his eyes opened, trying to see through the blindfold.

“I want to hear your pleasure and your pain, Alan. I want to hear every noise you might make.”

“Yes. Yes, oh God, I need you.” He needed everything Roman could give him.

“I know.” Roman’s kisses moved down his throat and across his chest, teeth nipping at his skin, so sharp against the places the knife had scraped. When Roman’s teeth caught one nipple, he screamed out, the pleasure perfectly amazing.

“Yes. So good.”

Alan could hear the smug tone in Roman’s voice, as well as happiness, arousal. Love. So much love.

“Yes. Good. Need you like air.”

“I like that,” growled Roman. “I am the air you breathe.”

“Yes. My air, my heart.” He was near crazy, overwhelmed by sensation.

“Out of the water.” Roman’s hands held his, drew him up.

He followed, trusting those hands easily. This was a lesson he’d learned at the very beginning. He’d spent his first month as a sub blindfolded, needing those hands for everything he did.

“You’re at the edge of the tub, love. Step out—there’s a towel on the ground to keep you from slipping.”

Alan stepped carefully, his knees surprisingly weak after his long soak in the heat.

“It’s not far,” Roman promised him, drawing him along.

The floor was cool under his feet and he could smell flowers, the ocean. Roman stopped him and let go of his hands. The next sensation was the softest of towels, drying his skin. He gasped, hips rocking, the sensation overwhelming on his supersensitive skin.

Roman hummed, touching every inch of him. His Master even dried between his toes, behind his ears. Then Roman began to blow on him. The first puff of air made him gasp, stumble forward a step. His Master’s hand was right there, steadying him.

“Thank you, Sir. I’m sorry.”

“You know I want your reactions, no matter what they are. There is no wrong or right way to feel, Alan.” More air blew over him.

His skin pebbled up, he could feel it. And his nipples tightened, the tingle almost unbearable. Just his Master’s breath was making him crazy, making him want to scream. Roman knew it, too, had to, the way he kept blowing, kept finding new places to send the warm air rushing over him. Moans poured out of him, over and over, and he didn’t hide a single one.

Suddenly, along with the warm breath flowing over the small of his back, Roman’s warm, wet tongue slid against the little bundle of nerves there.

“Master!” His hands flailed, and his cock jerked violently as his balls drew up tight.

One of Roman’s hands slid around to grasp his belly, steady him.

“Master. Master. Love.” Right there was such a hot spot, so sensitive.

Roman stroked his belly, tongue working slowly down along his crack. Alan spread, hands, searching for a place to land and finding none. It was maddening, as was the way Roman’s tongue kept dancing toward his hole then away again. His tension ratcheted up, his body vibrating. The long fingers on his belly stroked, rubbing where the knife had scraped him.

“Master. Master, I’m burning.”

“On fire. Good.”

“Yes!” He was good. He was.

His Master’s fingers spread his ass cheeks and that wonderful tongue finally pushed inside him. Words bubbled out of him, filthy and wanton. He couldn’t help himself. Roman drove him insane. His Master tongue-fucked him and kept doing it, over and over. His cock was leaking, dripping pre-cum as he soared.

Roman’s hand dropped from his belly to his balls, rolling them, tugging lightly. Alan knew he didn’t have permission to come. He knew and he fought the urge. Roman wasn’t helping at all, tongue driving him higher and higher.

He wasn’t going to be able to stand much longer. He wasn’t. He cried out, stumbling forward. Roman caught him and moved him, pushing him over the bed, Roman’s cock filling him. He couldn’t speak. All he could do was beg with his body and feel.

So big, his Master’s flesh filled him all the way and spread him wide. That was all he needed, his world. His life.

“Love.” Roman’s cock slammed into him again and again.

“Yes.” He was Roman’s love, Roman’s boy, Roman’s life. He knew.

Roman’s hands wrapped around his hips, fingers digging into his skin.

“Yours. Yours. So good.” He was so lucky.

“Yes. Mine.” His Master’s thrusting got harder.

His balls drew up, his orgasm so close. Still, his Master didn’t give the order. Alan tried to relax, to not think about the pounding inside his ass.

“No. Feel it, Alan. Feel every second of it.”

“Master.” How did the man know?

“That’s right.”

He panted, trying to find his center, trying to give Roman what he asked for.

“No matter what I ask, you’ll do it.”

There weren’t any words left in him to answer, so he nodded.

“I know.” Two more hard thrusts against his gland and Roman leaned over him. “When I come, you can.”

Fuck, yes. That gave him a goal. He focused on his ass, on squeezing and moving and giving Roman sensation.

“Yes!” His Master began to shout, the noises almost as good as the sensation of that thick erection filling him.

Alan held on with everything he was, demanding his Master’s pleasure. Finally—finally—Roman screamed, nailing his gland hard and filling him with his Master’s pleasure.

He grunted, but his body was caught, his orgasm trapped inside him. “Fuck. Fuck, Master! Sir, please.”

Roman wrapped one firm hand around his cock, jacking him. At the same time Roman found one of the abrasions on his skin, his Master scratching at it with his fingernails.

“Yes!” Spunk poured out of him, his head slamming back.

“Yes.” Roman kissed his spine, resting against his skin.

“Thank you. Thank you, Sir.”

“Thank you, Alan. Today was a wonder.”

“I love you.” His fingers found Roman’s, held on.

“And I love you. Always.”