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Taine
When Freddie mentioned playing the bagpipes, Taine hadn’t quite believed him. He thought perhaps the man might be a bit of an armchair player. The last thing he expected was to sit on the scruffy couch in the shed and listen to him go through Amazing Grace, Going Home, and several other classic songs.
Taine applauded, honestly impressed, while Freddie carefully stowed his instrument in a wooden chest in the far corner of the room. “So, this is your childhood playhouse?”
Freddie grinned sheepishly. He wiped his hands on his trousers and glanced around the small shed. “I might’ve redecorated it a bit in my twenties.”
“It’s a brilliant place to hide.” Taine hadn’t known what to expect inside the garden variety shed, based on its outward appearance. “How much time did you spend out here as a lad?”
Freddie perched on the edge of the now closed wooden chest. “Hours. If I wasn’t in the house, or on the farm, I was in here.”
“No friends?”
“I had friends.” Freddie didn’t sound quite so confident. “A few. The cows. A few crows.”
“Crows?”
“Crows are brilliant.” He glared petulantly at Taine before the expression melted away into something that seemed melancholy. “I didn’t quite fit in with most of the kids in my school. Too happy and hyper. Too Jewish. Too—so many things.”
Taine could certainly relate to not being the average child’s idea of normal. “Is this why you give far more than you should to your patients?”
“Pardon?” Freddie tilted his head to the side, as if trying to decipher what he meant. “I give them everything they deserve.”
“Maybe.” Taine stretched his legs out in the cramped space, unable to fully spread them out. “I wondered if maybe you offered them everything you didn’t receive.”
“Leave the psychoanalyzing to the professionals.” Freddie lifted his legs up quickly to avoid Taine’s kick. “If I’m compensating for anything, it would be all the family I’ve lost to cancer. Nothing feels more helpless as a child than watching someone you love fade away, never understanding why. Those deaths are what drive me to offer every bit of comfort and assistance that I possibly can.”
It might be part of the truth, but Taine didn’t believe it was all of it. He’d seen Freddie run himself ragged for his patients to the detriment of his own health.
Sitting in silence for several minutes, Taine considered the man seated across from him. They had a good thirty minutes or so to go before tea. Whatever will we do with the time? He found the idea of creating new memories with Freddie in his clubhouse thrilling.
“Do I want to know what you’re thinking? I don’t, do I? It’s going to be something depraved and brilliant.” Freddie’s brown eyes brightened at whatever had sprung to his imagination. “You realise we can’t appear too rumpled for tea. They’d know. Not the best of impressions. We want to de-escalate the situation, not make it worse. Also, I’m distinctly lacking in lube and condoms. Never was a scout—never prepared enough to be one.”
“Freddie?” Taine waited until the rambling stopped short. “Breathe.”
“Right. Breathing.” Freddie inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Breathing.”
Freddie did have one good point. They didn’t have lubricant or condoms. Taine had explored the gamut of sex enough to know creative uses of other liquids in the place of lube usually ended messily and often painfully.
I thought I made a mental note to never think about that one time again.
Trying not to visibly shudder, Taine shoved the memory out of his mind. One of his early sexual experiences involved an experiment with using a heated pain-relieving cream. They did learn two important things: it burned like hell, and neither he nor his partner was a true sadist or masochist.
No amount of soaking in an ice bath had removed the burn entirely from either cock or arse. The suffering had lasted for several hours. It blissfully ended before a trip to the hospital became a necessity.
How the hell would we have explained ourselves?
“Taine?” Freddie tapped him on the knee with his knuckles. “What are you thinking about?”
“You,” Taine lied easily before catching the younger man by the wrist to yank him across the shed. He twisted him around to lay him across his spread knees. His hand dropped on Freddie’s trouser-covered arse. “Any ideas for how we can pass the time?”
Freddie wiggled across his legs. “Do you have any idea how painfully your muscles dig in to my ribs?”
“Budge up.” Taine swatted pert cheek to encourage him. “There you go. Comfy?”
“Is anyone ever comfortable across someone’s knees?” he asked rhetorically.
Wrapping one arm around Freddie’s back to hold him in place, Taine deftly reached underneath to loosen his belt and unbutton his trousers. He easily slid them down to the younger man’s ankles. His boxers stayed up to catch any potential mess.
Better his underwear than my trousers.
His fingers ran along several of the seams of the soft cotton boxers. Taine kept his initial touches light and gentle to balance against the periodic sharp swats. Balancing sweet pleasure with the hot heat of a good spanking required patience and concentration.
With Freddie situated in such a way that his thigh rubbed against Taine’s shaft with any movement, patience and concentration didn’t exactly come easily to him. He drew on all those years of experience on the rugby pitch that had ingrained perseverance in him. His fingers danced along the younger man’s inner thigh.
“Oh. Oh.” Freddie groaned when Taine played a staccato beat against his arse. “What—”
In the general scheme of things, Taine thought talking incredibly overrated during sex. It meant nothing if Freddie was coherent enough to chatter. The younger man didn’t manage much beyond groaning when blows of varying degrees landed on his behind.
It didn’t take long for Freddie to begin grinding his already leaking cock against Taine’s thigh. His boxers didn’t, in the end, provide much of a barrier. Taine could feel the moisture starting to spread across his trousers.
Shite.
Might have trouble explaining that to his fathers.
Ah, sod it, not my problem.
Taine dipped into the top of Freddie’s boxers. His index finger trailed along his crack, teasing the younger man’s sensitive rosebud. He tugged his hand out to resume his experiment.
How pink will his bottom be by the time he’s messed his boxers?
Or by the time I mess my own if he doesn’t quit rubbing against my damn cock.
The wriggling in his lap worked on the tight grip Taine had over his iron will. Freddie seemed to shift more wildly with each swat. It was maddening—for both of them.
His hand hovered over Freddie’s arse. He could feel the heat from the nurse’s reddened cheeks against the palm of his hand, a heady and powerful sensation for anyone who had even the barest hint of a dominant streak in their personality.
He had caused the writhing. His swats turned the pale bottom into scorching-hot flesh. The growing damp spot on their clothes started with him.
True power.
True dominance.
It all starts and ends with fanning the blossoming flames of pleasure in a lover.
Taine wanted to set a fire off in Freddie so strong not even a twenty-foot tsunami could put it out. All right, Afoa, a tad dramatic, reel yourself back a bit. He meant it, though. In the deeper parts of his heart—the ones he usually ignored—he knew this could be different.
Would be.
I’m ready for different.
A grunt from Freddie brought his attention back to more pertinent matters, like the rock-hard evidence of their arousal. Taine lifted him up a little, so their cloth-covered shafts aligned better. They both exhaled almost in unison at the sudden contact.
Yanking down Freddie’s boxers, so they rested just under his bright red arse, Taine relished in the pleasure of the palm of his hand connecting with a bare cheek. The change in sound woke the beast in his blood. His teasing glances flowed readily into searing hits that bounced the younger man in his lap.
Their entire bodies froze each time their cocks crashed into one another. Too much. Never enough. Taine gripped Freddie firmly by the arse to guide his grinding. His fingers dug into the heated skin, adding enough of a flash of pain with the thrusting that it set the younger man off on a roller coaster of pleasure.
The moans from Freddie along with his out of control writhing had Taine going off in his own pants. He wilted into the couch cushions. It took several moments before he had the wherewithal to help his captive sit up more comfortably.
Freddie dropped onto the sofa beside him with a tired grunt. “Cach.”
“So, ready for tea?” Taine teased, still a little breathless. “You made a mess on my trousers. You should lick that up for me.”
“Twmffat.”
