Fist to the Heart

Fist to the Heart Chapter 12h

Fist To The Heart – Ch. 12

By Laura S. Fox 

Copyright © 2019 Laura S. Fox 

All Rights Reserved 

Gay Erotica 

Intended for Mature Audiences Only 

This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age. 

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Chapter Twelve - It's A First Time For Me, Too

They were looking at one another over the bathroom sink, as they were meticulously brushing their teeth to go to bed. It was something so familiar in that, and Johnny could feel his chest trying to expand way beyond its means, and it hurt a little, but, more importantly, he could not remember why it was all so easy to recognize because he had never been in that kind of situation before. He was pretty sure of that.

Ruslan's eyes were shining as he looked at Johnny. It was the least sexy situation they were in that very moment, yet they could not help giving each other an eyeful. Like they couldn't live without doing that.

"Come on, to bed," Ruslan said after they rinsed their mouths one last time.

"Am I really going to sleep with you?" Johnny asked, and felt a bit like a kid for asking that.

"Where else?"

"It's a big ass house. Is your bed the only one?"

"Are you trying to tell me you don't want to sleep in the same bed with me?" Ruslan placed his hands on his hips.

Ruslan was particularly pretty when he pretended he was mad. He was like some cute animal trying to look fierce. Maybe that was why crazy assholes like that Nigel thought they could hurt him. That was something that needed to be corrected.

"I promised your dad that I wouldn't keep you up late," Johnny explained.

"Hmm. And do you always do what you're told, Johnny?" Ruslan laughed.

"It's your dad. I must listen to him," Johnny pointed out.

"And why is that?" Ruslan grinned, apparently satisfied with Johnny's answers for some reason.

Johnny frowned. "Because he lets me date you or something."

He was clearly not smart enough to figure out what Ruslan was thinking that very moment.

Ruslan teased him. "Snake got domesticated."

"Hey," he protested.

Ruslan was bent on making him chase him to the bedroom. Johnny didn't have to pick up the pace much as he hurried after the other. He caught Ruslan's raised hands, probably in surrender, and made him stumble toward the bed.

"Do you think I'm domesticated?" He looked Ruslan straight into his deep blue eyes.

Ruslan just nodded and grinned.

"Then I should take you so hard tonight that you won't be able to sit right tomorrow," Johnny said, trying to sound menacing, but failing, by how Ruslan's eyes were glinting with mischief. "Ah, but you want that, don't you? So the real punishment would be," he let his words in suspension a little, "not to fuck you at all."

Ruslan made such a funny face that Johnny burst into laughter.

"You're kidding," Ruslan said. "Please tell me you are."

It wasn't like Johnny to resist when Ruslan was begging like that.

"Okay, you win, pretty." Johnny shook his head. "I'll fuck you. But gently."

Ruslan pouted.

"Yeah, and I'm serious," Johnny said. "I need all my strength to go against your daddies tomorrow."

"My daddies?" Ruslan's smile widened. "I know, right? It's like that with them. They both took care of me, just like a family would."

"Did your mom pass away a long time ago?" Johnny asked.

Ruslan shrugged. "I never met her."

Johnny knew he needed to stop. Ruslan's enthusiasm had vanished a little. It wasn't a good time to ask him about his dead mother.

"Let me hold you tonight," Johnny said without thinking.

The least he could do was to offer some comfort. Ruslan threw him a pleasant smile.

"Fuck me slowly or hard, just how you want, Johnny." Ruslan leaned in for a soft kiss. "I like being yours so much."

That wasn't the kind of proposition he could refuse. He could do that, fuck the man gently, and hold him tightly and show him why he mattered, even if only to a shmuck like Johnny `Snake' Bryne.

Ruslan's skin under his fingers was smooth, as Johnny reached inside the other man's clothes. So smooth it felt unreal, just like anything else about this man. Johnny was not one for foreboding prophecies, but he could feel it, even in a quiet, pleasant moment like that; good things like this had a price. What it was and how he would pay it, he didn't know.

But that was something he knew - that he would do everything, everything he could, with every muscle and bone in his body, to pay that price. No matter what it was and what it asked of him.

Ruslan laughed softly as Johnny leaned in to draw a wet trail from the now exposed chest down on the lean abdomen muscles, stopping just for a bit of teasing around the belly button, and then going for the kill.

"Ah, Johnny," Ruslan whispered, and his long fingers were soon in his lover's hair, caressing, pulling, running through with gentleness well balanced by impatient and arduous roughness.

Johnny thought he knew what he liked most in Ruslan, yet the man still surprised him. Right now, even though he was a guest in that fancy house, Ruslan was treating him like an equal, like someone who deserved to be by his side, despite how different their worlds were.

"Could you hurry?" Ruslan pleaded with him. "I know how much you like to suck my dick, but I'd like to head over to the main course."

"Which is?" Johnny teased.

"Ha-ha," Ruslan said curtly, without one sign that he was amused.

"C'mon, pretty, you have to say it," Johnny insisted.

"Say what?" Ruslan teased in turn.

"Say: come on, Johnny, fuck my sweet ass already," Johnny used a whiny tone on purpose.

"I don't talk like that." Ruslan pushed himself up on his elbows and glared.

"My bad. I can't remember how you do sound. Remind me, pretty," Johnny said slowly.

"Oh, damn, so clever ... What should I do with you now?"

Johnny laughed. "Be a good boy and beg for my cock."

He was busy taking up Ruslan's cock out of his pajama pants and playing with the tongue around the head. Ruslan was delicious and elegant everywhere.

"Johnny, be a good boy and fuck me already," Ruslan ordered, but his voice was growing a bit breathily like he could not quite control it.

Johnny smirked, looking at Ruslan. "Then get on all fours, and I'll give you a ride."

The pretty man obeyed without protest. He was an expert at throwing away his clothes, and then placing himself on the bed, in the most proper position Johnny had to admit he had seen in his life.

He only needed to reach out and touch. Pushing apart the beautiful ass cheeks, he peered at the small hole. It was clear Ruslan had been fucked earlier that day, but his ass still looked good like that. Johnny put himself in position so that he could lick Ruslan as he deserved.

"Oh, fuck," Ruslan whispered. "You're so good with your tongue, Johnny, you know?"

"Aw, thanks." Johnny laughed and gave the little hole another long lick. "Then I'll stick here for a while."

"Don't you dare," Ruslan threatened. "Don't just stick there. Stick it in there. Catch my drift?"

"I think I do, pretty." Johnny got to his feet and sauntered by the bedside to grab the lube.

Ruslan had put it on the nightstand for easy access. It made Johnny feel all giddy inside and ready to admit defeat that Ruslan thought about all these things.

But there had been enough teasing. Now he needed to show him why he deserved to be considered a boyfriend. Ruslan wanted a fucking, and he would get a fucking, no questions asked. Johnny would fuck him into the next century if need be.

As he pushed himself slowly inside, he took his time to admire Ruslan's gracious back. He had moves. It made Johnny jealous to think that there had been others before him, watching Ruslan from above like that, sinking their dicks in that incredible ass, and thinking that they had him, that Ruslan, somehow, belonged to them.

No one was allowed to think that. Each thrust came with a sense of possessiveness that was scary. Johnny wasn't fighting it. Fear never scared him. Anyone hearing him saying that could tell him he was stupid. But it was the damned truth.

Ruslan moaned and arched his back, pushing his ass into Johnny's cock. "Oh, fuck, Johnny, you have such a great cock," he whispered.

"Do you want me to jerk you off?" Johnny asked.

"No." Ruslan shook his head. "I want to come from your dick; it's just so good."

Each word was a staccato whisper, Johnny carefully increasing the rhythm and getting more and more inside, deeper and harder. He had made a promise to Ruslan to take him slowly, but he could not fully keep it. It was beyond his means at the moment, and he was losing himself a little, but it was okay.

"How are you holding up, pretty?" Johnny asked.

"I'm close, I'm close," Ruslan confirmed. "Don't stop; just fuck me harder!"

It was just what he wanted, too. They were so on the same page when it came to sex that it was uncanny.

His heavy breathing mingled well with Ruslan's moans, louder and louder. Good thing there were no neighbors to worry about. They could bring the house down, and they couldn't care less.

"So good, fuck, so good, Johnny!" Ruslan shouted and, by how his lithe body was convulsing, he was coming, as promised, without touching himself.

Johnny knew he had to be thankful for such mercies. So he came, too, with a loud growl, keeping Ruslan's hips so tightly that he knew he would leave marks.

As he withdrew, his cock was still hard, and there was a rope of semen between him and the other that broke as soon as he pushed himself back. He could stay there and look at that beautiful ass, so generous in taking him, taking everything from him, too, in the process.

He could not watch for long. Ruslan let himself drop on the bed, and then he rolled away to look at him.

"Stop giving me that smug look," Ruslan teased him, but his eyes were smiling.

"I'm not," Johnny protested.

But he was smiling, too, and not only with his eyes.

"So you won't pout if I send you to sleep with just one time?" Johnny hurried and caught him under his weight as he pushed Ruslan into the bed.

Their naked bodies weld together. That was how they were.

"Somehow, it's enough when I'm with you," Ruslan said and pushed one hand through Johnny's sweaty strands of hair.

Johnny laughed. "I'm glad then."

"Don't get complacent, though." Ruslan pretended to be all serious but burst into laughter right away.

"Why are you laughing, pretty?" Johnny looked deep into his eyes.

"I don't know," Ruslan replied, and just laughed harder.

"Let me take you to the shower," Johnny offered. "Like naughty boys, instead of sleeping, we chose to fool around."

"Oh, are you complaining?" Ruslan glared this time.

"Not one bit," Johnny replied. "Hop up. I need to care for you, you know?"

"And that includes washing me?" Ruslan smiled.

"Among many other things," Johnny said. "And it's my pleasure to carry you around."

It was his pleasure to do everything with Ruslan, Johnny thought. And, by that, he meant everything.

***

He hadn't lied one iota. Ruslan knew that with the utmost clarity, that Johnny was doing a great job at satisfying him. His body did crave the man, but he was also left satisfied, and that was not something he could tell about anyone else in his life. Not even Yanis.

And now it was morning, and he felt like he hadn't slept that well in years. Maybe at first after his papa had saved him and his friend from that terrible place. By all means, his nights should have been plagued by nightmares, but that hadn't happened. Under his adoptive father's roof, he had finally felt safe. And that had given him restful nights like never before.

Once he had insisted on becoming more independent and living on his own, the feeling of security had waned. But Ruslan wanted to be strong by himself, and he could not do that if he were to live forever in the old man's shadow.

Yet, right now, a premiere since leaving his papa's side, he had slept so well, his head resting on Johnny's magnificent chest, his strong muscles the best pillow he could have. Johnny's soft, rhythmic breathing had lulled him to sleep, and he could not remember when he had fallen asleep.

Now it was morning, and Ruslan searched with one hand for his bed partner. Johnny was sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with a phone.

"Hey," he called in a sleepy voice.

"Hey, I didn't mean to wake you up." Johnny half turned. "Did you set your alarm to wake me up?"

Ruslan noticed only then that Johnny was holding his phone.

"Yeah," he said with a smile.

"You didn't have to." Johnny smiled back. "It's like I have an internal clock. I always know when to wake up. When I heard your alarm, though, I thought I was in the army or something. Also, I didn't want to wake you up. You're a bit of a late sleeper, aren't you?"

"Correct." Ruslan stretched and moved to sit by Johnny's side.

Johnny moved the phone from one hand to another.

"I didn't mean to be nosy," Johnny said a bit guiltily. "I just wanted to look at that picture you took yesterday."

Ruslan kissed his lover's cheek. "Don't worry. I don't have anything I'd keep hidden from you. Here, give it to me."

Ruslan navigated quickly through the menus to find the picture.

"Look at us," he said with a chuckle and held the phone so that Johnny could look at the picture while he sneaked one hand around his waist. "You look like a little lamb ready for sacrifice." He giggled.

"Hey, I was about to meet your old man," Johnny pointed out, a bit gruffly.

"And you made a great impression on him. I told you. That's big. And you are in his graces, too."

Johnny used one hand to trace invisible lines over the screen.

"You're beautiful here. So beautiful," Johnny said pensively.

There was a change in Johnny, Ruslan could tell. And maybe, just maybe, it was the same change taking place inside him, but he wasn't ready to start comparing notes. So he laughed.

"I had no idea you could be such a sentimentalist, Johnny." Ruslan ruffled his hair. "Let's send this pic to your phone since you like it so much."

"Is it wrong of me to like it so much?" Johnny's question sounded clumsy like the words were boulders tumbling down a steep hill.

Almost like a disaster in the making. But Ruslan felt like he was at the foot of the hill, waiting to embrace the rolling stones, and run away with them, like a river of bedrock on the move.

"No." He shook his head. "I like it. That you like it. That you like me."

There was no poetry left in him, except for stunted phrases and repetitive words. For a few seconds, they looked at each other, and their eyes said more than what their tongues and throats and vocal cords could.

"I knew you had to get up early," Ruslan said. "That's why I set up the alarm." He gestured with the hand holding the phone, eager to change the topic.

"Thanks." Johnny nodded. "I guess I need to go. Your daddies are slave drivers."

Ruslan laughed.

"I'd say they're no worse than you. Ah, let's not forget." He looked at his phone. "There. Sent to yours."

Johnny moved to take his phone and seemed lost in thought as he thumbed through something.

"I made it my wallpaper." Johnny waved the phone for Ruslan to see it with an almost childish grin on his rough face.

"Ah, I had no idea it took so little to make you happy." Ruslan smiled. "We'll take many other pictures then. We'll fill up a few albums if you want."

Johnny seemed to consider. "This one's special," he said, and his dark eyes were filled with warmth as he looked over at Ruslan.

It should have been easy to ask just what Johnny meant by that, but Ruslan felt that the moment was perfect as it was.

Only several minutes later, Johnny was out the door, ready to meet Ruslan's papa and Martin for the training session of his life. If he had been honest, Ruslan would have admitted that he should have warned Johnny more about how seriously boxing as a sport was taken in that family. But Johnny was quick to think on his feet. Ruslan had no reason to worry about him.

There were other things to worry about. Like how fast they were going. Like why he didn't mind. Why he was, actually, the one to pull all the strings to make it happen.

It. Ruslan didn't dare to call it by its name. But he lay on the bed, his eyes on the ceiling, looking at nothing, mainly because his entire attention, everything was turned toward the inside, and there only one question seemed to live.

Was he falling for Johnny `Snake' Bryne?

***

Johnny could not say he expected what was right now in front of his eyes. Ruslan's papa had something like a ring at his house. And both his lover's daddies were there, dressed in tees and shorts like they were ready to get on with the training as usual.

He stole a glance, hoping he wouldn't be considered rude for staring. Without his fancy clothes, Mr. Kent looked lean and muscular. Martin, on the other hand, looked more like a bull. In his case, the butler livery hid quite an impressive physique.

Both men looked good, and not only for their age. They looked like they could take men twenty years their juniors. Johnny gulped nervously, as he moved to greet the two. He had been instructed to enter and find the place, so there he was. Now what?

Douglas and Martin seemed deep in conversation, talking in hushed voices. Johnny cleared his throat to let them know he was there.

"Johnny." Mr. Kent welcomed him with a smile.

Martin, quiet as usual, just nodded.

"Let's warm you up." Mr. Kent gestured for him to climb into the ring.

Without wasting words, Johnny obeyed. Mr. Kent began giving him orders spoken in a soft, yet firm voice. Johnny glanced over at Martin who was doing the same thing. He wasn't easily impressed, but, right now, he could not take his eyes off Martin.

Now he knew that he should not have joked about sparring with the quiet butler. Martin looked like he could take Johnny. Maybe not beat the crap out of him, seeing how he wasn't as young as his opponent, but Johnny knew great shape when he saw it.

"Great," Mr. Kent said. "Now let's see what you got, Johnny. Martin, please, grab the training pads."

For a while, they opted for some routine moves. Douglas was correcting Johnny on the go, in the same mild-mannered voice.

"Let's see the two of you spar now," Mr. Kent said shortly.

Johnny could feel his blood getting warm. Martin didn't look ready to break into a sweat, but he hadn't been the one punching the training pads for the last half an hour. Now, shit was about to get real.

And he had no idea if he should hold back anymore. As Johnny raised his eyes to meet Martin's, he knew.

The eyes of a real fighter were like that, impenetrable, not letting anything in. There was a lot to learn from staring into your opponent's eyes. You could tell if you were going against some crazy man, or against one who knew to strategize.

"Fight."

The order was short and precise. Keeping his guard up, Johnny began moving slowly toward his target. Martin looked undisturbed. A small move, as if Martin was trying to shake off one gloved hand, was his cue. He moved fast, reaching for the opening, but Martin stepped out of his way with grace uncharacteristic to a man of his size.

Johnny realized too late he had been tricked. Martin's gloved fist grazed over his side, not too hard, but enough to draw his attention.

"Stop. What did you do wrong, Johnny?" Mr. Kent asked.

Johnny shrugged. "I got fooled."

"Not entirely correct. Where were you looking?"

"At his fists," Johnny replied.

"You need to widen your horizon. Body language is often more important than positioning. If you had paid attention, you would have been able to tell Martin's intention. Let's try again. Fight."

Johnny shook his head. This was a whole different level. These guys knew head games. For a little while, he proceeded in the same manner, moving slightly to one side and the other, waiting for an opening.

Martin was a boulder, he was that unmoved. And then, in an instant, Johnny caught it. The little cue that he could invade the other's space. But, just as soon, he noticed Martin moving one foot forward, and then he knew.

He feigned a move and executed Martin with his non-dominant hand instead. The man stumbled backward, and Johnny froze. He was not supposed to beat up his lover's daddies. What the fuck was he thinking?

"Very good." Mr. Kent praised him from the sideline. "Don't worry about Martin. His chin is made of pure granite."

Johnny looked over at his sparring partner. Indeed, Martin seemed unshaken.

"All right. Let's go again."

Johnny positioned himself. Martin was entirely made of granite, he would soon learn. Over the next couple of hours, Ruslan's dad took him through so many tricks he was sure he already forgot half of them.

At the end of their session, he was breathing hard, he felt beaten, and was sure that he was one lucky fucker never having met an opponent of that caliber in his life.

Mr. Kent handed him a bottle of water and then threw one at Martin.

"What do you say, Johnny?" Mr. Kent asked him. "Is it any good to train with a couple of old timers like us?"

Johnny worked his shoulder.

"Old timers, my ass," he said under his breath.

Mr. Kent laughed. Even Martin smiled. That had to count for something.

"Come now. A little stretching."

Johnny had to admit Mr. Kent did nothing by half. After following the directions, he felt about half less beaten.

***

"Were you some big name boxer in your days, Martin?" Johnny addressed the butler as they sat at the table.

"Nothing fancy," Martin waved. "I just took part in a few local events where I used to live. Then I found something more important to fight for."

The small exchange between the master of the house and his butler wasn't lost on Johnny. Ruslan was right. There was something between the two. But they weren't upfront about it. Or maybe he was trying to read too much into everything.

"How come Ruslan is so helpless in a fight with the two of you around?" Johnny questioned.

Mr. Kent laughed wholeheartedly. Martin shook his head in mirth.

"Russy, unfortunately, can be quite a stubborn brat when he wants. He says he doesn't like violence. I assume he's a bit too vain about his looks. And training too hard would, according to him, make him lose some of those looks. Also, I had trouble getting him to wake up early in the morning. We could not have dreamed of making him do even more."

Johnny felt all warm on the inside. He was in this fancy house, at this fancy table, eating prime cut steak, and sharing laughs with Ruslan's papa. He had to be dreaming. Stuff like that was not supposed to happen to guys like him.

"He still needs to learn a bit of self-defense. Just so that crap like that with that Nigel dude doesn't happen again. Shit, sorry I said crap, sir." Johnny caught himself too late.

This time, even Martin laughed.

"No worries. In this house, we may not curse, but we are well aware of people with silver tongues and just as poisonous. Talking to a frank person like yourself, Johnny, is a breath of fresh air." Mr. Kent was smiling as he said those words.

"You are better company than the usual visitors," Martin added.

The usual visitors? What was that supposed to mean? Johnny looked over at Mr. Kent who seemed pensive all of a sudden.

"I want you to take care of Ruslan, Johnny," Mr. Kent said.

He nodded solemnly. "Of course."

"He is stronger than he looks, but, well, let's just say that I feel better knowing that someone as strong as you has his eyes on my Russy."

"You have my word, sir." Johnny felt like he needed to kneel and be knighted, that solemn the atmosphere was.

"You are a man of honor. I am glad Russy met you. If it hadn't been for you, I would not have forgiven myself for pushing my boy into that scoundrel's arms."

"No need to mention it, sir." Johnny hurried to say. "You know what? I'll convince Ruslan to learn some self-defense moves. He can't say `no' to me."

"That's a brilliant idea." The old man's face lit up. "I am confident you will succeed where we failed. Now, while Martin takes care of the table, come with me."

Johny addressed Martin his thanks for the meal and followed Mr. Kent in an adjoining room. As the man took a box from the table, Johnny frowned a little.

"There's no need for gifts, sir. I will take care of Ruslan anyway." He protested, and his eyes were soon met by stern ones.

"In the ring, Johnny, you need every edge. You are correct. This is a gift. But these gloves have been in the family for many years. Don't worry. They are in pristine condition, and they undergo regular maintenance under Martin's watchful eyes. I want you to have them. Not for training, but for when you climb into the ring, and you have doubts."

Johnny took the gloves from Douglas's hands. He checked them. He had heard of such gloves, but he had never worn a pair. The padding was thicker around the wrists, but thinner around the fist. That meant they were designed to make a man with an efficient punch destructive in the ring.

"That's not exactly the kind of stuff I'm in," he eventually said.

"I know. You wear different gloves. But I don't give you these gloves to wear them in the ring. They are meant as a gift that tells you how much I trust in your abilities as a fighter. I know what you are going to tell me. Something like the fact that you trust yourself enough, perhaps? And that you don't need further validation from someone else. These gloves tell you something, Johnny. And that is that we have your back."

To say he was touched would have been an understatement. He caressed the thick leather with reverence.

"I wouldn't know where to keep them, sir. Or what to do with them. Or how to take care of them."

"Don't worry." Mr. Kent squeezed his shoulder. "Martin will give you pointers. And give them to Russy and tell him that I need him to find a place for your gloves. He will know what to do. Consider this gift a token of my appreciation, Johnny. Since you wouldn't take my money and I can appreciate that, it is the least you should accept from me."

"I am honored, sir." Johnny bowed.

"I believe I've taken enough of your day. Russy wouldn't forgive me if I kept you longer."

"It's been a pleasure to be trained by you," Johnny said.

"Don't think this is all." Mr. Kent patted him on the back. "Twice a week, swing by. We need to hammer into your brain and muscles all these teachings. We haven't told you half of it. Actually, we have given you very little. I'll be glad to have you as a fixture to our ring and our house. Dinners can be a boring affair from time to time. I will tell Russy to bring you over."

"Thank you, sir. I don't know what to say."

Johnny looked down. He was overwhelmed, that was what he was. Could it be that a bit of happiness was straying down his street once in a lifetime?

"Martin will show you off. Unfortunately, duty calls and there is plenty of correspondence to take care of."

Johnny murmured his goodbyes. Someone had his back. In that wild and grim world, someone finally had his back. And it felt friggin' nice.

***

"Are you kidding me? He gave you THE gloves?" Ruslan's eyes grew as big as saucers.

One look at Johnny told him how smug Ruslan was about it all, and also happy, by the size of that grin.

"Yeah. He told me you'd know where to put them and such. What's the deal with these gloves? I mean, they're pretty awesome, but they're not for training or the ring."

"It is the same pair with which Martin fought some big match when they were both young and stupid. Their words, not mine," Ruslan said defensively. "So they have this huge sentimental value. Wait, what did papa tell you when he gave them to you?"

"He told me that he has my back from now on." Johnny's smile was as big as the sun.

Ruslan threw his arms around Johnny and hugged him.

"This is huge! I mean, Johnny, nobody, absolutely nobody, is ever good enough for me, according to papa! Well, at least the guys I like. Martin may seem like he's on my side, but I'm sure he sides with papa the moment I'm not looking. Damn, I'm so happy!"

"You won't be so happy when you hear what I have in store for you." Johnny's smile seemed a little mischievous now.

Ruslan frowned a bit. Hmm, what could have his papa and Martin told Johnny? Oh, no, they were all going to insist that he should eat more. He was almost sure that was it.

"Are you going to force feed me?" Ruslan asked, staring at Johnny through his eyelashes.

"Force feed you? I won't have to do that. When I'm through with you, you'll ask for food yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean? Having sex with you makes me sleepy, not hungry." Ruslan felt the need to argue.

"Nah, pretty, that's not it. Guess again?"

"I have no idea what you mean." Ruslan shrugged, to show that he wasn't worried.

"You'll have to train with me and learn how to take care of yourself. You don't want your skinny ass handed to you when I'm not around, do you?"

Johnny's eyes were shining. The guy was having so much fun at his expense. Ruslan wasn't amused.

"Skinny ass? You know well it's not skinny!" He chose to protest.

"Don't try to change the subject, pretty. I'm going to teach you. Your papa's orders."

"Ah, then it's easy. Papa loves me. So if I refuse, he won't do anything."

"Maybe he won't, but I'm not your papa. You'll learn how to defend yourself, or I'll find ways to get you to obey."

Ruslan rolled his eyes. Johnny was bent on this; he could tell. But if there was someone who could wiggle his way out of something like this, that someone was him.

So he smiled sweetly at Johnny. "But, Johnny, look at me. Would you really like me if I had muscles this big?" He gestured with his hands, trying to make a point.

"No one's asking you to start lifting weights," Johnny said. "Of course, I'm sure you can't lift for shit."

Right now, Johnny was trying to challenge him and make him feel a bit ambitious about proving him wrong.

He wasn't usually that easy to stir, but, in this case, he would make an exception. Ruslan set his chin high. "I can't lift for shit?" He scoffed. "I can assure you that I'm not that helpless."

"I'm sure you're so helpless that no other guy in the entire town's as helpless as you are."

Hmm, Ruslan thought and pursed his lips. Johnny was a bit too good at getting a rise out of him. He was almost taking the bait. Almost.

"You know, I have my weapons," he said with a smile he hoped seductive.

"Nah, pretty, you're not going to use this on me. Not this time." Johnny brushed the tip of his nose.

Ruslan glared. "Why are you so bent on getting me to train or whatever?"

"There's nothing I want more but to have you in my sight twenty-four-seven. But I can't. And there are creeps in this world who'd stop at nothing when seeing someone pretty and helpless as you."

"Oh, damn, so it's about the incident with Nigel." Ruslan sighed deeply. "The guy had me drugged, just for the record. Of course, I could not do much under the circumstances."

"So, if you hadn't been drugged, you would have floored the guy?" Johnny crossed his arms over his chest and looked at him, his face all a frown.

Ruslan opened his mouth to reply.

"You couldn't have done that," Johnny replied in his stead. "Because the guy is bigger and stronger than you."

"And? It's not like I can suddenly become bigger and stronger than I am," Ruslan said with a shrug.

"You can get smarter, though. Let me teach you a few moves, pretty. I promise you won't get muscles this big." Johnny mimicked his gesture from earlier.

Johnny had a point, Ruslan admitted to himself.

"All right," he said. "Feel free to torture me with whatever you have in mind. But if I'm too exhausted to fuck later, it's all your fault, so that you know."

"I assume full responsibility," Johnny said solemnly. "And don't worry. I can fuck you while you're half asleep."

***

Ruslan could not believe he was doing this. There was an underlying motive of why he wasn't crazy about learning how to fight. As much as he liked strong men the best, the simple idea of going against someone like that was making him weak in the knees, and not in a fun way. He was terrified, mostly because he knew he wouldn't stand a chance, and also because the idea of hurting physically was repulsive to him.

"Self-defense is not about fighting fair," Johnny began. "So what I'm showing you here are pretty much dirty moves."

Ruslan nodded, feeling as much as a fish out of the water as he had felt since they had entered his home gym.

"So go for the eyes."

"The eyes?!" Ruslan was sure he looked pretty much terrified only hearing that piece of advice.

"If you're in a position where you can hurt the guy's eyes, do it," Johnny said curtly. "Don't use your stretched fingers though. Use your knuckles. The point is to inflict as much damage as possible within the shortest time. While your attacker is busy clutching at his eyes and calling for his momma, you get busy running."

"Running?" Ruslan asked, fairly surprised.

"Yes. Don't stay and fight. Just buy yourself enough time to get to safety. Other areas to hit are the nose, the neck, the knees, and, of course, the crotch."

"Wow, Johnny, I thought you would be the last guy to teach me how to hit a man in the balls."

"It's only for life or death situations. Otherwise, don't do it," Johnny said shortly. "Are you ready now?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Ruslan replied.

"Good. Let's go."

Just sighing and complaining wouldn't save him from this. Ruslan shrugged. It was for the better to get it over with.

***

"So how was it?" Johnny whispered into his ear while the warm water slushed down their bodies. "Not so bad, right?"

"I guess," Ruslan said softly and brushed his lips against his lover's mouth.

Johnny's hands were rough as they traveled down his back. Ruslan knew how much he affected the other. And it was enough for him to feel all giddy inside, and also, something that wasn't that familiar to him.

It was power. Johnny was taller, heavier, stronger, skilled at fighting, yet his dark eyes were vulnerable when they are staring at each other like that. Johnny was opening a door for him to go through, and it was enough to fill Ruslan's heart to the brink.

"I promised your dad I'm going to take care of you."

"And that's all the reason you need to do that, right?" Ruslan snickered.

A hand was in his wet hair while the other was firmly grabbing his ass. Ruslan liked to feel restrained like that. Johnny was asserting his power, too, even if his was more of the physical kind.

But no, that wasn't what Johnny was doing. He was holding Ruslan, taking care of him, just like he had promised. In the meantime, he was expressing his biggest weakness, too, which was how much he wanted Ruslan. Even if that need was merely physical, it mattered.

Instead of an answer, Johnny brought Ruslan's lips to his. It was so intense, whatever it was that both were feeling. Like their next breath was depending on kissing the other. Ruslan liked that. He liked that so much that he wanted to be able to grab Johnny just as hard, and kiss him, and hold him close, and tell him that he wasn't allowed to leave ever.

Ruslan couldn't stand fear. He had known plenty of it and wanted none. Although he was well aware that wasn't possible, he wasn't one to invite it in his life. But, right now, he was pushing the door wide open, and he was letting Johnny in, just like Johnny was letting him, and that meant that fear was coming, too.

No matter how hard it was to shut it down, Ruslan was willing to try. It was Johnny kissing him, responding, as it was his habit more often than not, with his actions rather than his words, but Ruslan was kissing back, too.

Their bodies were warm under the hot shower and slick, and Ruslan felt something akin to a rush as they rubbed against each other like rutting animals. Johnny pulled his head away, his hand still buried in Ruslan's hair, looked him in the eyes, and then suddenly made him turn.

Ruslan yelped when a heavy hand swatted his ass, not too hard, but enough to make him assume the position. He arched his back and lifted his buttocks, eager for some action. The water running down his back was pure bliss, relaxing, a contrast to how Johnny was handling him.

He heard Johnny spit and braced for it. It wasn't like him to say `no' even if it were a bit of a rough ride. But Johnny, even when he was like this, was thoughtful. Skillful fingers were opening his passage slowly, stopping to add more and more of the improvised lube.

"Oh, damn, you're going to take all night, aren't you?" Ruslan threw sassily over one shoulder.

Johnny growled in response, but Ruslan knew his impatience amused the other. Within such a short time, he had come to learn the tiniest changes in Johnny voice or the sounds he was making. That level of familiarity was scary, too.

Ruslan gasped as Johnny's cock made contact with his hole. But he didn't push in, but teased the opening, brushing his cock over and over again over the sensitive skin. Johnny was such a teaser, and Ruslan needed more.

"First time you're going anal with a guy?" He teased Johnny, no matter how big the risk.

"Yeah," Johnny teased back. "There's this little hole, and I'm supposed to put my cock inside it. I have no idea how others do it."

"It's actually quite simple," Ruslan said while lifting his ass higher and pushing it against Johnny's cock. "You're starting to push, and that's when the magic will start happening."

"What magic? Will my dick shrink?" Johnny snickered.

"Oh, damn, do I have to spell it for you? That's why I don't do novices," Ruslan replied with a small huff.

Johnny's hand left his hair and grabbed him by the back of his neck. Ruslan liked that, too. With a small grunt, Johnny began pushing inside, going in slowly, letting Ruslan adjust to his girth.

"You're a very promising novice," Ruslan said.

"Thanks. The magic you were talking about was your hole getting bigger, right?"

Johnny had his big cock in his ass and still wanted to joke. Ruslan moved a bit brusquely, and his ass swallowed half of Johnny's magnificent sword. A short, but louder grunt, was the response.

"Someone likes to live dangerously," Johnny whispered into his ear.

"Just a bit," Ruslan said and gasped as his lover pushed himself inside even more.

Johnny was not usually talkative, except for the usual praises and how he liked to express his wonder at Ruslan's body taking him in like that. But there were changes in that, too, and Ruslan loved, loved it to the death, that he could get this brooding man to open up like that. Ruslan could tell that what he had with Johnny was precious.

There was no longer time to find meaning in what was happening between them. Holding him in place, Johnny began to ride him, amply, slowly, at first, then settling into a rhythm that was nothing short of ideal for both of them.

Ruslan could feel the other filling him, so much that there wasn't room for anything else. Their lovemaking, because that was what it was, confirmed his fears, but there was nothing he could do about it, anyway. Now, for the first time in his life, he could depend on a stranger, someone who wasn't Yanis or his papa or Martin.

But he was wrong. Johnny was not a stranger. And not only because he knew how to fuck Ruslan's brains out, and leave him satisfied, and wanting more at the same time, yet without that permanent ache that had been making him feel restless and incomplete all his life.

He wasn't aching for Johnny's touch. He was yearning for him, which was a different matter because it went as deeply as his fear. The fact that he could do nothing to stop it was a force in itself. Ruslan was ready to admit defeat, whatever it meant.

Johnny was a skillful, amazing lover. He knew how to angle his cock that Ruslan felt a small shiver with each brush over the sensitive spot inside his ass, and this small shiver was growing in intensity, too, bringing tears to his eyes from too much stimulation.

When he felt Johnny's hand wrapping around his cock, Ruslan whimpered against himself. What had been good before was amazing now. He could fuck himself into Johnny's closed fist while he was hammering his prostate. He went so fast down the slope of no return that he couldn't care less what happened when he would hit the ground.

"Fuck, Johnny, fuck, this is so fucking good," he moaned over and over again, as his body tensed and his cock started to shoot all over the wall in front of him.

"Hold on tight, pretty," Johnny almost hissed, by all signs, stretched to his limits just as well.

Ruslan closed his eyes and focused on how his ass was turned into a cock sleeve for the other, enjoying the way he could feel Johnny coming in short bursts, doubling the sensations sparked by the strong fingers digging deep into his hips and holding him there.

They were both out of breath when they finally straightened up.

"We should wash, I guess," Ruslan mumbled.

"I guess so, too." Johnny pulled him close to his body, making him toss his head back and feel the other's rough cheek against his.

***

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Johnny asked. "Is it always like this?"

"What do you mean?" Ruslan asked.

"Do you always treat your men like this?"

"My men?" Ruslan turned to look at Johnny's profile.

There was enough light in the room, from the bedside lamp. It was like neither of them was yet willing to go to sleep, so neither was reaching for it to turn it off.

"You know. The other guys."

Ruslan sighed. "Does it bother you? That there were others before you?"

Johnny didn't reply.

"Okay, let me put it differently. Does it bother you that maybe there were many?"

Johnny turned to look at him, too. "No."

The answer was simple, and Johnny's eyes were honest. Yet Ruslan felt the need for a stronger confirmation. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I don't care about that."

"Then where is that question coming from?"

Johnny seemed pensive before he gave his answer. "For me, it's the first time."

Ruslan swallowed, suddenly feeling his throat growing small. "Seriously?" he joked. "I could not say it was your first time."

Johnny didn't care for banter, though. Not this time. "I've never felt like this with anyone. I've never had anyone like you, that's true. Maybe that's why. Or I don't know."

What are you trying to say, Johnny? Ruslan wished he had the nerve to say those words out loud.

"So do you make all the men who are with you feel like this?" the question returned.

"They never stayed enough to tell me that," Ruslan said simply. "You're basically my longest relationship, Johnny." He reached for the other and caressed his cheek. "So maybe the right answer is that, well, it's the first time for me, too."

Johnny took his hand and pressed a kiss inside the hollow of his palm. "That's good then. That's really good."

It was a nice thought to go to sleep with. Ruslan closed his eyes slowly as Johnny shifted to turn off the bedside lamp. And then he sighed in contentment as his lover pulled him into his arms.

***

Johnny's face was all a frown as he talked in a low voice on the phone. Ruslan watched him from the corner of his eye, wondering what could be that was putting his lover in such a foul mood.

"I need to go ... somewhere," Johnny said in a brusque tone.

"Should I come with you? I can come with you!" Ruslan reached for his coat, thrown over the back of a chair.

He had gotten back from work minutes before, only to find Johnny like that. The fear, the familiar creep of anguish was rearing its head, and he could not stand it. More so, he could not stand looking at Johnny and seeing him so shaken.

"Don't!" Johnny put one hand up, taking him by surprise. "Sorry, Ruslan, it's just that ... It's something I need to do alone."

"Are you serious? If it's something bad, all the more reason for me to come with you," Ruslan insisted.

"Ruslan, no." Johnny shook his head. "Stay put, and I mean it."

The words came out pained, with difficulty. Ruslan stopped. Johnny threw him one last haunted look and went out the door.

For minutes, Ruslan stared at the door. His hands were getting cold. Despite that, when he brought one hand to his forehead, he wiped away a bit of sweat. Automatically, he turned on his heels and began undressing.

I should have gone with him, Ruslan scolded himself. But his feet still felt like lead.

Had he read everything wrong? No, he could not have done that. Something bad had happened. Something that was enough to shatter a man as strong as Johnny. And he, Ruslan, had just stood there and hadn't rushed after his lover, too busy with being afraid to do the right thing.

Ruslan pushed the balls of his hands into his eyes and rubbed them until they began to sting. He needed to call Johnny.

"The person you are trying to reach is unavailable right now. Please call again later."

He placed the phone on the table. Wrapping his arms around his knees, he buried his head into the crook of his elbows. Johnny was fine. He would call back. Nothing bad had happened — just an emergency. Johnny would come back.

TBC

Author's note:

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