Reparations (12)

Reparations

or

A Change of Attitude

We did meet the next night. And the next. And then Puck had to take a break because, between the horse-tail butt plug and the pounding I was giving him every day, he was getting a little sore.

“Kamal saw me wince when he put the plug in and he questioned me about it. I implied it was only his rough treatment making me sore, but I think he knew there was more to it. He didn’t make me wear it, anyway. Which I was very thankful for.”

We had met at the bunkhouse and walked to the lake, and swum out to the dock in the moonlight. The water felt heavenly cool and crisp on my skin after the humidity of the day. We’d goofed around in the water, laughing like eight-year-olds and trying to dunk each other. Finally, we’d climbed onto the platform and now lay on our backs, staring up at the stars.

“When did you first realize you were gay, Oliver?” Puck asked, reaching down to take my hand and stroke his finger over my skin.

I turned my head to look at him because Puck, naked and wet in the moonlight, was a sight to behold. His pale skin shone in the silver light and the beads of water on his shoulders glistened like promises.

“Oh, I don’t know. Seventh grade, I think? You?”

Puck laughed. “In the womb? No, really, I think I always knew. I was drawn to girls as friends, not sexual partners.” He shuddered. “Yeah, no.”

“Is your family okay with it?”

“Sure. It was like they always knew, too. I’m not sure how, because I don’t think I’m girly. Do you think I’m girly?” he met my gaze and raised the eyebrow with the barbell in it.

“Well, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with femboys. But you don’t strike me as being one.”

“Hmm. That sounds like a challenge.”

My gaze drifted along his slim, sleekly muscled body. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d rock a plaid skirt and some thigh-highs.”

He laughed. “Fuck. You know I look fabulous in anything I put on.”

“Oh, do I ever,” I said with a smile, twining our fingers together. “Especially the ropes.”

“That was fun. I liked it.”

I grinned. “I could tell.”

Puck met my gaze. “Did you?” he asked, grinning, because he knew that fucking answer.

“I loved it. So much.”

We gazed at each other for a long time, until Puck’s smile faded and he turned back to the vista of tiny lights above us.

“I think…I think I want to call Elijah.”

I waited several moments to see if he had more to say. 

He continued. “But I really don’t want to call him from the front room or the washroom,” he murmured, glancing at me.

“You want to use my room? I’m sure Adam wouldn’t mind.”

Puck sat up halfway. “Would that be okay?”

“Sure. I’ll let you in and then disappear for a bit. No problem.”

He blinked quickly then brushed at his face with the back of his hand. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” He stayed propped on his elbow for a bit, then rolled himself over and climbed on top of me. He put his hands on either side of my shoulders, supporting himself on the wooden planks.

“How come you’re so nice to me?” he said, gazing down, his damp hair falling forward. He shook his head and showered me with water droplets.

His sudden move had surprised me and I didn’t know what to say. I decided to go for humour.

“Because you have a great ass. Looks good with a tail in it.”

Puck grinned. “Most of these guys have nice asses.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

He raised his eyebrows. 

I slid my hands along his sides and cupped the globes of his absolutely perfect behind.

“I only like this one.” 

I lifted my hand and gave that ass cheek a firm slap that shoved Puck against me in a wonderful way and caused the muscle to jiggle. It also made his firming dick push against my stomach. His eyes fluttered shut for a second and, when they opened, the pupils had blown wide and dark.

“Oh, Oliver. You’ve started something now,” he said softly, his gaze floating over my face like he was trying to memorize it.

“Good,” I breathed, gazing up at him like he was the brightest star in the sky. His beauty was blinding.

“Fuck,” he cursed, then kissed me softly and moaned against my lips. 

I encircled him with my arms and nudged his pretty mouth open, so I could delve into his warm, wet depths, while my cock filled and strained against his thigh. I groaned and thrust against him.

“Oh, Puck.”

“Nope. You can’t fuck me, Oliver. I’m too sore.”

“I don’t want to fuck you.”

He pulled back and lifted an eyebrow. “What? Why not?”

I laughed at his wounded expression.

“Because I love this. I could do this all night.”

I pressed against him again, and he shoved his cock against my hip, grinning.

“Yeah, okay. That’s true.”

“I don’t even want to come. I just want to feel this way forever,” I murmured, astonishingly content.

He kissed me again, and we lay together and made out like teenagers, until the muggy heat and relentless mosquitos forced us into the water again. 

Finally, we headed for shore, got mostly dressed and walked hand-in-hand back to the bunkhouse, where I kissed Puck good night and returned to my lonely room, floating on the oppressively humid air.

*****

I spoke to Adam about letting Puck use my room to call his friend, and Adam said that was fine. So, after Puck’s morning ponyboy session the next day, he met me on the porch and went to get his phone.

He checked his emails as soon as we got to my room.

“Oh. Elijah’s parents have brought him home. Maybe things are looking better,” Puck said. He flipped about on his phone for a few minutes, then asked if he could use my shower, since he’d only gotten a quick hose-down in the grooming barn.

“Yeah, of course.”

I tried going over some of the images I’d posted to my computer while he was in there, but it was difficult to concentrate knowing that Puck was naked and soapy and right the fuck there. But I was an adult and didn’t act on my impulses. He probably needed to psyche himself up for this phone call.

After what seemed like eons, he returned to the main part of the room, fully dressed, with damp, tousled hair that made my heart ache. He looked so vulnerable and delicate, his forehead creased with concern.

“Do you think I’m making the right decision?” he said. “What if I call and it just makes me feel worse? Or, what if it makes Elijah feel worse? What if he’s sleeping and I disturb him?”

“Puck—“

“Maybe I should just wait and see him when I get home.”

I was silent for a moment, and then put my words together very carefully. 

“I think…that Elijah will probably be very glad to hear from you.”

Puck nodded, avoiding my gaze. “But what if I say all the wrong things? I’m no good at this stuff, Oliver.” He picked up his phone and turned it on. Then put it to sleep and returned it to the table. “Fuck. I don’t know.”

I stood from my chair, going over and gently pulling him against me, holding him tight to give him what encouragement I could offer. His arms wrapped around me in an automatic gesture that made me disproportionately happy. 

“You’ll do fine. He’ll be glad to hear your voice.”

Puck nodded and took a deep breath. “Right.”

I released him and grabbed my keys. “I’ll be back in a half hour. Make yourself at home. You can lay on the bed if you want.” 

I lifted the corner of my mouth and winked, taking hold of the door knob.

“Wait. Oliver.”

“Yeah?”

He stood where I’d left him, in his ripped jean shorts and the LEGO Star Wars shirt.

“Can—can you stay? Please?”

“Yeah, sure. Of course.” I was stunned he’d asked. But I would do anything he wanted.

“Okay,” he said, appearing relieved. “I need…moral support. Or something. Or someone to help if I start to panic.”

“Sure,” I said. “I can do that.” I put my keys back on the dresser and sat on the edge of the bed. 

Puck nodded. “Okay. All right.” 

He picked up his phone again, staring at it with trepidation. “Oh, God, why am I so nervous?”

“It’ll be all right.”

“Geeze, I hope so. But what if he’s pissed that I took so long to actually call and talk to him?”

I grinned. “Well, in a way, that would be a sign that he’s well enough to get pissed with people. Right?”

Puck shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe. But how will I explain?”

“Hey, It’s okay to admit you were scared and full of feelings you didn’t understand. It would be better for him to know that his situation affected you strongly than for him to think you don’t care.”

Puck nodded soberly. “I do care. Of course I fucking care. I hate that this happened. If he’d just listened to me when I’d told him—“

“Yeah. He probably realizes now that he should have listened to you.”

“Yeah.”

“Puck. Baby,” I said, because he seemed like a little kid right now and I wanted to use the endearment. “Can I say that?”

Puck met my gaze and blushed. It was the sweetest thing in the world. He was the sweetest thing in the world. “You can say that to me any time,” he said, keeping his gaze averted.

Warmth spread inside my chest. “Call him.”

He met my gaze and nodded once. He woke up his phone and put the call through, then held my gaze nervously as he waited for a response. After several seconds he raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

“Maybe they can’t get to the phone right away,” I suggested.

“I don’t want to bother—“

His gaze broke from mine as the call was answered. I couldn’t hear what was said but I could hear a voice.

“Oh, hi Mrs. Alderman. It’s Puck…Yeah, I know, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call…okay…yes…really?” 

Puck seemed to brighten. He glanced at me just for one second but I could see the relief there.

“That’s amazing…yes…I know he is…I’d love to speak to him if you think he’d be up for it?”

There was a pause while Puck shifted his feet and waited.

“Hey Elijah,” he said, when a deeper-toned voice came from his phone. “I know, man, I am so, so sorry…yeah…I feel like such a douche.” He laughed. “You should…definitely.”

His gaze flashed to mine with such affection and relief it warmed my heart.

“Yeah, I met this guy, actually. And he made me feel strong enough to call you…yeah…oh, he’s so hot. You have no idea. And you wouldn’t believe where I am right now…nope…I’ll tell you when I see you in person…I’m here for another month…I know…but I needed to get away.” Puck laughed again, and it was such a wonderful sound. “I’ll call you again in a few days, okay? I’m so glad to hear things are going well, man. Stay strong, okay? I love you…I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner…okay…bye.”

Puck ended his call and blinked back strong emotion, his breaths shaky. “I could really use a hug right now, Oliver.”

I jumped up from my spot on the bed and wrapped him in my arms.

Puck snugged his forehead into the crook of my neck, holding onto me. He spoke then, his voice muffled against my shirt.

“He’s got feeling in his legs now. He’s going to be able to walk. It’s going to take some time and lots of rehab, but he’s going to be okay.”

I hugged Puck tighter and pressed my lips to his cheek. “I’m so glad you called him. That was very brave.”

“Yeah, me too. He basically told me I was a dick and a chicken. But you know what? It felt good to hear him cuss me out. Like you said, he sounded like his old self, y’know?”

“Sure.”

Puck pulled away and seemed to collect himself.

“Is it okay if I use your room to call him again in a few days? I guess I could just call him from downstairs, since everything seems okay, but—“

“Of course you can. Any time.” 

Puck shoved his hands in his pockets and gazed at me with gratitude. “Thanks, Oliver.”

“Well, y’know, it gives me an excuse to get you into my room, so—“

“Hmm,” he said, smiling shyly. “I suppose I should thank you somehow.”

I laughed. “You don’t have to thank me.”

We gazed at each other. Then Puck took his hands from his pockets and moved toward me, fingers going to my shirt. He untucked it from my pants.

“Maybe I want to thank you…”

I rested my hands on his narrow hips. “Well, if you really want to thank me.”

Puck grinned from ear-to-ear. “I really want to thank you.” He glanced at the door. “Did you lock it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Do you think Adam will care that I’m up here…thanking you?”

I took Puck’s chin in my hand and planted an eager kiss on his lips. “I think Adam will probably mind his own business. If we’re circumspect.”

“What the fuck does that mean, Oliver?”

I laughed. “It means if you can keep from screaming my name when I make you come.”

Puck winked. “No promises.”

*****

He did fairly well, but I ended up stuffing a pair of clean underwear into his mouth to keep him quiet, which he seemed to enjoy. This was after he’d given me a soul-destroying blow job and I’d had to bite my own tongue to keep quiet. Now I was licking him all over his balls and ass and driving him completely crazy, especially because he couldn’t give way to unhindered vocalizations.

His muffled groans made me hard all over again. He was completely malleable today, after the good news he’d received. He was open and vulnerable, and able to relax for the first time in what was probably ages. And I took advantage of that, breaking him apart until he panted my name against the wad of fabric in his mouth. 

“Okay, fine. Do you want to come?”

“Uth, uth!” he groaned, voice harsh and desperate, words strangled by the impromptu gag.

“Stick out your ass for me, ponyboy.” I said, shoving his knees forward so his rear went up and I had plenty of access to his cock.

“Fug,” he mumbled indistinctly, spreading his legs and grasping the bedcover in his fists.

“Good boy. Such a good boy. Such a delicious pony.”

I lapped at his hole a bit more, then lubed up my fingers and got to work, pumping him and stretching him gently. I wasn’t going to fuck him, but I wanted to get him off like fireworks on Canada Day.

I felt cocky and in control. I liked it. “Say, ‘I’m such a good boy, Oliver’.”

“Um gugged,” Puck moaned.

“Try to say it.”

“Wu?”

“Because I love to hear you struggle.”

“Ur a thug mah.”

I interpreted that as You’re a sick man, which was accurate. I laughed. 

“Yep. Now say it.” I had two fingers in Puck’s ass and I’d located the spot I wanted to tease and stroke until he shouted my name and came all over my bedsheets.

“Am shug uh—“ he cried out as my hand circled his cock. “—dud voh!”

“Oliver,” I prompted, pumping his cock with one hand and fucking him gently with my fingers.

“UH—UH—UHDUVER!” he shouted through the gag, spurting hard and shaking under my hand.

I truly hoped none of the trainers were on the floor at this time. They should have been either getting some lunch or preparing for their afternoon sessions. 

Puck rode the pleasure of his orgasm and collapsed to the bedding, right into his own wet spot.

He grunted with exhaustion. I quickly removed the gag and kissed him.

“You bastard,” he murmured.

I kissed him again. “Sweet baby.”

He sighed and closed his eyes, a smile on his sweaty face.

*****

We didn’t meet the next day because I actually had work to do. Real work, involving polishing some images and putting a slideshow together for the weekend. I had let him know I’d be busy all day and he’d said he didn’t mind, that he had a good book to read in the bunkhouse. And that maybe he should show a bit more interest in the other ponyboys. I’d raised my eyes, and he’d stressed that it would be a purely platonic interest, as his ass only had the strength for one sexual attachment at a time, apparently.

The following morning, I wandered over to the arena when I knew Kamal would be training my beautiful boy. Or attempting to train him. I brought my handheld, since I already had enough from the tripod to keep my busy for awhile.

The day was stunning—bright and hot—but the hanging humidity had dissipated. Still, sweat beaded on the back of my neck as I approached the second paddock. 

Puck was in his basic ponyboy gear, but his arms had been left unbuckled. Probably because there were a couple of low oxers in the paddock this afternoon, and Kamal was having Puck jump over them—a task that would prove extra hard with one’s arms pinioned.

Kamal saw me before Puck did. He waved me over and came to meet me at the fence. It was difficult to drag my gaze away from the beautiful young man in leather harness and dirty boots, muscles moving sinuously beneath his familiar skin, as he maneuvered over the small jumps.

“Oliver.”

“Kamal.” I smiled.

Kamal folded his arms on the top rail of the fence and assessed me silently for a moment. 

“What?”

“Hmm. I don’t know what you did, but our ornery little mess of a ponyboy is performing exquisitely today. He’s done everything I’ve asked, without issue.”

“What I did? I don’t know what you’re—“

“Although I sincerely doubt a good fucking is what brought on this good behaviour.” Kamal checked me out in a slowly sexual way and smirked. “Although, you never know.”

“Oh please. I’m good, but I’m not that good.” I laughed, then realized I’d basically admitted my interest and involvement with Puck. “Shit.”

Kamal grinned lazily.

We watched Puck, who continued his task, although he had noticed me. He almost lifted a hand to wave but thought better of it and kept his gaze forward, concentrating on what he was doing.

I ran my fingers through my hair. “Anyway, I didn’t do anything.” 

Puck had been the one to initiate his phone call. And I wouldn’t be surprised if his agreeable behaviour was due to the weight of his guilt and the precariousness of Elijah’s predicament being lifted.

Kamal nodded. “Adam said you let Puck make a phone call from your room.”

“He needed some privacy.”

“So he made a personal call?”

I shrugged. I wasn’t giving Kamal any other info. He’d have to ask Puck if he wanted details.

“Uh huh. So, do you think that had anything to do with his change of manner?”

“Probably.”

“Well. That’s good. I won’t ask you anymore questions.”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, Puck,” Kamal called out. “You can come over here and take a break.”

Puck had just gone over one of the low jumps. He jogged over to us, breathing heavily and rosy with exertion. And…smiling?

“Puck, if you want to keep your relationship with Oliver a secret you need to use your poker face,” Kamal suggested, laughing.

“Oh, shit,” Puck said, immediately affixing a fake scowl to his face that didn’t quite succeed.

“Sorry, but you don’t look pissed. Just constipated,” I said.

“Fuck it. Whatever. I don’t care who knows, anyway,” he said, breaking into a grin and glancing shyly at Kamal.

“Uh huh,” Kamal said.

“Like it wasn’t completely obvious,” Puck said. “Even before I started smiling in the training ring.”

Kamal ruffled Puck’s dark hair. “I’m glad you’re feeling more congenial. But don’t lose that fighting edge completely. I’d like an excuse to punish you once in awhile.” 

“Fuck, I knew it. You’re hoping for mistakes, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” Kamal grinned. “You’re a most beautiful mistake if I ever saw one.”

“Don’t try to butter me up, now,” Puck said, coughing and blushing. He scuffed his boot in the dirt. “You’re a cruel, cruel master, Kamal.”

“Mmm. And you love every minute of it.”

Puck glared at Kamal, a bit of his former attitude resurfacing. “What now, Sir? Or am I done?”

Kamal gazed back and forth between the two of us, then threw his hands in the air. “Take him to the grooming barn, Oliver. He’s done well today and deserves some time off. Maybe you can go for a swim or something.”

Puck’s gaze flashed to me with excitement as I took the lead that Kamal fastened to Puck’s collar. 

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