Chapter Text
It was one forty-six in the morning and Damien Thorn sat in his room, at his desk, in front of his laptop dealing with the fifth and final communication of the night, this one from Paul. It had been sent from one of Thorn’s private email servers…so private, that not even his uncle knew about it; one on a long list of things that went on at Thorn Industries that Richard was better off not knowing about. His phone began pinging and he shut off the notifications as his more public Thorn Industries email was sending out automatic replies that his work had been received by the various department heads and would be reviewed in the morning.
He wasn’t an intern, but he was finished with school for the year and Paul had asked if wanted to take on more responsibilities before September when he and Mark would be leaving for Yale. Agreeing to work “pro bono” at Thorn meant that he was opening himself to treble the workload that any intern would ever be responsible for, given, of course, by all the department heads who saw any future role he had at Thorn as nepotism at its best. He smirked in the darkness. Let them say what they want now. They’ll be working for me soon enough.
He looked over at his bed and the sleeping figure huddled under the covers.
Ramona Taylor. A few weeks ago, there had been an end of the school year party thrown by the graduating class of Davenport Preparatory, his and Mark’s school of choice once they had left Davidson. He knew it would be nothing special, but he had gone fully aware that he would be the centre of attention and Mark had wanted to go to say his farewells. Ramona, along with quite a few girls, had come up to him and gave him their contact information along with the understanding that they were up for nearly anything. Last night he had taken her up on her offer and she had not disappointed.
He sat back in the chair and his stomach rumbled. Dinner had been hours ago, and fucking Ramona had taken some energy out of him. He hadn’t bothered getting dressed, so he simply cinched the belt of the dressing gown he had thrown on and went downstairs.
“Lights.”
The kitchen immediately brightened. He grabbed a plate and a glass from the various cupboards. In the fridge, he grabbed the milk container, and poured himself a glass and then grabbed the Dijon mustard, salami, Swiss, rye bread, and made himself a sandwich. He cocked his eyebrow at the cookie jar that had been filled earlier that day and took out three homemade chocolate chip cookies, added them to the plate, and took a seat at the nook.
He took a bite of his sandwich and while he ate, he thought about Ramona. The sex had been vanilla, no…interesting activities so far. He wasn’t sure where things where things were going with her, or whether he wanted things to keep going with her. It’s not as though he wanted her. She was there, as all the women were, to service him and his needs. There was only one person for whom he pined, and Ramona was most definitely not them.
He dunked his cookie into the milk, took a bite, and smiled. “Apparently, the second quickest way to the Antichrist’s heart is with fresh baked chocolate chip cookies.”
He took his time with his meal, and when he was done, he left his plate and glass in the sink. He decided to take the longer route back, past Mark’s bedroom. Maybe his cousin was still awake, though it was doubtful; all that Davidson Military Academy brainwashing bullshit meant lights out at midnight at the latest for him.
His room was located in the second wing of the house, much smaller than the third wing, and at one time had been the servants’ quarters. He had used his…special talents to get Richard to agree with his request to move to the other side of the house. He wanted his privacy and sometimes, it could get loud in his room, though usually not on his part, and he had no intention of having others keep it down to a dull roar to appease Richard Thorn of all people.
He came up the stairs and turned left; the door was closed, but as he approached it, he could hear grunting and groaning. He stopped. He had shared a room with his cousin long enough to know when he was gratifying himself. He leaned against the wall and listened. The sound Mark was making was not loud enough for any human to hear. Luckily for him, he was no human.
“Uh, Damien, fuck, yes, harder, yes, Oh God...”
He shook his head. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? Mark had gone back to being relatively silent, apart from the grunting and groaning.
Damien could feel his prick twitch. Should he go in? He wanted to. Oh Satan, how he wanted to. He’d give his cousin exactly what he wanted, right in his tight little ass. He’d ride him into next week until his legs buckled.
But Mark was not Ramona, nor anyone else, for that matter. He didn’t want his first time with the man he loved to be like this...in the dead of night, the pair of them more tired than awake. He wanted him in broad daylight, making love with the sun streaming into the room so that he could see every inch of his cousin’s beautiful body.
The food coupled with the late hour had made him drowsy, and he had been looking forward to his head hitting his pillow. However, now that he was standing here listening to Mark want him, he had other things on his mind.
He was there for five minutes longer when apparently, he decided that he wanted to finish. The sounds got louder until finally…
“I love you, Damien, please don’t stop. I love you, forever and always.”
There was a grunt and then a sigh from within and then…he had gotten out of bed and put something on his desk...what could it be? A smile sat on his face. His laptop. He had been watching something while he had been jerking off and Damien needed to know what it was.
If he were anyone else but him, he would have had to wait until Mark fell asleep or waited until tomorrow when he was out of the house. Instead, he thought himself into the computer, unlocked it and transferred every single one of his cousin’s files to his own computer.
He put his hand on the door. He didn’t say anything, not even in a whisper, but he thought it…I love you, Mark, always and forever. He waited for a few more seconds and then made his way back to his room.
He opened his bedroom door and with a nod, sent his dog back out into the hallway: apparently, the sexual activity for the night was not yet done. He quickly went to the bathroom to floss and brush. Once he was done, he picked up his laptop, took a seat on the leather armchair, sideways, so that his legs now dangled over the side. There, on his desktop, were all the files he had retrieved. He quickly dispensed with the innocuous stuff, which left four files that required passwords to open. Oh, Mark. He shook his head.
File one contained love poetry in which he was the subject. There weren’t many, but there were enough. He briefly went through them. They were mostly awful, and if they had been written by anyone else, he would have laughed at and mocked whoever had written them. But in this case, he more than appreciated the sentiment.
The second file had pictures; once again, he was the subject. The third file...pictures of blond men in various types of bondage...tied up, handcuffs, being whipped, spanked and in some of them, there was a man with dark brown hair being the Dominant to the submissive man. The last file was a video. Bingo. He pressed play…
It was some kind of military scenario because there was a blond cadet folding his laundry in his room. Another cadet came in with a boy and the three of them were talking. The one boy left, and the brunet cadet shut and locked the door behind him, and the next thing he knew, the two young men were in each other’s arms.
They began by kissing...long, deep, passionate, their tongues in each other’s mouth. Brunet moved his mouth and kissed down Blond’s neck, nibbling his earlobe.
Brunet began unbuttoning Blond’s shirt and the scene faded so that the two cadets were now in their briefs making out in the bed, facing each other. Their legs were arranged so that their thighs were against the other’s cock, both of them were rotating and thrusting against the other’s thigh; each had their hands down the other’s briefs, and he could see by the looks on their faces, they were groaning.
Whatever erection Damien had been working on was now at full mast and he spit into his hand and began stroking himself. Not at the scene itself, but at the thought that this had been what Mark had been watching while he had been jerking off.
Brunet got off his partner and knelt on the bed, grabbed Blond’s legs, and put them against his chest. He reached down and pulled Blond’s briefs up his thighs, to his knees, to his calves and then the boy’s briefs were tossed to the floor. Brunet placed the Blond’s feet on the bed and then got on top of him again. They were speaking to each other, but because the sound wasn’t on, he couldn’t hear.
Brunet began kissing his way down Blond’s chest. Sucking his nipples...kissing, caressing, playfully teasing his way down until he was between Blond’s legs and once he got there, Brunet kissed Blond’s cock a few times and then nearly eight inches of Blond was in his mouth.
Blond’s back arched up and the scene continued with Brunet continuing to pleasure his partner...stroking, kissing, touching, caressing...loving Blond’s cock. He then put it back in his mouth with the clear intention of making his partner orgasm.
Up and down went Brunet’s head until Blond’s back arched up again and Brunet lifted up his head, Blond’s seed dribbling down his chin, a smile on his face. Brunet was now sitting, as was Blond, who leaned over and kissed his partner, getting some of his own semen in his mouth. Blond was now on all fours on the bed and Brunet, who was standing at the side of the bed, naked, put on a condom, grabbed bottle of lubricant, lubed up his cock and his partner’s ass and entered him, kissing his back, and caressing his thighs. He began thrusting and then reached around and began stroking his partner…
Damien stopped it and shut off the computer. He wanted Mark. Now. He let out a growl. But he would not give in. He did, however, need some relief and looked over at Ramona, who had slept through everything.
He removed his robe and went to the bed. She was on her side, but he rolled her over so that she was now on her stomach. He grabbed the bottle of lube that was sitting on his bedside table; this wasn't going to be the first time tonight that Ramona would be taking it up the ass. He straddled her and poured some lube into his hand and made sure he was lubricated, as was she. He didn’t particularly care for her pleasure or comfort, but he liked the feeling...besides, he’d be using it with Mark.
He guided himself into her and it was only because he was utilizing all the self-control he possessed that he did not to come right away. He began thrusting and he groaned, but quickly stifled himself. Normally, he made very little noise during sex. Some heavy breathing and a grunt when he came, but now...he wanted to throw his head back and cry out. Nothing to do with the girl, but he wanted inside Mark so badly he could taste it…to hear him screaming his name…to hear him say how much he wanted to be fucked...how much he loved him…that he was in love with him. He bit his lip to stop himself from making noise...he didn’t want Ramona to wake up and think she was doing that to him.
It was like his Father was giving him everything that he wanted; he grinned in the darkness. Maybe this was his reward for doing what he supposed to do, for being a good son and being obedient.
Damien could see his alarm clock; it was now three thirty in the morning and he was tired. He picked up the pace and closed his eyes…
Mark was on his back, his thighs resting on his chest, his legs over his shoulders and he was making love to Mark...Mark his cousin/brother/lover/soulmate. Mark was moaning, saying his name, reaching up and caressing his chest, pulling him down to kiss him, urging Damien with words, both loving and dirty.
Pretty Mark...beautiful Mark...Mark with the perfect blond hair that he wanted to grasp as he came inside of him. Thrusting, rocking, two bodies in perfect motion with each other.
“Mark,” he couldn’t help it, his cousin’s name was on his lips, like a prayer to his Father.
“Come in me, beloved brother, flesh not of my flesh, but of my heart and soul. Come in me and give yourself to me. I love you, forever and always.”
Damien Thorn obeyed, and his orgasm blossomed, a beautiful thing that no longer wanted to be contained and demanded to be free…
I love you, Mark, always and forever.
When he opened his eyes, his hands were in Ramona’s hair and his face was buried in the back of her neck.
“Damien,” she muttered.
He pulled out of her. “Go to sleep.”
He rolled over onto his side, facing away from the girl in his bed. Never once had Mark displayed any interest in him. Never. All the times he had fantasized that he’d wake up in the morning with his cousin’s mouth wrapped around his cock...he shook his head. He had never felt anything from him apart from the normal familial sentiments. Then again, he had never, ever mentally pressed Mark. He never wanted to accidentally hurt him, or to have anything from his cousin to be forced or done under any kind of duress.
But things happened for a reason, and maybe waiting this long was good. At eighteen, he knew he could be a lover, and it wouldn’t just be about the sex.
He was horrible at honest seduction. People threw themselves at him and he decided whether he would have them. But Mark wasn’t people; Mark was family. Maybe not by blood, but by love.
He closed his eyes and hiked the covers to his chin. The whys and wherefores would be worked out later, but for right now, he glowed in the knowledge that Mark wanted him, and with a smile on his face, he drifted off to sleep.