Texas III part 9
Story title: Texas III
Rating: NC-17
Configurations : M/m
Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, BDSM, and anything else I can think of as I write it!
Note: There is fraternal incest, be aware
Word Count: Approx. 1,800
Summary: The conclusion of the Texas verse, Paul's Epilogue
Feedback: Is always welcome *grins*
Previous parts: for now are tagged at my journal here. The index page for the Texas series can be found here.
Salvatore Alonzo decided if he were in hell, he was just going to have to live with it. He was so fucking tired of living in the dense fog without his beautiful boy. He had let go when the doors of the elevator revealed what had become his very soul.
Paul. Wide, dark eyes with the J.B.’s arm cuddling him close, he felt his heart shatter. He did not have the right to hold or comfort the boy any longer. So he had acknowledged them and fallen apart in his former lover’s arms.
“You are not weak, Sal,” Nick had said kissing his forehead gently. “Are you going to go silently into the night and lose the best thing that ever happened to you?”
He had argued. It was the deal he had brokered. He had made the unforgivable sin and as penance, gave up his heart.
“Have you ever thought,” The laugh lines around Nick’s dark eyes were standing in sharp relief, “That maybe he wants to forgive you, and move on.”
“He’ll never forget.” His voice had sounded so tired.
Nick’s strong hands had cupped his face, “And he should not, nor should you. But you are human, my friend, and fallible. Let him see that in you. God damn, Sal, you don’t know just how bad he yearns for you as well.”
He hadn’t known that Marcus would actually invite Paul to the meeting. How cold that bastard could be knew no bounds. Inviting Paul and dangling him in front of those who had once fucked him and had the right to. It would belittle the freedom that Paul had been granted, first from Texas and then albeit sadly from him as well.
He thought seeing Giuseppe rejoice in the return of his beloved Paris would numb him. Instead it left him raw and wanting.
Paris had huddled under the blankets. The boy’s eyes were screwed shut and he had whimpered, “Forgive me, master. I am a disgrace, my body an abomination, no longer worthy. I am butchered and broken. It is your right to put me down.”
Giuseppe fell to his knees and grasped the frail hands. “Then I shall join you, my love, for without you I am butchered and broken. Only together are we whole.”
Only together are we whole. God, he sank deeper into hell. The leather and the devil may care stance was all Paul. His beautiful boy, but the dark eyes were as haunted as his own. A spark ignited in his gut. He wanted to crush the small fiber of hope but maybe Nick was right.
Apart they were broken. His heart pounded as Carnegie herded him away. Mine, his lips pulled back into a snarl. He had put as many men in the ground as Texas and his days of sniveling were over.
“Boss,” Brooks whispered into his ear and he followed the guard’s line of sight. J.B. was parting the crowd. Paul was tight as a whip and anger crackled from his very pores. It was stupid. He knew it. But what the hell, he couldn’t sink much lower.
“Paul.”
When the boy turned, Sal saw it. The lost look and the flare of need that was quickly gone, Paul was serious as the red lips parted, “Sal.”
His lips twitched upward, that was his boy. His boy. “Can we talk?”
J.B. moved between them subtly. Even as it irritated, Sal was proud. Paul had his right hand, the man that would step between him and a bullet. Paul didn’t need him anymore.
And that was okay. The boy had shown that he didn’t need any of them any longer. For a moment, he could almost see a hint of a young Texas, with his fuck you world attitude and sexual grace. Sal could see the gun his hand daring all comers to take him on. And that was okay, too.
Because he still wanted Paul. Paul, the boy he had been and the young man he had become. He wanted the right to share his life with him again. He wanted Paul in his life, at his side, and most definitely in his bed. If the boy never knelt before him again, his dominant urges would just have to fuck off. He wanted Paul. His blue eyes glittered at the thought of the challenge. And he always got what he wanted.
Paul hesitated before laying a hand on J.B.’s arm. “Okay. But away from all this bullshit.” His slender hand waved at the glitz of Carnegie’s foyer. The sounds of passion and rutting in the main hall had begun to rise.
He looked to J.B. and felt Brooks’ presence at his shoulder. “The old man has a statuary garden and from the sound of things, it should be unoccupied. I would like to speak to you privately.” Paul nodded slowly, still tense and uncertain. “This way.”
It felt good to be outside. Away from the stifling business of the syndicate and the carnal pleasures that could be found on a whim. He had ridden that train and been content. Until the boy that walked at his side with his head down and shoulders shrugging uncomfortably under the heavy leather coat had come into his life unexpectedly. And because of a stupid mistake, Paul had walked out of his life without looking back.
“What do you want, Sal,” Paul sounded tired.
Sal stopped. Only together are we whole. If he was going to be in hell, so be it. He was going to take no prisoners.
“I would like to take you out on a date.”
*~*
What the hell was he doing? Paul berated himself as he walked next to his former master. When he finally broke the quiet, Sal’s answer was the last thing he had expected.
He stopped and blinked at the close cropped blonde head. A date?!?
“Excuse me,” He sputtered.
Sal turned, his elegant features shadowed in moonlight. He was painfully thin and haggard, but Paul knew that gleam well. His cock responded immediately. It was all he could do not to glare at his traitorous body. Sex had been the last thing on his mind. His needs went far deeper than that and his libido had agreed. He could have sex with Alex or Kyle but his body had stayed stubbornly lax. Texas could make him cum after bruising him into submission.
The only times he could cum at his own hand was thinking of the man before him now. He hadn’t had sex in weeks. He hadn’t fisted his own flesh in days. He had not been interested.
But Sal’s glittering blue eyes had his body taking notice and crying out for more. Reminding him of pleasure and pain, reminding him of what it was like to be whole again. His needs taken care, no worries, because he was in his master’s care.
Sal folded his arms behind his back. “I would like to take you out on a date.”
Paul’s eyes narrowed, “What kind of date?” Date. Fuck, even the word felt strange on his tongue.
Sal’s head cocked to the side. “What? You think I would expect you naked and kneeling at club?”
Paul took a step back and frowned. This was a very bad idea.
Sal sighed and his shoulders slumped, “Relax, beautiful.” He paused and then looked at the stone figure they stood before. It was of two men, their backs together looking opposite directions, but their hands were entwined. “I would like another chance. I would like to get on my knees and beg forgiveness. I would like to show you everything that we can still be. I want you to know that you own my soul. If this doesn’t work, then maybe you would be kind enough to return it.”
“I would like a chance to win your heart, because you still have mine.”
Paul felt like the wind was knocked out of his stomach. He felt hot and dizzy. He stumbled and went down on his knees.
“Paul, baby. Shit,” Sal sounded distressed as he loomed over him. “I’m so sorry, beautiful. I’ll walk away. Forget I ever existed.”
Paul looked up and realized the position he was in. He was on his knees before Salvatore Alonzo. The man was frowning and his lips were moving, but all Paul saw was the love that had never died. The passion Sal had for him still burned brightly.
His whole being sighed in content, this was his missing piece. He needed his master. Sal had always been his true master, giving him brief respite in Texas’ brutal world, bringing him back from dank pit of death, loving him, caring for him, giving him laughter. Who was he to be so arrogant over one mistake. The mistake broke his heart but measuring it against his life. It was small almost irrelevant in the light of the moon. He had been such a fucking fool to fight it. The it that made him what he was, Lilibet’s words came to him unbidden, “Being a submissive isn’t about being weak. We’re the ones with all the power…” He realized his power on his knees. Sal was right and he wanted to snort, when was he ever truly wrong; he held the man’s very heart in his palm. He could crush it and walk away. Or maybe, he could patch it. It wouldn’t be the same as it had been, but it was still Sal, the man that held his heart as well.
Didn’t mean it was going to be easy. He fought to keep the smile at his revelations from gracing his lips. He was going to give Sal hell.
“Alright,” He croaked and the cleared his throat. He offered his hand to Sal who reacted as if it were a snake ready to strike. He lifted his eyebrow. Sal’s hand covered his own and pulled him to his feet.
The feel of Sal’s skin on his own made him want to cum in his pants. The man let him go quickly and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Are you sure, beau...” He stopped and Paul saw his former master bite his lip hesitantly. He could help the dark pleasure that curled in his gut. This was going to be fun.
He reached out and placed his hand over Sal’s heart. It was beating quickly. The man was just as nervous as he was. “I know you are going to call me beautiful, you won’t be able to help it, will you?” Sal shook his head slowly, almost sheepishly. “So when we go on this date, just so you know,” He dropped his hand and turned to get the hell out of there before he fell apart.
“I won’t mind.”
Rating: NC-17
Configurations : M/m
Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, BDSM, and anything else I can think of as I write it!
Note: There is fraternal incest, be aware
Word Count: Approx. 1,800
Summary: The conclusion of the Texas verse, Paul's Epilogue
Feedback: Is always welcome *grins*
Previous parts: for now are tagged at my journal here. The index page for the Texas series can be found here.
Salvatore Alonzo decided if he were in hell, he was just going to have to live with it. He was so fucking tired of living in the dense fog without his beautiful boy. He had let go when the doors of the elevator revealed what had become his very soul.
Paul. Wide, dark eyes with the J.B.’s arm cuddling him close, he felt his heart shatter. He did not have the right to hold or comfort the boy any longer. So he had acknowledged them and fallen apart in his former lover’s arms.
“You are not weak, Sal,” Nick had said kissing his forehead gently. “Are you going to go silently into the night and lose the best thing that ever happened to you?”
He had argued. It was the deal he had brokered. He had made the unforgivable sin and as penance, gave up his heart.
“Have you ever thought,” The laugh lines around Nick’s dark eyes were standing in sharp relief, “That maybe he wants to forgive you, and move on.”
“He’ll never forget.” His voice had sounded so tired.
Nick’s strong hands had cupped his face, “And he should not, nor should you. But you are human, my friend, and fallible. Let him see that in you. God damn, Sal, you don’t know just how bad he yearns for you as well.”
He hadn’t known that Marcus would actually invite Paul to the meeting. How cold that bastard could be knew no bounds. Inviting Paul and dangling him in front of those who had once fucked him and had the right to. It would belittle the freedom that Paul had been granted, first from Texas and then albeit sadly from him as well.
He thought seeing Giuseppe rejoice in the return of his beloved Paris would numb him. Instead it left him raw and wanting.
Paris had huddled under the blankets. The boy’s eyes were screwed shut and he had whimpered, “Forgive me, master. I am a disgrace, my body an abomination, no longer worthy. I am butchered and broken. It is your right to put me down.”
Giuseppe fell to his knees and grasped the frail hands. “Then I shall join you, my love, for without you I am butchered and broken. Only together are we whole.”
Only together are we whole. God, he sank deeper into hell. The leather and the devil may care stance was all Paul. His beautiful boy, but the dark eyes were as haunted as his own. A spark ignited in his gut. He wanted to crush the small fiber of hope but maybe Nick was right.
Apart they were broken. His heart pounded as Carnegie herded him away. Mine, his lips pulled back into a snarl. He had put as many men in the ground as Texas and his days of sniveling were over.
“Boss,” Brooks whispered into his ear and he followed the guard’s line of sight. J.B. was parting the crowd. Paul was tight as a whip and anger crackled from his very pores. It was stupid. He knew it. But what the hell, he couldn’t sink much lower.
“Paul.”
When the boy turned, Sal saw it. The lost look and the flare of need that was quickly gone, Paul was serious as the red lips parted, “Sal.”
His lips twitched upward, that was his boy. His boy. “Can we talk?”
J.B. moved between them subtly. Even as it irritated, Sal was proud. Paul had his right hand, the man that would step between him and a bullet. Paul didn’t need him anymore.
And that was okay. The boy had shown that he didn’t need any of them any longer. For a moment, he could almost see a hint of a young Texas, with his fuck you world attitude and sexual grace. Sal could see the gun his hand daring all comers to take him on. And that was okay, too.
Because he still wanted Paul. Paul, the boy he had been and the young man he had become. He wanted the right to share his life with him again. He wanted Paul in his life, at his side, and most definitely in his bed. If the boy never knelt before him again, his dominant urges would just have to fuck off. He wanted Paul. His blue eyes glittered at the thought of the challenge. And he always got what he wanted.
Paul hesitated before laying a hand on J.B.’s arm. “Okay. But away from all this bullshit.” His slender hand waved at the glitz of Carnegie’s foyer. The sounds of passion and rutting in the main hall had begun to rise.
He looked to J.B. and felt Brooks’ presence at his shoulder. “The old man has a statuary garden and from the sound of things, it should be unoccupied. I would like to speak to you privately.” Paul nodded slowly, still tense and uncertain. “This way.”
It felt good to be outside. Away from the stifling business of the syndicate and the carnal pleasures that could be found on a whim. He had ridden that train and been content. Until the boy that walked at his side with his head down and shoulders shrugging uncomfortably under the heavy leather coat had come into his life unexpectedly. And because of a stupid mistake, Paul had walked out of his life without looking back.
“What do you want, Sal,” Paul sounded tired.
Sal stopped. Only together are we whole. If he was going to be in hell, so be it. He was going to take no prisoners.
“I would like to take you out on a date.”
*~*
What the hell was he doing? Paul berated himself as he walked next to his former master. When he finally broke the quiet, Sal’s answer was the last thing he had expected.
He stopped and blinked at the close cropped blonde head. A date?!?
“Excuse me,” He sputtered.
Sal turned, his elegant features shadowed in moonlight. He was painfully thin and haggard, but Paul knew that gleam well. His cock responded immediately. It was all he could do not to glare at his traitorous body. Sex had been the last thing on his mind. His needs went far deeper than that and his libido had agreed. He could have sex with Alex or Kyle but his body had stayed stubbornly lax. Texas could make him cum after bruising him into submission.
The only times he could cum at his own hand was thinking of the man before him now. He hadn’t had sex in weeks. He hadn’t fisted his own flesh in days. He had not been interested.
But Sal’s glittering blue eyes had his body taking notice and crying out for more. Reminding him of pleasure and pain, reminding him of what it was like to be whole again. His needs taken care, no worries, because he was in his master’s care.
Sal folded his arms behind his back. “I would like to take you out on a date.”
Paul’s eyes narrowed, “What kind of date?” Date. Fuck, even the word felt strange on his tongue.
Sal’s head cocked to the side. “What? You think I would expect you naked and kneeling at club?”
Paul took a step back and frowned. This was a very bad idea.
Sal sighed and his shoulders slumped, “Relax, beautiful.” He paused and then looked at the stone figure they stood before. It was of two men, their backs together looking opposite directions, but their hands were entwined. “I would like another chance. I would like to get on my knees and beg forgiveness. I would like to show you everything that we can still be. I want you to know that you own my soul. If this doesn’t work, then maybe you would be kind enough to return it.”
“I would like a chance to win your heart, because you still have mine.”
Paul felt like the wind was knocked out of his stomach. He felt hot and dizzy. He stumbled and went down on his knees.
“Paul, baby. Shit,” Sal sounded distressed as he loomed over him. “I’m so sorry, beautiful. I’ll walk away. Forget I ever existed.”
Paul looked up and realized the position he was in. He was on his knees before Salvatore Alonzo. The man was frowning and his lips were moving, but all Paul saw was the love that had never died. The passion Sal had for him still burned brightly.
His whole being sighed in content, this was his missing piece. He needed his master. Sal had always been his true master, giving him brief respite in Texas’ brutal world, bringing him back from dank pit of death, loving him, caring for him, giving him laughter. Who was he to be so arrogant over one mistake. The mistake broke his heart but measuring it against his life. It was small almost irrelevant in the light of the moon. He had been such a fucking fool to fight it. The it that made him what he was, Lilibet’s words came to him unbidden, “Being a submissive isn’t about being weak. We’re the ones with all the power…” He realized his power on his knees. Sal was right and he wanted to snort, when was he ever truly wrong; he held the man’s very heart in his palm. He could crush it and walk away. Or maybe, he could patch it. It wouldn’t be the same as it had been, but it was still Sal, the man that held his heart as well.
Didn’t mean it was going to be easy. He fought to keep the smile at his revelations from gracing his lips. He was going to give Sal hell.
“Alright,” He croaked and the cleared his throat. He offered his hand to Sal who reacted as if it were a snake ready to strike. He lifted his eyebrow. Sal’s hand covered his own and pulled him to his feet.
The feel of Sal’s skin on his own made him want to cum in his pants. The man let him go quickly and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Are you sure, beau...” He stopped and Paul saw his former master bite his lip hesitantly. He could help the dark pleasure that curled in his gut. This was going to be fun.
He reached out and placed his hand over Sal’s heart. It was beating quickly. The man was just as nervous as he was. “I know you are going to call me beautiful, you won’t be able to help it, will you?” Sal shook his head slowly, almost sheepishly. “So when we go on this date, just so you know,” He dropped his hand and turned to get the hell out of there before he fell apart.
“I won’t mind.”