The Flesh Cartel, #10: False Gods

hip.
    Home. Yes. He was finally home.

One Month Later
    Douglas had blossomed into perfection this past month, as evidenced by the absolutely spectacular foot massage he was currently giving Nikolai, strong hands and formidable attention focused on the sole of Nikolai’s left foot. He’d found that magic spot that seemed to be linked directly to Nikolai’s groin, honed right in, and rubbed and pressed— yes, little pet, I know what you want —but Nikolai just wasn’t feeling it tonight. Was feeling rather maudlin, in fact.
    Because he knew it was time.
    And while he never much cared to part with his creations, this one in particular would feel like a surgical excision. He’d grown far too close to the boy, felt far too affectionate. He’d even seriously considered keeping him—after all, he was earmarked for no one—but the damn brother . . . Now there was a sticky wicket if ever he’d seen one. Just as he knew it was time to sell Douglas on, he knew it was also time to admit partial defeat with Mathias. The only way—the only way—to ensure his client’s safety was to sell Douglas with Mathias. The beast was simply too unpredictable, otherwise. Only one person in the world could control him without breaking him, and that person was currently sliding oiled fingers between Nikolai’s toes.
    And kissing Nikolai’s calf. Knee. Thigh.
    “Douglas.”
    More kissing, and a soft little moan now, too.
    “ Douglas . I have to talk to you.” He took the boy’s face between his hands and tilted it up until he could see those beautiful blue eyes, half-glazed with arousal.
    “Yes, Master,” Douglas said, and fell back so he was sitting on his heels, in position and attentive.
    “It’s been a month now since you came back to me. Since you chose your loyalties.”
    Nervousness and a touch of fear fluttered over Douglas’s carefully arranged features. The boy hated to be reminded of those dark days. Thought now, perhaps, that Nikolai was angry with him, that he’d done something wrong.
    “And since then, your behavior has been exemplary. There’s simply no other way to describe how far you’ve come, Douglas, and how very much you please me.”
    Beaming now, practically glowing , and yet he wrestled that under control as well because good boys weren’t giddy in front of their masters, and said simply, “I learned from the very best, Master. I’m so glad I’ve pleased you.”
    Nikolai reached out to indulge a touch, and Douglas leaned forward into his palm, closed his eyes as Nikolai stroked his hair. He’d be purring if he were capable, but that soft, private smile was enough for Nikolai.
    He leaned back again, waited until the boy’s eyes were back upon him. This was too important to cloud with desire. “You’ve always known what we’ve been working toward here, Douglas.” The boy said nothing, but when Nikolai didn’t press on, Douglas nodded, once, the nervousness back. He knew where this was going. Had to. “And the hard truth is that you’re ready to move on.”
    Too well trained now to protest, but Nikolai could see the tears springing up at the corners of his eyes until he blinked them back. “If . . .” His voice cracked, but he cleared it and pushed on, blinking back new tears. “If Master wishes. I’ll, um . . . I’ll do you proud, sir, I promise. I’ll—” He blushed furiously and ducked his watering eyes, didn’t finish his thought. But Nikolai could read it in his reddened cheeks, in the hunch of his shoulders: I’ll be so good you’ll come back for me.
    Nikolai’s fingers ached to touch the boy, stroke him, reassure him. But now was not the time for coddling. He laced his hands across his lap instead, and said, “You mustn’t think I’m discarding you, Douglas. I would never. And you will come home to me someday, of this I have no doubt. But until then, I need you, Douglas. I need you to do something for me that only you can do.”
    Ah, he had the boy’s attention now, wide eyes fixed on Nikolai’s face, lips slightly parted. Trying to puzzle through what made him unique, how his master could possibly need him and whether he’d live up to the expectation.
    No need to torture him by keeping him waiting. “It’s Mathias, Douglas.” The boy’s nose wrinkled at the mention of his brother. It would’ve been adorable if not for how he also bared his teeth. “He goes to his new master soon, too, and I’ve come to realize that short of breaking him, the only way