* * Stan gets to know Darren, and Connor punishes Stan * *
Wrapped in Stan's arms, Darren drifts. In all the years he's dreamt of finding a boyfriend, of having sex, of having someone to care about him, what's happened in the last two days is doing his head in.
He'd always hoped his first time would be special, with someone he really liked—but with Connor, it's all happened so fast, it's like being run over by a bus.
Until meeting Connor, Darren hadn't thought he was good looking enough to catch the attention of someone that hot. And then once he was fired up, whether or not Connor liked him had become irrelevant.
And now, after being fucked by a man whose gaze alone raises goose bumps along Darren's arms, he has another guy who's way too good-looking to be interested in him spooning him.
Darren knows Stan doesn't care about him as much as his touch suggests he does; they've only just met. But Stan seems kind, and his touch is so gentle, his voice soothing. There's nothing mean in him, and in that, Darren knows they're alike—because there's nothing mean in Darren either. And knowing someone as strong and good-looking as Stan's just like him, makes Darren feel better about how much he wants to submit to Connor.
He shudders in Stanton's arms as he replays Connor fucking him, telling him to kneel, to suck, to swallow—and it's enough to rouse him again.
Stan stirs at his back, and the older boy's hand drifts down to close around Darren's thickening erection.
"So soon?" says Stan. "Just as well Connor decided not to cage you."
Darren shifts, and turns around in Stan's arms until he's facing the older boy. "What does that mean? 'Cage' me?"
Stan wishes he hadn't raised it now. Not only does he not want to explain, it reminds him that it's him who's now going to be made to suffer.
"Tell you what. Let's wash up and go get something to eat."
Anything to change the subject.
Stan gets off the bed and holds a hand out to Darren, pulling him to his feet. He puts his arms around the smaller boy and after a moment Darren puts his arms around Stan's neck and buries his head against the older boy's chest.
"You know, you don't have to ever come back if you don't want to," Stan whispers.
"I know," says Darren, his lips tickling against Stan's chest as he speaks. He looks up at Stan and his eyes are liquid, so blue in his otherwise ordinary face, that his eyes are all Stan sees.
"But then I'd never see you again? Would I?"
Smart kid. There's no way Connor would let Stan see Darren if he wasn't fucking the boy himself.
Stan shakes his head. "But still, if it gets too much..."
"You'll look after me." Darren smiles up at Stan. He's so confident the older boy will take care of him, Stan feels a stab of guilt. As much as he
wants
to make sure Connor doesn't damage this innocent kid's mind, Connor still owns his arse.
Stan can take Darren's punishments as long as Connor lets him, but eventually Connor'll grow bored. And when he does, Darren will be forced to submit, or Connor will tell him to never come back.
"Just... do as he says," says Stan, thinking of how uncomfortable the cock cage is that Connor keeps in his desk drawer. He's only been forced to wear it once, but once was more than enough. Apart from the humiliation, the weight and the sensation of the metal squeezing his dick was torture. Being around Connor already made him constantly horny, but having something clamped around his cock made him hyper-aware of it, and unable to get an erection, never mind touch himself.
He leads Darren into the bathroom and encourages the younger boy to squeeze into the glass box with him. It's close and it's steamy and hot, and soon their hard dicks are soapy and sliding against each other.
May as well make the most of my freedom while I have it,
thinks Stan, as he tenderly kisses Darren, one hand massaging their slick cocks between them.
There's no room to do much more than press their bodies together, but both boys are content to soap each other, to be close. To take their release this way.
After they're clean, Stan takes Darren to one of the campus cafes for a coffee.
"I'm supposed to have a lecture now," says Darren, cradling his travel cup with both hands.
"What made you decide you wanted to be an architect?" asks Stan.
Darren laughs, his voice light. "I come from a long line of architects that stretches all the way back to Michelangelo."
"Really?" asks Stan, as he takes a sip of his coffee.
"No," Darren laughs again. "I don't know, I had to study something. Drawing all day seemed easier than most other things."
Stan snorts in amusement. "I guess that's one way to pick a career."
Darren looks down shyly at his coffee. "What are you studying?"
"Civil Engineering."
Darren glances up at him. "Is that hard?"
Stan shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. "I don't know if
hard
is the right word. I don't think anything's hard if it's something that really appeals to you."
"It's what you really want to do?"
Stan nods, and excitement enters his voice. "Yeah. I've always had this dream of designing affordable social housing so that everyone in Britain will have somewhere to live—preferably without creating more concrete slums. Integrating green areas, using sustainable building materials, and incorporating better methods of providing energy, like the new solar tiles Tesla's developing..." Stan trails off, embarrassed by his own passion.
"Wow, you actually have a dream," says Darren, impressed, and not a little intimidated.
Stan checks his phone. "Actually, I'm supposed to be catching up with my project group in about half an hour."
"Oh. Am I holding you up?" The kid's eyes are wide and distressed.
"No." Stan slides a hand across the table, and Darren blushes and glances away as Stan takes his hand. "No, I want to be here."
Darren's blush intensifies and Stan can feel him shaking. He realises it's too much, and starts to take his hand back, but Darren grabs his wrist. The younger boy's face is bright red, his eyes cast down towards the floor.
Stan takes his hand again, and they sit like that for as long as it takes for Darren's shaking to subside.
Finally, the younger boy finds the courage to turn his eyes back to the table. His eyes fix to Stan's larger hand wrapped around his own.
