*Welcome to the final chapter of Poor Simon!
All characters are 18+
I have decided to do the last chapter in 3rd person to give people a little perspective with Anthony.
Thank you for staying with me and please enjoy!*
OCTOBER,ONE YEAR LATER...
Anthony Rogan Christopher woke up, feeling foggy and pleasant. Glancing at the blue digital readout told him that he had six more minutes until the alarm rang. Six minutes to laze around in bed.
As he rolled from his side to his back, the slender blonde boy at his side moaned sleepily and snuggled in further. Anthony felt a soft pang as he looked down in the near darkness at that mussed up head and dreaming face. They had been so lucky, it was a chance in a thousand that they hadn't been killed, a chance in ten thousand that the Fishers hadn't tightened their grip.
Anthony sighed as the alarm clock blared, quickly tapping the button and moving smoothly out of bed as not to wake his partner. He quickly and quietly got dressed in a business suit in the semidarkness of the room. He tucked the covers around Simon's curled up form as Simon murmured sleepily.
"See you in the afternoon Simon." Anthony kissed one velvety soft cheek. Simon hated being called pet names, especially sweetheart. He said it reminded him too much of Hanson. It didn't matter that Hanson's body had been mucked out of Hudson Bay eight months ago.
Anthony sighed and left Simon to sleep for another hour or so.
---
The first few months had been the worst. The months of paranoia, seeing Fisher spies everywhere. Every time Simon accidentally called him Master, it nearly broke his heart. Simon had been badly damaged, even by his brief stay. He had suffered long nightmares and apathetic days where he wept and laughed sometimes on the same breath. Anthony had been very afraid for him, but unable to comfort him.
Their relationship had been a platonic one until the third month, so that was another heaped-on bundle of awkwardness that had made everything worse.
They had reached a breakthrough when Simon joined Anthony for a morning jog. Exercise vented the deep hurts in him. Simon felt weird and logy if he didn't get at least an hour of exercise a day, and preferably two.
The end of those first two months, and all the pain and uncertainty that went with them, came when Simon finally had the courage to start having sex with Anthony again. Not anal sex, he still wasn't ready for that, but a series of blowjobs and handjobs and the cuddling that came after did worlds to mend their relationship.
---
Anthony sat at his desk. One minute he had been busy writing software and the next, he was suddenly lost in thought. A year ago, he never would have believed that he would have been able to have a perfectly stable and enjoyable life doing what he went to college for. He hadn't actually finished his degree in real life, but the forged papers in his envelope had helped with that, plus a few night classes to keep up.
Simon had finished up a second semester in high school when they came back. He had made a few friends even, and whenever they came over, they thought that Anthony was his uncle. High school had been easy for him, since he was no longer taking advanced placement classes, and he had graduated in the summer with a sweet little smile as he took his diploma. Now he was taking classes at the U of Minnesota Duluth.
Anthony had not wanted to go to Minnesota on the off chance that they found someone who recognized Simon, but Simon had been so homesick, and he had wanted to see his parent's graves. They lived in Duluth so they weren't close to the twin Cities, and Anthony had gotten used to the six-month winters.
Anthony frowned as he opened up his emails. There were the usual emails about work, a brief message from Simon telling him that he had aced his English final, and one weird lone email from an address he didn't recognize. When Anthony opened it, the message said,
Meet me at the little café on second street and Washburn, I have news.
When Anthony saw the signature, he froze a little. For a moment he was at war with himself. He knew he had to go, but at the same time he worried about Simon.
After a minute or so of staring moodily at the brief message, Anthony sent a reply to Simon, congratulations, and telling him not to make dinner, he was going to meet up at the café with a friend from work. It wasn't a lie, not quite.
---
Anthony stopped home briefly before his appointment. They had bought a small house that was very cheap because of the recession. The lights in the living room were up, but Anthony could hear a soft ripple of water and see the light from the upstairs bathroom. Simon often liked to take long hot baths with a book right when he came home from school.
Quietly, Anthony crept into the bathroom.
Simon was so beautiful. He was resting lazily in the tub, eyes focused on a fat little novel by Stephan King. His hair was wet near the back of his neck but dry on top. His slender hard body was laid out for him to see and touch.
Simon jumped a little when he saw him, and a wide smile graced that oval face. "Hi Anthony, how was work?" His cheeks were a bit redder then the heat of the tub could account for. His penis floated limply in the hot water from a small tuft of gingery blonde hair.
Anthony set down his briefcase and took of his jacket, as he rolled up his sleeves he murmured. "It was a good day, and I'm afraid I can't stay very long before I meet my friend."
Anthony knelt on the white tiles behind Simon and the tub. He leaned forward and kissed those full red lips softly. Simon moaned.
Anthony crept his hands downward, gently rubbing his body through the water. One hand halted at those sweet pink little nipples, tugging and twisting and bringing them to bud. The other hand didn't halt until it wrapped around the semi-hardened shaft of Simon's cock.
Anthony's eyes opened halfway, and he felt another pang as he saw the outline of silvery scars on Simon's chest. They had faded with time and application of vitamin E oil, but they would never really disappear.
Simon whimpered a little as Anthony lowered his proud handsome head to suck and nibble at his neck. The time in the bathtub was sweetly extended because the warmth of the water made it harder for Simon to maintain an erection.
But Anthony's touch was irresistible and eventually Simon arched his back and cried out softly. Simon had always made the sexiest noises. Droplets of cum spurted into the water and dissipated like milk in coffee.
Simon's head sagged against the rim of the tub and he panted. He looked up hopefully at Anthony. The older man looked at his watch and swore softly.
"I don't have the time Simon, but I promise you can take care of me when I get back."
