Redemption's A Bitch - 1. You Can Always Get What You Want

Kieran surveyed the club, and yawned. In between the bass beats and flashing lights, bodies writhed and twisted; shirtless, tanned and sweat soaked skin decorated with tattoos or glitter; bare chests boasting ripped abs, perfectly sculpted pecs, washboard flat stomachs, taut skin; hair styled right to the edge of cutting fashion and shaved from abdomens and armpits. Kieran took it all in and rolled the base of the nearly empty cider bottle around on the high table leaving a trail of condensation which glittered in the strobe. He was bored.

“Hey Tristan!” Ash-lay waved at him from across the raised floor of the main bar. He sashayed across the room, dragging behind him the overly muscled figure of his latest boyfriend. It never failed to amaze Kieran that Ash-lay, with his ridiculously pronounced name and tiny slender physique, could wrap a macho muscle-bound gym-bunny around his little finger whenever he wanted to. The blond hunk looked totally bewildered by his current situation.

Kieran smiled at them.

“Tristan!” Ash-lay blew a series of air kisses in an overly showy manner. “You look sterling as always darling… positively platinum.”

“Thank you.” Kieran smiled to himself, and drained the last of his cider. It was appallingly bad, but Kieran refused to sample any of the outlandish cocktails the club specialised in. As for the vibrant blue alco-pop the gym-bunny was clasping, Kieran wouldn’t be seen dead. “Are you not going to introduce me to your new friend?”

“And have you steal him?” Ash-lay arched one perfectly waxed eyebrow. “What on earth are you drinking? The calories Tristan! Do you not think about your figure?”

Kieran pulled up the hem of his t-shirt revealing an abdomen with a visible six pack and clean cut lines pointing towards his crotch. He glanced up through his dark lashes and saw Ash-lay’s friend begin to blush furiously.

“I’m good.”

“Oh honey, are you ever!” Ash-lay made a show of fanning himself. “Excuse us; I must go take Phil to dance.”

“No worries.” Kieran looked at the young man levelly, smiling just a little bit. “Nice to meet you Phil.”

“You too.”

Kieran watched as Ash-lay dragged the young man away. He did not miss the backwards glance Phil gave him, and Kieran knew that if he wanted him, he could have the muscle bound hunk on his knees in a bathroom stall, his chiselled lips wrapped around Kieran’s cock within half an hour. For a long moment, Kieran considered the opportunity, even if only to relieve the boredom. But Ash-lay hadn’t been joking, and Kieran had stolen his partners before to make them his conquests, and many more than Ash-lay realised. Blushing men and boys had returned to him at the bar and dance floor and never mentioned their other trysts. It wasn’t that Kieran didn’t like Ash-lay, or any of the other members of his club-social circle, it was just that stealing their dates was so incredibly easy.

Kieran decided not to bother, the simplicity with which he could manipulate Phil held no attraction for him, and he thought it would make Ash-lay happy to have this one. Suddenly, the club annoyed him, and Kieran decided to abandon the sweaty atmosphere and the dancing, sensuous bodies. He wanted a drink he could actually enjoy.

As he left, plenty of people smiled or nodded, a few scowled. Some called out to him and Kieran raised a hand to them in reply. There were beautiful men and boys he could proposition as easily as blinking, but Kieran was no longer in the mood. The young man at the coat check blushed a particularly lovely shade of rosé pink as Kieran handed his slip across the narrow desk.

“M-Mister Toyne!” The kid was new, and his fingers shook as he checked the number on the ticket. “It’s very early, is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine…” Kieran searched for the boy’s name.

“Nick.” He supplied readily.

“Everything’s fine Nick, thank you.” Kieran took his jacket: leather, black, expensive, but beautifully constructed and very functional.

“I mean, if there’s anything I can do for you.” Nick bit his lower lip. His blushing complexion was becoming more attractive by the second.

It didn’t take long. One long look, a few quick words, and Kieran was inside the little office at the back of the booth, leaning against the wall, one hand laced into Nick’s heavily styled hair while the boy sucked him off. Late arrivals waiting to hand in their coats tutted and stamped their feet, and Kieran grinned, watching them through the one way glass of the office door. Nick was good at his task, and made use of his nimble fingers to satisfy the length of Kieran he could not swallow, his hot little mouth doing the rest of the work. Kieran allowed his spine to sag back against the wall and relaxed into the pleasure. There was no point getting this far and not enjoying himself. Nick was very eager to please, obeyed every instruction whether moaned, groaned, or simply implied by the set of Kieran’s hips, and Kieran was conscientious enough to give the boy warning of his impending orgasm. Nick chose to swallow, and just for that, Kieran thought more of him.

He brought the boy off with his hand, squeezing his pert little rear as Nick panted against the wall, presenting himself beautifully to his intimate companion. The high pitched begging of the younger man made Kieran smile possessively. He doubted little Nick would be able to think of anything else for a long while. When it was done he straightened his clothes, cleaned his fingers off with a tissue, and kissed the post-orgasmic Nick deeply before he let himself out of the office. It had been easy, but it had been fun, and Kieran was smiling as he exited the club. He still wanted a proper drink, so he headed obliquely through town to his favourite bar where one could actually hold a conversation over the level of the music, and ordered a real bottle of cider and a shot of bourbon.

“Evening Tristan Toyne.” Kieran always introduced himself with both his last names, and every barman he’d ever met echoed them back to him, including the one at The King Phillip. “What brings you to us tonight, isn’t Thursday usually a club day?”

“Usually.” Kieran threw back his shot, and then raised his bottle to Andy-the-barman. “Got bored.”

“Don’t you ever?” Andy moved along to serve another customer and worked his way back. “How are you?”

“I’m good, life is easy.” Kieran nodded to him. “And you?”

“If I looked like you, my life would be easy too. Or if I looked like him.” Andy nodded to a man across the bar, sitting at a high table in the arched window, sipping from a gin and tonic. He was well built, groomed, and he drank like he had a grudge against the slice of lemon at the bottom of his glass. Kieran liked him.

“Get me a g and t.”

“I knew that was comin’.” Andy was already pouring the tonic water into the straight sided glass. “Extra lemon?”

“Yup.” Kieran took the glass without looking, and stepped confidently across the bar. Andy would put the drinks on his account: Kieran loved not having to worry about money. “Hi.” Kieran placed the drinks down on the little round table and pushed the gin and tonic across to his new companion. “May I sit?”

“Please.” The handsome stranger smiled at him. “They always make the fruit so hard to get out of these things.”

Kieran smiled, running the tip of his tongue over the sharp edge of his even white teeth. He reached into the top of the new glass and fished out the extra slice of lemon with slender fingers. Chin on his knuckles, he reached out with the citrus slice and dripping alcoholic fingers to the man’s lips, his bright green eyes never dropping his companion’s gaze. The man was like a rabbit in headlights, and his lips parted automatically to take the fruit. Kieran brushed his fingertips over the man’s lower lip sensually before pulling back.

“Tristan Toyne.”

“Graham Reynolds.”

“How do you like your drink, Graham?” Kieran smiled, smugness rolling off him. The other man was already looking at him like he was some kind of god. It was so much fun. Kieran licked the liquid off his own fingers, even though he wasn’t a fan of gin, and watched Graham’s pupils dilate.

“S-s-sorry… Did you ask me something?”

“Plans tonight?”

They both drank fast.

Outside Kieran sequestered a taxi, put it on his account, and smiled as Graham’s arm slipped around his waist.

“My place or yours?”

“Yours.” Kieran turned to face him, bringing their hips into direct contact. “My place is a mess, the builders are in.”

Graham gave the address to the taxi as they slid into the back of the cab, and no sooner than the door was shut, the well-built man’s hands were doing their best to get inside his clothes. Kieran took his jaw and kissed him hard, exploring Graham’s mouth with his tongue, sharing the taste of gin and lemon between them.

“Top or bottom?” Graham was breathless as they turned onto the residential street. It was an alright sort of neighbourhood, and miles out of Kieran’s usual way home.

“Either.” Kieran spoke against Graham’s skin, eager to taste him. He was faintly salty, his aroma coloured by aftershave and fancy soap. “Where would you like to be?”

It was a fairly loaded question. Usually, Kieran was very specific in what he wanted, but he’d already been satisfied once this evening, and Graham seemed very sweet and very responsive. With a guy like him, tradition might dictate that he wanted to top, give his impressive stature and well-built form, but Kieran knew all too well that big guys liked to get fucked too, so it wasn’t a surprise when Graham whispered “please fuck me” breathlessly against the taut skin of his throat.

They wasted no time, Kieran nodded to the cabbie and slipped out of the car, and they tripped up the stairs to Graham’s apartment. Typical for this end of town, it was partially original industrial brickwork and the rest clean, pale and minimalist. Only a handful of magazines in the lounge showed the place was lived in at all.

Kieran took charge. After ten seconds of pushing Graham roughly up against the wall and kissing him hard, he knew that being dominated, even if only in a small way, was exactly what his partner wanted. There was no shame in it, everyone wanted to be able to let go sometimes and simply be told what to do. Kieran had half-hoped, well not only half, that the other man had made a different decision, because it seemed to Kieran to have been a very long time since anyone made him want to go weak at the knees. He tore open his shirt, spreading his fingers over gym-built muscles, his tongue abandoning Graham’s lemon and gin mouth to lick and nibble at one pink nipple until Graham was panting and whining against the wall.

“Bed.”

Graham took his hand and pulled him along the passage, both of them still kissing, hands frantic and unable to break contact with each other bodies. Kieran divested himself of his jacket and boots, pulled his t-shirt off over his head and let Graham open his fly as they reached the bedroom, fingers closing around the base of his cock. Kieran didn’t generally believe in wearing underwear if he was going out to score. Graham sank to his knees, pushing Kieran’s trousers further down until the young man could step out of them, and stared worshipfully at his cock. Kieran smirked.

“While you’re down there…”

Graham was far from an expert cocksucker, not as good as Nick had been by a long way, but Kieran figured he didn’t get much practice with something of this size. After five minutes of pleasurable fumbling, Kieran yanked him up, stripped him the rest of the way, and pushed Graham back onto the bed. He braced against the man’s hips and wrapped his lips around Graham’s erection. He was clean shaven, newly washed, and a good size; girthy and easy to handle. Kieran was excellent in the use of his tongue, and within a few minutes had Graham moaning and purring on the edge of his orgasm. He returned to his fallen jeans to collect a condom, and when he turned back to Graham the man had positioned himself on the very edge of the bed, his legs spread wide, a small bottle of lube in his hand.

“Thanks.” Kieran kissed him as he rolled the latex over his throbbing cock. The snap of the plastic lid was loud in the semi-dark quiet of the room. He smiled down at his lover. “How long?”

Graham was silent for a moment, chest heaving, sweat glistening on his tanned skin.

“A while… I’m sor-”

Kieran cut him off with a kiss, pushing past his lips and teeth, invading him deeply. Giving the man something else to think about would make the first penetration easier. Kieran spread lubricant over his fingers, decided to make good use of his long slim digits, and stroked Graham’s circumcised dick with one hand while he pressed into his tight entrance with the other. Graham moaned in his mouth, but Kieran didn’t stop, and soon he was sawing in and out of the slick passageway in time with the stroking of Graham’s cock. When he felt his lover’s hips thrust back against his hand, he knew he was ready.

The young man wiped more lube over his latex covered erection and lined himself up, his hands on Graham’s knees, spreading him wide. It was a magnificent sight, to watch this strong, well-built stud with his cock lying against his abdomen, blushing hard, his little hole flexing in time with his pulse, begging to be entered again. Kieran grinned, and obliged.

It was fairly standard, and though Graham came quickly, spurting over his own chest and taut belly, Kieran continued to fuck him with the whole of his length, deriving such wondrous pleasure from Graham’s gripping, post orgasmic shaft. When there was a bed, Kieran did not believe in quick and hurried fucks, and so Graham moaned his name as his member began to stiffen again between them, rocking his hips against his lover’s deep thrusts. When Graham hit his second peak, Kieran growled in pleasure, pounded him too-roughly for ten seconds before flooding the condom, every muscle standing out tense and rigid as stone under his smooth skin.

He cleaned up after five minutes of sweaty panting, returned to the bedroom as Graham did the same. They lay on the bed together, half under one layer of thin sheet, and Graham kissed him and thanked him, told him how beautiful he was, how marvellous, how talented. Kieran smiled and watched the man fall asleep, wiped out after two orgasms in such quick succession. For half an hour, he dozed, relaxing into the bed, which was not uncomfortable, before getting up again. In the bathroom he called a cab, took a quick shower without un-braiding his hair, dressed and left a note for graham on the bedside cabinet. It had been fun, but he didn’t leave his number. When he slid into the back of the cab, he looked up to see a familiar face.

“Hi Bernie. Home please.”

“Right you are Mister Toyne. You need to stop anywhere on the way?” Bernie smiled at him in the rear view mirror. He was the best sort of cabbie; reliable, friendly, and not in the least bothered by his best client’s proclivities. While Kieran took city cabs whenever he had to, he much preferred to call in a private hire.

“No thanks Bernie, just home.” Kieran relaxed into the leather interior of the cab, snuggling into the sheepskin collar of his leather jacket. “Just home.”

*

Home was right on the outer edge of town, too far a walk into town to be called useful. It wasn’t the sort of house Kieran would have chosen himself necessarily, but that was the beauty of living with family: compromise. Extensive work had been done to the million pound town mansion since Kieran had moved in, in order to accommodate his needs, and after thanking Bernie and watching the automatic security gates close behind the cab, he let himself in through the side door of the garage. Not that it looked like a garage from the outside, at least, not in the traditional sense. The whole house was modelled with mock-Tudor frontage, and that’s how it had stayed after the remodelling, cutting edge technology and sleek modern design hidden under a few layers of plaster work and black painted timber frames.

Kieran stroked the bikes as he passed them, his machines sleeping under their silky covers, engines cold and quiet, many of them plugged into trickle chargers because he had not used them this side of the winter. He petted the bonnet of the Audi before leaving the garage, letting himself in through the side door and into the room between the garage and house proper. There was one bark, and then nothing but soft wuffing and wagging tails in the half light. Kieran reached out and turned off the low-volume radio which he often left on to keep the dogs company.

“How are my good boys?” Kieran knelt and was immediately swamped by thick fur and long pink tongues. “Hey there Shadow, you been keeping everyone in line?” The large, mostly black husky, barked gently in response. “Good lad, come on boys, out in the garden.”

Kieran was accompanied out into the massive sloping garden by the dogs. Shadow was flanked by the two brothers, Inu and Suk, two near identical malamutes with classic white markings and liver-brown masks. Following obediently at Kieran’s heels was the smallest of the big dogs, which wasn’t saying much, and Kieran allowed his fingers to rest in the Czechoslovakian wolf-dogs coarse fur. Vuka rubbed against his leg with a soft whine.

“You OK there Vuka? You missed me?” Kieran smiled and ruffled the wolf-dogs ears before slapping his own chest firmly. “C’mon! Up!”

Vuka jumped up to his chest and Kieran carried the dog a little way into the garden before Vuka licked his face and wiggled. After that he jumped down from Kieran’s arms and ran to join his pack mates.

Kieran petted and played with each of the dogs. They found toys from around the garden and brought them to him to be thrown and tossed towards the thick hedge. Shadow burrowed into the undergrowth and made a game of springing out and surprising the other dogs, and once Kieran was sure that the boys had their fill of the outdoors and had done their business in the hedges, he whistled to them and in a bustle of fur they went inside.

There were many reasons Kieran never invited his dates, one-night stands and random shags back to the house, and it wasn’t only the dogs. Despite it being, by that point, nearly two in the morning, Kieran was not the only one awake.

“Kier…”

Each of the dogs halted at Kieran’s quick gesture, and they sat where they stood. Kieran sighed and approached his cousin’s open doorway.

“Sorry Shas. I’ll keep it down.”

“It’s the middle of the night Kier.” The long figure of Shastan appeared in the dark doorway wrapped up in a dressing gown. His cousin clearly hadn’t yet been properly to bed. “I wish you wouldn’t be out so late.”

“You don’t need to wait up for me, I’m not a child.” Kieran clicked to the dogs. “I can’t leave the boys to sleep in the den all night, it wouldn’t be fair.”

“And when are you going to get a full night’s rest?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Kieran shot back. “Stop worrying about me. You’re the one who’s getting married. Where is Rebecca anyway?”

“Her mum wanted her home for the night. You need to be decent tomorrow. The bridal people are coming for the last fitting.”

“They’re coming here?” Kieran sighed. “Aww Shas, is it too much to ask for the house not be filled with girly shit all of the time?”

“It’s one day Kieran, you’ll live.”

“You won’t if you don’t sleep. Go to bed Shas; you know you don’t have my stamina.” Kieran clicked to the dogs. “Shadow, Vuka, Inu, Suk! With me. Bed time lads.”

Kieran had chosen, at the tender age of fifteen, to have the room on the top floor as his own. This had evolved when the house was remodelled to span pretty much the entire top floor, split over three levels and designed in a large open-plan manner with wide arched doorways. Kieran stripped as he walked through his suite, dumping all of his clothes in the big wicker hamper and throwing his leather jacket over a sofa with a careless aim. His bed sat on a raised area in the room, and Kieran jumped easily up the three steps and threw himself onto the thick duvet. Each dog circled and rubbed, and Kieran petted each of them as they began to settle. Each had beds, though they often ignored them, and Kieran patted the mattress as he slipped under the covers. Shadow jumped up beside his master and lay down quickly.

“Lights out.” Kieran commanded. Half a second later, all was dark.

Kieran stretched out under the down and silk filled duvet, luxuriating in the ultimate comfort of being back in his own bed. When the fancy mattress had first arrived, he’d hated it, unable to sleep in such expense and softness. Now things were different and Kieran could sleep anywhere, but there was nothing quite like his own bed. Shadow wiggled across the mattress and nosed at his hand, and Kieran settled to stroking the soft Siberian ears. All in all, it had threatened to be a very dull evening, but little Nick, and then Graham, had made everything much easier, enjoyable even. He’d had fun.

Lying in his enormous bed, comforted by the warmth of his dog, Kieran smiled. In the end, he always got what he wanted. He glanced at the softly lit digits of the clock as three am clicked past. He sighed.

“Happy Birthday, Kieran Tristan Toyne. Welcome to being twenty-four.”