Stephen - Sean Michael Page 0,8
else appearing on your doorstep.”
“Yeah, that would have been…Hell, it was already awkward.” And now he was here.
“All’s well that ends well.” Champ gave him a wink. A knock interrupted anything he might have had to say. “That’s the guys. Come on.” Champ took his hand and led him back out to the fancy front room.
“Do I look okay?” He straightened his hair, his beard.
Champ bent and kissed him, hard. “There. Now you look perfect.”
Champ opened the door, and two big studs stood there.
“Friends.”
“Is this one yours? He smells like sex. Look at all the hair.”
Champ rolled his eyes. “Manners, boys. This is Stephen. He’s the boy I was meant to meet, and meet him I did. It’s his roommate who put the ad on the internet, and we’re worried he’s going to go home this evening and run into someone out to harm him. Oh, manners, Champagne. Stephen, these are my friends Bernoise and Francoise. Berny and France for short.”
They were huge, both dark haired, one with near-black eyes, one with emerald eyes, and they were both staring at him, so he instinctively grabbed for Champ’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Champ’s fingers twisted with his, just as natural as could be. “You guys want a drink while Stephen tells you about Marc?”
Both men nodded, and they headed toward the wet bar like they knew just what they wanted.
Champ drew him to a couch and sat with him. “So, you know I found that ad earlier. Well, I called and the boy gave me his address, but when I got there, it was his roommate who answered the door. I brought him here, because his place isn’t safe now. Marc comes back after work and needs someone there to take care of him, because he doesn’t realize he’s in danger.”
“I don’t think he cares,” he whispered. Marc wanted to be punished, rewarded, taken, and held.
“No?” Champ shook his head. “He definitely needs the strict Daddy he asked for, doesn’t he?”
Stephen nodded, and Berny grinned, the smile toothy and wicked. “Or two, eh? France and I know exactly what to do with a bad boy.”
“I—Are you going to be good to him? He’s not evil. I swear. Just…sort of reckless.” He needed to be sure they wanted to be what Marc needed.
“What was it the ad said?” France asked Champ.
“Uh, bad boy looking for punishments from a strict Daddy, duo’s welcome.”
“Then we’re going to be very good to him. Especially when he’s bad.” France all but purred the words.
“Fuck yes.” Berny grabbed France and kissed him, hard, and Stephen stared at Champ, not sure if he could be aroused or not.
“They’re a very sexy pair, aren’t they? They’ve always been so pretty together.”
“I—They’re pretty, but they…they aren’t you.” Champ was ethereal, kind, strong.
“Oh, Stephen, you really are a keeper.” Champ brought their lips together.
Something about Champ eased him, melted him deep down. He even almost forgot there were two other people in the room. Almost.
“Goddess, this one makes him glow, doesn’t he?” The husky voice made his cheeks heat.
“He’s special,” Champ noted.
“Yeah, we can see that.” France sat on the chair closest to the couch. “Tell me about this Marc, boy. You’ll have better information than Champy.”
“He works at a paper store. He lives on Coke and Lucky Charms. He loves music more than anything. He was a foster kid, like me.”
“No offense, but you don’t seem like a bad boy,” Berny told him. “Is Marc like you in that, too, or is he really a bad boy?”
“He’s not bad! He’s just…restless, reckless, you know. No self-control.” He didn’t have half Marc’s confidence. He’d been good and had been rejected. “I should go home and wait for him. I don’t want him scared.”
“We aren’t going to scare him,” Berny noted.
“If you call him so he knows to expect Berny and France, he shouldn’t be scared.” Champ squeezed his hand.
France seemed to…sniff the air. “Did this Marc hurt you, Stephen. Is he the one?”
“What? No!”
Champ’s arm came around his shoulders, hand stroking his arm, gentling him. “No, it wasn’t another boy who hurt him. It was Doms.”
“Doms? Plural?” Berny asked.
“It doesn’t matter.” They didn’t need to talk about it.
“Of course it matters,” Champ told him.
“You’re damn right it does. Doms have a responsibility to boys. To know one of us—more than one of us—hurt you badly is a black mark on all of us.” France growled and paced. “Tell us who and we’ll take care of it.”
He shook his head. What if