Blue 42 by C.A. Rene
Chapter thirty-one
Sebastian
His street is dark and the yellow hue of the streetlights make everything seem dull. I sit in the driver’s seat and watch his house, the windows all dark. I let that shit happen again and I curse myself for the lack of self control. The second he stepped into that locker room before the game, I was a goner, and I knew in the back of my mind, he and I were far from over. Why though? Why couldn’t I set Dixon North free?
The gates start to swing open and I sit up straighter, watching to see who’s leaving his house. I swear to god if it’s Dani, I will shoot her through her windshield, and then go inside and shoot him too. It’s not Dani - luckily for them both - and it’s not Dixon either. I would assume it’s his mother since she looks the right age and I know there’s no one else in that house. She drives away down the street and I wait, watching the gates as they stay open. After ten minutes of watching, the gates don’t close, and I curse his mother for not being careful.
I pull into his driveway and ride up to the house, everything still dark inside. I grab my gun out of the glove box and get out of the Hummer, tucking my piece in my waistband. I walk up to his door slowly and look to the blinking red light in the corner. I knock on the door and wait, it’s late so I don't ring the doorbell. These large homes have some ridiculous chiming doorbells and I don’t want to disturb anyone inside. I don’t know if that was his mother or not and she could still be here.
When no one comes to the door, I try knocking again a bit louder, and look up to the camera, raising my brow. Is he watching me? I’m standing here at his damn door, hours after he fucked me in the same stall I first forced him to take my dick, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s laughing while I stand here. I refuse to be a needy bitch and wait for him. I reach for the door handle and I’m shocked that it’s open, the door swinging open wide.
Did he not learn anything when I said I was inside of his house?
I shut the door with a loud resounding thud and wait, but nothing happens. There’s no noise and the house is eerily still, too quiet. I jog up the steps and run to the room I know is his, kicking open the door loudly. Fuck whoever is disturbed, none of this feels right, and if his mental state is anything like mine, then I know he’s in trouble.
“North!” I yell into his bedroom and I don’t hear any response.
I see the curtains billowing around his sliding door and run for that, tripping over the ledge. I end up out on a balcony that faces the backyard and I suck in a lungful of fresh cold air. Just as I look to the sky, snowflakes begin to fall, and I hear a sarcastic snort from my right.
“I should’ve known you would break in again.” I turn to see Dixon sitting in the corner with a whiskey bottle in his hand.
“Are you fucking stupid?” I yell at him, “didn’t you hear me call your name?”
“I did,” he takes a swig from the bottle, “I was just hoping you’d go away, but you never do, do you?”
“Nah,” I stare down at him, “and I can’t break into a home that’s left completely open.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He takes another swig.
“Was that your mom that left?” I ask him and swipe the bottle out of his hand, taking a gulp.
“She left?” he chuckles and the sound sends chills down my spine, “she called me Danny.”
His words hit me like a freight train and I feel his pain as if it were my own. The heavy feel of it is palpable in the air and I sit down next to him, gulping from the bottle before handing it back.
“She’s sad,” I tell him, “seeing you probably reminds her constantly about him and it would be easy enough to do.”
“I didn’t get mad at her,” he sounds so small and I watch as he takes another sip, “I broke down.”
That crushes me a bit more and I feel for him. His only family left in the world just left him and he’s struggling with survivor’s guilt. I see it and I know it well, I live with it daily. Having the life I do was never easy and even though I have money now, it doesn’t change where I came from. I had friends murdered similarly to Little North and I still ask myself every day why I’m here and they’re not.
“You can go now,” he sneers, “and you need to stop breaking into my shit.”
“This time I rode right up,” I stand, anger pulsing in my chest and shooting straight to my cock. This is our own brand of foreplay.
“Then you can ride right back out.” I know I should take it easier on him, that his heart is broken, and his soul is bruised, but I think he’s doing it on purpose. He wants me to help him forget for a while.
I can do that.
I grab him by his shirt and haul him up out of his chair, he puts up a struggle but it’s no use. He tries to swing the bottle at my head but I block his arm and the bottle crashes into the concrete, smashing into pieces. He bares his teeth and tries to headbutt me but I grab him around his throat, forcing him into his bedroom.
“What else do you need, Dixon?” I whisper against his mouth and he tries to bite me, “do you need me to fuck you?”
He growls and tries to twist out of my hold but I tighten my grip, his eyes widening at the lack of air. I can see the exact moment when the anger in his eyes burns bright with lust and I know he’s wanting more than just a fight. I let go of his throat but he surprises me with a quick left, connecting with my cheek. My blood boils with rage as I reach for my piece at my back and press it to his forehead.
There’s no reaction and he stands there, staring me down, “do it.” His voice is low and defeated. “Kill me!” He screams and grabs the barrel, pressing it in harder, “fucking do it!”
I pull back a few inches and hit him with my left fist, making him fall on the bed and away from the gun. “Why do you want to die?” I ask him and he stays motionless on the bed, “tell me,” I kick his leg, worried he’s passed out.
“Because I hate it here.” So damn defeated and given up.
I crawl over him, my gun still in my right hand, and press myself into his ass, “I can’t kill you, Dixon North.” I whisper in his ear.
“Why not?” he mumbles and presses his ass against me.
“Because I don’t want to be here without you, even though I hate it, too.” I admit and I hear his breath catch.
“Use the fucking gun on me, Seb.” A sob catches in his chest. Seb.
“Use the gun, huh?” I push myself up and pull down his track pants. He doesn’t fight me and when the cool metal of the gun barrel slips between his ass cheeks, he barely flinches. “Like this?”
He doesn’t pull away and my heart begins to speed up, I like when he’s submissive like this. I continue thrusting the barrel between his ass cheeks, warming the metal, and then I press it into his ass. I watch as his hole widens and swallows up the tip of the gun, his back moving rapidly with his breaths.
“Do you like how I’m using my gun?” I ask him and push in further. He moans at the intrusion and widens his legs.
I take that as a yes and begin to fuck him hard with the gun, my hand hitting his flesh with my thrusts. His moans become louder and my cock is straining against my pants, desperate to take the gun’s place. I pull out the barrel and toss it onto the bed, yanking my pants down quickly. I spit onto my hand and rub it along my length, then line myself up.
“We need to get lube.” I tell him as I thrust into him.
“No, we don’t,” he grunts with the intrusion. “This isn’t a regular thing.”
I grit my teeth at his words and punish his asshole instead, slamming into him forcefully. “Don’t talk shit,” I grunt and my eyes roll back into my head when he squeezes around me, “it’s already a regular thing.”
“You’re fucking married,” he retorts but it loses its fire when he moans.
I am married, there’s nothing I can say to defend my actions, and I won’t disrespect him by trying. If I tell him I’m married in name only, or that I have never fucked my wife, it’ll all sound like lies, and I don’t want to explain my situation. I’d rather he just thinks the worst of me, it’s not like my marital status is changing at any point, and I won’t lie.
“Come for me.” I tell him and I continue to thrust into him, “come.”
He begins to jack himself off onto the bed and I squeeze my eyes shut to try and hold off, but it’s no use. I watch as stars burst behind my eyelids and my mouth drops in a silent scream, my cum shooting inside Dixon. His groan follows right after and I keep myself seated inside of him as he comes undone.
His body is shaking with the release and my cock is still pulsing inside of him. I pull out and stand up slowly, pulling my pants up. I grab my gun and tuck it away again, biting my lip when I watch Dixon stand up. He pulls up his pants and turns to face me, his eyes a mixture of confusion and despair. I don’t think as I grab him around the neck and drag him to me, wrapping my arms around him.
He sobs into my neck as I hold him tight, I don’t know what to say to help him, but I do know how to comfort.
Dixon
“This is potent, North.” Jameson says as he hands me five syringes filled with a clear liquid. “You need to inject it into your knee about fifteen minutes before you want relief.”
I nod and look up, finding Sebastian leaning against the lockers across from us. He looks pissed but he’ll have to get over it.
“Let me know if you want more.” Jameson squeezes my shoulder.
“Thanks, man.” I watch him head out to the field.
Sebastian’s eyes follow him until he disappears and then he looks at me with anger.
“What?” I ask him.
“I don’t want him touching you,” he growls and I look at him with shock.
“You’re seriously fucked up.” I shake my head.
“When you want more of that,” he points to the syringes in my hands, “you ask me.” Then he pushes off the lockers and heads out to the field. He’s being ridiculous with the jealousy bit considering the fuck is still married. We have our game against the Patriots in a few days and I want to get onto that field to practice today.
I take the top off the syringe and slowly insert it on the outer side of my kneecap, making sure to get underneath. When I depress the plunger, the cold liquid spreads inside, and I can feel it seeping through my knee. I wait ten minutes and the throbbing has already lessened to a dull ache. I stand up and put all my weight on it, it hurts but only a fraction of what it was before. I can work with this. I put the other syringes away in my bag and lock my locker, then jog out to the field. I feel rejuvenated and my knee has never felt better.
I tap Coach on the shoulder and he looks at me closely, “what’s up North?”
“I’m ready to go in.”
“You sure?” he looks down to my knee. “Are you feeling up to it?”
“Never better,” I smirk and he nods.
“Zeal, North is in.” He calls out and Zeal hoots with excitement.
Four hours later and my knee feels like it’s been put through a grinder. The pain has intensified and my thigh is now swollen as well. I long for the sauna but I know the heat won’t be good for the swelling. I throw on my clothes and skip the shower, I’d rather take it at home where no one can see the damage. I try not to limp as I leave the locker room and as I step out into the hallway, I come face to face with Dani.
She opens her mouth to talk but I hold up my hand, “not now.”
I try to move around her but she grabs my arm, her eyes boring into mine, “I am so sorry.”
“Forgiven.” I shrug her off and continue my way out of the stadium.
“That’s it?” she calls and I turn to look at her, “everything is fine?”
“You and I were over long before that,” I shrug and turn my back on her again, “good luck Dani.”
I don’t bother to wait and hear her reaction because my knee feels like it’s three times it’s actual size. All in all, it was worth it, I couldn’t sit on that bench another practice and I need to be in for the game this weekend. There was no other option. After this game, I’ll take some time off and let it heal.
I hop into the car and hiss when the pain radiates into my groin. It just needs ice and some rest. When I get home, I see Ma’s car in the driveway and my heart sinks into my stomach. It’s been four days since she left and I have no idea where she went. I was worried she’d never come back and seeing her car means we’ll have to talk about what happened.
I get out, wincing when the pain becomes worse, and limp to my front door. It opens before I can get up the steps and Ma rushes forward to grab my arm.
“What have you done, son?” She sounds worried and I hate that I’m causing her more.
“Just a rough practice, the doctor said it would act up as it healed.” I lie. “When did you get back?” I ask as we step inside and close the door.
“I shouldn’t have left Dixon, but I’m so far away from Danny, and I just needed to see him.”
“You’ve been gone for days, where did you stay?” I ask her as I make my way to the kitchen to grab my ice pack.
“With one of the ladies from work,” she answers, looking nervous.
“Okay, Ma.” I nod and walk by her to go to my room. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me too.” She whispers behind me but I don’t look back.
