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Chapter Sixteen
Colt is sitting up in bed staring at the ink on his arm. The skin around the ink is angry and red. Having slept in past noon again, he awoke to find a bandage on the inside of his forearm. After removing the bandage, he’d found the name ‘Fiarri’ tattooed on his skin in an elegant script.
What the hell?
His memories of last night are somewhat scattered. He vaguely remembers someone writing on him. He remembers Netflix and being unable to pick anything to watch. He remembers whiskey and pot and Marc’s kisses.
But a tattoo?
“Hey.” Marc enters the room with a tray of food. “Breakfast in bed? Sit back against the pillows.”
Colt furiously shows Marc his arm.
“Sit back, baby.” Marc says again.
“Marc. A tattoo?” Colt asks. “That’s permanent.”
“We’re permanent.”
Colt is so damn frustrated. He doesn’t know how to argue with Marc. He doesn’t know how to reason with the illogical. And Marc just stands there, looking as innocent as Marc Fiarri ever does, waiting him out.
Sighing, Colt sits back against the pillows and the headboard. Marc rests the tray across Colt’s lap. On the plate is bacon, eggs and a bagel. There’s a glass of orange juice as well.
Marc grabs something from his nightstand and climbs onto the bed with him. He takes Colt’s arm and starts to smooth some kind of lotion over the tattoo. “You like it?”
“I got this last night?” Colt says, trying to stay calm. He woke up with a tattoo of Marc’s last name prominently displayed on his forearm. He feels branded. “I don’t remember… a tattoo.”
“Yeah. Jacob came over and did it for you.” Marc answers. “You liked it last night, Vanilla.”
“I did?”
“Yeah. You kept staring at it and smiling.”
Try as he might, Colt can’t remember anything more than the abstract version of what happened last night. He keeps trying to put pieces together, but a lot of the night is just… missing.
“I think I was way too… everything last night.”
“No such animal. Plus, I get another one of your firsts… first tattoo.” Marc says, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Eat. I’ve gotta go get some shit done.”
Colt looks down at the tray. This is the first time Marc has made any food for him. This is the first time in his life that anyone has made him breakfast, much less breakfast in bed. “You made me breakfast.”
“Nevermind that it’s past noon, but yeah… breakfast.” Colt looks amused by him. “Just eat it and I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”
“Thank you.” Colt says, surprised enough by the gesture to feel himself calming down. “Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.”
Marc grabs his chin and turns him so that he can kiss him soundly on the lips. “Love you, Vanilla.”
Colt stares after Marc and listens to the sounds of him leaving. He looks down at his arm, Marc’s last name tattooed there. Did he really agree to this? Colt can’t remember. He’s never lost time like this before and it worries him that he has now. It worries him a lot.
His fingertips trace the elegant script and he whispers the name into the room. Now, more than ever, he feels like he belongs to Marc, like they’re as permanent as the ink seeped into his skin. Maybe he did like the tattoo last night. Maybe it’ll grow on him with time.
**
It takes most of the day for Colt to feel like he’s kicked off the aftereffects of last night. Colt is starting to think about making dinner for Marc when there’s a knock at the door. Colt answers it and finds Jacob there along with another man from that night at Amnesia.
“Hey, istanbul travesti Colt.” Jacob says. “Marco needs to come with us.”
“He does? He didn’t text or call me.” Colt looks back into the house for his phone.
Jacob touches his arm and starts guiding him out of the house. “We don’t have time. You have to come with us.”
“I don’t even have shoes on.” Colt says, turning back to the house. “Just let me…”
“No time.”
The grip on his arm is tighter this time, steering him toward a car. He’s put in the back of it and they’re quickly on the road. Colt is in his cutoff sweats, a tank top and… nothing else. This adds a sense of urgency to the moment.
Colt starts to think the worst as a nervous pit forms in his stomach. “Is Marc okay? Is he hurt? Did something happen?”
“Marco is fine. How’s your arm?” Jacob asks.
That’s right. Jacob gave him the tattoo. “It’s fine. I hear I liked it last night.”
Jacob smirks. “Yeah you probably don’t remember much about it, do you? You liked it just fine, laughed most of the way through it. Then you couldn’t quit looking at it.”
Colt doesn’t remember that at all. Again, he feels a strange anxiety over that fact. He tries to push that to the back burner of his mind.
“Where are we going? Why did Marc send you to get me?” He wonders if Marc is in trouble, if Marc got wind of trouble for Colt. Maybe something happened with whoever stole the bag from their house.
“We were just told to come get you. Don’t worry, Colt. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Jacob seems uncomfortable for a moment, shifting in his seat. “I’m just following orders. Grunt work, you know?”
“For Marc?” Colt asks.
“Mostly Rodrigo.”
How often has Marc dismissed his questions about the Fiarri business? Colt gets the feeling that all of them don’t think it’s his place to ask questions. He looks through the windows and tries to figure out where they’re going.
They end up at some warehouses on the docks. The car pulls into one of the warehouses and parks. Colt’s stomach flip-flops when he see Rodrigo and several other men there. Jacob comes around to let Colt out of the car. He feels very minimally dressed compared to everyone else.
His bare feet pad over concrete, following Jacob toward Rodrigo. He’s looking over the men, looking for Marc. Marc isn’t here.
“Colt.” Rodrigo says, getting Colt’s attention. “Thank you for joining us.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice. Where’s Marc? Is he okay?”
Jacob guides Colt closer to Rodrigo. The older man looks Colt down to his feet and back up. “Marco will be joining us soon. Ah. There he is.”
Colt turns to see Marc’s blue sports car pull into the hanger. Marc and Sebastian get out of the car. There’s fire in Marc’s eyes as he looks between Colt and his uncle while he approaches. “What are you doing with him?”
“They said you wanted me here.” Colt says and has a terrible, sinking feeling when Marc shakes his head at that.
“Marco, you have been distracted as of late.” Rodrigo says. “You lost my product and you have done little to redeem yourself. This is the root of that problem.”
Colt realizes that Rodrigo is talking about him. He’s the root of Marc’s distraction.
“Uncle I’m working on it. I told you I’m gonna fix it. I told you!”
“And yet… time has passed, too much time and not a single move. You are my nephew. You are my favorite. But I will not allow you to slip by without correcting your mistakes.” Rodrigo continues. “How to punish you, I wondered? What is your istanbul travestileri weakness?”
Colt remembers when Rodrigo had called him Marc’s weakness. That sinking feeling sinks even further.
“Uncle Rodrigo… he’s mine.”
“He was yours. Now he is mine.” Rodrigo counters, tone all sharp edges and barely contained anger. “He could be yours again once you right your wrongs to my satisfaction. In the meantime,-“
“Are you kidding me?” Colt murmurs quietly, and then louder. “I’m right here.”
Marc snaps at him. “Shut up, Colt.”
“You’re both talking about me like I’m not here. I’m standing right here, Marc.”
“Shut. Up.”
This time there’s a bite to the words that makes Marc almost as scary as Rodrigo. Colt stares at him, mouth closed.
“In the meantime,” Rodrigo continues, “he’s mine to do with as I please, until I feel that you have righted your wrongs.”
Marc turns to his uncle. “No. You can’t. He hasn’t been… We haven’t… He’s mine.”
Colt feels all the blood drain from his face as Rodrigo cants his head back and laughs. “You haven’t tapped that virgin ass, Marco? Why ever not?”
“I was waiting for him to be ready… he isn’t…”
“If you want to be his first, I suggest you get to it, nephew.”
Colt doesn’t hear anything for a few seconds, the world turning into an underwater cavern where he’s here, but unable to participate. There’s still conversation happening, a back and forth between Marc and his uncle. He doesn’t even realize it when he turns and starts walking out of the warehouse. It isn’t really a conscious decision. It’s just something that happens. He wants to exit this, whatever it is.
Two of Rodrigo’s men grab either arm and haul him back, holding him in place. He looks to Jacob and over to Sebastian, both of them looking as stunned as he is at the turn of events. Then he looks to Marc, who is all fire and anger right now. Marc wears his emotions on his sleeve.
His mind finally snaps back into the moment.
“…can’t believe you!” Marc is shouting angrily, shaking his head at his uncle.
“It’s your choice, Marco. Have him first now, or have him used later.”
Colt is watching Marc and when the other man looks at him, Colt shakes his head and mouths the word ‘no’. They stare at each other for a long moment before Marc seems to steel himself and make a decision. It’s a horrible decision.
“No. No, Marc. Marc, no. Don’t do this!” He’s being pulled backward. “You love me, remember? You said you love me. If you love me, you won’t do this.”
Colt is turned and pushed down by his shoulders so that he’s folded in half over the hood of Marc’s car. He struggles and kicks, trying to get back upright again. The men holding him down are strong. Still, he struggles until a third man holds him down so that his top half is completely immobile.
He feels his sweat shorts pulled down to bare his ass and Colt goes very still, the humiliation of all these men in the warehouse seeing him like this paralyzing him. He feels his ass cheeks spread and a tongue licking back there and Colt wants to melt into the hood of this car and disappear. He feels a press against his tight hole and he renews his attempt to get free.
“Marc, please. Please, no. I’m not ready. No, Marc, please no.” He struggles. “Marc! Listen to me!”
A finger is pushed up inside of him and Colt goes still again as the finger is pumped and the tongue continues to add wet lubricant. It hurts. It feels wrong. It feels like he’s being stretched uncomfortably travesti istanbul wide as Marc does whatever he’s doing back there.
Then Marc is standing up behind him and Colt hears the unzipping of jeans.
“Please, Marc.” His voice sounds small now, quiet and helpless and he hates it. “Please.”
“He’s begging for it, Marco.” Rodrigo’s voice says. “Do it.”
No. No. Colt hadn’t been begging for it. He was begging for it to stop.
His scream echoes in the warehouse as Marc begins to shove his cock inside of him. It feels like he’s being ripped open. It feels like he wants to die as Marc pumps his hips and Colt is filled deeper and deeper.
He knows all too well how big Marc is. How in the hell is Marc fitting inside of him?
Just when he thinks he can’t be filled anymore, Marc is pushing again. Colt is almost relieved to feel Marc’s legs flush against his own if just because that means he can’t fill him up any more than he has. He can’t tear at his insides any more than he has.
“Don’t move. Don’t move.” Colt whispers. “Please, don’t move.”
Marc’s hand pets at the small of Colt’s back for a few seconds. Colt thinks about being in their bed when Marc would do the same thing, just trace small circles there. It felt good then. Now he isn’t sure how anything feels.
There’s pain. There’s a lot of pain.
When Marc begins to pull out, Colt emits a whining sound that he isn’t sure is really coming from him. Then Marc is pushing back into him. It burns. It feels like sandpaper scuffing up his insides. As Marc does this again and again, the slide of his cock gets smoother. It becomes easier to take. It starts to feel…
No. This isn’t good. There’s nothing about this that’s good.
Everyone is watching this. Every man in this warehouse is watching this.
The blue paint on the hood of Marc’s sports car has a glitter effect to it that Colt has never noticed before. He’s intent on studying it now, getting lost in how clean the car is, in how shiny it is, lost in the individual specs of lighter blue and silver that make the car shine the way it does. He imagines he’s smaller, the specs bigger. He imagines hiding in the blue paint. He imagines being the blue paint.
Colt feels it when Marc cums inside of him. He feels it when Marc pulls out, the emptiness of it as Marc’s spill slides out of him and down his thighs. He feels his own arousal and is embarrassed by it.
Marc lifts Colt’s shorts back into place and Colt is thankful for that. The pressure holding him down to the hood of the car is released and Colt starts to push himself up. Marc helps him stand up and then wraps him up in a tight embrace. Colt numbly lets Marc hold onto him.
“I love you, Colt. I did this because I love you and you’re mine. There’s no world where he gets to have you first. And I know him. I know what he’s gonna do. I’ll fix this, alright? I’ll fix this and he’ll pay. You hear me? He’s gonna pay.”
The words are whispered into his ear and while Colt hears them, he doesn’t listen. He’s too stunned at what just happened to him.
Marc pulls back from him and takes Colt’s face in his hands. He kisses him. Colt doesn’t kiss him back.
“Bring him here.” There are hands on Colt’s arms again, taking him away from Marc and closer to Rodrigo.
Colt watches Marc and the words the other man had said start to sink in. Marc thinks Rodrigo is going to do something to him. “Take me with you. Marc, take me with you. Don’t let him… Marc, take me with you.”
“Be brave, Colt.” Marc says as Sebastian steps up behind him and puts a hand on his best friend’s shoulder.
Colt is shoved into the backseat of the car Rodrigo is standing alongside. “You can have him back when I’m satisfied that you’ve fixed your mistake and learned your lesson, Marco.”