‘What Beau doesn’t know can’t kill him’. I think that must be Duncan’s official motto or something. He’s forever hiding things from me, keeping me out of the loop. I mean, sure, some things I don’t need to know about – the six-week old moldy sandwich he had in his book bag I could have done without knowing, for sure.
And then there are some things I just need to know about. The delightful peppering of cuts and bruises and abrasions on his ass? Yeah, I would have liked to hear about this before it got infected. Like maybe when it happened.
…
“BEAU! I’M GOING OUT!” he screeched from downstairs. Beau was at the top of the landing in seconds, a basket of laundry under his arm.
“Where to?” he demanded as Duncan tugged his leather jacket on and grabbed his helmet. He looked up with a winning grin, chewing his lip. “Out Beau,” he informed him as his older lover descended the stairs to meet him. He allowed himself to be turned back around for a kiss.
“Biking?” Beau assumed, pointing at the helmet. Duncan grinned. “Yeah. Ryder got a new bike and he and Shy want me to come test it out with them. I’ll be back later, okay? Like after supper later.”
Beau kissed his jaw. “No later than eight, mister. I mean it.”
Duncan laughed as Beau righted his jacket. “Be careful,” his lover warned and Duncan nodded obediently before he fled for the garage to get his own bike.
Beau continued on his way to the laundry room.
…
Really, if Beau knew half the stuff I did, he’d have a heart attack and die on the spot. Like I always say, what he don’t know won’t kill him. It’s actually better for him, really. I’m doing him a service by not telling him half the things he thinks he should know.
Shy and Ryder are some of my oldest friends. Shy’s like me; he’s got a partner who disciplines him all the time except Shy’s partner, Aaron, is super easy-going and fun and doesn’t worry like a mother hen when Shy goes out biking. But other than that, Shy and me are very different people – he’s quiet and introverted and he likes being alone most of the time. He hates tattoos and piercings and lots of shit disgusts him.
Ryder on the other hand is more my kind of guy. He’s a freeloader, living off whoever’ll keep him at the time. Now he’s with Shy and Aaron, though he stuck with me and Beau for a while until Beau got sick of him and me always making noise and staying out late. He sort of man-hops, job-hops, home-hops. He basically just hops around a lot, never stays one place for long and the only thing you can keep him occupied with for any length of time is his bike.
Anyways, Shy and Ryder are my best friends. And when Ryder called to say he had a new bike – something he hasn’t had in /years/ - we were /obviously/ willing to drop everything and run to test her out with him.
We drove my truck truck to one of our favourite biking haunts and went to work. Shiloh and I lapped a bit on our bikes, basically just to get the feel of how different it would be to be on a new bike after. Shiloh showed off some of his tricks and I pulled a couple of my own until Ryder called us back and told us he was finally ready to test her.
I leaned on my bike as Shiloh helped Ryder into his helmet. Ryder laughed giddily as he started his bike, revving her and feeling her underneath him before I patted his ass teasingly and he streaked off, kicking up dust in his wake. I jumped and pumped the air with my fist, watching him go. Shit, he was fast. Shiloh didn’t hesitate to follow him up the track and it took me a moment longer before I started my bike up and went after them.
We rode on our respective bikes until Shiloh begged a chance to try Ryder’s bike. We stopped and traded bikes and then took off again. Shy and me stood after a while, straddling our bikes, and watched Ryder tearing up the track on his new bike when Shiloh had given it back. When he returned, skidding to a halt in front of us, Shy urged me to take a turn and I donned my helmet, trading bikes with Ryder.
The bike was amazing. She rode well; she had great traction. I molded to her like I was meant to be there. As I rode up the track, half-showing off, Ryder screamed for me to do a trick and I could only oblige. I went up over one of the makeshift jumps we had set up and did a total Evil Knievel – I flew over the jump, holding the handlebar as my legs went out behind me.
I think I laughed as I pretty much shit my pants coming down out of that jump – the bike hit the dirt hard and twisted out of my grasp, flying out from under me. My leg got caught on the wheel and I was dragged some twenty feet before the bike crashed to a halt against another jump and I slammed my head into the wood. Thank God I was wearing my helmet. As it was, I ended up blacking out, pinned under the bike, wheels still spinning.
I woke to Shy shaking me and Ryder pacing, cursing. The bike was somewhere off to the side and I felt groggy and disoriented as I sat up. Shy practically lunged into my arms and clung and I coughed, hugging him back. Ryder cursed my life to the four corners of the world and then laughed hysterically as he dropped to hug me too.
“Fucking little shit, I thought you were dead! You idiot!” he wailed and hauled me to my feet. I swayed and pushed into his embrace for support and he hugged me harder, lifting me off my feet.
“God, you okay? You fucking maniac, you shoulda seen that shit! You flew off that goddamn thing!”
Shy nodded and motioned to the bike – which wasn’t in as bad shape as I thought it probably should be. It was awfully scratched and one of the handles was bent a bit but it was otherwise okay. “It still works,” Shy said, and Ryder added: “you certainly fucking christened her, bud,” and laughed.
I nodded, moving away to tug my helmet off my head and shake out the cobwebs in my head. I was covered in dirt and gravel and my right leg and my ass stung terribly but I was fairly sure nothing was broken. Shy made a little motion to my leg; I looked down and groaned. My pant leg was destroyed and blood was staining it. Ryder laughed as he wandered around behind me and cursed at my ass – which was in worse shape than my leg.
“Guess we should see a doctor, huh?” he said, grinning vividly. I conceded while they brought our bikes back to the truck and I followed a little more subdued, the shock wearing off rather quickly until every step was painful and caused me to take sharp little breaths. I stretched out in the bed of the truck with the bikes; my ass was too sore to sit on it.
Aaron met us at the hospital, giving Shiloh reassuring kisses as he helped me inside and waited to take me home after. He even brought me a pair of his pants to change into, the sweetheart. He didn’t call Beau after I promised I would tell him as soon as I got home. Aaron believed me – the sucker – and took me home when I was finished being checked over. Nothing was broken, I was cleaned and bandaged and ordered to clean and change them daily until it began to scab over.
Aaron dropped me off out front and put my bike in the garage for me. It was past seven-thirty and I thanked God I wasn’t late – I really couldn’t afford to have Beau know now that I was hurt.
I thanked Aaron and hugged Shy and Ryder before I dragged myself inside to find my lover, wanting supper and bed and the comfort of his arms.
…
Beau met him at the door, waving at Aaron as the other man pulled out of the driveway. “Didn’t think Aaron was going too,” he said, kissing Duncan’s nose. “Should have told me, kiddo, and I would have gone.”
Duncan snuggled into his arms, shrugging. “He only drove me home, Beau. Didn’t come with us.”
Beau nodded, murmuring a quiet ‘ah’ as he led Duncan into the kitchen to eat dinner. Duncan carefully sat, the bandages and the painkillers blocking out most of the pain. Beau plated food for him and pushed his hair back into a ponytail, kissing his dirty forehead. “Maybe you should bath after this,” he suggested but Duncan shook his head.
“I’m gonna sleep. I’m pretty worn out, Beau.” The older man tidied up as his lover ate and he didn’t protest as the younger man retreated to bed after he had finished eating. He joined him there shortly after and snuggled him close.
…
The next few days, Duncan kept to himself. He showered when Beau had left for work, checking himself over in the mirror in the bathroom with a frown. His leg from his knee up to his hip and the whole of his ass were bruised, speckled with cuts and abrasions and extremely sore to the touch. He tried not to sit when he could help it and when he had to it was an awkward squat where he put most of his weight on his left hip.
Beau didn’t seem to notice how stiff he moved or that he refused sex daily. He wouldn’t undress in front of his lover and he refused to use the bathroom if Beau was nearby.
But his reign of secrecy came to an end when Beau caught him smoking with Ryder in the backyard a few days later – to take the edge of pain off. Ryder was dismissed and Duncan was hauled into the house and up to the office, protesting the whole way as Beau swatted his backside.
Duncan was in real tears by the time they were halfway up the stairs. Beau released him at the landing and Duncan sank to his knees, sobbing hard, fingers trying to grip the carpet.
“Holy fuuck, holy shit, don’t touch me, don’t touch me,” he wailed, trying to catch his breath and push the pain down. Beau's brow furrowed and he lifted Duncan, squirming, off the carpet.
“What is the matter with you?” he demanded and Duncan hicupped and fled to their bed where Beah followed. Duncan wailed ‘bum!’ and Beau helped him out of the pants, revealing his very red, very infected backside with a gasp.
“Oh Duncan! Oh my God, my baby,” he hissed, laying a hand on the man’s back. Duncan hicupped miserably and sobbed into his pillow. “My butt, my butt, my butt,” he whimpered. Beau nodded and slipped away to get disinfectant and ointment as well as bandages, working Duncan’s pants down all the way and making quick work of applying the ointment and disinfectant. Duncan hissed in pain and squirmed but he let Beau fix him up and bandage him before he squirmed into his lover’s arms and sobbed.
Beau rocked him carefully, apologetically, keeping him supported as his lover cried himself out. Eventually he wrung the story out of him and Duncan simply collapsed in his arms, satisfied that Beau wouldn’t spank him now with his ass in such a sorry state.
He was right, of course, but that didn’t mean he was going to go punishment-less. The Top devised a wicked set of punishments instead – an essay on the importance of telling him when he was hurt or sick and lines to match stating that he would always be careful when riding his bike. To top it all off, he was grounded from seeing Shiloh and Ryder for a week and from riding his bike for two weeks.
A spanking, even with his ass in the state it was in, would have still been easier, Duncan felt. He even said as much, protesting sadly, until Beau rolled him underneath him and his butt touched the sheets and he wailed and pushed back until he was once more on top of his lover.
Maybe not.
And maybe, just maybe, this was one of those things that were best to tell your lover about when they happened.
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