Page 12 of Back Where He Belongs

CHAPTER SEVEN

TRUNK

Kier lay in bed focusing on the eerie creaking and tapping sounds around the cottage as the wind howled outside. He was pleasantly drunk and snugly warm under a thick duvet and extra blankets, but Kier couldn’t settle. It had been a long, intense day. In the darkness, the feelings he’d suppressed for so long could not be held back any longer. Old memories were excavated and laid out for him to reconsider with new eyes.

He’d found himself in the most unexpected of places, with the one man who knew him better than he knew himself sleeping in the next room. Fear and doubt clutched at his gut warring with lust, love, and longing.

Dougie looked so damn sexy, and even more attractive than when he was younger. Age suited him, as did the dark beard that framed his jaw. The warmth in Kier’s gut told him he was where he was meant to be, but his stubborn head told him determinedly that this stop-over was just a happy accident, and when the weather settled he would go to his family farm, have his vacation with them and then return to Australia. Nothing’s changed, nothing will change. But even as he thought those thoughts Kier knew he was lying to himself.

The fact the Dougie slept in the next room pricked at Kier like pins. The fierce hug they shared before they both turned-in hadn’t been enough. Closeness tugged all the threads that bound his heart to Douglas—reminding him of the years they’d shared—from childhood innocence to the sexual awakening of inquisitive teens, then to the discovery that they loved one another. They’d had the kind of intense bond that Kier couldn’t explain. It was primal and intuitive. Douglas had been Kier’s private universe, and the long-denied memories made his heart ache.

Douglas’s wish to come out when they’d finished uni and live openly as a couple had been too much for Kier to cope with back then. Fear, self-doubt, and restlessness pulled him from his lover's arms. Leaving was the only solution he could think of, but the most cutting feeling that surfaced from the long-repressed memories was one of shame. Kier was desperately ashamed of his behavior.

Kier’s thoughts drifted back to the trunk in the lounge. He was sure that the contents held too many painful memories for Dougie and he’d have cleared it out. It was probably full of books. But now the house was silent. Dougie was in bed, and Mac was curled up in his doggie bed in his master’s bedroom. Kier lay there listening to the storm rattle the windows for a few minutes longer before curiosity got the better of him. He rose and left the bedroom.

He tried to step quietly, so as not to rouse Dougie, but the floorboards of the old cottage had other ideas and creaked alarmingly with his every step.

Kier made his way downstairs and stepped into the lounge. The room was warm, but the wind still found entrance through nooks and crannies of the old cottage, sending a chill to Kier’s bones. The ebbing light from the fire made the lounge appear intimate and cozy, and the warmth it still threw out was welcome. Kier moved to the fireplace, removed the fireguard, and tossed another briquette of peat on to give himself some well-needed heat on this icy Christmas dawn.

He went to the couch, sat heavily, and stared ominously at the trunk—the lock still broken, as it had been when he’d bought it from a car boot sale all those years ago. He leaned in and ran his hand across the green stained timber, then prized the lid open. It creaked loudly, the sound echoing in the empty room.

Initially, all Kier saw was a blue and white Shetland Wool throw blanket. Had Dougie just been using the trunk as a blanket box? He lifted the blanket out of the box and wrapped it around his shoulders. The blanket smelled of Dougie and as he drew it close that fact made Kier’s heart happy. In the muted light from the fire, the interior of the trunk appeared deep and dark. Kier bent and looked inside, and then let out a snicker. There it all was. Dougie hadn’t disposed of it after all.

It felt like yesterday that they’d excitedly taken delivery of their bespoke leather pup hoods. Kier reached into the trunk that still contained the leather hoods, harnesses, restraints and toys they used to play with. He retrieved the hood that belonged to Pup Freckle. Kier ran his fingers over the black and red leather Howler muzzle, marveling at the exquisite workmanship. This hood had perky ears, and changeable tongue insert. Pup Dougie’s hood had floppy ears, much like Mac’s, and a white patch around the left eye. Kier fondly recalled that Dougie had been so excited to wear his hood that very first time and role play at being Freckle’s pup sub.

Their role play was an escape, a chance to let go and feel free. Kier recalled the pleasure and satisfaction he felt when Dougie put his pup hood on and looked up at him that very first time with wide, soulful blue eyes, seeking direction from his handler. When their eyes met, Kier’s world centered and all of the stresses of the real world melted away.

Dougie became so playful, tractable, submissive, and expressively affectionate. For Douglas, learning to let go, reacting to the world and just playing as a pup helped change him from an anxious, nerdy eighteen-year-old to a young man who felt confident in his own skin at last, with Freckle as his Alpha Pup.

The play was mutually beneficial. When Kier felt weighed down or out of control in his everyday life, he’d known he could go to Dougie, and find a safe space where they could pup-out. They’d used a barn on the outskirts of Dougie’s parents’ farm where they’d played freely, snuggled, and then fucked in the hayloft.

Did Kier deserve a second chance when he’d abused the deep trust Dougie had placed in him? The attraction was there—the need to shut out the world and play like they used to remained strong, but it was a fantasy. Douglas would never trust him again.

In their time apart Kier had changed, grown more introvert and colder. Dougie had changed too—he was in control of his life, brawnier and dominant. He didn’t have to, but Douglas had welcomed Kier into his home, fed him, and kept him warm. Kier had no idea what he could offer Douglas to apologize for abusing his trust and leaving him behind. He needed to find a way to thank him for saving him from freezing to death on the Highland road.

“Freckle?”

Kier startled at hearing his name. He turned to see Douglas standing at the bottom of the stairs in that adorable Santa onesie, his dark curly hair wild and unkempt. Kier was so lost in caressing the pup hood and raking through his memories, that he hadn’t heard even his footsteps on the creaky stairs, but seeing Douglas unleashed a roaring fire in his belly.

“Can ye no’ sleep?” Douglas asked. Kier shook his head solemnly. Douglas stepped closer, and his eyes grew wide at seeing what Kier held.

“Aww, Jesus. I havenae seen that fer years.” He affectionately exclaimed as he slumped down on the couch beside his ex-boyfriend.

“Did ye no’ use them with… whasisname?”

“Rob. Gods no. It wasn’t the same with Rob.” Douglas admitted.

“Is that good or bad?”

“Well, for him it was bad. He said I never connected with him when we were fuckin’. He said that sometimes it was like I wasnae there,” Dougie shared candidly.

“Was he right?”

“Me’be, me’be not.” Douglas shrugged absently then reached out and ran his fingertips over the muzzle of the pup hood. The action made Kier’s heart clench and his belly roil with longing. They sat silently, Dougie’s fingers exploring the hood, his gaze firmly locked on Kier’s hazel eyes. Their breaths grew ragged, and then Dougie’s warm, calloused fingers ghosted over Kiers. Kier’s heart erupted with need. The feeling was so strong, so primal that it took every ounce of his strength not to push Douglas roughly down on the couch and mount him.

“Y’know, you scared me,” Douglas admitted.

The admission perplexed Kier. “How? Why the hell would ye be scared of me?”

“Because what I want to do goes against everything I’ve told myself since you walked away. I told meself I’d never see ye again, but if I did, I was damn sure what I’d do—I’d punch yer lights out.” Douglas admitted passionately.

“That’s what I thought. It’s all that I deserve. G’wan, if it makes you feel better, land one, right here,” Kier said, pointing to his freckled left cheek. He sat back, clutched the pup hood, and waited for the punch.

Dougie watched Kier intently for a moment longer and then huffed, “Shite, just close yer eyes. I cannae do it with you lookin’ at me like that.”

Kier snickered and closed his eyes. Time passed as Dougie’s gaze mapped Kier’s face, his scraggly red beard, and shaggy shoulder length auburn hair. Douglas gritted his teeth, then lurched—and planted a kiss on Kier’s cheek, and followed up swiftly with another on his mouth. Kier let out a surprised laugh, and he dropped the pup hood. The rasp of Dougie’s mustache against his lips tickled delightfully, and Kier’s large hands moved to clasp Dougie’s bearded face.

“Gods, I’ve missed you so much,” he sobbed and then dragged Douglas on top of him and into a passionate kiss.

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