bamboo doesn't grow in dark spaces. [80K Words / Complete]

chapter twenty-eight. ❤️

Wind howled down the ventilation shaft, a ghost crying from the frozen overworld. The space heater clicked and popped, its metal element contracting with heat. Snow was falling outside; Case knew because white flakes were still fresh in Sir's hair when he arrived. Sir had mentioned the storm was good timing, that it lined up with his four days of off-time. Case couldn't tell if the comment had been a slip, or intentional.

Four whole days with Sir. No beeper. No breaks. A plastic baggy stuck out of Sir's jeans pocket. Coke and Blue Pills. That's what he had in store for their uninterrupted time together. Case stared into space, staring without seeing. Trying to decide if the days ahead were daunting or a comfort.

Sir idly stroked his fingertips along Case's arm. Shivers and goosebumps prickled his skin—and not because of the chill in the air.

Well, came the voice, at least you won't be cold or alone.

Case chewed his thumb, the cuticle scabby and raw.

A week or so after the Sophie incident, Case had opened the dumbwaiter and found a new book waiting for him: a teenage girl on the cover, the title A Great and Terrible Beauty in large print across her white, laced corset. A romance novel. A peace offering. A sign all was forgiven, all was forgotten. Case had smiled to himself, thinking for a moment that he could move past the fight. Thinking that he really was Sir's favorite.

Until he'd opened the front cover. And discovered the title page was already torn out.

Blood landed on Case's tongue, his thumb stinging-throbbing. Sir must have loved Sophie. Only love could drive someone to rage and destruction.

"My ex destroyed a bunch of my stuff, once."

"Really?" The bedsprings creaked and wobbled beneath his shifting weight. He wrapped his arm around Case's midsection, dragging him deeper into the curve of the spoon. "And why did she do that? Were you a bad boy?" he purred teasingly into Case's ear.

Fragments of the party popped into his head: the darkness of the sky, the black silhouette of a car, the sour taste of raspberry vodka. His mouth went dry.

"Oh," Sir tittered with realization. "Was she a little hurt when you broke up with her?"

"I didn't break up with her."

"No? Oh—so, she dumped you. Now that stings . . . And why did she do that?" he asked, taking on a snakishly feminine voice as he followed with, "Did she feed you the ol' it's not you, it's me. I've changed, but I still care about you. We can still be friends?"

"She cheated on me."

The power dipped, the basement light dimming and flickering. Sir went still behind Case.

"What?"

Emotion clenched inside Case's throat. He bit the inside of his cheek, fighting against the sudden tremble in his lip. Stop it, he told himself. He had enough self-control to keep it together.

But then the voice reared from the shadows. Held the party—the video of him and the freshman girl—up to him, daring him to look. C'mon, Casey, the voice jeered. Push a little further. Dive a little deeper into the dark. Let it hurt.

"She cheated on me," he repeated, then burst into tears.

"Hey . . . hey . . ." Sir gently rolled Case over to face him, pulling him into an embrace and stroking his hair. "Shhh . . . it's alright."

Case sobbed against Sir's chest, inconsolable. It's not alright, he wanted to say but couldn't, drowned out by howling tears. He'd told her he'd had a girlfriend, that he was drunk. He'd pushed her away after that first kiss. If he'd never gone to that stupid party, he'd have never ended up in this fucking basement. It's not alright. I'm not okay.

"Women are wicked little creatures. That girl didn't love you. She used you up, and threw you away when she was done."

The rush of tears began to slow, his breathing easing with a shudder. He sniffled, his face hot, runny and wet. He'd calmed down, but Sir wasn't letting him go.

"Sometimes, people get so caught up in what they want, what they think they need to feel safe and in control, that they don't even see who they're using and hurting to get it. People like that don't know how to love anything but themselves."

"Do you love me?"

Silence.

Silence that lasted for so long, it was sobering.

Case gave a wet, pitiful laugh. "Right. Of course, you don't," he muttered, wiping his nose against the back of his hand. "Nobody loves me. No-one's ever going to love me."

"Hey!" Sir cupped Case's face in his hands, guiding him into sea-green eyes. "Do you have any idea how special you are? The moment I saw you, that little skater-boy profile on that forum, I thought who is this? Who is this boy whose soul is calling to me through the computer screen? I knew if I didn't meet you, that you'd haunt me forever. That's why I chose you."

A gust of wind rattled the air vents.

Case's heartbeat hammered against his chest. "I thought you said this was random?"

"I lied."

The power went out. Everything went dark. The only light source in the basement now coming from the space heater, it's mesh face an orange-red glow.

Sir guided Case onto his back, looming over him. The red glow from the space heater lights the side of Sir's face, casting him in fire like a demon from Hell.

"Casey . . . you are so special," he said in a low whisper. His knee pried Case's legs open. "Whatever's happening between us . . . it's never happened before, and I can't explain it."

The lube had gone dry, but Sir was lining himself up against Case.

The blizzard gave an anguished cry.

Case winced as Sir pushed into him. A large hand went over his mouth, muffling him.

"Do you know Plato?" he whispered, not removing his hand for an answer. "I feel like you and I are tarred together. Two parts, one whole. If I tried to tear away from you, it would rip me apart."

Slowly, he began to thrust. His hand smothering Case's squeakish whimpers.

"I'd be raw."

thrust.

"Bloody."

thrust.

"Incomplete."

Sir picked up speed, Case's body adjusting. Endorphins kicking in, pleasure overriding pain. By the time Sir removed his hand, Case was shivering as electricity ran through his veins. His mouth free, he started whispering Sir, Sir, Sir in rhythm with the older man's thrusts.

Three words bubbled up inside Case, threatening to spill into the open. He knew they were too big, too taboo. But they swelled inside of him, building and building, dominating every thought in his head and impulse in his body. Overcome, he let them slip into his orgasm:

"I love you."

Sir went still.

Case went still. Oh, no. His wait for a response dragged on, filling him with dread. Shit. Why did he say that? God, he was so stupid. He didn't even know if he meant it—but secretly, he begged Sir to say it in return.

"Casey?" Sir whispered. His thumb caressed Case's cheek, tracing the faint scar. "I believe you."