Messy [MxM]

Chapter 4: Out of Control

Dakota tried to leave before Tyler woke up, but as he was hurrying to fasten his chinos, Tyler stirred and fixed him with an intense stare.

"Running away, whore?"

Dakota wished he wouldn't use the pet name outside of sex, especially not in that morning voice, sensuously rough and slow. Part of Dakota was still in bed with him, reliving getting hit so right and fucked so good, and he didn't need to get pulled any deeper into that desire. He couldn't believe he'd let a complete stranger do what he'd let Tyler do. Going to the club to beg for sex was one thing, but letting some rando into his head?

Stupid. He was so stupid.

"Just...gotta go," he said.

"You need to take my number first."

Dakota laughed, the sound high and frantic to his own ears. "No, I don't."

"Yes, you do. Give me your phone."

Dakota ignored the command in favor of buttoning up his shirt. He could feel Tyler staring at him, but he refused to look even when he heard the tell-tale creak of bedsprings, then the brush of fabric and the snap of an elastic band.

"Give me your phone, Dakota." Tyler's voice was closer now.

"Fuck you. I'm not giving you my phone. I don't want your number."

"It's for you. In case you get weird in your head about what happened. You know, sub drop?"

"Right. Well." Dakota shoved his bare feet into his sneakers and his socks into his pocket. He needed to go. "Whatever happens, I'll deal with it on my own."

He turned to leave, but Tyler grabbed him from behind—like last night except he didn't go for Tyler's throat. Instead, he dug his hand in Dakota's pocket—the one that didn't hold socks. Before Dakota could react, Tyler had his phone in hand and was pulling away.

Fury burned through Dakota. "Give it back."

"What's your passcode?" Standing there in just his boxers, chin-length hair mussed from sleep, he still managed to ooze confidence.

"Like I would tell you."

Tyler averted his eyes—it was almost an eyeroll—and sighed. "Look, I know you were just using me last night, and maybe you're embarrassed—"

"Why would I be embarrassed?" Dakota scoffed, putting his hand on his hip. What was there to be embarrassed about? He liked what he liked; he'd just let Tyler take it a bit too far was all.

"Nothing. Sorry. I—"

"Give me my phone!"

"Just let me put my fucking number in here! You don't have to use it!" Tyler's voice cracked, and he coughed and looked around, maybe for a bottle of water, but then he held up Dakota's phone, screen out. "Put in your passcode." His voice croaked, and he cleared his throat.

Dakota sighed as obnoxiously as he could. "1-1-1-1."

"Very secure."

"Fuck you."

As Tyler tapped away on the phone screen, he smirked, but there wasn't any joy in it. "If you think I'm doing this because I want to date you or collar you or some shit, you don't have to worry. I wouldn't want a sub so disrespectful." Apparently finished, he held out the phone.

Dakota's face burned. Maybe he liked to be called a whore in bed, but Tyler's comment was the real kind of mean, and even though Dakota had been trying to run a few minutes ago, the insult ignited an uncomfortable fire inside him.