Belle Morte Bites (Belle Morte 4.3)

Patrick: Part Two

But Gideon didn't get used to it.

The morning after next, when Maggie and the children were away again, Patrick returned to Gideon's room. This time, Gideon was ready for him, naked on the bed, as Patrick had instructed. He expected Patrick to be pleased, but Patrick said nothing. He didn't even smile.

Instead, he stripped off his clothes, climbed onto the bed behind Gideon, and delivered the same brand of rough sex that he had the first time.

The next time after that was the same, and the next and the next, until days became weeks, and Gideon no longer anticipated Patrick's visits.

Whether this was normal or not, Gideon could no longer tell himself that he was still enjoying it. Patrick wouldn't allow him to touch him during sex, unless he wanted to push deep inside Gideon's mouth, although he never returned the favour.

They'd never once kissed.

Patrick never asked how Gideon was, not even in the general sense. He knew nothing about Gideon and had made it clear he had no interest in knowing.

He also made it clear that he didn't care about Gideon's own pleasure.

If Patrick came first, that was it – sex was over, time to get dressed.

Nicholas had never done that. If he came first, then he made sure that Gideon followed as soon as possible, every time. But with Patrick, it was only about his pleasure, his climax. If Gideon didn't get there first, Patrick wouldn't bother taking him there.

Outside the attic room, he barely acknowledged Gideon. He spoke to him like he would to any employee, and though he'd never been the warmest of men, Gideon felt that his eyes were colder when he looked at Gideon than at anyone else. And inside the attic, they didn't get warmer.

There was something angry about the way that Patrick had sex, something aggressive, and sometimes, when he was done, he got off the bed and out of the room as quickly as he could, as if he couldn't stand the sight of Gideon.

It made Gideon feel worthless, like there really was something wrong with him.

After six weeks, he had had enough.

It was time to be honest with Patrick.

The next time Patrick came to visit, Gideon waited for him, leaning against the foot of the bed, fully clothed. He expected Patrick to be annoyed, and he was right.

Patrick glared at him as he came into the room, shutting the door with more force than was necessary.

"I thought I'd made myself clear on this –"

"I don't want to do this anymore," Gideon interrupted.

Patrick looked taken aback, then his eyebrows pulled down over his eyes in a thunderous scowl.

"What are you talking about?"

"Whenever we have sex, it seems like you're really angry, usually with me and that doesn't exactly make me feel good about myself. Why are you angry?" Gideon said.

"I'm not," Patrick snapped.

Gideon glanced at the other man's hands. "So your fists are clenched out of pure happiness, are they?"

Patrick looked vaguely startled, as if he hadn't even realised he was doing it. With an effort, he uncurled his fists, but that didn't ease the strained atmosphere in the room.