Mercy (ManxBoy)

59: тнє ρσωєя ιѕ мιиє

To ride the waves of pleasure and pain, come on boy obey me,

Lick my boots to please me maybe I will loosen your chains.

S Y K E S:

When I pulled into my parents driveway, I felt dread nagging at me. The house I grew up in was huge, bigger than anything we'd ever needed. My parents only ever had two children.

"Wow," Zaire said, looking over the house that I grew up in. This house—it was never home. It was a place I hated to be more than anything. Most people can't wait to get home, but I spent most of my time trying to get out. "This is nice," he said awkwardly, and I shrugged.

I jumped when I felt Zaire put a comforting hand on my shoulder. I turned to look at him. He had a gentle smile on his face, and I smiled back at him. "Let's go. Might as well face the gate keepers sooner than later." I said, sarcasm dripping from my words.

Sooner was always better with my father. He had drilled an over-obsessive compulsion in me that had to do with time—or more accurately—being on time. If I see that I'm going to be late, or the other person is late, I will absolutely cancel the entire meeting and reschedule it for a time everyone can make it... because I can't be late.

It wasn't something I couldn't control now, but when I'd first left my parents home, it was so deeply ingrained in me that I set a clock for an hour ahead of time so that I would always make it on time. It took me months of pointedly ignoring alarms and being late before I got even the slightest bit better.

Now I can handle being somewhat late, but only if it's a few minutes. And when someone else is late it affects me nearly as bad. That's why I'm very glad that Zaire is punctual.

I found myself moving, stiff but still moving, nonetheless. I hated that I had to be like this in front of Zaire because he's never been around me when I was within the vicinity of my father. And I knew that he'd know something was wrong, too. He could always tell, almost as if he could see inside of my head.

We stood at the door after ringing the bell and it was only mere moments before their housekeeper opened the door. "Why Sykes it's so nice to see you!" The older lady said, ushering us inside. I nodded at her as she took our jackets and hung them up on the hanger by the door.

"You as well, Tabitha. I assume life is treating you well?" I asked her curtly and she smirked at me.

"Boy you need to come round more often!" She said, and I nodded, looking around the house. I haven't stepped foot in their house since I was twenty two, and I don't plan on it becoming a weekly occurrence. "Hello dearie, you must be his boyfriend!" She said and looked over Zaire. He nodded shyly and stuck his hand out for her to shake. She ignored it completely, pulling him into a hug.

"Ms. Lorenzo please refrain from assaulting our guest." My fathers drawl said and she immediately let go of Zaire, nodding and hurrying off.

My fathers scrutinizing eyes went over me, taking in my appearance. Zaire took my hand, obviously trying to comfort me. "Certainly you could've had your... boyfriend iron your shirt, Sykes." He said, and I narrowed my eyes. He laughed, looking over Zaire this time.

If he found anything wrong with Zaire's appearance I'd probably be forced to murder him. Zaire had spent two hours standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, lint-rolling his shirt and messing with his hair repeatedly, his eyes searching aimlessly for a speck of dirt or one tiny little hair out of place.

He looked ravishing though. His face was flawless, his dyed black hair was brushed and styled to where his sterling blue eyes were visible. His dress shirt was tight-fitting but not too much so, making him look fit and lean. His pants were suit pants, but they were slim and made his ass look spectacular. He'd even paired his dress clothes with a pair of nice leather dress shoes I didn't even realize he owned.