La Maison 2: Differences (Complete: BDSM mxm)

Some time later: François

A/N: so, apologies in advance for the French butchery that I'm pretty sure is in here - there's not much, but Google translate doesn't do context, so if you can improve on it, please say 🧐

François

I knew today would be difficult, but I had no idea it would be harder on me than it is on Ellis. I watched Ellis dress this morning in his power suit, as he calls it, and it took everything I had not to tie him to our bed and spend the day taking him apart, instead of making him do this awful thing. But he dealt with it in the way he's learned, from Gray, and Dr. Marvin, and maybe, if I'm feeling a little egotistical, me, too. He kept his head held high, and he sat with me in the gallery as we watched the jury hand down a guilty verdict on Ivan Klavic.

Because of the nature of the charges against him, all of the witnesses the prosecutor had pulled together had been allowed to give their testimony through video link, but Ellis had wanted to be here for this, had wanted to look the man who had stolen his teen years from him in the eye as he'd lost everything. Klavic is broken, looking at least twenty years older than his purported age. The judge sets the date for sentencing, but says Klavic is to be kept in custody, and that he will be recommending the maximum sentence, and the man shrinks even more.

I might be a bit of a wreck, inside, but I'm unsurprised at the joy in Ellis's face as we leave the court. He's already pushed through everything that happened to him, because he's so darned strong, but today was the cherry on top.

"I want to take you for coffee." He grabs my hand, positively skipping, and then leaning into me with a beatific smile. It's not even removed when some city-redneck spits out a slur, he just blasts out a happy 'fuck you' as he drags me down the street.

"Get a cake," he insists, still smiling, as I order my coffee. God, he's such a fucking light. I'm paying him, obviously, for the work he's doing at the club, and he's taken to insisting on treating me all the time, which I don't hate. It isn't about the money, for either of us, it's about being a pair. And besides, he's proud of himself, and I'm proud of him, and I love that he can show off at how well he's doing.

"I told Nikki I'm ready to meet my father, like we talked about," he says, licking a foamy mustache off his lips, that only makes me want to devour him, right here in this family-friendly coffee shop.

"Good for you. Is he coming here? Or do you want to go to Minsk?" I suddenly realize that's an option.

"Hah! No. Nikki's mom sounds like a witch. He's coming here, but he's telling her it's for work. Promise me we'll never be like that; lying and hiding things."

"She might have a point, Baby. I tell you what, you promise me that you'll never impregnate some random woman, and I promise we'll never lie about it."

He laughs, such a clear, joyous sound that people look over, smiling, bathing in his happiness.

"I want to play with you," I whisper, unable to hold back any longer.

"Here?" he jokes, but he waves the waitress over, changing our order to takeout.

I manage to keep my hands off him until we get through the door. On the way, I messaged the staff to go to their apartment, so we have the place to ourselves. The moment we're through the door, Ellis puts the cake boxes on the console table and drops elegantly to his knees before me.

"Such a good boy," I purr, running my thumb along his perfect jawline, then back up until my fingers are entwined in his hair, and I can tug, just sharply enough for him to gasp in pleasure and for his head to tilt.