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It felt like Mr.Cardiff would never stop talking. You nodded and half listened but the old man kept going on and on about the things he expected done. The usual chores, grooming, exercise. He didn’t trust you to drive, not yet but the money made from this hunting trip would make up for lost profits for the weekend.
“And for the love of God, the little bay mare. I expect her to take the bit without all that silliness by the time I get back or I’m selling her off for glue. That horse has wasted enough of my valuable time.” He snapped.
“Yes sir.” you said.
“And I mean it about my stables, boy. Clean as a whistle.” Cardiff motioned with his cane and glared down his nose at you. “Or you’ll suffer the same fate.”
You hated when he called you that. Boy. As if you weren’t well past twenty.
“Yes sir.” you said.
Finally, he turned tail and left, briefly blessing you with a breeze from the door. You sat there for a moment in the humid air of the stable in silence. Not a day went by that you didn’t dream of this. Some time to be alone with the horses and not having the old bastard on your ass for everything. It was a good job when he wasn’t around.
You turned towards the horses and sigh. Might as well get mucking over with as soon as possible. Breakfast could wait.
Vixen really was pretty. Today just as every day she came right up to you, bay coat shining, and whinnied.
“Ok, Ok.” You said and put your hands up to catch her face on its way towards you. She was the most friendly horse you’d ever worked with. How Cardiff could toss her away to die you could never understand.
You grabbed the rope and looped it with one hand and tried bringing it up to her mouth. So far so good. You put your thumb into the corner of her mouth and obediently she opened up and took the loop and almost immediately she started pulling it, taking it out of your hands but keeping it within reach.
“I’m trying to save your life, you know.” You sighed and grabbed it. Vixen’s tail flicked and she pulled, engaging you in a tug of war.
“Vixie come on” you try and sound stern but a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.
After a few minutes you give up and go for the actual bit.
“Let’s try this again.” This time she refused to take it at all and kept her head just out of reach. “Vixen. Bite it. You’ve done it before, you need to do it every time.”
You lunge for her face and she steps back letting you fall. You get the wind knocked out of you for a minute but soon feel the familiar flicks of a tongue on your head. She always apologized at least.
You sat up and dusted yourself off. At least the heat is abating somewhat. It must be getting late. You lead Vixen back into her stall and start to close up for the night. As per routine, everyone gets a good night brushing and Vixen rests her head on you while you work. You sang lullabies which might be more for you than them.
“All the pretty little horses
Black and bays, white and gray.
All the pretty little horses.”
You wiped the sweat from your brow and nearly jumped when a voice came from the long evening shadows.
“Now that is beautiful.”
You turned around, looking for its source and noticed a man sitting near the hay on an upturned bucket, hands on his knees. He was fair skinned with long dark hair falling over his face which looked weathered and dirty.
The man smiled and somehow his teeth were clean and white as you’d ever seen. “Write that yourself, did you?”
You shook your head slowly. “I just heard it. It’s just an old song people sing where I’m from.”
He cocked his head a little. “Not a native of Boston?”
“No.” you replied and squinted. “Neither are you I’m guessing. Irish?”
He nodded. “Come to America to make a living. See new things. Hear new songs.”
You walk closer to him but he doesn’t get up. He throws out a grubby hand. “Remmick.”
You shake his hand and introduce yourself. “Can I help you Mr.Remmick?”
“Indeed you can. I was just passing through but the heat got to me. I am in need of hospitality if you can offer.”
If there was one thing Cardiff hated more than southerners it was immigrants. Nothing would so agitate the man than to know he had inadvertently opened his property to a homeless Irishman.
“As a matter of fact, I can.” You say smiling. “Why don’t you come upstairs.”
---
In the apartment upstairs he seemed much more at ease. He disappeared into the washroom for an hour and when he emerged Remmick looked like a new man. A handsome man at that. The burns were beginning to fade but he still winced putting his shirt back on.
“Wait a minute.” You called, reaching for the collar.
His dark eyes turned to you patiently.
“I uh. I have something that could help with your skin.” You push past him into the washroom and open up a cabinet.
“Vanishing cream with witch hazel.” You say and present the jar timidly.
He seems surprised at the gesture but doesn’t object. Remmick slides his shirt off again and walks towards the living room. “Mind if I sit down? I’ve been walking for a few days.”
You swallow nervously. Part of you thrills at the opportunity for contact, human contact. Don’t overthink it. Last time…didn’t end so well.
In the living room you unscrew the jar and dip your fingers in the cool cream. As you rub his skin you notice the couple of freckles dotting his shoulders. Beneath your fingers you can feel muscle, lean and hard. He must have a background in something manual you think and wonder briefly how much he can carry.
“Do you drive them? Your horses.” You can feel Remmick’s voice vibrate through his chest which shocks you out of your reverie.
“Uh no. Not really.” You mumble. “The coachman I work for does. Mr.Cardiff. He won’t let me drive yet.”
Remmick turns around and lets you rub his chest. “He’s not here?”
“No, sir.” You say reflexively.
“And he’d be alright with this then?”
You shrug. “It’s my home too.”
Remmick is watching you but you avoid eye contact. Suddenly his hand covers yours and stops it at the middle of his chest. He starts humming something and you feel the vibrations through your fingertips. You close your eyes for a second and let him hum the melody, so familiar, but what was it from?
When he finished you opened your eyes again and met his. “Do you know that song? Where you’re from?” asked Remmick.
“I think so.” You say. “The girl I left behind me. Old soldier’s song.”
He smiles. “In Ireland it’s An Spailpín Fánach and it’s certainly not about a soldier.”
You withdraw your hand, realizing that you’ve probably kept it there too long. “Oh?”
“Yes.” He says. “It’s about a man running from a hard life. Takes up the banner of France to escape it.”
You chance a personal question. “Are you running from something?”
This time he shrugs. “Aren’t we all?”
You can’t tell if you’ve offended him or not so you try to change the subject. “Well. If you need a place to stay the night, my boss won’t be back until Monday.”
“Really? I wouldn’t want to put you out or anything.”
“No I’d uh. I’d appreciate the company. Tends to just be me and the horses around here. Maybe in the morning you could tell me a little more about Ireland.”
Remmick nodded. “Sure thing.”
There was a long pause before you ask again if he wants any of the soup you had for dinner but again he declines and with that you excuse yourself to bed.
---
In the morning you find that your guest has made breakfast before going back to sleep. He really must have been tired. It’s well into the afternoon by the time you return upstairs after morning chores to find all the curtains drawn.
Remmick was looking up at a photo of Cardiff, his wife and their children. You didn’t interupt him but he heard you anyways and turned around.
“Did you come here alone?” You asked. “Not with your family?”
He thought about his response. “No family. Nothing to lose.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s rough back there. The English got their own ideas about Ireland and about the Irish.” He turned back to the photo. “My family went hungry trying to feed me. America’s been much more generous.”
You shrug. “Not to everyone.”
Remmick turned around and came closer again. You notice that he’s swapped his shirt with one of Cardiff’s which was slightly baggy on him. “I’m going to hazard a guess and say I probably don’t even have to tell you about where I come from because you’re coming from the same place.”
His dark eyes were boring into yours and the eerie intimacy of his gaze made you shiver. “I got here on the back of a horse that wasn’t mine to ride. I heard the northeast was a good place to start over. So here I am.”
You’d never told anyone that before. Cardiff at least had the decency to never ask as long as you'd take a piss poor salary and besides him, strangers had a tendency not to ask.
“You’ve got a real talent with ‘em.” Remmick chimed and leaned in. “I’d be willing to bet you could tame just about any wild beast that winds up at your door.”
You keep eye contact with him but draw yourself back. “What do you mean by that?”
Remmick gets closer, hands in his pockets. “You only break horses? Or do you break lonely strangers just as well?”
You notice the wall behind you and brace yourself against it. “ Depends. How strange is the stranger, really?” This was a mistake.
Remmick was inches from your person now and slowly lowered himself to his knees in front of you. “Stranger than you think.”
Your heart was beating fast but time was slowing to a crawl. It was like your hands had a mind of their own. They reached slowly for his dark brown hair and pulled it gently out of his face before twisting your fingers in it and bringing his head towards your crotch.
Remmick rubbed his head into you like a cat sending heat beneath your waist. Without leaning away, he put his hands on your hips and slid them lower until they reached your belt. He pulled and it snapped and fell to the floor preceding your trousers. You figured he was strong but still, that belt was decent leather.
He opened his mouth and bit into the fabric of your underwear and you let out a little gasp of surprise. You felt his teeth graze your cock gently before closing only on the fabric and tearing it as easily as paper off of you. Where’d he learn to do a thing like that? You wonder briefly before he takes you in his mouth and you lose the ability to think entirely.
Remmick sucked and lapped at your cock and the more it grew the hungrier he seemed to be for it. His hands groped and squeezed at your ass while he worked already sending goosebumps rising on the back of your neck.
You moaned and cried out involuntarily. It’d been so long since you’d even bothered to self stimulate that he was making you dizzy. Your knees shook and you came violently in his mouth. Remmick took this as eagerly as he took everything else and swallowed, humming with pleasure. Your legs gave in and you slumped a little but Remmick slipped a hand up your back and caught you as easily as one would a vase.
Cradled in his arms, you reach for your belt from the floor and tie it around his mouth. “Bite it.”
He obeyed, eyes shining. A little of your cum drools from under the belt onto his chin.
“That a boy.” You say and run a hand across his face. “Now let’s see how you ride.” You get back to your feet and step over him. With two hands you push Remmick’s shoulders down until he’s on his elbows on the floor.
“Stand. Don’t move.” You command and he freezes in place while you strip off his pants.
You lower yourself into him and onto him, hands on his strong shoulders and dick shoved inside of him. Your hips grind into his, slowly at first and then faster when you hear him start to moan. Remmick starts to turn to look back at you but you yank the loop of the belt and return his head to face forward. This time you don’t let go of it and drive harder, deeper into your wayward gelding to punish him. He rewards you with whimpers which bring you the familiar throbs of orgasm again.
“Stand!” You hiss again as you start to erupt into him. Remmick takes your load and doesn’t dare move this time, although from the way he’s shaking you can tell he’s about to burst.
After you finish you begin to take pity on the poor creature. You return to the front of him and when his eyes find yours you give him a nod of approval. Remmick grunts against his gag and ejaculates onto the floor in spurts.
You touch him by the hair again and he nuzzles into you again. The two of you lie together on the rug with his head on your chest. He doesn’t ask you to untie him and eventually you fall asleep.
---
When you wake up it’s dark and the shutters have been opened again. You’re alone and as your thoughts return to you, you wince with embarrassment. Remmick was probably miles away with some other fool who fell for his charm act. Or…your mind wanders back to the dark corner you avoid as much as possible. You allow yourself to think it. Or he’s coming back with some buddies to ‘play’ with the pervert. After all, it’d happened before. What would they have done if you hadn’t gotten lucky? If you hadn’t done what you did?
The door opens and you’re broken from the spiral. It was Remmick holdings a handful of flowers, black in the moonlight but certainly red ordinarily. His face was concerned looking into yours.
“Everything alright?” He asked.
You noticed that you’d curled yourself into a ball and tried to change the subject. “Are… those for me?”
He nodded and set them in a spare glass. “Figured I’d surprise you but I lost track of time. Now,” Remmick glided over to the couch and sat next to you. “Something’s got you upset and now that we know each other a little more biblically, I don’t see any reason you can’t tell me.”
You shake your head. “It’s really bad.”
He put a calming hand on your shoulder. “Oh I’m sure I’ve got worse. Come on.”
You feel the secret clawing at your chest again. Something about the idea of telling him feels so easy. Like talking to a figure in a dream. And somehow you believed him when he said he had worse.
“I killed someone. Back in my hometown. In Mississippi. I want to say I didn’t mean to but I did.” The words turn your stomach and you look up searching his dark eyes for understanding. He rubbed your shoulder reassuringly.
“He wanted to pass me around like some kind of toy. Fucking bastard.” You continued. “ They would have hurt me or…or worse. I took my father’s gun and after the first one fell the rest of them started for me. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t ever come back.”
Remmick nodded to you. “You did what you had to to survive. In the end that’s all any of us want. Maybe it’s just not in your nature to accept death. Some of us are wolves, not sheep.”
You sigh shakily and consider his words. “I never told anyone. I never wanted it to be real.” You look up at him, at his black dark eyes in the moonlight and realize that his eyes might be the same color as the flowers.
“Are you real?” You ask him. “You come out of nowhere…painting my life into something different. All the while I’m trying to figure out who you are and what you want. Why you’re still here.”
Remmick smiled and his teeth gleamed, long and white…and sharp. “I’m here for you.”
Your eyes widen and with each blink you expect what you’re seeing to change, to go away. It doesn’t.
“I’m still here, sweetheart.”
Your breath catches in your throat. Finally you had a name or at least a face for the way he made you nervous inspite of his friendly overtures. A reason for the uncanny nonpresence you felt around him. His words echoed; ‘I’m here for you.’.
You step back. “What do you want from me?”
This time he stayed where he was instead of pursuing. “I want you to become like me. Free. Untethered by all the things that make you toss and turn in your sleep.”
You look down weighing what he just said. “To become a monster?”
This dampened his smile some. “Monster?”
“Where have you been tonight?” You ask accusingly.
“Out for a drink honey. At the pub.”
After taking your hesitation for disbelief he said. “I was. I swear.”
“And what exactly do you have to swear on? What honor? What soul?”
“Have I hurt you?” He interjected, raising his voice a little for the first time. “It’s been just us two and the horses for days and I haven’t done one thing to you but be kind.”
You cross your arms. “I gave you shelter, clothes on your back and now you’re asking for my life.”
“What life?” He implored. “That man Cardiff is never gonna give up the stable to you, you know that right? You are way too old to be a stableboy and too talented at that.”
“I’m just trying to make a living.” You retort. “You said that’s what you came to America to do.”
“You know what I think?” Remmick lowered his voice. “I think Cardiff already suspects something like what you told me about where you come from. I think he knows he can keep you here working like a dog because you can’t go anywhere else.”
You bit your lip and inhaled sharply.
“What does he make you do?” Remmick asked, eyes flashing. “Keep his house? Clean his clothes?”
You looked away but he moved into your eyeline again.
“He does, doesn't he? What’s to stop him from taking more from you?”
“I am.” You snap fiercely. “I’m not letting anyone take advantage of me again.”
Remmick smirked. “That’s right. That’s what you are. That’s why you’re gonna beg me to bite you.”
You huff incredulously.
“Oh I’m quite serious.” He said, raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms. “Why don’t we make a little wager. If you don’t ask, I’ll be gone before morning, won’t bother you again. But if you ask me to bite you…” his expression became serious. “I won’t even try to be gentle.”
Something in Remmick’s tone scared you a little. You realize that whatever he is, you still don’t know anything about him, not really. To save face, you lean over him and chide “Promise?”
Remmick’s hands reach up and pull your head into a kiss. You feel his tongue slide into your mouth and graze the back of your throat, surprising you with its length. His mouth is slimey, coated with thick saliva that leaves trails when your mouths pull apart. It disgusts you but sends twinge to your cock all the same wondering if all his fluids were so gooey.
He leans in again and starts licking and mouthing at your neck but the moment you feel the tips of his teeth you pull his head back by the hair. Remmick makes a low, almost imperceptible noise, maybe akin to a growl or purr.
His eyes stayed on your throat and suddenly you had a pretty good idea of his drink of choice. He reached forward, curled his fingers around your length, and started to stroke you a little. This was about blood flow you knew but in spite of your best efforts you couldn’t keep the heat from beginning to flood to your face.
Both hands went to the sides of his head now, holding him back. Remmick’s other hand went to your ass and squeezed. You could feel claws - his claws- dig into your skin. He licked his lips and drool coated his chin but his eyes betrayed his hunger even more.
Tongue lolling, Remmick shut his eyes and moaned so achingly that a shudder ran through your body. He clutched hard on your cock and you drew in a sudden breath. You could feel the knot of semen bulging beneath his fingers and begging to escape. Seconds turned to minutes as he didn’t let up, making very clear that the key to releasing you was to do the same for him.
In one movement you relaxed your grip and he did his, freeing you to spatter his lower half in cum before his mouth reached your neck. Remmick bit down hard, causing warm red beads to drip down your back. He was all over you, grabbing and thrusting, finishing while pressed against you, again and again. And each time as he did, you could feel the line between his body and yours begin to blur.
You were losing track of whose hands were where, who had rolled on top and finally, whose ideas were whose. At some point, the first few rays of sun were starting to burn from behind the blinds and you both stayed laying there, tangled in one another wordlessly waiting for Cardiff to return home and find you both in his bed. You both ran through the scenarios in your shared mind of how you would take him, how you would leave nothing but scraps until it became very difficult to think of very much else.