Page 16 of A Dangerous Game

Carter takes in a breath that’s more of an awful gasp. Then his knees give out and he falls to the floor with a sob. Nathan goes with him, wrapping the boy up in his arms even though he knows Carter will probably fight him.

Except… Carter doesn’t fight him.

Instead, Carter surges forward until their mouths clash in a harsh mockery of a kiss. Nathan pulls away, trying to look at Carter, but the boy shoves forward and kisses him again. Before Nathan can figure out what the fuck to do, he’s climbing into Nathan’s lap and fuckingdevouringhim. Nathan can’t catch his damn breath, having no idea what’s happening. Not that he has an issue with it, but it’s a bit… unexpected. Out of the blue.

He’s just worried –yup, there it is…

Carter’s first sob is muffled by the kiss, but his second is so loud that it doesn’t matter. When Nathan tries to pull away, the boy attacks harder, fingers clawing at his back, his legs squeezing the hell out of Nathan’s sides, his entire body trembling.

“Please.” He bites at Nathan's lips, trying to keep him engaged. Or maybe punish him. When Carter softens the kiss again, Nathan can taste his tears. "Please. I'll do anything."

“Carter-” Nathan tries to say, but the boy just kisses him harder, nearly knocking him over.

“You can fuck me. I know you want to. I can feel how hard you are.”

Carter’s hand presses against the bulge in Nathan's pants, making him groan. "Carter-" he tries again. "Sweetheart-"

“Please.”

And Nathan remembers then what Carter is after, the soft plea enough of an echo from earlier to remind him. Carter doesn't want this. He doesn't want him. He just wants Casey to be safe.

“Carter, I saidno.”

Nathan has just enough time to feel a fresh wave of guilt before the boy suddenly hits him. He rears back the best he can with Carter in his lap, figuring it was a mistake, but a second hit comes right after. It hits his mouth, the taste of blood blooming on his tongue. "Carter, stop it!"

The boy is sobbing, swinging wildly now. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!”

Nathan’s heart lurches, his eyes automatically going to the door. The walls here are thick, but they're not soundproof.

“That’s enough! Calm the fuck down!” Nathan hisses. “Now, Carter. They can hear you.”

“I don’t care!” Carter yells, thrashing as Nathan tries to get closer to him. “Fuck them! Fuck you! I hate this!”

“Carter-”

“I hope you all die! If – if he dies, I hope you all die too!” he screams. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!”

Giving into instinct - Nathan’s instinct, not Travis’s - Nathan manhandles Carter off of his lap and pins him to the floor in the most gentle way possible, gathering his wrists behind his back and holding them there, straddling the boy’s upper thighs before he can start to kick him. Carter manages to get a good shot to Nathan's face first, though. It hurts like a bitch.

“Shhh,” Nathan murmurs, using one hand to clumsily yank off his tie. He uses it to bind Carter’s wrists together so he can have both hands free to maneuver him into a sitting position. Then he tugs the boy into his lap and tucks him in tight to his chest, cupping a hand over his mouth to keep his angry words muted.

“Shhh,” Nathan says again, beginning to rock them. “I know, Carter. I know. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Carter thrashes a bit more before either giving up or running out of energy. He deflates against Nathan. Nathan's hand twitches against his lips. "If I take my hand away, will you be quiet?"

He nods.

Nathan tentatively removes his hand, holding his breath, but all Carter does is turn his face into the crook of Nathan's neck. It could be for comfort, or it could be to hide. Nathan hates that he doesn't know anymore.

They stay that way for a long time. Longer than they should, if Nathan was being smart. Eventually the bubble has to be broken though. Nathan reaches around to free Carter from his knotted tie, tossing the fabric off to the side carelessly before lifting the boy to his feet. He holds Carter’s hands a few extra seconds to make sure he’s steady before taking a step back and turning towards his desk.

He stands there staring at the hardwood surface, his mind racing as he realizes what he's going to have to do. His men heard that. There's no way they didn't.

Carter is going to have to be punished.

Carter watches Nathan stare at his desk for what has to be fifteen minutes before he finally gets the courage to ask, “Is everything alright?”

Nathan’s shoulders tense before he huffs an unamused laugh. “No, Carter. Nothing is fucking alright.”