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He was fifteen the first time he rode on the back of Duke’s motorcycle.
He was fifteen and a quarter the first time he realized what it meant.
He was fifteen and a half the first time Duke touched him. He had touched Duke plenty of times. His hands wrapped around Duke’s stomach as he drove as fast as Robby’s heart was beating. Duke didn’t wear a helmet because he always put it on Robby instead. It was too big for him, but it was better than nothing. It felt romantic, like even though he was this dangerous, scary biker, he’d risk his own safety if it meant keeping Robby safe. It was barely a touch; his arm was on the booth behind Robby as he and his buddies exchanged stories. Robby didn’t hear a word they said, because all he could feel was Duke’s fingers against the back of his neck. His finger was twirling the end of Robby’s hair.
He was fifteen and three-quarters when he started to fantasize about it.
Three months away from sixteen.
Three months from then, nobody in the world would be able to stop him from letting the dirty old biker do whatever he pleased with him.
Duke taking him for good, claiming him, stealing the only thing Robby could offer a man like him.
Nobody had ever touched him, but he wanted Duke to.
He knew Duke wanted it.
He wouldn’t touch him until it was time, but Robby knew.
They all did.
He was Duke’s boy, marked, spoken for, owned.
Everybody knew it.
His father beat him within an inch of his life when they got the letter from his school. He hadn’t gone to class in months. He had told his parents it was just a job; he just bused tables at the bar. But that letter changed things; they knew something else was going on.
His eye was bruised, dark, and his lip busted, the next time he saw Duke.
He hadn’t talked to him in a few days.
He wasn’t supposed to go more than a day without calling him.
They caught him on his walk back home from school, a Cadillac rolled up next to him, and a familiar face told him to get in the car.
He was delivered to him like a drunk teen caught drinking, being returned to his parents' house.
Duke was at the bar, like he usually was.
“Who did this?” He whispered as his thumb and pointer finger held Robby’s face in his chin.
Robby swallowed nervously. “I’m not supposed to see you anymore,”
“Says who?”
“My dad.”
Duke chuckled, his thumb gently tracing over Robby’s bruised cheek. “You gonna listen?”
Robby looked up at him through his eyebrows. “I don’t want to,” It was a declaration of his independence, the first step of his new life. Initiation into the biker gang. Their little wolf pup, attempting to learn how to howl.
“Then you won’t,”
They didn’t receive a single letter in the mail for six months.
Robby never knew what he did. Not that Duke ever did dirty work. No, he gave the word, and things were done for him. His hands were as clean as Robby’s soft baby face. He couldn’t even grow a beard. Maybe it was wrong, but they were untouchable; Duke was untouchable.
Fifteen and three hundred and sixty-four days.
He had no plans to spend his birthday with his family.
He slipped out of his bedroom window the second they were asleep. He ran down the street like he was running to his freedom.
Duke was around the corner, on the next street, leaning against a Cadillac. Robby wasn’t sure who it belonged to because of how many people he saw drive it. He was smoking a cigarette. He smiled as soon as he saw Robby. “Took you long enough, kid,”
Robby bit his lip as he walked up to him. “I wanted to be sure they were asleep,”
Duke spread his legs open as he leaned against the hood of the car and nodded down at the space between them.
Robby slipped between the open space between them. He didn’t press his body up against his, but he was close.
Duke took the cigarette out of his mouth and turned it around to place it between Robby’s lips. He slipped his hands around Robby’s slim waist and pulled him closer until he was pressed up against his body completely.
Robby took a nervous puff of the cigarette.
Duke’s little boy had never smoked before he met him.
Naturally, he corrupted him.
That was how things went between them.
Robby was his good little boy, and Duke was his worst influence.
The first time Robby tasted the Marlboro smoke was when Duke gently pried his jaw open and blew it into his mouth. He was addicted before he ever had the chance to inhale its toxicity. Their lips were so close, Robby would have smoked a thousand cigarettes if it meant Duke would kiss him.
Duke looked down at his watch with a smile. “Two hours, sweetheart.”
Robby pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and leaned in closer.
Duke opened his mouth, letting him blow the smoke into his mouth.
They had waited so long; what was two more hours?
Duke’s hands gripped Robby’s waist. “Let’s go,”
“Where?” Robby whispered. Duke had refused to tell him anything about what he had planned for his boy’s birthday.
Duke let go of his waist and took the cigarette back. “Get in,”
Duke liked to drive with the windows down. It was spring, so it wasn’t too cold. His hand rested on the back of Robby’s neck, twirling his hair as he drove.
“Duke?” Robby asked after a few minutes. The wind had started to numb his face, but he didn’t mind. It felt like windy little kisses.
“What baby?”
Robby’s stomach turned, warming like a furnace as he heard it.
“I know what I want for my birthday,”
“What?”
“You,”
Duke’s hand gripped the back of Robby’s neck and pulled him over towards him until his head hit his side.
Robby made a quiet noise as he snuggled up beside him.
“You have me.”
Robby knew that. He knew by the way Duke looked after him. The way he took him in was like a lost puppy. Duke had adopted him. Duke owned him. That’s how he wanted things to be. Sixteen would be the beginning of the rest of his life as Duke’s number one boy. The only person Robby had ever kissed was his childhood crush; she had braces that cut his lip. Her lips were wet in a way that made him feel like throwing up. It felt wrong. He didn’t kiss anyone after that. He didn’t want to until he met Duke.
“I don’t want to live at home anymore,” Robby hummed.
“Then you won’t.”
“They’ll try and stop me.” Robby looked up at Duke as he drove. He was so beautiful. He wondered if anyone else saw him like he did. To everyone else, Duke was a monster, but to him, he was his saviour.
Duke chuckled as he made a turn with his left hand. “You think I’ll let them?”
“No, sir.”
“He won’t even think about touching you again, I promise.”
“No?” Robby whispered.
“No one’s gonna touch a hair on your little head ever again.”
“What would you do if they did?”
Duke parked the car in front of a house Robby had never seen before. As soon as the car was in park, he placed his hand on Robby’s face and stared down into his big doe eyes. “You know better than to ask questions.”
Robby smiled. “I don’t need to worry about that,” He repeated the same thing Duke always told him.
“Why?” Duke whispered, his lips trailing over the top of Robby’s temple.
“Because daddy will take care of things.”
That was new.
The first time Robby heard him say that, he swore he was going to faint.
It wasn’t even sexual.
He was playing cards with his buddy as Robby was lying in his lap. The bar wasn’t open, but it wouldn’t matter if it was. Nobody would ever question Duke, even about the young boy in his lap. He glanced down at him between hands. “Go get daddy a beer.” He said it like he didn’t even realize what he was saying.
Robby didn’t move at first; he couldn’t. It took him a few seconds to process what he said. But once he did, he rushed over to the bar, cracked open a beer, and brought it back to him.
“Thanks, kid,”
Robby made a quiet noise as he sat back down beside him.
Duke patted his thigh.
Robby was back in his lap like a dog hopping onto a couch.
“Whose place is this?” Robby hummed as Duke unlocked the door.
“Mine.”
Robby didn’t even know he had a house of his own. Duke was secretive; he didn’t talk about himself much. “Oh,”
Duke slipped off his leather jacket like a snake shedding its skin. “You want a beer, birthday boy?”
Robby turned around and looked at him. He suddenly felt so shy. He always felt shy around Duke, but this was different. They were alone. Truly alone. Locked away from the rest of the world. “Can I have one, daddy?” He liked to ask for permission.
“Maybe if you ask real nicely,” Duke whispered as he walked closer. His hands found their way back to Robby’s waist.
Robby swallowed. He batted his eyelashes up at him. “Please?”
“Nicer,” Duke hummed. His hands slipped up Robby’s shirt. One slid around his back while the other slid up his stomach. He was so soft. Duke loved that about his boy.
“Please, daddy,”
“Sit down.” Duke nodded his head towards the couch in the living room.
Robby pouted as he felt Duke’s hands let go of him, but he listened.
Duke came back with one beer.
Robby frowned as he sat down beside him.
Duke patted his lap.
Robby went to lie down on it.
“Ah ah ah-“
Robby froze at the familiar noise of a mistake and looked up at him. He tilted his head in confusion.
“Sit,”
“Sit?” Robby repeated.
“Come here.”
Robby crawled into his lap, sitting on top of him sideways.
“That’s it,” Duke whispered as he lifted the beer up to Robby’s lips.
Robby wrapped his lips around it, looking into Duke’s eyes as he did.
“Good boy,” Duke smiled. It was sinful. Watching the young man wrap his lips around the beer bottle like a newborn baby drinking from a bottle. Duke liked knowing he’d be the one to give him all of his firsts. His first bike ride, his first cigarette, his first drink, his first fuck. Robby was his, in the purest form possible. He was his beautiful little blank canvas.
Robby swallowed every drop he drank like he was worried he’d disappoint Duke if he didn’t.
One beer became two, and two became three.
Two hours became one.
One hour became thirty minutes.
Thirty minutes became ten minutes.
“Why’d you wait?” Robby asked. They were lying down in Duke’s bed, wearing nothing but boxers. If it were any other night, Robby could sleep. Just like this, curled up against Duke’s firm chest. He smelled like cigarettes and pine. Robby drank in the scent like the beers Duke bottle-fed him.
“Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.”
Patience was his test, and Robby was his reward.
Ten minutes became one.
“Will you kiss me, before it’s midnight?” Robby wasn’t sure why he wanted it. Maybe he wanted to feel the thrill. The excitement of breaking the rules. Maybe the fact that it was wrong made it that much better. Maybe he liked the idea of Duke losing his control and taking him just as he could have the day they met.
“Say please,” Duke whispered.
“Please, daddy.”
Twenty-three seconds.
Twenty-three seconds of pure bliss.
Fifteen, three hundred and sixty-four days, twenty-three hours, fifty-nine minutes, and thirty-seven seconds.
Twenty-three seconds, and in the eyes of the state, he was no longer a boy; he was a man.
But he wouldn’t become one until Duke made him into one.
Kissing felt like everything else they did together, like something Duke wanted to do and Robby let happen. That made it sound like Robby didn’t want it, but by God, he did. But he liked to let go, to let Duke do whatever he wanted; all he had to do was be good, because Duke would take care of him.
“You sure you want this?” Duke whispered as he trailed his hand down Robby’s stomach, threatening to slip underneath the hem of his little blue boxer briefs.
“Yes, daddy.” Robby whimpered.
“Every year, on your birthday, this is all you’ll think of,” Duke whispered as he wrapped his hand around Robby’s cock through his underwear. “That’s what you want? Don’t you?”
“Yes,” Robby would give him everything, even his birthday.
“My sweet boy, daddy will take care of you.” Duke’s hand gripped Robby’s erection tighter, stroking him through the fabric. He could already feel him leaking out of his sensitive little cock. He was so pathetic, so easy, so new. Untouched. He wondered how many times his little boy had touched himself, wishing it were his hand instead.
“Promise?” Robby whimpered.
Duke hovered his lips over the skin of Robby’s neck, nodding his head as he touched him. “I promise.”
“Forever?” Robby begged.
“Forever,” Duke confirmed.
He was sixteen and two minutes old the first time Duke made him cum.
He was sixteen and nine minutes old the first time Duke slid inside him.
He spent seven minutes opening him up. His tongue swirling around Robby’s pretty little hole, his fingers sliding in and out of him like he was terrified of hurting his precious little pet. Out there in the world, he was cruel, heartless, and devoid of any compassion. But in bed, tucked away from the rest of the world, he was the gentlest lover Robby could ask for.
Robby couldn’t speak; his eyes were shut like he had forgotten how to open them. Little whimpers slipped out of his mouth, matching the steady beat of Duke’s hips as he fucked him.
“Good boy,” Duke’s hand wrapped back around Robby’s sensitive little cock, his thumb stroking the tip like he was fiddling around with a joystick.
Robby whined. “Feels weird, daddy,”
“It’s okay, baby. It’s supposed to,” Duke took careful breaths between every word. He was losing his mind. Every squirm of Robby’s body sent him clenching around his cock. “It just means you’re gonna cum again.”
“Again?” Robby whimpered. “I can’t.” He hiccuped.
“You can, puppy,” Duke smiled. He’d like nothing more than to spend all day overstimulating his sweet little boy until he found out just how many times he could cum before he passed out from exhaustion.
“Puppy?” Robby whimpered.
“Puppy,” Duke chuckled. He thrust a little harder and gripped his hand over the top of Robby’s sensitive head, stoking it like he was desperate to hear him cry.
Robby let out a choked sob. “I’m your puppy?”
“You’re my everything, kid.”
He was sixteen and twenty-two minutes old the second time Duke made him cum.
He was sixteen and twenty-three minutes old the first time Duke came inside him.