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Textual Confusion 9. Come and get me, Daddy. 39%
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9. Come and get me, Daddy.

CHAPTER NINE

COME AND GET ME, DADDY.

If Markus was expecting a coherent explanation for the picture on his phone – the one that Asher had supposedly sent him – he was barking up the wrong tree. A very, very inebriated tree for that matter. Asher. He was the tree.

“I’m a tree.”

“What?”

Markus’s frown seemed to be a permanent thing at this point, the wrinkles in his brow growing more and more pronounced the longer they spoke, and Asher couldn’t resist the urge to reach out any longer. He brought his hands to Markus’s face, attempting to smooth out the lines with his fingers.

Markus didn’t make any move to stop him.

“A pine tree,” Asher clarified, his fingers wandering from the man’s brow of their own volition, running over Markus’s cheeks and nose, his stubbled jaw line. “You know, the kind that smell like Christmas and have pokey needles. Like these.” He thumbed the prickly, half-formed beard on Markus’s chin.

Markus carefully captured him by the wrists and placed Asher’s hands in his lap. He’d sat down on the stool beside him at some point, and Asher couldn’t help but admire the way his slacks stretched over his muscled thighs.

“Asher,” Markus snapped, “look at me.”

Drunk as he was, the instinct to submit to Markus, to please him, was still there, and Asher reluctantly tore his gaze away from Markus’s lap.

“You’re so hot,” he blurted.

Markus closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in through his nose. “Thank you,” he offered tightly after a moment, “but I need you to focus, alright? Did you take something while you were out tonight? A capsule or pill, maybe?”

Asher blinked. “You mean, like, Tylenol?”

“No,” Markus managed to push out through gritted teeth, “I mean, like, ecstasy.”

Asher could feel his eyes widen. “Drugs are bad,” he offered sagely. “I made a pledge in the sixth grade to never try them.” A pause. “Well, I did accidentally try pot once when Sasha made these special brownies, and I guess alcohol is technically a drug…” he trailed off.

Markus had released his wrists at some point during his Asher’s spiel to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. Which was a mistake. Because Asher immediately used the opportunity to squeeze the man’s thighs. “They’re so firm ,” he muttered in amazement.

Markus immediately recaptured his hands. “Something else is going to be firm soon if you don’t quit,” he warned before turning his attention to the bartender who'd wandered over to them with a confused frown on her face and two shot glasses in her hands.

“Where’s your friend who ordered the shots?”

Asher’s eye lit up. “Shots!”

“Those aren’t for you, sweetheart,” Markus said before immediately before turning towards the bartender and using a completely different tone. “Get those the fuck out of here. Can’t you tell he’s had enough?”

The bartender gaped for a second before recovering. “O-oh. I’m sorry.”

“And what the hell have you been serving him all night? He’s wasted.”

She shuffled in obvious nervousness. “Uh, it’s been r-really busy, so I’m not really sure-”

“Tequila,” a familiar, feminine voice spoke up, saving the wide-eyed bartender from what was inevitably going to be a dressing down of epic proportions. “ Lots of tequila.”

Asher turned and offered Sasha a dopey smile, and she affectionately poked his cheek. “Probably five or six shots of it,” she clarified, resting her chin atop Asher’s head as she eyed Markus. “Plus, you know, the vodka.”

Asher wasn’t sure why Markus’s jaw was suddenly clenched so tightly, but he figured it had something to do with the way Sasha was draped all over him as she nuzzled her nose into his hair. A muscle in the man’s cheek ticked.

“Is that why he’s acting like this?” Markus asked after a moment.

“Yep!”

“I suppose that’s also why he sent me this.”

Markus held up his phone, his screen displaying the same picture he’d shown to Asher earlier.

The Holy Grail. Come and get me, Daddy, before someone else snatches me up.

“Hey, that’s me,” Asher chirped, pointing at himself.

He was definitely not a tree. “I’m pretty.”

“The prettiest,” Sasha immediately agreed before turning sharp, expectant eyes onto Markus. “Isn’t he?” she pressed.

Markus slid his phone back into his pocket. “He is,” he agreed, gaze fixated on Asher. The man reached forward and tucked a stray curl behind one of his ears. “Positively gorgeous.”

Asher beamed, but pouted when Markus tore his gaze away from him to focus on Sasha. “He didn’t send me that picture, did he?”

Sasha grinned, her smile all teeth. “Nope.”

“I take it you must be Sasha then.”

“So Asher has mentioned me.”

“Of course.”

“Then you know that I’m his very protective best friend.”

“Is there a reason you sent me that message?” Markus asked.

“Yeah, I wanted to show you what you were missing out on when you decided to ghost Asher today,” Sasha said bluntly. Her arms tightened where they were wrapped around Asher’s shoulders.

Markus frowned. “I didn’t-”

“You didn’t what? Leave him on read the entire day? Newsflash, whether you two are in a real relationship or not, that shit hurts.”

Markus looked frustrated. “It was never my intention to hurt Asher.”

Asher probably would have been mortified by the conversation currently taking place if he wasn’t so distracted by the way the strobe lights kept reflecting off of Markus’s watch. It was so pretty that he couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and touch the diamond-encrusted face.

Markus let him.

“I don’t care what your intentions were,” Sasha snapped. “Asher has always had the shittiest taste in men. I’m not about to let him get hurt by yet another asshole.”

“What do you mean he’s been hurt?” Markus demanded. “By who? When?”

The man clenched his hands into white-knuckled fists, and he sounded distressed, which was enough to prompt Asher to finally look up and attempt to focus.

“What’s wrong?” he asked sweetly.

It was almost comical the way Markus immediately softened. “Nothing, honey. Here, you like this? Want to keep playing with it?” He gestured to his watch before beginning to unclasp it from his wrist.

Asher nodded eagerly, offering a sweet “thank you” when Markus strapped it to his wrist.

“Did you just give him your fucking Rolex?” Sasha asked, who’d been watching the scene in silent disbelief. “You know what? I take back what I said. You’re clearly whipped as fuck.”

After making sure Asher was once again distracted by the watch, Markus shot her an unimpressed look. “Who hurt him?” he demanded, apparently unwilling to be distracted from the topic at hand.

“It’s not my story to tell,” Sasha said.

“That’s not good enough.”

Sasha pursed her lips. “Look, it’s obvious to me that you care about him, but that shit is personal. The only reason I told you he’s been hurt at all is because I wanted to scare you away.”

Markus scowled. “What? Why?”

“Because I thought that this thing between you was just a business arrangement in your eyes, and while Asher likes to pretend he can do things like continuously sleep with the same man without letting feelings get involved, I’m not so sure he can. He feels things with his whole heart.” Sasha paused. “I was going to tell you to end things if you couldn’t deal with that… but I don’t think I have to worry about you breaking his heart, after all, do I?”

A tension-filled pause.

“No.”

Sasha smiled, the expression much more genuine than the first grin she’d offered the man. “Then I think we’ll get along just fine.” She released Asher to turn around and yell at someone on the other side of the bar. “Danny! Grow a pair and come say hi to your boss!”

Danny’s gait was somehow both reluctant and harried as he rushed over.

“Danny!” Asher greeted excitedly.

“Uh, hey, Asher,” he replied awkwardly. “Mr. Kingston.” He bowed. “It’s, um, surprising to see you here.”

“I can imagine, considering the way you had yourself plastered all over Asher on the dance floor earlier.”

Danny’s face reddened. “We’re just friends! More like brothers, really! And did I mention I’m straight?” He curled a desperate arm around Sasha’s waist and pulled her to his side. “This is my girlfriend, Sasha.”

“We’re acquainted,” Markus offered blandly. “And I’ve never seen anyone dance with their brother like that before.”

“I-I don’t-” Danny stuttered.

Sasha snorted. “As entertaining as this is, Danny and Asher really are like brothers. And as Danny’s girlfriend, I politely request that you do not tear off his dick and feed it to him.”

“What?!” Danny all but shrieked.

“No promises,” Markus said, straight-faced, and Danny looked horrified.

It made Asher upset. He took Markus’s hand. “Please don’t hurt him,” he begged.

“Of course not, sweetheart.”

Danny’s jaw slackened and he gaped at the pair for a solid few seconds before turning to Sasha. “Is this really happening right now?”

Sasha nodded, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “I know. Totally whipped, right?”

Markus glared at them, and Danny immediately came to his boss’s defense. “O-of course not! He’s just, you know-”

“Unreasonably accommodating to Asher’s every whim?” Sasha suggested.

“I wouldn’t say that , per se-”

Asher yawned. He had tuned out of the conversation happening around him a while ago, and he had no idea what they were talking about, but his friends’ antics were starting to give him a headache.

He sighed, slouching sideways and resting his forehead against Markus’s broad chest. “I’m tired,” he mumbled.

“Want to go home?” Markus asked.

Asher nodded.

“I’m taking Asher home,” Markus announced, disrupting whatever petty squabble Danny and Sasha were having and helping Asher stand.

“You mean to his apartment?” Sasha asked.

“I mean to my apartment.”

Sasha pursed her lips and looked the man up and down, analyzing. “Okay. But if I find out you touched him without his explicit consent, which, by the way, drunk people can’t give, I’ll make good on that whole macho make-you-eat-your-own-dick thing.” A pause. “And I’ll make sure your mother’s watching, too,” she tacked on.

“Sasha,” Danny hissed, staring at his girlfriend with wide eyes. “You can’t just say stuff like that. Apologize, please -”

Markus held up a hand and Danny immediately snapped his mouth shut. But Markus wasn’t even looking at Danny, he was focused on Sasha.

“The only reason I’ve put up with your shenanigans so far is because I’m thankful that Asher has such a good friend who looks out for him. But don’t mistake my appreciation for leniency. You ever imply that I would hurt Asher that way again, and any tolerance I’ve shown you thus far will be gone.”

Drunk as he was, even Asher could feel the tension emulating between the two. But just as soon as it’d come, it disappeared. Sasha seemed approving even as she nodded. “Okay,” she agreed easily enough before turning to Asher and pulling him into a tight embrace. “I like this one,” she whispered into his ear before releasing him.

After saying their goodbyes, Markus curled a supportive arm around Asher’s waist and half-walked/half-dragged him out of the club. He vaguely recognized the man’s driver when he hurried out of the vehicle to greet them. “Sirs!”

Asher offered him a dopey wave. “Nigel, I like-” hiccup “-your tattoo,” he said, pointing to the snake peeking above his collar. “And snakes.” A pause. “And cocks.”

He’s not sure why that was related, but it was.

Nigel blinked in shock before glancing nervously in Markus’s direction. Then he paled. Instead of responding to Asher’s oversharing, he quickly opened the door for the pair.

Which was great.

Except that Asher was currently clinging to Markus like a koala baby clung to its mother, and he didn’t want to let go. Thankfully, it only took a little whining when Markus attempted to get Asher to release him for the man to give in and essentially carry Asher into the car.

Asher ended up perched on Markus’s lap, nuzzling his face into the man’s neck as Nigel started the car. He couldn’t help but notice how good the man smelled. If pressed to describe it, Asher would say it was sandalwood, with a hint of amber. And something under that too – something salty that screamed man . It made Asher feel dizzier than even the alcohol had.

“You smell so good,” he mumbled, having lost his filter long ago. He buried his nose into the juncture of the man’s neck and shoulder to get a better whiff. “Makes me want to lick you.”

So that’s what Asher did. He pressed his tongue flat against the man’s jugular and licked a long stripe up his neck.

Markus stiffened beneath him, immediately prying Asher’s face away from his neck. “That’s enough of that now, baby.” He reached across the spacious back seat to pull a latch Asher hadn’t noticed the last time he’d been in the man’s car. “Here,” he said, reaching into the frickin’ cooler that had been revealed and pulling out a bottle of water. He pressed it into Asher’s hand. “Drink some water.”

After going on about how awesome Markus’s car was for an entire five minutes, Markus finally convinced Asher to take a few sips. But only if Markus held the bottle for him as he drank.

“You’re spoiled rotten,” the man complained, but the affection in his voice gave him away. When he finally drank enough water to appease him, he allowed Asher to curl back up onto his lap, but with strict instructions of no licking.

Apparently, wiggling wasn’t allowed either, because after a few minutes of him constantly shifting, Markus placed his hands on Asher’s hips, holding him still. “Enough.”

He seemed… tense.

Asher frowned. “Are you mad at me?” he asked.

Several emotions flashed through Markus’s eyes at that, but Asher doubted he’d have been able to name them even if he was sober.

“Why would I be mad?”

Sober Asher would probably have some ideas. For getting so drunk. For acting ridiculous. For being so sensitive and clingy and annoying when the extent of their relationship revolved around a business contract obliging Asher to be at Markus’s beck and call for sex.

Drunk Asher wasn’t so thoughtful. Or eloquent.

“I dunno.”

“No, I’m not mad.”

“Oh. Good.” Asher laid his head down on Markus’s chest. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Fingers carded soothingly through Asher’s hair, making him drowsy. Everything felt suddenly heavy . He didn’t think he could lift his head if he tried. Even his eyelids felt like weights had been glued to them.

Eventually, it became too much work to keep his eyes open, and it didn’t take long after that for the sound of Markus’s heart beating beneath his ear to lull Asher to sleep.

He never even heard Markus’s response.

“I’m glad I’m here, too.”

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