Box Shaped Heart Ch. 19

"Boss, can I go?" Mark said pleadingly. "This, this, and this, are for the photo shoot. The rest is for you. For personal use."

"Oh, stop fretting already," Carter chided him. "Okay, I'm not that dumb. I know what sexy lingerie is. Don't you have a girlfriend, Mark?"

"Um, no," Mark mumbled.

Of course, what was he thinking? They were in the fashion industry. Of course, Mark didn't have a girlfriend.

"Don't you have a boyfriend, then? I can share some of this lingerie, you know? It looks like they sent a ton," he fiddled with the contents of the box, wondering how he had managed to live for 32 years and have no idea guys could wear sexy undies, too.

"No, I don't have a boyfriend, either," Mark replied.

"Ah, don't worry, a nice guy like you, you'll find someone," Carter smiled at him. "Boy or girl, depending what you like. Do you like both?" it suddenly dawned on him.

Mark looked like he could swing both ways. And he was a nice guy.

"Actually, I'm asexual, boss," Mark replied with an apologetic smile.

"Asexual?" Carter stared at his secretary for two full seconds. "Like you don't like sex at all? Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to pry. Whatever floats your boat," he tried to make a quick exit out of the situation.

Shit, why was he tormenting his assistant over his sexuality now? The guy had probably suffered some trauma and it was not Carter's place to play shrink. Could he be more of an idiot?

"I didn't suffer any trauma," Mark spoke.

Was everything he was thinking printed in capital letters on his forehead? What the hell?!

"But, don't worry, boss, this is how I was made."

Made? Mark was a bit strange if he were to think about it. But, wait, he was not going to judge.

"Okay, Mark, don't mind me. Just pretend that we didn't have this conversation."

To make his words clear, he closed the top of the box and sat with his elbows on it. There, out of sight, out of mind. For now. The simple image of Aron wearing that kind of underwear was making him want to jump from one foot to another, like Mark earlier.

"Ah, don't worry, boss. I am not that comfortable with such things, but I have to be, seeing my current line of work," Mark smiled and clutched his folder case tightly. "Should I check with the seller to see if they have that in Aron's size?"

Now Carter felt the need to glare.

"Nope. I don't want my assistant to die of a heart attack due to spending too much time looking at sexy underwear. Now, shoo where you have to be, and take some time off to de-stress. You look a little pale. Are you eating right? You know what I told you about eating only junk food."

"Don't worry, boss. And I'm the one who's supposed to take care of you," Mark replied, looking a bit affronted.

"Okay," Carter raised his arms in surrender. "But please stop reading my mind already. It's a bit annoying."

"But that's what good assistants do!" Mark protested. "Now I'm going, boss, but, if you need me ..."

"Just go," Carter pointed the door. "And rest. And eat something green."

"Okay, boss, on my way," Mark waved and sauntered out of the room.

Wait, had the guy just admitted he was reading minds? But Mark was no longer in the room, so he could not ask him.

***

It had taken him a while to figure out how to drive to the club advertised by the card he had found in Aron's jeans, but now he was on his way there. He was going to be late home, but he needed to find out the truth. If Aron was a cheater ... No, that couldn't be.

His phone rang happily, getting on his nerves.

"Yeah?" he answered while kicking the car in high gear. This was going to take all day if he was going to drive like a grandma.

"I was hoping to see you home already," Aron spoke and chuckled. "Maybe in some of that sexy swimwear you wore today? I saw your Instagram posts, baby. Now I'm not that sure if I'm a jealous husband or not. So hurry up home already. I'm literally dying to give my megastar husband the attention he needs if you know what I mean," the man added, his words turned to drawled whispers.

He could ignore the goosebumps all over his arms, as Aron cooed into his ear. Phone sex was one thing. Phone sex and driving led to certain suicide.

"I have something I need to take care of," he replied. "We'll talk when I get home."

He surely hadn't wanted his words to sound so menacing, but that was how they turned out. Aron must have felt something was amiss, by the way silence stretched on the other end.

"You sound pissed," Aron spoke eventually.

"I have my reasons," Carter snapped.

How could Aron keep such a thing away from him? Wait, was he really thinking like a husband now? Placeholder, Carter, you are nothing but a placeholder.

Oh, snap, he needed to control himself. But he was pissed. Aron better not be a cheater, or he was in for more than just a smacked bottom. And if David was just a friend ... how the hell he, Carter, had no idea of such a friend?

"Care to explain?" Aron became serious.

"I will, once I get my facts straight," Carter replied. "I told you, we'll talk at home."

"You seem ready to rip me a new one," Aron joked.

"You have no idea," Carter replied.

"Ugh, now I'm starting to get worried," Aron spoke.

"Then you know what you did," Carter said in an accusing tone. "Now get off the phone. I'm in traffic, and I shouldn't talk to you anyway."

"Okay," Aron admitted. "Don't be late. And take care. You should not drive if you're upset ..."

"I'm not made of glass, Aron," Carter replied, a bit too harshly.

What the fuck? Was he judging Aron without first checking the facts? Why was he so pissed anyway? If Aron was a cheater, he was cheating on his husband, no one else. By all means, it wasn't Carter's business. But damn if he was letting this go. He needed to find out who the fuck David was and what kind of fun Aron was having with the guy.

"Talk to you at home," he added and turned off the phone.

He had no intention to answer again, and he really needed to pay attention to the road ahead.

***

The club was not yet open for business, it seemed, but Carter found himself inside, without anyone telling him he was not supposed to be there. The man tending the bar was focused on cleaning a tall glass to perfection and was staring at it with a critical eye. Well, since there was no one else to ask, he decided the barman had to do.

"Hey, man," he called, and the guy looked over at him.

"We're not open yet, but I think I can accommodate you, pretty," the barman winked at him, and placed the glass on the counter. "What's your pleasure?"

"No, I'm not here to drink, I'm driving," Carter replied, annoyed and flattered in equal parts by the way the guy was staring at him. "But I'm here to see someone. A guy named David. I think he's a regular."

"Sweetheart, do you think people walk in here and offer their real names? And there are plenty of Davids hanging around here. Did he say you two would meet up here? He might have stood you up," the barman drew a long sigh and stared at Carter in fake pity. "As I said, we can accommodate you with everything you need. And by that, I really mean everything," the guy leaned over the counter and caressed Carter's arm in passing.

"Well, it's this guy," Carter took out his phone and showed the barman the picture he had transferred from Aron's e-mail.

The barman stood up straight like he was a spring based toy.

"That's the boss," he replied, a bit clipped. "Why didn't you say you wanted to see the owner?"

"Well, I just know his name," Carter said. "We didn't speak that much."

The man gave him an odd look like he could not believe someone was looking for his boss. Carter could feel getting a bit nervous under that gaze. It was clear that the barman was getting suspicious of him. A few seconds passed, and now he was wondering if he was going to be given the boot. A guy who ran a BDSM club probably had the means and the tools to punish anyone he didn't like.

"Ah," the guy' face suddenly lit up. "I know who you are. I thought you looked familiar. Aron's husband!" the guy exclaimed. "I'll let David know you're here. Don't go, please," the man urged him as he stepped out from behind the corner.

Well, he wasn't going anywhere. But come on, did everyone around here knew Aron was cheating on him and they even found it funny or something?

He's not cheating on you, he's - presumably! - cheating on Alex.

Hello, I'm the placeholder, so I need to solve this shit.

If he were to think with the rational part of his brain, the truth was that he should have been happy with the bartender's reaction. People around here knew Aron was married, and they didn't seem to find it odd that he was here. So nothing was pointing out that Aron was a cheater. All good for now. And he was really curious about this David dude.

"Come, come," the bartender called for him. "David is waiting for you in his office."

The barman almost pushed him through a door, and Carter found himself in front of an impressive mahogany desk behind which sat the man he had wanted so much to meet. The guy looked like in that picture, except that he wasn't smiling, and he was checking his visitor with critical eyes. David had a commanding presence, Carter thought, as he tried to square his shoulders and not look very intimidated.

He was a bit startled when the barman closed the door behind him, leaving him alone with the man. Throwing furtive looks around, he wondered whether he was really expecting to see flogging whips, canes, and other punitive devices hanging from the ceiling. If anything, the place looked elegant and maybe a bit lavish, with heavy furniture, and plush carpets the color of old wine.

"Alex Ruskin," the host was first to speak.

"David," he replied in kind. He had no idea if he had read the guy's last name anywhere. Well, he was at a bit of a disadvantage here.

"Should I ask to what exactly do I owe the honor?" the man asked, a tad scathingly.

Hmm, this guy had no lost love for Alex; that was for sure.

"To nothing else than the fact that my husband is cheating on me. With you," he pointed at a guy, hoping that he looked pretty much like the embodiment of indignation.

"Aron? Cheating?" David smiled thinly and his eyebrows shot up in amusement. "Do you really think that?"

The man began pouring himself a drink in a large glass. He made a small gesture as if he was inviting Carter to have one, too.

Carter chose to shake his head. This encounter was nothing like he had imagined.

"Please, have a seat. That if your righteous indignation allows you."

Well, truth be told, he didn't feel that much righteous indignation right now. And that came like a bit of a surprise. Nah, nah, nah, he wasn't going to let himself fooled. He needed to act like a jealous husband here, and be a little irrational.

"I think I'll stand," he refused.

"Well, Alex, now that you came knocking down my door, come on, out with it," David swirled the drink in his glass.

"Out with what?" Carter shook his head, surprised.

David chuckled.

"I must say, you're nothing like I imagined, from what Aron told me."

"And how did you imagine me?" Carter crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, pretty much like a wild cat," David stared at him, evaluating him with his piercing blue eyes. "You seem pretty tame. Three minutes in my office and you are yet to break anything."

Break? Carter looked around. Well, that Chinese vase did look expensive. David followed his eyes and sighed.

"Not that I suggest you start doing that."

"Hey, I'm civilized," Carter raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not going to break anything."

That vase was probably worth more than what he could make in three months. He, as Carter, not as Alex. Alex could probably afford to break expensive Chinese vases.

"Well, Aron did tell me of your suspicions," David spoke. "So, the moment I heard you're here to see me, I thought I would have to call security to keep you off of me," he added with a small smile.

Wow. He could not imagine that strongly built man afraid of a skinny asshole like Alex.

"Really, man?" he snorted. "I'm no match for you."

"Ah, well, hell hath no fury," the man shrugged.

"I'm not a woman," Carter said sharply.

"No, you're not. You're worse," David said back, with the same unnerving, all-knowing smile.

"Okay, that vase suddenly looks like it's not sitting too pretty over there," Carter threatened.

David burst into laughter.

"Seriously, I don't understand why Aron said you're hard to deal with. I find you pretty manageable," the man leaned into his lavish armchair and gave him a slow once-over that made Carter feel goosebumps everywhere.

There was something about this dude that was making him feel fidgety.

"Now, I insist, please sit down, and let's have a little chat," the man offered.

Well, David had a point. With a small shrug, he walked over the room and sat on one of the guest chairs. Hmm, velvet? That felt pretty nice under his fingers.

"This shit must have cost a fortune," he murmured.

David chuckled again.

"Yes, definitely, you are completely different from what I gathered from Aron. Now, Alex, seeing that I can carry a decent conversation with you, tell me, what makes you think your husband is cheating? I won't even say with me, I want to say at all."

"Well, he disappeared for the entire weekend and he was with you," Carter began explaining.

"Okay."

"Okay? Is this everything you can say?"

"It is true. Aron was here this last weekend."

"Ah, so you don't deny it. Frankly, man, don't you have anything better to do than steal other guys' husbands?" he asked, now annoyed with the man's admission.

"I didn't steal anyone. Not that it would be impossible. But Aron is faithful to you."

Aha! Just as he had thought. Aron was not a cheater.

"Are you just going to believe me?" David grinned. "You look so happy now like I just told you Santa Claus was real."

Carter frowned. Okay, okay, he was going at this completely unprepared, and this guy was a fucking weasel. Although a weasel was not the type of animal to compare David to. He looked more like a ... bear?

"Come on, man, I'm just pulling your leg," David joked. "You don't look like a guy who thinks his husband is cheating on him. Frankly, I think you're just curious. Should I introduce you to my club?"

"No way," Carter put his hands up. "Stop derailing the conversation. What was Aron doing all weekend here if he wasn't cheating?"

"Ah, so you don't think Aron is a cheater," the man looked at him to confirm.

"No, I don't. I know Aron well," Carter said without hesitation, earning another surprised look from his host. "But I still want to know why he comes here."

This time, David didn't laugh at him and didn't dodge the question.

"Aron needs a friend," David said simply.

"And you're his friend?" Carter asked, now feeling a short pang of jealousy. A real one.

"Yes, I am. He told me I'm his best friend and the first person to trust ever since he fell out with that childhood friend of his, Carter. You know, the one who's supposedly a homophobe."

"Supposedly?" Carter snorted.

"I have my own theories regarding that fellow, but that is not why you're here, right?" David asked.

Actually, he would have liked to hear those theories, but, since he was walking in Alex's shoes, he had to put any personal considerations aside.

"All right, so you're friends. That's not reason enough for him to leave his home and spend days away from his husband," Carter made his case.

"You're putting Aron through a lot, Alex," David said sharply. "He married you, he fucks only you. Stop being jealous of a shadow."

"What shadow?" he asked, scandalized.

"I'm talking about Carter. Aron was honest with you, he told you about his crush, but that was all in the past. If he moved on, so should you. To think that he trusted you with this only so you can use it against him," the man was now looking at him with judgmental eyes.

"I didn't!" Carter protested.

Just how much did Aron share with this guy? It was like David was his personal shrink or something.

"Really?" David linked his fingers and stared at him.

"Well, he ... misunderstood," he tried to offer an explanation.

David shook his head slowly.

"Your husband loves you, Alex. He tries a lot. Stop doing things that are driving him away from you. Even a man like Aron has his limits. You're lucky."

"What do you mean by that?" Carter mumbled.

Funny how chastised he felt, and he wasn't even the real Alex.

"You're lucky that his friend Carter was dumb as a brick back in the day."

He could feel a huge lump in his throat. What was this guy talking about?

"I don't want to know," he looked away.

He did, but he wasn't here for that.

"But now I want to know. What kind of fun did you two have all weekend?" he returned to his initial righteous indignation state.

"Are you sure you're ready to be introduced to the kind of fun I'm talking about?" David smiled.

"Try me," Carter smirked.

Hell, he wasn't here to back down. He was here to learn the truth, no matter how strange. Nothing could scare him. He was practically still tumbling down the rabbit's hole.

"Are you familiar to BDSM?" David asked directly.

Carter shrugged.

"Heard about it. Wait, is Aron into this kind of stuff? He didn't even let me spank his ass," he blurted out.

Oops. Eh, Aron had confessed much more intimate things when talking to this guy. At this point, it felt as if he was visiting a marriage counselor.

"How did you two get there?" David laughed. "But that kind of question, you should ask your husband. I only invited him to watch."

"Ah, damn, don't tell me he got a lap dance from one of those guys all dressed in leather belts," Carter expressed his concern.

"Does Aron know you're reading his e-mails?" David threw him an odd look.

"Yeah, I mean, he had the same password since ..."

Oh. Fucking. Shit.

"I'm surprised. He told me he didn't want you snooping around, and that you two try to respect each other, as far as these things are concerned. He swore to you that he would trust you. And he expects the same thing back."

"Ah, well, I convinced him," Carter said quickly.

How much of a moron could he be?

"Wait, stop distracting me. How does Aron have fun here? Does he get spanked? Are you tying him up to a metal stand and don't let him pee or something?"

David's eyes were growing wide as the guy was looking at him, clearly astonished with whatever came out of Carter's mouth.

"Are you attracted to this lifestyle, Alex? You're grossly misinformed, but I do sense an enthusiasm in you that can only mean that you're interested," the man joked. "Let's not torture you anymore. Aron comes here to watch, and only to watch, as I told you. Now seriously, you can't be mad at him. You don't let him watch porn, and you're worse than a frigid housewife. The guy has needs. I can assure you that he didn't do anything that could count as cheating."

"Frigid housewife?" Carter protested. "I'll have you know that ever since Aron came back on Sunday, we did it ... well, if it counts that I did him, too, that's ... and oral ... and that thing between the butt cheeks ... that amounts to ..." he muttered to himself while counting.

He proudly showed David his stretched fingers. The man was staring at him in pure shock.

"Did you top Aron?" the man exclaimed.

"Duh," Carter replied. "That thing's like the tightest hole in ..."

Oh, damn. He was again, a major idiot.

"It's tight," he added quickly. "Like fucking amazing. And Aron's my husband. It's like my right to fuck him. I fuck him legally," he started to babble.

"No one's contesting that," David shook his head as if he felt suddenly trapped into a strange dream. "I'm glad for you. It means you've finally wakened up."