Caught in the Act

Jeremy stood in the middle of the living room, his stomach tightening in fear until he thought he just might have to make a run for the bathroom.

"Ry, man, I'm really sorry. You were drunk, I was drunk, let's just let this one go," Jeremy practically begged as he turned away from the damning evidence on the computer screen. Even on the small screen he could see Ryan's head lolling to one side in a drunken stupor as Jeremy got down between the drunk man's legs.

"A mistake. You fucking ass. That's not a mistake, that's a sexual assault," Ryan snapped back, and Jeremy flinched at the anger in Ryan's green eyes. Looking at the computer monitor, he had to admit that undressing the man and playing with his cock until it was half hard might technically have been an assault. Maybe. Jeremy watched the screen and groaned in both fear and need as he watched himself slip off his own shirt and bend down to take Ryan's cock in his mouth.

God, what was wrong with him? He had the classic good looks: the strong chin, the dark brown eyes, the nearly black hair, the washboard abs and a back rippling with muscle. Most of the women on campus had thrown themselves at him... or at least many had. Others enjoyed pointing out how they were too sophisticated and worldly to fall for his puppy dog eyes and boyish smile. But instead of taking up any of those women, here he was caught on webcam assaulting his slightly nerdy roommate. Shit. He needed therapy, and if Ryan reported this to the university, therapy and expulsion and possibly prison were in his future.

"Ryan, man," Jeremy started again.

"Save it," the smaller man said in a tightly controlled voice. "You weren't even drunk either. You were up and working out this morning, and you *never* do that after drinking, so don't give me that bullshit." Ryan shook his head and for a brief moment, Jeremy saw the pain and fear and shame flash across those familiar features. Jeremy suddenly felt like an ass.

"I didn't mean—" he waved toward the computer where his unwanted blow job continued despite Ryan's utter lack of participation.

"What? You didn't think the camera was on? You didn't think you'd get caught? You didn't think I'd mind? Which 'you didn't' are you going to go for?" Ryan demanded, his face suddenly twisted in fury as he reached up and brushed his unruly brown curls back out of his face.

"I just—" Jeremy let his voice fade off since he really didn't have an answer. He didn't think about that damn web camera at all or he obviously would have checked it. Checked it, turned off the camera, flushed out the memory cache, and burned the damn mother board to boot. Obviously, he'd skipped thinking about the getting caught part, but then Ryan could drink himself into oblivion.

"What are you going to do?" Jeremy asked as he bit his lip. He looked up at his roommate, his friend... his victim. Ryan's fury evaporated into a look of confusion and fatigue. Ryan pushed long curls of hair back away from his face.

"I don't know," he confessed as he glanced over at the damning evidence.

"If you want me to move out, you got it. Just tell me what you want me to do, man, and I'll make this up to you," Jeremy practically begged as he stepped forward. He flinched back again when his movement made Ryan retreat around the far side of the couch, putting the overstuffed monstrosity between them as he held up a hand as though to push Jeremy away. A little part of him complained at the unfairness. If that were Cindy Darnel on her knees, Ryan would brag about it. Then again, Jeremy had learned a long time ago that life wasn't fair.

"Just... I can't deal with this right now. You are a grade-A asshole, and I'm really not thinking much beyond that right now," Ryan said as he stepped backwards towards the door, grabbing his coat off the equally overstuffed and ugly chair as he pulled on the doorknob.

"Ryan," Jeremy said softly, dying that his best friend would be so afraid of him. He had always loved the way Ryan would physically retaliate when he would give his friend a noogie or pulled his hair. Even though he was a full head shorter, Ryan gave as much as he took, a fact that Ryan attributed to growing up the youngest child in a family with four older sisters.

Ryan paused for a moment, holding the door open as he looked at Jeremy with sad eyes. Then he pulled the door shut and Jeremy was alone. Jeremy looked around the small living room, the monitor was silent, but it still showed Jeremy on his knees, Ryan's soft cock filling his mouth, and Jeremy's nose pressed all the way down to Ryan's curled pubic hair. Okay, the computer only showed Jeremy's back as Ryan stirred fitfully, but Jeremy's memory filled in the other details.

Jeremy walked over and clicked the mouse to stop the program. As the viewing window closed, the menu came up and Jeremy sank down on the computer chair as he looked at the index of files. Jeremy and Ryan setting off illegal fireworks, Ryan trying to cook some dinner only to fill the apartment with smoke, and Jeremy assaulting his best friend. He took the mouse and hovered over the filename. WTF. Ryan hadn't lost his sense of humor even when outraged.

Sitting there, Jeremy considered possible outcomes. He could delete the file, pull out the mother fucking mother board and smashed it, and Ryan might still press charges. If the cops could recover the data or if Ryan had backed it up, Jeremy would be even more screwed than ever. Even if destroying the motherboard did destroy the evidence, Ryan would be publicly humiliated, and Jeremy would be either ostracized or tormented by most of the student body. Even worse, he would never see his friend again. Leaning back in his chair, Jeremy considered the other option.

He left the file and showed Ryan that he would do whatever it took to earn his friend's trust back. Okay, if Ryan pressed charges, he was right back to the screwed option. If Ryan didn't, maybe they could still repair their friendship. Ryan clicked the program closed without deleting anything. Then he wandered to his bedroom to start sorting through his stuff. He suspected he was going to be moving out, one way or another.

Jeremy came through the apartment door and half expected to find cops waiting for him. He'd avoided the apartment most of the day, and now the late afternoon sun had warmed the brisk winter air. Instead he found an empty apartment, just like when he'd gone to bed last night and just like he'd found when he woke up this morning.

Jeremy tossed his gym bag on the floor as he dropped his coat and pulled his t-shirt over his head, using it to wipe his neck after a strenuous workout. He called out for Ryan as he headed for the tiny kitchen, but only silence answered.. They'd rented the apartment after sharing a dorm room for two years, so it seemed huge at the time, but now the apartment definitely didn't feel big enough for both of them.

The couch and chair filled nearly the whole living room, which is why they had no coffee table. The place where a dining room table should sit had that damning computer with the webcam sitting on top. A pillar and a bar-height counter separated the space from the kitchen which had almost no counter space. However, the place had two large bedrooms with two walk-in closets and two bathrooms, and that had sealed the deal. Some of Jeremy's happiest moments had been in this little apartment and he couldn't believe he had just royally fucked it all up. Hell, as often as his dad had accused him of being the fuck-up king, he shouldn't be surprised. Jeremy turned that thought and its attached emotions off before he lost control.

By the time he noticed the note sitting in the middle of the small counter dividing the kitchen from the dining room/office, he had gotten a roast beef sandwich and half a glass of milk down. Really he wanted a beer, but he didn't really want to smell of alcohol if he was going to be talking to cops. He reached out and slid the paper closer to him so he could read Ryan's cramped handwriting.

Jeremy, We need to talk, but I don't really trust you right now. So, go look on your bed and you will find some stuff. If you want to talk, leash yourself to the kitchen pillar and handcuff your hands behind your back. If you don't want to, then I'll give you until tomorrow morning to go to the police before I do. They'll go easier if you confess.

A third and fourth reading didn't reveal any hidden meanings, and Jeremy felt his stomach tighten. Funny, no way Ryan understood how this would affect him, but Jeremy could feel his cock harden, and man he was one sick puppy. Ryan was so scared of him that the man couldn't be in the same room, and the only thing Jeremy's cock cared about was being handcuffed and helpless. If Ryan didn't force him into therapy, maybe he needed to find some on his own. Finishing off the milk, Jeremy headed into the bathroom to jerk off before following Ryan's instructions.

Walking through his bedroom, he glanced at the unmade bed, and a plain leather collar and leash lay there. These weren't the fancy studded and locking collars he'd seen on websites, but the plain and sturdy type meant for large dogs. The leash had heavy metal links with a handle made of thick leather riveted three times. Jeremy picked them up in his hands, feeling the weight of them, the smooth and stiff leather, the cool metal links sliding over his palm.

Slipping his shirt off, he went in the bathroom and looked in the mirror as he took the collar and put it around his neck, tightening it until he could feel the constriction when he swallowed. Ryan had already clipped the leash to the collar, and Jeremy let it trail down in front, feeling the links dangling against his bare skin. He had lifeguarded all summer and still had the tan now that the term had just ended. The silver chain glittered against his tan, the black leather handle hung down to the pocket of his jeans.

Jeremy slowly unfastened his jeans as he pretended that he was wearing the collar and leash not because his roommate was afraid of him but because Ryan wanted him collared and leashed. Toeing off his shoes, he pushed his jeans down until his very erect cock bounced free, bobbing in the air comically, and Jeremy had never been so hard in his life. He let himself pretend as he fisted his cock and looked in the mirror. Ryan had put the collar on him slowly after holding it up for Jeremy to kiss reverently. Ryan had buckled it and put a little gold padlock on it to remind Jeremy that he was owned, wanted, possessed. Ryan would pick up the leash and Jeremy would follow behind his master.

Jeremy exploded onto the side of his sink and up on the counter and sink, his orgasm not even giving him enough warning for him to make it to the toilet.

"Enjoy that one, buddy boy," Jeremy told his cock. "Where we're going, you're staying safely inside because those guys don't fuck around, and I don't intend on being just anyone's bitch." Jeremy grabbed toilet paper and wiped up his mess before dropping the stuff in the toilet and peeing.

Jeremy left his jeans on the floor of the bathroom as he went looking for something looser, something that wouldn't make it quite so obvious that he enjoyed being handcuffed and helpless. He ended up with a pair of jeans from high school and an old football jersey. The knee injury that had taken him out of the game had also meant that he had lost a little bulk in the last two years although he was getting back into shape faster than anyone had expected. Hopefully they would be large enough to keep him from embarrassing himself or Ryan.

Jeremy finally allowed himself to look at the handcuffs. Even though his cock was sated and soft, he still felt the old desires creep through his belly at the sight of that cold steel. Grabbing them quickly, he headed for the kitchen pillar, reviewing everything he knew about the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002 in an unsuccessful attempt to divert his attention away from the fact he was about to be at his roommate's mercy.

Jeremy pulled the computer chair closer to the pillar before he unclipped the leash. The pillar was really just a square exposed beam that made one side of the pass-though window between the kitchen and the tiny dining room he and Ryan had turned into an office. If he leashed himself, he wouldn't be able to sit on the floor since the pillar stopped at the counter and became solid wall. He also wouldn't be able to reach the phone or the computer. He'd be stuck standing at the wall between the kitchen and office as long as it took for Ryan to get home.

Jeremy looped the chain around the pillar and then threaded the clip through the handle before clipping it back on his collar. He backed away and found that he only had about three feet of freedom, enough to sit in the chair he had pulled up and enough room to pace one step forward and one step back. Of course now he could just reach up and unclip the leash. Jeremy stared at the cuffs in his hand before slowly ratcheting one side down on his left wrist. He shivered at the cold steel around his warm flesh and the clicking sound as he tightened the cuff one notch at a time.

Right. Time to do this. Jeremy took a deep breath and put his hands behind his back as he locked the other cuff around his right wrist. Almost instantly, Jeremy could feel his cock react to the helplessness. Anyone could walk through that door and he couldn't stop it. Even though he was six foot two and muscled and young and strong, he couldn't do anything handcuffed and leashed to a pillar.

Jeremy tried focusing on accounting law as he sat and waited for his roommate. With a jerk, he realized that he hadn't turned on a light or locked the door, but he couldn't fix either of those things now. Now he just had to wait, and he could feel his cock react to that fact. Sitting down, he found the counter from the pass through sort of poked the back of his head, so Jeremy leaned forward on the chair so that he could feel the collar and the handcuffs even more. Okay time to focus on implementation and interpretation of codes relating to partner rotation and transition during audit periods.

Jeremy had gotten up to allowable audit-related fees by the time he heard the key in the lock. He watched as Ryan accidentally locked the door before he figured out his mistake and turned the key again. The door swung open, and Jeremy bit his lip as he stayed in the chair. If Ryan was afraid of him, towering over the man wasn't going to help.

"Are you tied to the pillar?" Ryan asked as he stood at the doorway.

"Yeah."

"Handcuffed?"

"That too," Jeremy confirmed.

"Stand up and turn around, show me," Ryan ordered, and Jeremy shoved down a wave of desire. This wasn't about him getting his rocks off; this was about his best friend being afraid of him. Jeremy stood and turned around, sidestepping until the leash tightened so that Ryan could see both the cuffs and the chain.

The warm hands closing around the cuffs, pushing them one notch tighter came as a surprise, and Jeremy hissed in air.

"Too tight?" Ryan immediately asked.

"No, they're fine. You just surprised me."

"You surprised me. I thought for sure I'd come back to find you had trashed the computer, maybe that you had a couple of gym buddies here to convince me of the error of my ways," Ryan laughed, but the sound was tight and uncomfortable.

"I wouldn't do that to you," Jeremy said softly, not moving as Ryan stood behind him.

"I didn't think so, but I didn't really expect you to give me a blow job when I was out cold, either." Ryan's words faded a bit as he turned and walked back to the living room. Jeremy turned around and sat back down in the chair. "We need to talk about this," Ryan said in a firmer voice, and Jeremy waited for the questions to start.

"This is fucked up," Ryan suddenly burst out with as he stood up and hurried toward his bedroom. Jeremy ached with the need to follow and apologize, but he could only wait until Ryan finally reappeared in the hallway. It took a while.

"How long?" Ryan demanded as he stood in the short hall and faced Jeremy even while his eyes looked everywhere else.

"For what?" Jeremy asked, honestly confused.

"How long have you wanted to do that?" Ryan's words were clipped and angry, and Jeremy just dropped his eyes and braced himself for any possible punches as he told the truth.

"Since the day I walked into the dorm and found you on that ladder painting," he admitted.

"Fuck." Ryan's voice was shocked, but Jeremy counted the lack of punching as a point in his favor.

"What's your computer password?" Ryan asked as he came into the room and hit the power button on the computer.

"Ryan?" Jeremy asked slowly. He felt a creeping feeling of discomfort at that cold and clinical tone in his friend's voice.

"What's your fucking password?" Ryan demanded as he turned around. Jeremy flinched back.

"Ditka427," Jeremy answered quickly. He squirmed knowing what parts of the memory Ryan could access with that password. Of course, Ryan was good enough with computers that he could probably bypass Jeremy's password all together, but he had too much integrity to betray a friend like that. And yeah, Jeremy did see the irony in that.

Shifting so that he was staring at the closed living room drapes, Jeremy could hear Ryan's fingers tapping on the keyboard, short gasps telling him as Ryan found his more interesting bookmarks and saved graphics. After seeing that, no way was Ryan not turning him in. Outside, the sun faded and now the computer screen was the only source of light and Jeremy found himself staring into the dark. Suddenly Jeremy didn't need to review class material to push away those curls of lust because they had disappeared under the weight of Ryan's disapproval. He hadn't made many true friends in his life, and losing Ryan would be a major blow.

"Holy fuck," Ryan breathed. Jeremy didn't answer.

"Do you want—Jeremy!" Jeremy's eyes snapped back to Ryan as he sat on their stool in front of the computer. He realized too late he should have offered to give the chair back.

"What?" he asked in response to the tone of voice and Ryan's questioning look.

"Is this what you want? I have to tell you this doesn't look all that much fun from the point of view of the guy on his knees," Ryan said as he tapped the monitor with a dull echoing sound. Jeremy glanced at the picture. The advertisement for a cock cage showed a man clearly suffering, his hands gripping his knees and his cock red and purple with need. Jeremy shrugged.

"That is not an answer. Is this what you were fantasizing about when you were on your knees in front of me?" Ryan demanded. Jeremy avoided looking at his former friend as he nodded. Since it was too late to save the friendship or his clean criminal record, he might as well get rid of one burden by finally admitting his secret fantasy.

"That is messed up," Ryan said softly.

"I know," Jeremy answered.

"You know, growing up I thought my dad watched too much T.V," Ryan said as he closed the picture. Jeremy looked over in confusion at the sudden change in topic. "He always told up how this guy on television talked about being cured of smoking by having been locked in a closet and not allowed out until he smoked all of them. I don't even know the name of the damn show, but my dad trotted that out as the perfect example of fatherhood over and over. I stole the corner from my sister's birthday cake and tried to cover it up by spreading the frosting."

Jeremy stared at his roommate incredulously—Ryan was one of the smartest men he'd ever known and that was just dumb. Actually, the entire conversation had taken a turn for the dumb somewhere along the way. Ryan stopped telling the story and gave a little laugh.

"I was only six at the time," Ryan defended himself with a little of his ever-present humor creeping back in at the edges. "But my dad went out and bought another cake for my sister and made me eat the cake I'd ruined. I must have thrown up three times, and he just handed me more. God I hate yellow cake," Ryan shivered with revolt. "I think you see where I'm going."