Fist to the Heart Ch. 11

Ruslan grabbed Johnny by his shoulders, to stop him. "Seriously, Johnny, there's nothing to worry about. No one forces you into a suit. I would not do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. And we're just using regular forks in that home, I promise. Look, don't be embarrassed. This is absolutely huge. Papa wants to get to know you. And he had never met any of my lovers."

"We kind of already met. Me and him," Johnny said gruffly.

"I know." Ruslan rolled his eyes. "But I promise. This is different. Hey, I can barely wait to have you two properly introduced. And also, I so want you to meet Martin! He's the butler, but don't let the livery fool you. He's like family. What the hell am I saying? He is family! If I didn't know better, I'd say he and papa are married or something. Plus, they both love to box. They train weekly and everything. Come on, Johnny, just say 'yes'!"

***

Johnny wanted nothing more but to have the strength to run away. But that meant that he first needed to escape Ruslan's hands and that was definitely impossible because the pretty man had latched onto him, not wanting to let go, and was talking about his family so excitedly that his beautiful eyes were shining.

But, hell, he would make such a total fool of himself. Ruslan had no idea what he was talking about. Everything Johnny had in his wardrobe were sports shoes, tracksuits, jeans, and tees. There was no way he could have dinner with Douglas Kent dressed like he was about to hit the gym.

And the worst part was that he had to spell it for Ruslan to understand it. And he doubted that would make him feel too proud of himself. He would let down the pretty man this time around.

He grabbed Ruslan's head and looked him in the eyes. Damn, why were people so beautiful in the world? He couldn't think straight when he felt the smooth cheeks under his fingers, and he was looking into eyes so blue that he felt dizzy. "I'm not like you, pretty. I don't know what to do with myself at this fancy dinner."

"Papa will be upset. And I already promised. Oh, Johnny, stop fretting already. Papa is more laidback than you think. Why do you think his butler stays with us at the table? He's not that kind of aristocrat or whatever you're imagining. It is dinner in the family, and I mean it. Do you understand what this means?" Ruslan placed his hands on Johnny's wrists firmly, but with the intention to caress them. "Come on, do it for me. I want you to come with me. Don't make me drag you. It'll be hard, but I'll manage somehow. Ah, I know. I'll have papa send Martin to help me. I'm sure he can deal with you," he added with a mischievous smile.

Johnny groaned. "You're bent on laughing at my expense. And how do you think your old man will like seeing me in my jeans and tee at his dinner table?"

"Is this what's bothering you?" Ruslan exclaimed. "Let's go shopping!"

Johnny seriously needed to curb Ruslan's enthusiasm. "No," he said firmly.

Some of Ruslan's enthusiasm vanished. The shiny eyes became duller. And Johnny hated that. To be the cause of it.

"I suppose I got a little too carried away," Ruslan looked away, and his hands dropped by his sides.

Johnny wouldn't let it go, though. He forced Ruslan to look at him.

"You want me to do this fancy dinner? Okay, I'll do your fancy dinner. But don't go crazy, buy me stuff, and shit like that. If I'm going to look like a fool, at least I want to wear my own clothes."

Ruslan bit his bottom lip pensively. "Then you'll come?" he asked, his eyes shiny again with hope.

Johnny wanted to kiss him so badly right now. On his closed eyelids. On his nose. On his cheeks. And on his lips. "Yeah, if it's such a big thing for you," he said.

"Great." Ruslan placed a long kiss on his lips, ending it with a smack.

He thought he could get away now. Johnny had no plans of letting him do that. Ruslan yelped when he was swiftly manhandled and made to walk back to the bed.

Johnny liked it like crazy how well they fit in that bed. In any bed, if he thought better. He was resting on his forearms, catching Ruslan between them. And they were staring into each other's eyes until their breaths fell in synch. If Johnny were to believe in stupid fortunetelling crap, he would say he had met his half, the destined one or whatever because it was too freakish how he and this pretty man could be such a good fit for one another.

Was he letting his mind run away with him again? Maybe he needed to go to that fancy dinner, and see, outside the bedroom, that there was no way he and Ruslan were a fit. Whatever they were doing in the bedroom was one thing. Outside of it, there was the real world. And Johnny knew enough about the real world to be aware that that bitch always won.

"You have such a worried look on your face sometimes," Ruslan said slowly, caressing his face, drawing the deep frown between his eyes with cool fingers. "I should not pressure you into this. I'd rather still have you than let my family have you, even for one hour. There's no way I'd choose losing you, you know?"

There was no way he could answer that. What the hell was going on between him and Ruslan? Never before had anyone spoken to him nicely like that. It was dangerous to believe such words. But Johnny felt that danger had lost its shine ever since Ruslan Kent had walked into his life. Like nothing and no one could shine as brightly.

So he just dipped his head enough to kiss Ruslan. The pretty man responded eagerly, wrapping his hands around Johnny's neck, to pull him closer.

Damn, how could he so hard from just so little? Ruslan was quick to pull his cock out, giving it the skillful rub and squeeze, as Johnny was already used to by now.

And all the time, they were kissing, wrapping their tongues around one another and devouring each other as their next breath depended on that, on kissing until they could breathe no more.

"Fuck, do you think you could let me, pretty?" Johnny asked, as his hands got busy pushing the robe from Ruslan's body, to uncover the hot naked skin. "I need to fuck you right now."

"Don't ask. Just fuck me," Ruslan hurried him.

Johnny reached quickly for the lube on the nightstand. They were both going to go at it without too much preparation, and he felt guilty for it. Ruslan, however, seemed the more impatient of them both, as he managed to guide Johnny's lubed cock to his entrance and use it pretty much like a dildo, pushing it inside. His impatience made Johnny hiss, as the familiar warmth and tightness welcomed him.

"Don't worry, don't worry," Ruslan cooed like a mantra. "My body knows you, Johnny. It's all yours. Just make it yours already."

"Fuck, pretty," Johnny moaned, as he pushed into the willing body more through Ruslan's will than his own volition. "You're good to me, so good for me. I fucking want you," he admitted simply to his desire.

"Then take me already," Ruslan hurried him, shivering with each of Johnny's thrusts. "Fuck, this is so good. Your cock in me is just so good," he murmured, through small licks and bites he was using to attack Johnny's ear.

He didn't mind it. Ruslan was everything he wanted. Not just right now. He pushed his knees up and looked at how his cock was moving in and out that fantastic body. Ruslan's was rubbing his cock fast, and his soft inviting lips were moving, hurrying Johnny, praising him, encouraging him, and he couldn't think of anything else but what he could do to make this man happy.

When he crashed on top of his lover, making the fresh cum squeezed from Ruslan's cock act like binding between then, he knew he would endure more than just fancy dinners for this man. As long as Ruslan wanted him, he would be like a faithful dog. He would bring this man his fucking sleepers if that's what he wanted.

"Oh, Johnny," Ruslan murmured into his ear, "I love your cock in me."

For a second, his lungs, mind, and heart stopped. But of course, Ruslan loved how Johnny fucked him. That was something he was good at. And he could use it to make Ruslan happy, so happy that he would forget that there were other men in the world, except for Johnny.

"I'm afraid we'll need to get out of the bed, though. We have to wash and everything else," Ruslan mumbled.

"And I need to go to my place and get some clean clothes."

"Ah, don't leave," Ruslan protested and squeezed him in his arms as if Johnny got up that second and ran out the door.

"I will have to, though," Johnny replied as he caressed Ruslan's sweaty forehead and hair slowly. "I don't think your papa will like seeing Nigel's blood on my t-shirt."

Ruslan snickered. "You're underestimating papa. I bet he'd love to see that. You got Nigel good. Seeing how I can't lie to him about the whole incident since you snitched on me," he glared, "I bet he's now plotting some revenge that will leave Nigel's family beggars on the street."

"Wow. Remind me never to get on your old man's bad side," Johnny replied, although he felt happy to hear Ruslan was so well cared for.

"I'm just exaggerating. But I think he won't let the Davenports get out of this hassle that easily. He will squeeze some balls."

"That dude's family is bad news," Johnny said with a frown. "Can your dad take care of them? Because that would be awesome."

"I'm sure his word has plenty of weight in their rich people's world," Ruslan said with a small yawn.

Their rich people's world? Johnny wondered. Why wasn't Ruslan including himself in that world, too? Was he trying to make Johnny feel better about his lack of money and status? The thought was endearing. But Johnny didn't need anyone's pity.

"Ah, wait. I almost forgot," Ruslan said. "How come you know about Nigel's family?"

"Long story," Johnny replied curtly. He was about to have dinner with the old man, and he had been invited. At the moment, he wouldn't jinx his chances to be more than just someone Ruslan liked only to screw, by talking about history that had to be almost dead and buried. "I'll tell you all about it one day," he added, sensing Ruslan's disappointment.

"Don't worry. I'm used to secretive people. Papa sometimes talks like he's about to tell me some fantastic truth I've been waiting for all my life, and then he shrugs it off like it's nothing."

"Maybe he's just trying to protect you," Johnny offered.

"Or he tries to protect himself," Ruslan sighed.

Johnny could feel the tip of his ears getting red. Wasn't he doing the same thing? Wasn't he protecting himself?

"Okay, let's just freshen up, and then I'll come with you to change your clothes," Ruslan said. "You know, you could pack some essential things and bring them here. What do you say? So that you can have access to them without going back and forth so much?"

The words had been spoken casually, but Johnny could tell that Ruslan had strategized every single one of them. Was the pretty man trying to invite him to spend more time together? Even more than what they had already? Nah, it was too much to imagine that.

"Do you want me to spend some nights here? For your protection?" he tried to sound just as casual as he spoke.

Ruslan was up on his feet and was fiddling with the robe, pulling it close to his body. "My protection?" he blinked as he looked at Johnny. "Sure," he added, with a small mysterious smile. "Make it a bigger bag, then. I feel like I need serious protection."

Johnny laughed and covered his face. "Fuck. I'm so going to lose that tournament, right? Is this some cunning plan of yours?"

"Frankly, I don't give a damn about that stupid tournament," Ruslan shrugged. "I want you here, Johnny. Do you want me to say it out loud?"

Johnny pushed himself to his feet and walked over to Ruslan. He tilted his head back so they could look at each other.

"I'm going to win that tournament. For you," Johnny said. "Although having you so near is going to be a problem."

"Don't worry," Ruslan said quickly. "On most days, I have a lot to work, and I'm not going to stand in your way. Also, there's plenty of space for sleeping arrangements, and I can have the gym better appointed to suit your needs and -"

Johnny stopped Ruslan by pulling him into his arms. "Have you been thinking about this, then?"

"For a little while, yes," Ruslan admitted. "Seriously, Johnny, I'll let you train. And I'll live with the 'no fucking' rule. I want you to succeed since that's what you want."

"Hey, I told you I don't need to hold to that rule," Johnny protested.

"I don't know, Johnny. I don't want to be responsible for your losses."

"So you're going to keep me away from your bed?" Johnny laughed. He grabbed Ruslan's ass. "Away from this?"

Ruslan pushed him away playfully. "Let's do something today already. If you keep your hands on my ass, we won't be able to make it to dinner. And papa won't forgive us. Trust me, you don't want to be on his bad side."

Johnny kissed him. "Ah, so I have to be afraid of your papa, after all?"

"Of course you have to." Ruslan snickered. "But I'll let you make your own opinion of the man. I hope you two get along. What am I saying? You'll get along. You're so similar in some ways I can't believe it."

"Meaning that we both want what's best for you?" Johnny asked.

Ruslan's eyes were honest. "And that's just the beginning of it."

Johnny wanted to know what else made him and the old man so similar. But it looked like Ruslan wished to have that shower by how impatiently he dragged him toward the bathroom.

***

His room seemed so drab and uninviting after he had spent the night at Ruslan's place. It was his room, though. He needed not to forget that simple truth. Yet, as he grabbed his toothbrush and a few changes of clothes, he could not stop the pure happiness he felt bubbling inside his chest. It was like he was leaving for summer camp or something. He had only been once, in fifth grade or something if he remembered well.

Ruslan was standing by the door, leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets, dressed casually in slacks, a polo shirt, and a long coat to protect him from the November cold. Johnny stole a glance at him, and Ruslan smiled. It was like he had imagined. Ruslan could make even that ugly room look like a palace when he smiled.

"I could help you pack," Ruslan pointed out.

Johnny waved. "Nah, it's not much anyway."

"Okay." Ruslan's smile widened.

They were staring at each other like two silly teenagers at this point. He needed to finish stuffing his knapsack with all the necessities and hurry out the door with Ruslan. "Are jeans and a sweater okay for your dad's dinner?" he asked.

Ruslan snickered. "I'd rather have you naked, but let's just say that I don't want to scandalize my family."

"C'mon, don't be like this, pretty," Johnny pretended to complain. "I want to look good for your papa."

"You saved his son from getting a good beating and worse," Ruslan said matter-of-factly. "Trust me. What you wear at the table won't matter in the slightest."

Johnny shook his head. "I hope this won't come back to bite me in the ass."

The only thing he had troubles with was not his wardrobe now. It was dealing with how giddy he felt inside. And giddy wasn't good. It was a way for him to let his guard down, and he could not bring himself to care about that, either.

***

Johnny pushed his hands through his hair to control some of the nervousness he felt. It was just damn funny how he could face any opponent in the ring, but he felt so challenged by a simple dinner. The thing was there was nothing simple about that dinner. He had had no time to prepare for it, and now he needed to make a good impression on Ruslan's dad.

All in all, it wasn't the kind of battlefield he knew. But he had promised Ruslan's old man that he would prove himself, and that was included, too. So he would eat little, speak even less, and not drink at all.

Ruslan grabbed him by one arm, leaning against him. "Papa and Martin will adore you," he said softly.

"I don't think I'm that kind," he said dryly.

"You worry too much," Ruslan laughed. "Damn, I should take a picture. Yeah, why don't I do that?"

Johnny was too surprised to react when Ruslan pulled out his phone and snapped a selfie of them. He laughed when he showed Johnny the picture. "You're so damned serious."

And you're way too beautiful, Johnny wanted to say when he looked at the picture. Too beautiful for me.

"Let's just get inside so that you can finally see there's no reason for you to worry."

Johnny felt a bit assured by Ruslan, his weight as he was leaning against him. Like he felt grounded. Better than ever in his life.

Ruslan pressed the doorbell and gave him an assuring smile. Maybe he would live through this fancy dinner after all.

An aging butler in beautiful livery opened the door. The man looked tall, and Johnny felt dwarfed all of a sudden, not by the man's height, but by how he carried himself. Johnny suddenly felt little.

***

They were all seated at the table, and Johnny still could not shake off his nervousness. The old man had insisted for him and Ruslan to sit by each of his sides, and now Martin was also seated, across from his master. To his surprise, they were having dinner in a very intimate room, not the huge dining one he had expected. Even the table was made for four people, and it was located in a room that looked pretty much like the kind of space the rich and affluent would spend relaxing evenings. There were many books around and a small corner with what looked like smoking accessories.

"I hope you will enjoy your meal," Mr. Kent said. "Come on, don't be shy and dig in. Martin outdid himself, but Russy is such a picky eater. I hope he will learn the importance of a healthy appetite from you, Johnny."

He nodded solemnly. At least Ruslan had been right. There were no confusing forks. And the artfully decorated steak on his plate was making his mouth water. As everyone began eating, he dared, as well. And almost let out a groan of pure pleasure when he took the first bite.

"I can't believe you're telling on me," Ruslan protested, talking to his father.

"Russy, just eat," the old man said to his son. "You're skin and bones. Don't you think so, Johnny?"

Johnny patted his lips with the impeccable cloth napkin placed next to his plate. "Maybe he could eat a little more," he agreed.

"See, Russy?" Mr. Kent said triumphantly. "Even your boyfriend thinks so."

Boyfriend? Johnny reached for his wine glass. But he loved to think he was that to Ruslan. But maybe Ruslan would deny it, and he was getting all excited for nothing.

"Good job, papa. Rallying my boyfriend under your flag. Johnny, you're a traitor, just for the record." Ruslan turned to glare at him.

"Eat," Johnny said with a small smile.

So Ruslan thought he was his boyfriend, too. It wasn't only the wine making him warm on the inside right now. 'Boyfriend' had a nice ring to it. What was even more rewarding was how Ruslan dug into his plate, with an exaggerated sigh.

After that, they ate in silence, as, apparently, that was the standard rule in that house. Johnny didn't mind it. The food was delicious, and he could tell, well balanced, calorie and nutrient wise.

He was a tad intimidated by sitting at the same table with a real butler and a man who was pretty much like nobility, no matter what Ruslan was saying. The master of the house was also casually dressed, just like Ruslan, but Johnny thought he was still sticking out with his way too ordinary clothes.

The dessert was a light option, but at least that was something Ruslan seemed to enjoy eating without being told to. Johnny accepted Martin's offer of a fruit salad instead of the vanilla pudding Ruslan was eating with greater appetite than earlier.

After dinner, the butler took care of the table, and Ruslan hurried to help. When the old man gestured for him to join him at that smoking table or whatever that was, Johnny realized, too late, that he had been tricked into remaining alone with the master of the house.