Matched

Damien looked up and seemed to only at that moment realise how close they were. His often unreadable expression betrayed him for a moment, he seemed to be searching Elliots face for a sign of what he wanted.

"You fascinate me," he murmured.

"Do I? I feel like you're the more fascinating one," Elliot whispered, their heads getting closer together as they spoke in increasing softening voices.

"Why you? After all these years, why are you special?"

Elliot wondered what it would be like waiting eleven years for a match, he had only waited two months. How different it must feel for Damien.

"I have... no idea," he whispered.

Damien leaned closer towards him and hesitated, as if watching to see if Elliot would flinch back. He didn't. Slowly, Elliot allowed his body to move forward to close the gap, but he couldn't quite bring himself to touch his lips to Damien's. He stopped centimetres from his face, he could feel Damien's warm breath, his own catching slightly with nerves. Those dark eyes searched for his and when he met them, he felt the last of his qualms melt. Whatever the label, he had feelings for Damien, he was his match after all.

However it was Damien who closed the last of the distance, bringing his lips to Elliot's with a firm but gentle touch. The taste of him was more powerful than his scent, it felt like a drug as the world around him fell away. He moved his lips to kiss Damien back, his lips smooth and soft. A noise came from Damien's throat and his kiss became harder, more insistent. Damien pushed the table to the side with a huff of frustration, it clattered to the floor, the chess pieces rolling along the wooden floor as he pushed Elliot back into his chair. He gasped as he fell back against the cushion, his whiskey glass toppled, spilling its contents into the antique rug beneath them.

Damiens hand grabbed at Elliot's hair sharply, yanking his head back as he kissed him almost painfully with his insistance. Elliot made a noise of alarm but Damien continued, and he became accustomed to the pain. He gasped as Damien's kisses moved down his neck, forcefully.

"Mr Parker I heard a noise and - oh" the housekeeper stood in the doorway, her cheeks turning pink. Damien scowled as he turned to her, "please leave Mrs Crows, you can go home for the night."

"Yes sir, sorry sir," she said backing out the room.

Damien leaned backwards picking up the whiskey glass with a sigh. Elliot ran a hand along his neck, it hurt a little.

"Well there goes the element of surprise. Mrs Crows is a gossip. The whole town will know about you now."

Elliot considered this for a moment, but realised he didn't care. Those last few minutes were nothing like anything he had experienced before, his could a simple kiss be that intense, he felt exhausted and rejuvenated all at once. He would happily let the whole world know for another kiss like that. But Damien seemed to be frustrated by the interruption and his mind was somewhere else.

Elliot watched as he cleared up the whiskey, righted the table and poured Elliot another drink. He thrust it into his hand without looking at him and walked from the room. Elliot waited to see if he would come back, but as the fire light dimmed and the clock ticked later still, he assumed it was time to go to bed.

He walked up te dark staircase, and at the top he saw a bedroom with a light on, the door slightly ajar. He tiptoed towards it and peered through the crack. Inside Damien paced, he was shirtless and seemed to be running his hand through his hair with frustration. It was bizarre to see so much pure emotion from one who concealed them so well. He stopped, leaning one hand against his bedpost, his back to Elliot, and he couldn't help but admire his muscular body. He wondered if he should go into the room, if he could help whatever it was that was making Damien so stressed. But something told him that he did not yet have that relationship with him, and that his visit would not be welcome.

He went back to his room, but it took him a long time to fall asleep.

Chapter Four- Cocktail Party

When he went down to breakfast the next day, Damien was already there.

"Good morning," Elliot said, Damien nodded but didn't speak. They sat in silence through breakfast and Elliot began to feel frustrated himself now. Why was he getting the silent treatment? What had he dont to warrant this response? Was he a bad kisser? Maybe Damien didn't want to be matched with him anymore...

Suddenly he stood, looking at Elliot for the first time, "Forgive me for not saying goodnight last night, I felt unwell. I have booked the tailors to visit this morning. You won't have a tailored suit ready for tonight but they can at least get you in something suitably fitted. They will be here at 11, feel free to keep yourself entertained in the house or grounds until then. Party guests will be arriving from 6:30 tonight."

He walked from the room without another word, Elliot sat confused and annoyed at the table alone.

True to Damien's word the tailors arrived at 11am on the dot. He tried not to get frustrated as he was prodded and poked with pins, but when it came to trying on the suits they had brought from Damien's predicted measurements his spirits lifted. The outfits were all an excellent fit, one of the tailors commenting that Damien clearly had a very good eye. He tried on several suits, finally settling on a traditional black, with a bow tie.

The day whipped by and before he knew it, he was putting on the suit for the party. Despite being in the same house all day he hadn't seen Damien once. He was beginning to get pissed off. He had opened up to him, faced his fears, admitted to himself that perhaps he was gay after all and then he disappears? It was insensitive and unkind.

"Mr Green?" A voice at the door asked.

"Yeah?"

The door opened and Mrs Crows shuffled in her head low, her cheeks as pink as yesterday.

"The guests will be arriving shortly, Mr Parker requests your presence when they arrive."

"Now he wants me around huh?" He said "yeah okay I'll be down in a bit."

"I also wanted to apologise for my interruption last night," she blurted out. "It was incredibly unprofessional of me."

"Don't worry about it," he said trying to straighten his bow tie with little success. "It's all good," he said and Mrs Crows gave a gratified smile before leaving the room.

Elliot gave a long sigh, before heading after her. The house had been decorated in the afternoon for the party, the hall had twinking lights up the hall stairs and candles lit in their candelabras. The main event would be in the dining hall which had been set out with a huge buffet table and a bar. Several waitresses waited by the walls with trays of canapés and glasses of champagne. When he entered he was met with a glass which he took graciously. He walked over towards Damien who had his back to him, walking to an older waitress who seemed to be running the event.

Damien turned to him and smiled, not the same smile as before. It was forced, and he couldn't seem to meet his eyes.

"You look nice," he said.

"Same to you," Elliot said. It was true, Damien was as handsome as ever. He too was in a smart black suit, his hair was perfectly windswept.

Damiens gaze fell onto Elliot's tie and he saw a hint of the amused glitter in his eyes.

"Let me help you with that," he said, gently adjusting Elliot's tie, Elliot watched his face, he liked it when he was concentrating on something.

"Have I done something wrong?" He asked and Damien looked up, surprised. His eyes softened slightly.

"No, you've done nothing wrong it's... don't worry," he said, his hand rested on the faint bruises on his neck that he had left the night before, only visible at this close distance. He swallowed and standing back looked at Elliot's tie from a distance .

"There, much better."

The doorbell rang and Damien glanced at the door, "so it begins."

*

There were lots more guests than Elliot expected. Thankfully he managed to dodge many of them by keeping to the outskirts of the gathering. Occasionally a well meaning soul would bring him into conversation. He looked for Damien on several occasions but he was always in the middle of an animated conversation elsewhere, although occasionally he was sure he could feel those eyes on him.

He was at the buffet table when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, he turned to see an unfamiliar woman with an unlit cigarette in hand. She was beautiful, with carefully styled blonde hair that fell around her face. Large pouting lips that once upon a time Elliot would have been attracted to but now seemed to have lost their appeal.

"Got a light?" She asked.

"No sorry I don't smoke," he said, she smiled and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Come out with me anyway," she said, guiding him a set of french doors into the cool air.

"So, you're the long awaited match of Damien Parker," she said, wresting with her lighter, eventually she got a spark and took a drag from her cigarette with a sigh of relief.

"Yes," Elliot said, he looked through the glass door at Damien, who hadn't noticed he had disappeared just yet.

"Dont worry, I've known Damien for years. The closest thing to a best friend he has is my husband Harvey."

"He hasn't mentioned him," Elliot said cooly and the woman laughed.

"Yeah well, that's Damien for you," she said, holding the cigarette between her lips as she returned the lighter to her bag and leant back against the wall.

"So you must be into some really kinky shit to be matched with Damien," she said and Elliot frowned.

"I'm sorry?" He said and she laughed again.

"No? Well maybe you don't know you are yet. You weren't gay before you were matched with him were you?"

"How did you know that?" Elliot said, affronted and she grinned.

"I used to work for Matched, as do or did most of the people in that room. I was a matcher, all those answers, a little bit of some extra research and you only match up with one. We know what happens, I also know that we tried for years with Damien. He was a tall order. No one was right for him, no one until you. I want to know why."

"Join the club," Elliot said.

She took another drag from her cigarette and Elliot wrinkled his nose, he had always hated smoking.

"You a virgin," she asked.

"That's it, I'm going inside," Elliot said.

"Wait, come on. I'm sorry I'm being forward. I'm a bit drunk," she giggled "I only ask because I can give you some tips if it's your first time, you know with a guy."

"I don't need tips thank you," he muttered.

He walked back into the room angry and bumped straight into Damien. He looked down at him and then out the door at the woman, he smiled slightly.

"Has Stephanie been giving you trouble?" He asked.

"I was only curious," Stephanie giggled behind him, and Elliot glared at her.

"Come on," Damien said guiding him away from her with a hand on the small of his back.

"She is a -"

"Elliot, polite company" Damien interrupted.

"I don't care! She called me a virgin, she was saying, she was- "

Damien pulled him into a room he had not been in before, it was quiet away from the bustle of the party. It looked like Damien's own study, wood panelled with a comforting calm smell that he couldn't quite place.

"Calm down Elliot," he said placing his hands gently on his shoulders, but he wasn't angry.

"She asked if I was kinky," he muttered and Damien smirked.

"Are you?"

He looked at him in indignation and he laughed, "I'm joking Elliot."

"I wouldn't be so pissed off if you hadn't been avoiding me all day since last night!" He blurted out. The laughter drained from Damien's face and he pulled his hands away straightening.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," he said quietly.

Elliot felt his eyes prickling and was shocked to realise he was hurt.

"Then why? I deserve an explanation. I came here, I did what you asked every step of the way."

Silence.

"Yes, you have," he admitted. He walked away and sat in the high backed leather chair behind his desk.

"Last night, I felt things I have never felt before for anyone. I have never had a loving family, I don't have close friends, there isn't anyone I truly care for. But I like it that way, I know where I stand, I don't have to be frightened about losing anyone or anything. Alone, I am in control."

Elliot approached the desk slowly, understanding began to soften his frustrations.

"That's what you meant, when you called me special last night. I thought you meant after the years on Matched, but you meant your whole life, didn't you?"

He nodded. "I didn't like losing that control," he said clenching his fist.

"I understand, but you don't need to worry about losing control, or me," Elliot said, his face reddening "I... I like it here, with you."

Damien smiled sadly, "you only see the bit of me I want you to see. You don't know me."

"Then let me in," Elliot said, leaning over the desk now. He brought his lips to Damien's, kissing him gently.

"Later," he said after a minute or two, but it wasn't cruel, and he squeezed his hand. "We have guests."

They both returned to the party but this time, Damien kept him close by his side. Either by holding his hand, or keeping one at the small of his back, he never released his touch.

The guests were all polite, but Damien fielded most of the questions for which Elliot was grateful. He saw Stephanie again, this time accompanied by her husband. She was all politeness and class, but as she was about to leave she leaned to whisper in Elliot's ear.

"Just a bit of girl talk El, no harm meant," she was about to pull away before she hesitated, looking at his neck "nice hickeys... kinky" she winked.

"I don't like her," he said to Damien.

"No? I never guessed."

The last of the guests trickled from the building and Damien approached Mrs Crows.

"Please supervise the clean up before you go home, of course you will be recompensed for your overtime, and Mrs Crows, we will be upstairs. Under no circumstance should anyone come up after us. Understand?"

"Yes sir," she said.

Damien ushered Elliot out of the dining room and up the grand staircase, at the top he automatically turned towards his room but a firm hand grabbed his.

"No, this way," he said, his voice low as he led him towards his bedroom.

Elliot swallowed. Was he ready for this? He had admitted to Damien that he liked him but he didn't think that meant sex was on the cards. But then, those kisses had been so good, what would sex feel like?

'But,' a small voice in his head said 'for someone who loves control, it's pretty obvious who will be the one getting fucked.'

Did he want to be fucked by a man? No. Did he want to be under bedcovers with Damien? well..

"Do you trust me?" Damien asked. He walked into the room, flicking a light on beside the bed, the room was washed in a warm yellow glow. His eyes shone in the mellow darkness.

"Yes," Elliot whispered.

Damien walked back towards him, he slid his hands under Elliots jacket and began slowly removing it, then his tie and finally unbuttoned his shirt. He said nothing the whole time, only watched and looked, curious. Then he began to take off his own clothes, he stopped, like he had with Elliot at his trousers. He looked as he had last night, only this time Elliot could see him up close, feel the warmth of his bare chest, see his muscular arms as they tensed before him.

"You said before that I didn't need to worry about losing control."

"No, you don't," Elliot whispered.

"You also pointed out that you have done everything I have ever asked of you."

Elliot nodded, unsure of where this was going.

"When Stephanie asked if you were kinky. She was referring to her limited understanding of my sexual desires. I like to be in control, outside and inside the bedroom."

Elliot nodded again, this didn't surprise him too much but it did make his heart beat a little faster, catching the breath in his throat. What was he into? However much he liked him, he was not going to call him Daddy.

"I don't expect anything overnight, and if you're ever unhappy, you must tell me. But I want... I need to control your life. Is that something you are willing to let me do?"

Elliot frowned, "control my life?"

"It sounds worse than it is," Damien sighed. "Really you have already been allowing it this weekend, staying here with me, wearing the clothes I want you to wear, attending my parties, eating with me, things like that. You wouldn't have to worry about going back to your job, I would keep you financially supported here, I will make sure that anything you want, you get."

"I," Elliot felt confused, he had expected him to say he was into a little light bondage or something like that. This seemed a lot, to give up his whole life at the snap of his fingers?

"Obviously I don't expect you to forget your life, your friends are welcome here as long as it's prearranged, or you can go to London whenever you want. Your family too, I would love to meet them. And if it becomes too much, we can stop, and I will let you go back, I promise."

"So if I say ok, and find in a weeks time I can't hack it, I can throw in the towel?"

"Yes, precisely." Damien said, his voice was cool but Elliot thought that if the lights were brighter perhaps he would see a trace of anxiety in his eyes.

"Can I have a minute to think?" He asked and Damien agreed, walking to the en-suite bathroom door and leaving him in peace.

Quit his job, well that wouldn't be a sacrifice. He hated his job and had been looking for an excuse to quit for a long time. Although being financially dependent on Damien wasn't particularly appealing. He would have to get rid of his room at the flat, he wouldn't have Damien pay for that. But again, not a huge issue. They were messy and two of them lived at their girlfriends practically full time anyway. He had said he could go to London or have them visit here, he imagined their faces and grinned, they would shit a brick to see his new pad. His mum and sister would be nothing but happy to see him here. The only thing that worried him was the unknown-ness of it all. How far would Damien go with such power?

But as he said, he could stop him at anytime. A final crushing thought hit him, If he said no, he would have to leave, and turn his back on Damien forever. As his match he was then dooming them both to a solitary life, a life he knew would be haunted by those eyes forever.

He knocked quietly on the door to the bathroom and Damien emerged.

"Well?" He asked, "have you decided."

"Yes," he said "I agree, at least for now anyway. You have control. Of everything."

*

"Take off the rest of your clothes," he whispered. Elliot hesitated for a moment and then with trembling fingers began to undo his belt and trousers. As he did Damien walked to a cabinet and retrieved a bottle of whiskey, pouring two glasses. The champagne at the party had him on the verge of tipsy, but he decided some Dutch courage would be necessary for what was to come next. He stopped when he was naked except for his boxers and reached out a hand for the glass.

"May I?" He asked and Damien handed it to him.

He took the glass gratefully and knocked it back in one. Damien said nothing, but took the glass away. He did not refill it. Slowly he slid his boxers down his legs, the excitement of the evening had his penis beginning to twitch with anticipation, no longer able to hide in the safety of his underwear. Damien sat on the end of the bed opposite and looked him up and down, taking in his body.

"Kneel," he said cooly and Elliot dutifully obliged, his knees meeting the soft carpet, his head lowered, fearing what would come next.