Eclipse Of The Moon ~ Book 1 of Aaron
Chapter 63
Saving Cammy?

Saturday 20 November 2004

That face.

That cold face.

That face which is bearing an icy expression while his eyes are lurking at other males when I know it can display such warmth and gentleness.

That face with this jawline hidden by a one-week beard. Weirdly enough, as much as it makes him look older and feels odd to my eyes, I like how it gives him a warmer appearance, and if it weren't for his glacial gray eyes, that guy could look very attractive. Not that he doesn't. He is fucking handsome. Just a bit scary to people who don't know him.

That face is one of the rare faces that could pull me out of the brooding state I have been in since I parted from Ivan's embrace six hours ago in Los Angeles. An embrace that threw me into a whirlwind of emotions because of the tension emanating from his body and the hoarseness of his voice.

It's only until tomorrow evening, but I'm going to miss you... Enjoy yourself, you have total freedom to do whatever you want, but please, stay safe and be a good guy, Menino.

There was no pet name. Just the sweet name.

Overall, there was less pet-naming this past week. Ivan's dominance is still here, obviously, and he never fails to beam with authority and guidance, shouting orders here and there, but it feels like all this has lessened. He wasn't as often on my back, checking on my homework or bossing me around to do what I had to. I didn't need it much anyway, since I have gotten used to being serious in everything I undergo.

What was it then? Has he been testing me and my responsible behavior? Yes, probably, but I believe I proved myself mature and reliable.

It doesn't mean I won't miss him this weekend, even if I am away for only two days.

However, having taken the earliest flight out of Los Angeles to Boston and flying back on Sunday afternoon won't leave me much time around Camden, so I'd better enjoy these twenty-eight hours to the fullest. It will be short, and I wish I could have used a longer weekend over Christmas break, but I urgently needed to see my friend.

Mark being in France, he obviously couldn't have made it, but I did offer Josh to join us. Sadly, important tests on Monday and Tuesday next week will have our Yale friend locked up in his bedroom to study all weekend long, so he reluctantly declined my suggestion.

Even if it's only Cam and me, I well intend to enjoy the weekend, especially as I have been given total freedom to do as I want. Ivan's choice of words was meaningful after the conversations we had over the past week about my potential emancipation from the Submissive status. It was his way to tell me that he is slowly getting ready to let go of me.

I know how things end up when you're around Camden, or any of your other friends for that matter, and you two will probably spend the evening in pubs or a nightclub. You're free to fuck around, but remember that I stuffed your bag of toiletries with condoms.

The past week has been a pain in my ass on many levels. Déjà vu, I would say. As Ivan promised, my butt was to remember the flogging Marcus delivered, and it did. All the marks have disappeared by now, but honestly, there is still a slight soreness to my sensitive skin. It was hard to focus on my lessons, but I managed pretty well, and knowing that I would be away for the weekend, I also worked my ass off so that I'd only have to review lessons while on the plane.

Then, there was also the start of a dialog with Ivan about the current situation.

Not much though.

Not enough, to my taste.

As if by magic, Ivan also had a very busy week with a lot of meetings outside and we didn't have many opportunities to sit and talk properly. The one time we did, tension rose quite fast with him playing his possessive Dominant and breeding new rules that don't exist for other Dominant trainees, and with me being so stubborn and unresponsive to his ideas. It ended up with a lot of shouting on both sides, for which I was surprisingly never punished, but I think I succeeded in passing a few of my ideas.

Yesterday evening, when we got back home after my shift at the Hell Fire, we went straight to bed – knowing we'd have to get up at 4 in the morning – but as Ivan pulled me into his arms, he said he had thought a lot about our conversations and asked me to give him another week to finetune his final conditions.

I don't know what to think about said conditions. I don't even know what they really are. It feels like he doesn't want to entirely let go of me, and at the same, he is realizing that he doesn't have much of a choice. Why is it? It was always the plan, and from the start, he knew that I wanted to become a Dominant at some point. Doesn't he trust me? Will he keep a close watch over me? Honestly, I wouldn't mind. As long as he teaches me more and lets me play the Dom at the club.

All the same, the raspy veil in his voice at the airport left me confused. It felt like a farewell or something similar, and I hated it. He hugged me tight for a while longer, and I can only guess it was to recover his usual blank mask before he pulled back and kissed my lips. Too dazzled to say anything else or ask further questions, I eventually kissed him back and left, but since we parted, I have been brooding over ominous impressions I can't pinpoint.

However, seeing my dear friend's face manages to remove part of the dark shade and gloom in my mind, so once I have sent a quick text to Ivan to let him know that I arrived safely, I eagerly walk to meet Camden.

He was working this morning, so we agreed to meet directly at the hotel – the same one we went to last year, though I booked a standard room this time since it's just him and me. This new reunion is just as emotional as the first one, and we couldn't care less about passers-by gawking at us weirdly.

It feels so good to be around him again. On their own accord, most of my worries go hide at the back of my head and hopefully, they won't resurface until we part again.

"Fuck! You've changed again, Bro!" I exclaim as we pull apart and my eyes get a once over of his gorgeous frame.

From one of my last visits to Marcus's practice, I know that I have finally reached my adult size. At slightly over six feet, I was expecting to have reached Camden's height, but it seems like this fucker has grabbed another inch too, so he is still taller than me. More impressive is the way his built has developed, making him as thick as I am. Cam... The once-skinny guy has clearly put on some weight, but I bet it's all in muscles.

Then there is  that trimmed beard that suits him so well. It definitely gives him more... manliness. I'm not as hairy as he is, like nature didn't endow me with a lot of hair on my chest, around my genitals, on my legs and even my armpits – the Sub I was liked that, though! I don't have much facial hair either, yet I wonder what a three-day beard would look like.

"Yeah, whatever. Let's hurry to our bedroom. I want to see them," he replies dismissively, already dragging me toward the main entrance of our hotel.

"See who?"

"Not who. But what..."

"See what, then?"

"The tattoo and the piercing," he deadpans in a whisper, so I stick my tongue out and grin at him. "Holy shit... That's hot... But that's not the one I'm talking about, Dumbass."

Of course, after his visit to Los Angeles last summer, Josh had to brag about the fact that he had seen the piercings and the tattoo for real to our friends, and as much as Mark snorted about them the next time I had him over the phone, it clearly raised Camden's curiosity.

Did he ask me to send more pictures by email? Yes, he did.

Did I yield to his request? Well, he received a few more pictures of my tongue and hip but no dick pic.

Cam enjoyed the few pictures I sent, but he couldn't wait to see them all for real. Especially the barbell on my dick. That perv asked me a ton of questions, wondering if it had been painful, and even playfully said he would have loved being here when I got it, just to see how much I had suffered. Playfully, or maybe not.

"I don't even know if our room's ready."

"It's 2pm and check-in is at 2, so it'd better be ready, or I'll make a scandal," he grunts.

"No, you won't. Let me go and check this out," I grouse, hoping that I won't be announced bad news.

Thank goodness, our room is ready and a few minutes later, we are walking into a rather narrow but really good-looking space. I love the modern furniture, the gray walls, and it has two queen size beds, with a nice view on Merrimac Street. I'm not given a chance to check the bathroom, though, as Cam immediately pushes me on one of the beds. Caught by surprise, there is no way I could have opposed any resistance.

"Strip and show me!" he says eagerly, an air of perversion brimming in his darkening eyes.

Rolling my eyes, I flip him the bird and sit back up.

"I'm not taking orders, Cam," I reply mischievously.

"I'm sure you do from Ivan," he laughs out. "And now we're face to face, I'm sure it'll be easier to worm information out of you..."

"There's nothing to worm from me," I reply confidently.

Had it been a few weeks ago, my stomach would have churned, and I might even have run for the hills, but knowing that I am reaching the end of my submissive phase, it turns out to be much easier to speak with Cam; and breed a few lies. I won't tell him about the lifestyle, not until I know it is a safe one for him; one where he would be able to be controlled and taught by someone who does this properly. Over the past year, I have heard about too many abusive situations where BDSM turned into non-consensual maltreatment. Not at the Hell Fire, of course, but in stories Ivan told me about, where Doms weren't properly trained.

"Yeah, right... We'll see about that. Now, what do I need to do to see that tattoo and the piercing? Beg on my knees?" he snorts.

"Hmm... Seems like a good plan," I trail off, rising to my feet and slowly closing the distance between us. "Kneel."

My stern order has Cam burst out laughing and I get to see his middle finger as an answer.

"Then you won't see it," I eventually say while taking my coat off.

The result isn't the one I expected as Cam immediately drops to his knees, folding his arms across his chest. Should I tell him that a good Sub would have rested his hands on his thighs?

Nah...

After a few seconds staring at him intensely, building up the suspense, I remove my sweatshirt, kick of my shoes, and take my jeans off. Slightly turning to the right, I pull down the left side of my boxer briefs and disclose the tattoo.

"Wow... It's beautiful..." my friend says with genuine admiration. "I love the graphic... it's exactly what you described," he continues, tentatively brushing the tip of a finger on the moon holding the diamond shards, before it goes further down and stops on the star with a C. "Fuck... I'm imprinted on your skin, Bro... I'm so... honored."

There's no sarcasm in his tone, just pure emotion in his voice and it goes straight to my heart.

"You deserve your place here, Cam. You count as much as Josh, Mark and Ivan do to me," I reply a bit hoarsely as I readjust the waistband of my underwear.

"Hey! Not so fast! I want to see the piercing too!" he exclaims.

"Ugh... Cam..." I protest.

Not that I have become modest around my friends, but his posture has given me a semi-hard.

"You promised you'd show me."

"Okay, okay," I concede, pulling down my briefs again.

"Holy shit! You shave?" he blurts out, eyes opened wide.

Not for much longer, trust me...

I do love my shaven balls and shaft, but the rest will certainly only get a good trimming in the future. Of course, Subs do appreciate Doms who also take care of their privates, and it's more pleasant to give head to a hairless dick and suck on smooth balls, but having your nose in trimmed pubes feels nice like most of the Subs say.

"Yeah, it's better than having hair stuck between your teeth or at the back of your tongue," I huff.

"Fair enough... Does Ivan do it too?" he smirks.

"Of course."

"Huh huh... okay, show me the jewel."

Taking my almost-hard shaft in my left hand, I pull on the rest of the foreskin and lift my member to show him the barbell. The piercing clearly makes a good impression on my friend as his eyes darken further with lust and the bulge between his legs blatantly grows.

"Oh. My. Gooooooooooood!!" Cam exclaims, reaching out with his index to touch one of the beads. "Does it hurt if I move it?"

"Nah, of course not. It was a bit painful at first and normally, you're not supposed to jack off or have sex for about two months before it heals, but..."

"Two months without sex!?" he squeals, his features taking a wicked expression. "Fuck! I bet you must have taken full loads up your ass for two months."

"Stop it, Cam," I snap back firmly.

The guys know that I don't want to speak about certain details of my sexual life with Ivan, and I don't care if that makes them guess that I sometimes – or often... or always – bottom. I just don't want to discuss it and they know it.

"Okay, sorry," he sighs. "Damn, it's super nice though. I found a few pictures on the internet where some guys have more barbells. They call it a ladder, I think..."

"Yeah, I want to do that too. At least two or three more barbells, but I need to figure the guts to do it. Not that it hurts, because honestly, I barely felt a sting for a second when the piercer did it, but two months without sex... It sucks."

Especially now that I'll be able to use my shaft full-time topping twinks!

"Yeah, I bet... And I bet it must feel great to Ivan too when he sucks you..."

"Wanna try, Bro?" I smirk as I begin to stroke my cock and smear the precum.

"Err... Not sure Ivan would be happy about that..."

"Cam, you know that we're in a rather open relationship."

I don't really get the bewildered expression on Cam's face because it's not the first time that I mention our libertine relationship. Perhaps he never believed it until I would tell him face to face? It sounds like I am in for a serious questioning, so taking a seat on the bed, my stick still proudly standing between my legs, I exhale a long sigh.

"I told you... Ivan's... We're quite kinky... and it often happens that we have fun with other guys, you know... guys we meet at his nightclub," I explain quite naturally despite my stammer, which is only a half-lie.

"Fuck... That's hot... I thought it only happened a couple times."

"It's not like I'm going to give you details on my everyday sex life," I grouse.

"I wouldn't mind... So that means I can give you head and you can return the favor without getting into trouble?" he then smirks, his eyes turning to pitch black.

"That wouldn't be a problem, indeed," I reply smugly, resuming the stroking of my erection.

Before I know it, Cam crawls to kneel between my legs and with one of his hands replacing my fingers, he gives a long lick from the base of my shaft to the head, twisting his tongue around the barbell, before he swallows most of my length for a round trip.

"Fuck..."

"Yeah fuck!!! It feels great, and I love those shaved balls," he says before he returns to my erection.

Having him pleasuring me in this position and seeing that his skills at giving head have improved, I quickly get to feel the familiar tingles of an orgasm building up. Cam plays a lot with my frenum, only amplifying the sensations.

"Fuck... I'm gonna shoot..."

Instead of pulling back, Camden takes me even deeper, and as the tip of my cock goes down his throat, I just can't hold it any further. I can't say whether it's due to Cam, his skills, the position he is in, his eyes locked with mine, or the turmoil of emotions I have been overwhelmed with recently, but my orgasm is deeply intense, and it feels like my balls will never stop shooting stream after stream of cum that he greedily swallows.

"So good..." I breathe out, lying down on the bed to recover from my high.

"Mmm..." he just hums as he shifts to straddle my knees and leans over to bring his lips to mine.

As we start kissing, I realize that this perv has kept a mouthful of my juices, but I don't mind. Cum-swapping is just too hot, and I truly revel in our exchange. He seems to enjoy it too and his tongue keeps teasing my other piercing.

"Now I want to feel how that one can work on my dick," he whispers as he breaks our kiss and leans back up, already undoing his belt and the buttons of his jeans before he stands up.

"What if I don't want to?" I ask, wiggling my eyebrows.

"I'd find a way to make you," he replies seriously, squinting at me in a way that sends a shiver down my back.

"Camden Hall... You can be really scary at times, but don't play your sadist with me and show me that prick of yours instead."

"That rod is anything but a prick, jerk," he smirks as he pulls out his junk, having only lowered his jeans and underwear to his upper thighs.

"Fuck..."

It seems like Cam's cock has grown even thicker than the last time I saw it and in its fully-erect state, it looks massive. Still not as long as Joshua's, but much thicker.

"Come on, try to fit that in your mouth... unless you'd like me to stuff it up your ass?"

"That thing will never go up my ass, Cam, I'm telling you," I chuckle.

Even if I actually experienced much worse than this, he doesn't need to know, right?

"The guys I fuck usually don't complain after they've adjusted," he snorts, shrugging his shoulders.

I ignore his remark and without even bothering to put my boxers back on, I go and kneel in front of him. I love that musky scent and actually missed it. Most of the time, whenever I get to give head to someone, whether it is Ivan or anyone else, they are either fresh out of the shower or had one not long before. Unexpected blowjobs do happen several hours after Ivan has cleaned up, he even occasionally has me sucking his dick after we trained at the gym, but it's scarce enough to make me tick on the fact that Cam is just out of work and probably hasn't had a shower since yesterday.

Though, he looks clean; it's really just this natural scent... Mmmh...

I love it, he smells so good. I just wish he had cleared that forest. I still grab the base of his huge erection in my left hand, keeping the hair away from my mouth, and trail my tongue from the base of his shaft up to the mushroom head, adding the perfect amount of pressure with the ball of my piercing.

"Oh shit... do that again, Ron..."

I repeat the same gesture a few times before I focus on his frenulum, knowing that it's the most sensitive area. The slit of his cock is heavily leaking with precum that I mix with my saliva and smear all over the mushroom head, swirling my tongue for a while before I take most of his length down my throat.

"Holy fuck..."

After a year of sex in the BDSM lifestyle, I can say that I have learned a lot around Ivan, including deep-throating, and whatever the size of the member, I have learned to relax my muscles, my gag reflex having become nearly inexistent.

"Please, Ron... Your skills... Damn... Can I face-fuck you?" he almost begs.

I blink my approval to him and let his hands grip each side of my head, giving him full control of my mouth. All I want is to make him happy and I am not one to brag, but after all I have been through at the club, I doubt Cam would ever find a more willing mouth than mine in the pubs he goes to. Deep-throating requires practice and I'm sure people who are not in the lifestyle can do this, but they are scarcer.

I can tell that he is containing himself at first, but with his eyes locked on mine, he quickly notices that I'm not uncomfortable at all or in pain. He doesn't waste much time pushing deeper and deeper, his hips picking up speed as they rock back and forth. His cock is a good eight-inch long, but I still manage to swallow him whole at some point and I could just come from the bliss shining in his eyes.

My cock has recovered its full hardness and I have been stroking it in rhythm with Cam's thrusts. I am just too excited, too happy to see him relish in this face-fuck that when he suddenly buries my nose in his pubes for his climax, shooting his load directly down my gutter, I also come in my hand, enjoying a second orgasm.

"You okay, Ron?" he exclaims as he pulls out, suddenly getting out of his trance.

"Yeah..." I reply through my coughing, my throat a bit irritated by the hard pounding. "So? How did you like that piercing?"

"Amazing... though not as much as... Fuck! You're good at deep-throating. Never met anyone who could do that yet."

"Ivan's quite thick, so I've got some practice," I reply with a wink.

"Wait," he says, joining me on the floor and taking my wrist between his hand to bring my fingers to his mouth. "Mmm... Delicious..."

"You and your tastes to play with cum," I chuckle.

"Yours is just too good," he says, looking down at my semi-hard before he raises it. "I really like this... I'd like to get one when I have enough cash. I've seen some that go here," he explains, making me hiss as he touches the extremely sensitive glans of my shaft. "And through the piss hole."

"That's called a Prince Albert. And it's more painful than the one I have from what I heard," I reply, pulling back to get dressed.

"Pain doesn't scare me and I think I'd prefer that... And I'd love a tattoo as well."

"What kind?"

"Dunno... Maybe a dragon to represent my... wildness."

"How about angel wings? We both know there's an angel beneath the beast," I suggest softly, wishing he would see all the goodness in him.

"Not sure about that," he grunts.

"Cam," I sigh, pulling him closer and eventually in a tight embrace despite his tense body. "I wish you'd change your mind about yourself. You're a good guy."

"A good guy who can only think about smashing other guys' faces... or fucking them hard," he snorts dejectedly. "What if I become like my father?"

"You won't because there's a lamb underneath that wolf. You're capable of feelings, there are people you love deeply, you have a heart, Cam. You care for others. And above all, you're aware of these issues, you're fighting them, you know the difference between what's right and what's wrong."

"I'm trying, but..."

"There's no but. I wouldn't let you become like your father, Bro, because I have faith in you. Mark and Josh have faith in you too. And so does Sony, I'm sure. We're all here for you, Cam, never forget that."

I'm very tempted to bring up the subject that got me here, but Camden shifts within my hold to hug me tighter, whispering endless thank yous. I still have time to raise the subject of a therapy, so I decide to remain quiet for now and just convey all the love I have for him through this intense embrace.

As opposed to what Ivan thought, Camden and I don't go out that evening. Well, we would have, but a little incident in the afternoon leads me to opt for a quiet evening in our room.

We are wandering the streets in the city center, not really aiming anywhere, just looking at shop windows, and we stop by a coffee shop to get a warm beverage because it is freaking cold outside. Sitting at a table for two, I have my back to the rest of the room, and since we are talking about sex, we have both leant forward for more privacy. I notice that Cam's eyes keep shifting above my head, throwing daggers each time he does, until he suddenly jumps to his feet, lunging forward to another table where an old man and his wife are having coffee and pastries.

"What's your problem, you shithead?" he shouts, leaning down and grabbing the front of the man's jumper. "D'you have a problem with gays, you fucking bigot? D'you want me to smash that homophobic face of yours?"

Thank goodness, I am fast to react. Seeing all that tension in his body, I am pretty sure that Cam is about to beat the crap of that grandpa, and I can't have that, even if the guy was looking at us with dejection. And perhaps, he wasn't even. Perhaps, it was just Cam's wild and paranoid imagination.

"Cam, stop," I order, pulling him back.

"Let me teach him a good lesson," he growls, but I don't let him.

Quickly gathering our coats, I forcefully drag him out of the coffeeshop, ignoring his protest, and despite all his fuming and yelling, I manage to reach a quieter alley where I pin him against a wall, firmly gripping his sweatshirt within my fist.

"You shut the fuck up now," I whisper-growl. "I swear that you and I are going to have a serious conversation, Bro, because this has to stop. You hear me? You can't attack people just because they're glaring at you, Cam. There's just no point. So you know what? Now we're going to get ourselves some pizzas and head back to the hotel for a quiet evening. Understood?"

"But..."

"UNDERSTOOD?" I shout louder, and he finally seems to see reason.

"Okay... I'm sorry, Ron..." he mumbles as tears well in his eyes. "I just can't control it..."

"Shh, it's okay, Cam," I sigh, pulling him into a tight hug. "We'll make it, Bro, we'll find a way."

These outbursts have happened more and more often lately, and that's precisely the purpose of my short trip to Boston. I am only lucky that Cam confides quite easily and never fails to inform me or the guys when he fucks up. He was even taken to the police station a few weeks ago after a fight he participated in at a bar, but thank goodness, it involved so many people – some of whom did much more damage than he did – and he was released almost right away.

All the same, Mark, Josh and I are worrying about his increasing anger management issues, and my point is mainly to start a serious and face-to-face conversation with him over the weekend. Rather than going out to a club or whatever and risk another fight, spending the evening in our room to watch movies sounds like a better idea, and I achieve to convince him promising another taste of my pierced tongue in a naughty shower.

That's how we get ourselves some takeaway pizzas, sodas and sweets for a good lazy night at the hotel, but I obviously hold further motives than just watching movies with one of my best friends and stuffing myself with junk food. After watching Philadelphia for the umpteenth time while munching on our pizzas, Cam is in the perfect mood – that is, an angry and frustrated one – to ramble on and on and express his disgust toward homophobic people, saying how unfair it is because we, gays, are just normal individuals with a right to love – and to fuck! – whoever we want to.

I patiently listen to his rant, occasionally grunting my approval, and this leads him to open up on further topics such as Sony and recent tensions with his mother. A conversation they had while he was in New Jersey last July has been weighing on his nerves since then and enhanced further stress.

It turns out that his mother mentioned an ex of hers and called him a fag – clearly the word that shouldn't be pronounced around a gay... – because the guy apparently decided to bat for the other team. Camden still hasn't come out to her, so she wouldn't know, but he was about to last summer. However, after hearing this, he obviously changed his plans and decided to remain quiet on his own homosexuality.

"So, you think she has a problem with homosexuals?" I ask softly.

"Dunno, Ron... I hope not. She's changed, she no longer drinks, and even if I don't really care about what she thinks, she's still my mother," he replies sadly.

I did say that this monster has a heart and cares more about people than he would admit. Despite his rather painful childhood and all that he went through between his violently abusive father and a mother who never took care of him, he still loves her, I believe; and seeks her approval.

"Perhaps she just used it as an insult like she would have used motherfucker or bastard?" I propose.

"Probably... I just hope it was out of frustration and that she's not really homophobic. I'd hate it if she rejected me and forbade me to communicate with Sony."

"She wouldn't do that, Cam. She can't. She knows how Sony needs his big brother and how you need him too. That'd be unfair. Besides, you're her son. Normal parents don't reject their children just because they're not straight."

"Like your parents..." he snorts.

"My parents aren't normal. Your mother is, despite her former addictions. And you told me that she's been doing better lately."

"Yeah, she's much more stable. She's got a job, she takes good care of Sony, and she hasn't drunk in several months, that's why I don't want her to reject me. Or prevent me from seeing Sony. I wouldn't be able to take this."

"Cam, she can't do that. You're his big brother. I'm sure there are laws that would protect you and your relationship with that little buddy," I reason with a warm smile.

"Not sure... All I know is that it's difficult enough to not see him as it is. We do speak a lot on the phone, but it's not the same, and I'm scared she'd even bereave me that right. Just thinking about it..." he seethes, his hands balling into fists.

His body has become so tense, his features so rigid and his breathing so strained, it feels like he's about to explode. Willing to soothe him, I scoot over closer to him on the bed, but as I try to wrap my arms around his shoulders, Cam toughly pushes me back, making me fall off the bed and knock my head against the other bed. I only hit the mattress, so it doesn't hurt at all, but Cam is immediately by my side, offering profuse apologies.

"It's alright, Cam... I'm not hurt," I reassure him.

"Fuck! How could I do this to you... I'm so sorry, Ron," he insists, clearly overwhelmed and put down, even if it's not the first time it happens.

"Hey, Cam, listen," I whisper softly as we both sit face to face on the floor between the two beds. "I'm fine and I'd take any punch from you rather than seeing you punch anyone else, but," I hesitate, not sure how I should phrase my thoughts without antagonizing him. "These anger issues, they seem to get worse, don't they?"

Camden exhales a brief sigh through his nose and closes his eyes as he reclines against the bed.

"I guess they do," I comment without involving a judging tone in my voice. "It seems like taking care of Sony and having us around you used to help in the past, but unfortunately, it's not possible at the moment. You also used to let some steam off with working out, why did you stop?"

"I didn't, Ron. I did stop martial arts because I just don't have time and the classes wouldn't fit in my schedule, but I do work out. I run whenever I can, and I also do a lot of pushups and stuff like that in my bedroom."

"Clearly, it's not enough. Martial arts at least helped you to relax because they have very positive values attached to the physical training."

"Yes, but the dojo I used to go to have their course while I work, and I just can't skip..."

"I understand, Cam, I do. Why don't you try another dojo? Boston is a huge city, there must be other places," I suggest gently, but he only shrugs his shoulders in answer. "Cam, don't take it the wrong the way, but... I think you should try and see a therapist too."

"So, you think I'm sick!? That I should be thrown into a mental home? That I'm a dangerous sociopath?" he bursts out, his eyes darkening with anger by the second.

"I never said anything like that," I growl louder than him. "You're not a fucking sociopath, Cam. Whatever you think, you do have empathy for others. You care for Sony. You care for Josh, Mark and me. You even care for your mother. You may have a wicked mind and vices, you may find some sort of pleasure while making others suffer, but you also take pleasure in providing well-being. So, no, you're not a sick bastard, Cam. But you need help. I don't know what kind of help, but speaking with a therapist could be an option."

"I don't fucking want to expose my problems to a shrink. How would you like them to help me with all this violence I have in me? They can't!"

"How would you know? How would you know if you don't give it a try, Cam? I'm not saying it's going to work, but they could give you a few leads on how you can deal with your angers."

Camden remains silent for a long time and I let him ponder on my words. He looks dejected, but I can tell his neurons are working at full speed, analyzing what I just said.

"I'd never be able to afford a therapist anyway," he decides after a long while.

"Fine, I'll pay for it. I'll give you money," I reply nonchalantly.

"No way. Why would you even do that!?"

"Because you're my friend, like my brother. Even more than a brother. And I fucking care for you. I don't want to see you ruin a possible bright future because of this wrath you have in you."

"How would you even pay for it? You're just a student."

"That's my problem, not yours."

"I can't accept. I don't want your p..."

"Swallow your freaking pride, Cam," I shout. "It's not a question of pity or whatever. It's just about accepting help from people who love you. Is it that complicated? How do you think I have been dealing with Ivan's help? Do you even have a clue about the thousands of dollars he's spent on me? Clothes, food, healthcare, school, GED, driving lessons, a car, and much more! Do you know why I accepted each and every gift from him? Because his intentions were always sincere. Because it pleased him. He cares for me and declining his help would have hurt him."

"So I'd hurt you if I refused?" he asks with such a small voice that I just feel like hugging him tightly, which is precisely what I do as I shift to straddle his lap and pull him into a bear hug.

"You would, Cam, you definitely would," I whisper. "I can't guarantee it's going to work and it might require a few tries before you find the right therapist, but I just want you to give it a chance. That's all I'm asking."

"Okay... I'll try to look for one," he eventually sighs. "Now will you suck my cock?"

"What!?" I exclaim, pulling back from him.

"You promised you'd let me have another taste of your tongue piercing if we spent the evening here," he accuses playfully.

This guy and his mood swings... I swear they're going to kill me one day.

Published on 16 October 2021

This was sort of a filler here, but it was necessary on many levels to show Cam's interest in tattoos and piercings, show how his anger management issues are wearing their toll on him at that time, to introduce a few things about Sony for the future, and to also show how Aaron has always had some sort of influence on Cam.

Next chapter is titled A Fight For Dominance, so I'll – evilly – let you dwell on that for a few days until the next update.