Crossing Lines Chapter 76

**Aiden**

I’d never been more proud of him. Not when he’d scored on the field, not when he’d stood up for himself against his teammates, not even when he’d knelt at my feet for the first time. Nothing compared to this. My chest ached with it—this overwhelming need to hold him, to kiss him, to keep him in my arms forever. 

God, I was so fucked.

Backstage, away from the roar of the crowd, he was everything. Mask gone, his soft curls damp with sweat, his body trembling but warm as he curled against me under the heavy blanket. Still deep in that precious, fragile haze they called subspace—soft, needy, trusting in a way that tore through me. He clung to me like I was air, his face pressed into my chest, his fingers bunching at my shirt like he’d fall apart if he let go.

He stirred after a while, blinking up at me with glassy eyes. "Hey, baby boy… Here you are.” I kissed his forehead, his eyelids, nose, cheeks, and down to his beautiful lips, dry now from the high. I reached for a bottle of water and held it for him as he drank in small gulps, then set it aside when his hands shook too much.

“Did I… did I do good?” He whispered, his voice so small it nearly broke me.

My heart melted, my throat tightening around the rush of feeling. I cupped the back of his head, kissed his temple. “You were perfect, my boy. You did so good for me.”

His lips parted, his breath shaky. “How good?”

I kissed him. His lips, his jaw, down the line of his throat. “So good,” I murmured against his skin, tasting the salt of sweat and tears. “So fucking good.”

When he let out a sound that was half sigh, half sob, I gently asked him to turn over. He obeyed, still pliant, trembling under my hands. I reached for a small tube of soothing oil, available for after scene care, working it slowly into the heated skin of his ass, his thighs, each mark a memory of discipline that deserved attention. My touch was steady, reverent, even as my eyes fixed on the sight of him spread open before me.

I parted his cheeks, my fingers brushing between them, and felt the twitch that made my cock harden instantly. He turned his face away, burying it in his arms, flushed and shivering.

The door opened.

Hale entered, his presence filling the small room with the same gravity it had commanded in the hall. “Is he well?” he asked.

“He’s fine,” I answered without looking up, my hand firm as I stroked the oil along Noah’s stretched skin. “He just needs comfort. And care.”

I didn’t stop. I wouldn’t hide what was mine.

Noah shivered, overwhelmed, his body tense under my hand—but he didn’t fight. He didn’t ask me to stop. He surrendered, even to the shame of being exposed like this. I slid a finger inside him with the oil, stroking, massaging, giving him more than healing—giving him his reward. His breath hitched, his body writhing under me, the fight draining away as I worked him open.

Tears still streaked his cheeks when he reached blindly for my hand. I gave it to him, let him clutch it tight while my other fingers moved inside him, coaxing, caressing.

“You took your punishment so well in public, my boy,” I whispered in his ear, curling over him, my breath hot against his skin. “Why should it matter if someone watches you take your reward? Let me take care of you now.”

A broken sound left him as he clung to me harder. His body bucked into my hand, shame twisting with need until it consumed him.

And then—Hale moved.

Noah gasped, stiffening, when another hand slid between his body and the couch. Hale’s. He wrapped his strong fingers around Noah’s cock, stroking in rhythm with mine.

Noah’s wide, tearful eyes met mine, panicked and undone. I pressed him down gently, steadying him. “Stay with me,” I murmured. “You’re safe.”

His body betrayed him—shaking, thrusting helplessly into Hale’s grip as I worked him from inside, our touches in perfect synch. He sobbed, panting, his whole body trembling on the edge.

At my word—“Now, my boy”—he broke. His hips bucked wildly, his body giving in completely as he came hard into Hale’s hand, collapsing with a cry that tore from his chest.

When it was over, he was spent, overwhelmed, his body shaking with exhaustion and confusion, his face wet with tears. I gathered him close, wrapping him back in the blanket, holding him against me as the world fell away again.

*****

The rest of the night passed in silence.

The ride home, the stillness in the car. Noah leaned against the window, wrapped in his coat, quiet in a way that made every mile feel longer. My hand ached to reach for him, but I didn’t. He needed to process things and make sense of them.

Later, in bed, I held him close. He curled into me without a word, his body soft but tense, his breath deep but uneven. I kept him there, wrapped in my arms, listening to the sound of him breathing as thoughts I couldn’t silence gnawed at me.

Had I gone too far?

He’d trusted me. He’d given me everything tonight—and I’d laid him bare in front of strangers. I’d let Hale touch him. I’d told myself it was for his growth, for his strength. But lying awake with him pressed so close, all I felt was the sharp edge of concern. Regret took my sleep from me, left me staring into the dark, holding him tighter as if my arms alone could make it right.

Morning came too fast.

I was careful, quiet. Gave him space, though every part of me wanted to cling. I made breakfast, set it out, asked him to sit with me before he left. He obeyed, still silent, still watching me with those unreadable eyes. He ate without a word, and I mirrored his silence, hoping the calm would soothe instead of widen the gap between us.

When it was time, he stood, lingering by the door. He stopped in front of me, hesitant, so close I could feel his breath. Inches from saying something. Inches from pulling me back—or cutting me open.

I waited. My chest pounded. Fear clawed at me that he was about to say it—that he regretted me, regretted this, regretted everything we had.

So I looked down instead. My voice low, steady, pretending I wasn’t breaking. “I’ll see you in practice.”

And then I let him leave.

Hoping I hadn’t just ruined everything.