Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Company belong to JK Rowling. No money was made writing this bit of fiction.
Pairing: Damon/Grant
Rating: R
Summary: In preparation for Mourning Dove's arrival, Damon finds something that turns his and Grant's world on its axis.
Warnings: Language, Mentions of past abuse, Discrimination, Wanking
AN: Set in the current time frame of Hols, just after Damon returned home from the Snape's and Grant's family has left. Secrets, while sometimes necessary, can often lead to misunderstanding. There is a lot of information available on the internet and while some of it is true there is also misinformation produced in the pursuit of knowledge. We have tried to provide realism to this story but hope to have managed not to disrespect or reveal things we shouldn't while developing our story.
Truth
Damon got up out of bed and called the contractor to make plans to come out to the house and look over one of the smaller barns on their property. Mourning Dove had called a few days ago to say she had still wanted to come and visit more but needed to think a bit about staying permanently.
Damon told her she was always welcome and assured her it was no trouble and that they had plenty of room. He would continue to make preparations for her arrival and had already called the same agency that helped his mother. He was meeting the first set of caregivers for Mourning Dove later that week.
Mourning Dove needed lots of care and he wasn't about to give Rachel any cause to think he couldn't care for the elderly Indian. He wouldn't allow the elderly woman to die on his watch. He cared too much for the matriarch and it felt good to repay the woman for her faith in him to care for her Hummingbird.
Sitting down at Grant's computer, Damon turned on the machine and waited on it to connect to the internet. Most often Grant helped him with this, however Grant had taken to visiting Harry when the younger man wasn't at Sev's shop and was stepping up their cooking lessons. However he could type in and look up some simple plans and styles for Mourning Dove's new home at least.
He clicked on the Google bookmark Grant had set up for him and typed in the information he was looking for. After perusing several sites, he printed off several plans and set them to the side for Grant to look at so they could decide on which designs might best accommodate Mourning Dove.
On impulse, he typed in Pine Ridge to see where it would take him.
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Still chuckling to himself over Harry's latest cooking lesson, Grant got out of his car and went in the kitchen door of the farmhouse. "Damon, honey, I'm back," he called out as he immediately went to the refrigerator to pour himself a glass of tea before moving out of the kitchen. "Are you in the house?" he called out when he didn't find Damon in the living room.
Damon jumped in the chair, he grabbed out the pages he had printed off and stormed out into the living room. He stared at his husband for a moment then threw the papers at the smaller man. "Why?! Why didn't you tell me?!"
Grant stared at his husband wide eyed, clueless as to what he was talking about. "Damon?" he asked warily. "What didn't I tell you?" He stooped down and gathered the papers without looking at them, waiting for his husband to speak.
"Just a winkte, huh Grant?" Damon demanded and walked around his husband's bent form. "Just different?! Not anything special! Why didn't you explain it to me?!" He clenched his fists and turned from the man trying to calm down.
Grant licked his lips, wondering where all of this had come from. "Damon, what is going on?" he asked softly and glanced at some of the papers. "I don't understand, I told you I was different, but in this world it doesn't matter." Grant sighed as his eyes caught bits and pieces of descriptions of how he was raised.
"Don't lie to me again, Grant. You are not just different; you are Winkte!" Damon growled. "Fifty years I have asked for you to tell me and you never did. To share with me what I needed to know and you just pushed me away. I let it go because you asked for it to be private. I respected that and you lied to me." He turned and looked at his husband and lover. "I never lied to you Grant. Never."
Grant stood up to Damon then, his own anger coming to the surface. "What was I supposed to tell you? That in my world I would be asked to name babies and settle arguments? We don't live in my world Damon, we live in yours and what I am has no bearing here, so I buried it." He looked away and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I never went into all the details, but would it have made any difference?"
"What difference does it make? A big difference Grant, a whole hell of a lot of difference! This is part of you and it's more than just naming babies and arguments. You are special and I ruined that! It's always been about you and I couldn't help you when you needed me." Damon pointed at the papers. "I told you that I would help you become a better you and I tried. I never wanted to change you and you lied to me."
"Damon, you did help me become a better me. Look at me, do you think I'd be the same if I were still on the res? Do you think anyone else would have given a damn if I lived or died while trying to have their child? Do you think you forced me to not be that same scared kid I was?" Grant asked as he took a step towards Damon, not sure of what to do, but feeling like he was on a precipice and it was crumbling quickly beneath him. "I became your Grant because that was what I wanted, I never asked to be their sacred cow."
Damon stepped back from Grant. "Think about it, Grant. I would have done things differently if I had known. Many, many things could have been different, possibly better, if I had know what I needed. I have never tried to deny the fact that you were Indian. I never wanted to squelch your heritage. I didn't want to change the young man I met out on the prairie."
"No Damon, you have never once tried to hide the fact I am Indian or try to keep me from it, but I didn't want any part of it and even now there's so much I don't want back in my life. I can't see anything that would have been better Damon. Please, let's sit down and talk, okay?" he asked as he watched his husband of so many years step away from him. "I'm still me." He lifted the papers and shook them slightly. "These do not change that."
Damon threw up his arms in frustration. "But it does change things Grant. David tried to warn me all those years ago but I didn't understand. Mourning Dove is coming and she'll see that I have changed you. That I don't treat you like I should because I am nothing but a white savage. Rachel was right all those years ago and I still don't understand Grant." He backed away again afraid he would do or say something else to his husband. "You aren't listening to me and I can't stay." He grabbed his jacket and ran out the door.
Grant sank to the floor and shuddered as the door slammed behind Damon. What on earth was he supposed to do now? He knew his grandmother wouldn't care a whit that Damon didn't follow traditions, why should he? He wasn't Lakhota.
Slowly, he sat back and began to read all of the articles Damon had printed off, shaking his head as he noted many of the traditions and customs weren't even for his people. Grant began to sort everything into piles; one for what applied to him, one for what was historically right, one for all other nations, and one for what was the white man's idiocy.
He glanced up at the grandfather clock and bit his lip, surely Damon would be home for supper. Grant got to his feet, collecting the stacks of papers, and made his way to the kitchen where he began to cook the evening meal.
Damon had climbed on a cycle in the barn and took off without bothering with a helmet or charms. He thought about everything he had read and said to Grant and replayed the conversation in his mind as he drove. The past invaded and he continued to drive, not paying attention where he was going as he wondered if what they had was gone. He loved Grant and yet, it seemed to him that it was all built on the unstable ground of lies. Little white lies of ommission about something that he felt he should have known.
Once Grant had the food finished and Damon had still not returned, he sat down at the table, putting his face in his hands and cried, wishing that he'd told Damon from the very beginning what sort of freak he was so the man could have just walked away. Now he'd ruined Damon's life, the other man horrified by thinking he'd done something terrible to Grant and he hadn't. Grant had always told Damon that he was different, that he was considered to be special, that he had been raised as a woman, that he was winkte; the only things he'd not done was correct his husband in how he touched him and referred to him. The fact that they lived in the white world had played a huge role in Grant turning away from what he is, but he liked being just Grant for Damon, not this 'holy person' that was supposed to see the future and bring good luck.
Damon pulled into a roadside roach trap and shook his head. He parked the cycle and went into get himself a room. After coming back out and settling into the small space he looked around in disgust. He couldn't believe he was in Asscreek Virginia, driving and thinking so fast and hard, not even realizing he had crossed state lines.
He sat down and contemplated what to do. He couldn't go home yet, not until he figured out exactly what he needed to do to fix things. It was obvious that he wasn't doing something right. He couldn't believe that he had been so blind as to not notice or at least try and see what was hiding just beneath the surface. However, he had only seen what they had done to Grant on the res after they had happened... all because he was white, stupid and didn't understand.
Now, he did though and knew what Rachel had been screaming about taking Grant so far away. Taking care of the other man was so ingrained in him, he picked up the phone and called the farmhouse, charging the call to his credit card.
Breath hitching in his chest, Grant reached out for the phone, his cheeks wet and sticky with tears. "Hello?" he asked in a hoarse and broken voice.
Damon's heart clenched as he heard the other man's voice. He wanted to hang up the phone and go to the other man but he couldn't. He had taken something sacred and destroyed it again. "Grant?"
"Damon..." Grant choked out, trying not to sob openly, "Where are you?" He looked up at the clock and shook when he saw it was nearly eleven at night.
"King's Road Motel." Damon settled back on to the bed and sighed.
Grant had no idea where Damon was talking about. "Where is that?" he asked softly as he wiped at his eyes and took a shuddering breath.
Damon chuckled softly. "Just past the border in Virgina. Did you eat?"
"No, I've been waiting for you. You know I don't ever start a meal without you," Grant sniffled as he looked to the stove, seeing the dried up remains of the meal he'd made. "Have you eaten?"
"Well maybe you should have, Grant. What are you going to do? Starve yourself again?" Damon sighed. "Is this some kind of Indian thing I again don't know or understand?"
Grant closed his eyes and bit his tongue, he deserved that. "No Damon, it's just what I've always done when I thought we'd be eating together. I'll warm something up. Did you eat?"
Damon grunted. "No, I can't eat. My stomach hurts and I don't have my potions." He rubbed the side of his face. He had to ask again even if Grant wouldn't explain it to him. He had to try one more time if only to figure out what to do. "Why, Grant?"
Grant winced, knowing he was the reason Damon was in pain. "There's not just one reason Damon, there were so many at first and then I suppose I just got used to being 'white'. I didn't know how to go about the ceremonies while I was with your parents, I didn't want to draw attention to people that had been so kind to me," he said softly as he closed his eyes and remembered how he'd felt as a young man in such a strange new world. "I loved you so much that I didn't want them to think you were marrying a savage."
"Not once have I ever thought you a savage, Grant and neither would have Mom and Da." Damon swallowed and shook his head. "If I had wanted someone 'white', Grant I would have married a nice white girl like my mother wanted. They understood my feelings, why should you be any different? I loved you and that was all that mattered to them."
"I know you never have Damon, but look at it from my perspective for a moment, okay?" Grant pled softly. "I'd never been that far from home, I was the only Indian there, I was young, scared, unwed and pregnant, living on their kindness. I hadn't been there but six weeks when Joshua was born. I woke up to hear your mother ask John if this meant I was going to put the baby up in a tree in the backyard because that's what those people do. Why do you think I never said anything?"
"You could have set things straight. You could have explained instead of keeping me in the dark. Dammit, I would have made certain you could have grieved back then if I had known!" Damon nearly shouted, getting angry all over again.
"Damn Damon, you know how I was raised, do you think I would have said boo to a mouse at that point? Especially to your father?" Grant snapped back, immediately regretting it. "I'm sorry. You are right; I should have told you everything at the beginning."
"Yes, you should have. I have always told you everything when you asked." Damon growled. "Why do you think I tried so hard to get you out? Why do you think they took you in Grant? No one deserves to live like that. It wasn't out of pity that I loved you and it certain wasn't why they took you in either."
"What can I do? How do I fix this?" Grant whispered softly, not knowing now if he'd ever see his husband again.
"I don't know!" Damon hung his head. "You lied to me Grant. You didn't trust me and I don't know what to think or do. It's like you broke our contract," he said softly, honestly not knowing what to do even though he wanted to Apparate home and hold the other man.
Grant was silent for a few moments, tears running down his cheeks. "Do you want me to pack my things?" he whispered, afraid to speak any louder because he may not be able to keep the crying out of his voice.
"No, Grant I don't. I never wanted you to leave. I love you. I just... I don't know what to do." Damon closed his eyes not wanting to hear the tears he knew were there, not wanting for the other man to hear his own distress.
"Damon, tell me how you think you ruined me," Grant said softly as he pulled the pile of papers to him.
"I don't remember all of it, Grant. But I took you away from your people and you supposed to be a gift to them." Damon whispered softly. "You were so upset that winter when I made you white and now I have gone and done it for real."
Grant sighed softly, he'd heard all of that argument before from the elders and his family, but truth be told, his life would have been miserable if Damon had not come into it. "Damon, I consider myself a gift to you. If I'd been left to them, I most likely would be dead by now, beaten to death by a husband because I didn't produce his children. I was a scared kid then Damon," he said quietly.
"I know and I wanted to take you away from all that, not because you were a gift to them but because I loved you. I didn't want to see you live like that and it was wrong. How they treated you was wrong and I just made it worse by confusing you." Damon swallowed. "I'm sorry Grant. I didn't know what I was doing."
"You don't have anything to apologize for Damon, nothing," Grant whispered softly, he hated knowing that his stubbornness was hurting the other man.
"But I do. Rachel and the others were right; I don't deserve you." Damon's breath hitched and he cleared his throat. "I can't do this right now Grant." He hung up the phone and wrapped his arms about his chest, rocking himself trying not to lose what little control he had left.
Sobbing softly as he heard the click of the phone hanging up, Grant stood and went through the calming motions of cleaning up the kitchen and then went into their bedroom where he simply fell into bed exhausted from crying and all of the emotions. He didn't know what to do anymore or how to find his husband. All he knew was that he was alone and it was his fault. He pulled Damon's pillow to him, inhaling his scent as he cried himself to sleep.
Damon got up the next morning feeling worse than he had yesterday. He hadn't slept, was still confused, his head hurt and his stomach was boiling. He climbed back on his cycle and headed home still unsure what to do about Grant. He felt betrayed in one way yet had anything really changed? Grant had never really followed the traditions anyway but he had needed the tribe to come back from his depression. It was a never ending cycle and only made his stomach hurt more.
Grant woke up sore and stiff, a headache was right behind his eyes, a glance at the clock next to the bed told him it was after noon and the house was dead quiet. Damon was still gone. Determined not to give the other man anything else to be upset about, Grant forced himself out of the bed and into the kitchen, making a peanut butter sandwich and choking it down with a glass of milk before he went back to crawl into bed again. He couldn't face the day.
Damon finally pulled up into the gravel drive and parked his cycle under the tree. His stomach was killing him, he need his medicines and his Injun. He stumbled as he got off the machine, clutching his stomach as he made his way to the house, climbed the stairs and barely made it into the house before falling to his knees. "Grant! Help me!" Damon threw up in the floor, the bile burning his throat as he heaved again and again.
At the sound of his husband's cry, Grant was out of the bed like a shot and running for the kitchen, wand in his hand. "Damon, I'm right here, what do you need?" He looked at the scene and immediately summoned Damon's potions to him along with a towel.
Grant knelt down next to Damon and opened the vials for him before summoning a glass of water and a wet washcloth which he bathed the man's face gently before laying it over the back of his neck. "I'm right here," he murmured as he rubbed Damon's back.
Damon wrapped an arm around the smaller man and nodded. "Potion..." He heaved again but this time nothing came up. "'M sorry, Grant."
Grant tipped the first vial to his husband's lips as he rubbed Damon's back gently. "Shhh... nothing to be sorry for, you just take this and feel better," he murmured softly.
Damon closed his eyes and swallowed down the first potion. He shook his head at the taste and shivered slightly. "I mean it. I'm sorry for leaving." He leaned against the other man, sighing softly as he waited for the medicine to take effect.
Grant brought the next vial up to Damon's lips and tipped it. "Drink it baby, you'll feel better after this one," he said softly as he pulled a chair over to them for his husband to sit. "Have you eaten anything since yesterday?"
Damon drank down the next potions and shook his head. "Couldn't, stomach hurt too much." He sighed and reached out to climb up into the chair. "Hadn't eaten since breakfast yesterday."
"Oh sweet Merlin, come on baby, get up on the chair and I'll fix you something to eat," Grant said as he took Damon's arm. "What would you like? Some eggs maybe?" The small man took the washcloth to the sink, rinsing it out once more in cold water and wiping Damon's face. He got the last potion and placed it next to Damon's hand.
Damon grabbed the hand wiping his face and pulled Grant into his lap, holding to him tightly. "I... you don't have to do that. Still don't think I can eat." He held on to Grant for a long moment not wanting to let the other man go. "I'm sorry I went digging when I shouldn't have," he said softly into the other man's dark hair.
Grant tucked his head under Damon's chin and sighed softly. "I should have told you everything, I'm sorry. Let me make you some toast, okay?"
Damon breathed in Grant's scent and nodded but didn't let go of the other man still. "I do love you Grant and want to do right by you."
"You have taken care of me Damon, don't ever think you haven't," Grant said quietly. "I'll answer any question you have." He shifted on the other man's lap and smiled up at him.
Damon sighed and gave a weak smile to the other man. "No, I haven't. Not like it says I should have been. Grant, I've put you through hell and back and I know it." He laid a finger over the full lips. "However, I can't treat you like they did. I don't know how to. I've done the best that I could and it's not what you are supposed to have. It's like I've desecrated something pure or sacred. You can't tell me that I haven't. You weren't even mine when I took you."
Grant sighed softly. "If we'd been living on the res, then yes, I would've expected to have been treated like that, but we aren't there. I can't be that here, you know that," he said and raised his eyes to Damon's. "I was yours, I was the day you saw me chasing that cow."
Damon snorted. "Okay Grant, I get it. I am stuck with you," he said softly. He reached out and touched the other man's face as if trying to memorize the features. "Why couldn't you trust me enough to tell me back then?"
Grant looked at him wide eyed. "You feel like you are stuck with me?" he asked softly. "Would you have still wanted me?"
Damon made a face. "I don't feel stuck with you. It's a phrase, baby." He sighed and pressed his mouth to Grant's forehead. "I wanted you when I knew I couldn't have you and you were only sixteen. What makes you think I would have changed my mind? I never did once you convinced me that winter that you were my Injun."
Grant nestled back down after he summoned some crackers to the table for Damon. "Eat those. I'd always been told that whites would never understand what I am, that I would be locked up by their churches for being unnatural," he explained as he opened the packet for the other man.
Damon shook his head. "Unnatural huh? And I suppose treating a child like they did was natural? That Rachel sending your cousins and brother to beat you constitutes normalcy? They never did anything like that to Maggie and she was a girl."
"I know, I used to ask why it was always me and they told me it was because I was special. I didn't want to be special anymore. I never told you this, but did you know that I didn't know I wasn't like Maggie until I was nearly fourteen?" Grant asked with a shake of his head. "Before you, I didn't know how to be a boy really."
Damon blanched. "How could you not know you were a boy? What kind of parents do that to someone?! Grant, your dick isn't there just for decoration." His stomach rolled again and he covered his mouth and closed his eyes.
Grant got to his feet and got Damon a glass of 7-up and some ice. "Here baby," he said and took his spot on the other man's lap again. "Damon, I never saw anyone undressed until the day I walked in on Maggie taking a bath. I didn't know I wasn't made like her and I cried for days." He pursed his lips for a moment and shrugged. Grant had never really spoken of growing up to anyone, not even Damon, ashamed of what he was and how stupid he'd felt.
Damon thought about Grant's words and sipped the drink, making a face as he did so. He pulled a cracker from the open package on the table and nibbled on it. "But why didn't you tell me later? So many things I could have... should have done differently." He shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me after that then? You should have known by then that I wasn't going to leave. You've seen me at my worst and then some and you still didn't trust me enough to tell me. Merlin, Grant all this time and I feel like I've done something wrong."
"Most of the time I never had to say anything, you simply let me express myself how I felt comfortable doing so. How would you have treated me differently? I mean really, what could you have done that you haven't?" Grant asked as he lightly stroked Damon's fingers.
Damon closed his eyes. "I might have been a bit easer to live with if I had known why you had taken to the woman's role a little easier. It could have made a lot of things easier." He took a deep breath. "Do... do you want to go back being Gracie?"
"You mean full time, like in public?" Grant asked softly, his dark eyes fixed on Damon's face. "I thought you had understood when I'd told you I had been raised like a woman."
"Yes. In public." Damon said softly then shook his head, never opening his eyes. "I thought you meant to cook and clean. Womanly things." He sighed. "I mean you were out herding cattle the first time I met you, Grant what was I supposed to think?"
Grant shook his head and stroked Damon's face gently. "No baby, I can't do that to you. And yes, I meant those things as well. I was out after that cow because no one else would go; they always stuck me with the crap jobs."
Damon opened his blue eyes and looked at Grant. "It doesn't matter what I want Grant. Don't you see? I've already taken enough things away from you. I won't do that anymore. If that's what you want then I can live with it. You deserve your right to your heritage and I am sorry I didn't understand it before."
Grant shook his head. "I don't want to dress in women's clothing out in public. I'm Grant Wolffe here, I am happy as Grant. At home once in awhile, you've been alright with letting me wear a nightgown to bed and I'm good with that. I don't like dresses anyhow, they make me look short," he said and smiled. "I accept your apology if you will accept mine for not being whatever the hell I am and telling you in the beginning."
Damon closed his eyes again. "You've always been Grant to me. Not some thing that deserved to be treated like Rachel treated you. It makes me hate her all the more for what she has done to you." He took a deep breath and touched Grant's face. "Makes me angry that Mourning Dove allowed it as well. She's always been on my side. She told me that you would always be mine when she named me and to take good care of you like my name said I should."
Grant nodded; he'd had many years to come to terms with his family and his treatment as a child. "No, but in all fairness, they didn't know what to do with me. Don't be angry with Grandmother, she was always there to keep Marvin away from me and Mom from getting too angry with me. At least until she moved to Kyle, but I did learn a lot from her," he said as he stroked his fingers through Damon's hair. "I don't even know how I would have told you back then."
Damon moaned softly as the tanned fingers carded through his hair and he turned to kiss Grant's slim wrist. "That's still no reason to treat a child like that. Would ours... would one of our children have been sent back there to them since I took their winkte? Returned there to take your place?"
Grant looked at Damon solemnly. "It would have been over my dead body, I would never allow my mother to raise anything I loved. It wouldn't have been like you paying them back with a child and I'm sure most of them are glad I'm gone," he shrugged, wanting Damon to understand he would have never allowed anyone to harm one of their children.
Damon nodded and pulled Grant close to him, holding tightly to him once more as if reassuring himself the other man was still there. "One site I went to said that winktes were considered good luck and if the tribe was without one then they would invade the next tribe over and steal one. They would take them into battle and winkte's do some kind of Sun Dance. It sounded horrible." He rubbed his face in Grant's chest, muffling his words as they sounded silly to him but he didn't know what was for real and what wasn't.
Grant nodded as Damon spoke. "Yes, winkte normally bless the pole used for the Sun Dance and in the past, some tribes would steal winkte from another," he said as he pulled the stack of papers over to them. "A lot of what you have here is for other people and it has nothing to do with me, some of it is history and no longer practiced. This pile here has things in it that pertain to me." He looked up into Damon's eyes and bit his lower lip. "Honestly, how would you have treated me?"
Damon sighed and closed his eyes again. "Like you were more precious than anything I could ever hope to have in my life. Not been so insensitive about the clothing. Anything better than treat you like I have been."
Grant laughed softly. "Baby, you've always treated me like I was the most precious thing in your world. I couldn't have asked for any more. The clothing isn't a big deal Damon. There was only one thing I had problems with and I just had to learn, but it's okay."
Damon looked up at his husband. "What was it? I'll fix it. I promise Grant and it will never happen again."
Grant shook his head. "Shhhh, it's nothing and I like it both ways now, okay?" he said as he started to get up. "I'm going to make you something to eat now."
Damon grabbed Grant's arm. "No, you have to tell me. Don't keep anything else from me, Grant. I... I don't think I can take something like this again." His blue eyes pleaded with his husband. "I've never kept anything from you, Grant. I may not have always been tactful or polite about things but I have always told you when you asked."
Grant looked down and blushed as he took Damon's hand in his. "It's when you touch me here," he whispered and placed his husband's hand over his soft penis and bit his lip. "It was so different, what you showed me."
Damon squeezed his husband's crotch gently and slowly pushed against the other man, running his hand back and forth over the flaccid flesh. He started to cup the small prick then left his hand flat against Grant and rubbed more firmly. "It was the only way I knew and you were only seventeen. I wasn't certain you knew what you were doing."
Instinctively, Grant pushed against Damon's hand with his hips, holding still as he was handled. "I know and I never complained, or at least I don't think I did," he said softly as his body began to respond. "But I learned that what you showed me felt good, I was just too stubborn to let go of what I knew." He covered Damon's hand with one of his own and pressed down.
Damon nuzzled his husband gently. "Do you want me to do this like this from now on?" He slowed his movement, pressing harder on Grant's groin. "Am I doing it right?"
Grant looked at Damon for a moment and then undid his trousers, exposing himself. "Like this..." he said softly as he positioned his swelling prick to lie flat against his stomach and then Damon's hand over it so that his thumb was rubbing against the little knot of nerves below the head of his cock, the man's other fingers spread and just rubbing him. Grant put his hand over Damon's once more, briefly and pressed it against him harder. "Like you'd tease my clit." He touched Damon's thumb and bit his lip as his husband moved his hand.
Damon resisted the urge to wrap his fingers around Grant and stroke him. Instead, he rubbed his thumb across the darkened head and pressed against Grant's firm belly. "But it's not a clit. It's a prick and it deserves to be stroked and worshiped," he said softly and licked Grant's ear.
Grant's eyes rolled as Damon touched him the way he touched himself when he masturbated, the sensations of another's hand doing this to him was overwhelming. He shuddered and whined as Damon played with him and looked at him as he spoke. "Alright," he whispered as he tried to calm down a little.
Damon continued to rub on Grant like he had been showed and talked to him. "Alright what? Does it feel better like this?" He pressed harder, moving his hand faster against the other man and kissed the side of his face. "Do you want me to continue like this?"
"Feels so good when you touch me like this," Grant murmured, licking his lips and spreading his legs. "It's how I touch myself. You're making me feel so good." Grant's head dropped back and he clung to Damon, his hips trembling, as his little prick began to leak.
Damon ran his thumb over the slit gathering the moisture there and rubbing it into the velvety skin. "You are so beautiful my Grant," he whispered. "I'll do anything to keep you for my own. I promise."
The muscles in Grant's stomach were trembling visibly and his thighs shaking as Damon brought him closer to completion. "Always yours," he keened softly, his small prick twitching under Damon's fingers, his own fingers digging into Damon's arm as his body began to curl in on itself. "I feel it..."
"Then come for me, my angel."
Tears rolled down Grant's cheeks as his essence spilled over his flat belly; he made no sound part from a small gasp that sounded close to surprise before he went limp in the other man's arms. "Yours," he whispered as he picked up Damon's hand from his body and kissed each finger gently. "You may touch me any way you like Damon as long as you touch me."
Damon nodded, pulled Grant close to him and held him against his chest. He took a deep breath, inhaling the man's scent once again and rocked him in his arms. "I'm sorry Grant."
"So am I," Grant murmured as he nestled himself within the safety of Damon's arms.