Change Your Stars
8
8.
Truthfully, Liv wasn’t entirely sure what he would find when he had visited Damon Buchanan in his natural habitat. Sure he felt a bit of trepidation as hestood in front of the Buchanan building in all it’s imposing concrete and steel beamed glory… Though he did feel discomfort being near the garage,
nevermind that it was across the street.
Dressed in his casual Levi’s, henley and leather boots and jacket ensemble, Liv waltzed right in carrying Damon’s briefcase in hand.
He smiled at the girl in the front desk, eyeing the elevators in his peripherals.
He watched her baby blues clock him from the roots of his hair down to his booted feet, “Good morning, welcome to Buchanan Inc, is there something I can
do to assist you?”
Her words were polite, but Liv read the ‘fuck me over the counter’ between the lines.
He smiled politely, “Morning, sugar. I’m looking for Mr. Buchanan. He’s not expecting me.”
She looked slightly distressed, “Oh! uhm… That may be a problem, you see… Well, I…” she looked flustered, typing erratically over her keyboard, “President Buchanan prefers that no one be let in without an appointment.” She looked apologetic.
Oliver leaned against the tall counter, smiling down at her with all his bad boy charm, “What’s your name, sugar?”“Bethany…” her eyes were wide, as she tucked a blonde strand behind her ear.
“Bethany…” Liv tried out her name, his voice deepening, purposely making it sound like sex, “Mm, I knew my nickname was on point, the name on you sounds sweet.” he cocked his head to the side, “Sugar, I’m a friend of his, just trying to drop off his briefcase.” he held it up for her to see, “I’m sure he’ll understand if I show up unannounced.”
When Bethany look about ready to argue Liv sighed dramatically, “Bethany oh, sweet Bethany, I promise it’ll only take me two shakes to drop this off and be on my merry way.” he reached over and grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over the smooth skin, “Be a doll and buzz me up, yeah?”
“...Okay.” her voice came out breathy and her eyes turned liquidy.
Gotcha.
He pressed his lips to her knuckles, “Angel of Mercy.”
Of course Damon would be on the top floor, thirteen stories high and along the way Liv met an onslaught of people.
Thankfully not in large groups.
Didn’t think he could handle a large group of strangers.
A lot of them made small talk, the men joked, the women flirted, a few men flirted as well… Liv was amused… for about two seconds.
Dear God in heaven, these fuckers had absolutely no idea who Damon was. He didn’t let on that was Damon was a friend of his, keeping his reasons for being
here vague, but polite, giving these bastards room to talk.
‘Oh Demon Buchanan? Well, just watch what you say and your thoughts, it’s like the man could read your mind!’
‘He’s gorgeous, but totally undateable. He’s so… brr cold!’
‘Professional man, would eat you alive if you showed even the slightest weakness.’
‘I heard he’s cold-blooded.’
‘I heard he’s uptight! Guy can’t take a joke, let alone crack one!’
‘Board meetings are so tense! Once a girl broke down and ran from the room, she’s currently seeing a therapist. Said that Buchanan put so much stress on her that she just couldn’t handle it. Crazy.’
‘The man doesn’t sleep! He’s like a machine, does the same thing every day, to.the.T!’
‘He can make money like it’s a God given gift, but everyone knows next to nothing about him. Compete mystery.’
‘I heard he killed someone.’
‘I heard he’s part of the mafia.’
‘One girl said that he’s like a robot, no feelings, cold. Efficient. Complete cyborg. A seriously hot cyborg.’
Liv thought back to the laughing man he’d have beers with on the balcony every night. The man who loved his daughter so much that not two days
ago he watched the movie ‘Frozen’ over and over again, willing to sing the songs with her just to make her happy. The man who held him when he recalled
the horrible night he found him in an alley way. The man who took him in when he was broken, gave him a job, a place to heal and mend… No, he wasn’t no
fuckin ‘Demon Buchanan’, if that were true, then Angels were fucking assholes. Damon wasn’t any of those things they thought him to be and the knowledge
that they judged him to be that way pissed Liv way the hell off.
When he had finally reached the top, he was met with a pair of green eyes and fiery red hair, staring at him with a cool expression.
“Natalie?” Liv guessed, and those eyes twinkled like emeralds.
“Mr. Grey.” she bowed her head, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
He and Natalie have been exchanging various telephone conversations over the past few weeks and not once did he expect her to look like this.
Can you say, complete fucking knockout?
With a french styled blouse with a big, loose bow hanging from her collar, skin fair as snow, a light sprinkle of freckles on the bridge of her nose, big green
eyes and that hair. That flash of color was working for her.
“You weren’t what I expected.” he said honestly.
Pink lips curved into a small smile, “Funny, you don’t surprise me at all.”
Liv opened his mouth in mock indignation, “Well, excuse me. Offensive much?”
“I’m pretty sure Ms. Jones at front desk was not offended.” more eye twinkling.
“How did you--?”
She pointed to camera monitors on her desk, “I see everything, Mr. Grey.”
“Snoop.”
“Slut.”
Surprised laughter bubbled out of him, “Wooo, there’s my girl.” he smiled, “He know I’m here?”
Natalie shook her head slightly, “Nope. But I’ll buzz you in, no need to slobber all over my hand.”
“You wound me, fair lady.”
She smiled with warmth, “I think you’ll live, Mr. Grey.”
When Damon heard his door open he expected to see Natalie’s lithe form informing him of something he needed to do, or an appointment he had to keep or even to remind him to eat something. What he did not expect was Liv in all his jean clad, biker boy glory to be standing in his office.
“What are you doing there, Trollop?”
Liv lifted his arm to reveal a leather briefcase and promptly laughed while Damon’s gaze shot down to his feet.
“Shit.”
“Forget something, old man?”
Liv was trying not to laugh at Damon’s pouty expression, “No harm no foul, Buchanan. I had some spare time before I go get my check up.”
Dark brows rose towards his fucking fantastic hairline, “A medical check up?”
Liv nodded gravely, “I know… such a grown up thing to do. You’re rubbing off on me, Chief.”
“Use your insurance.”
“I have insurance?”
“Uhm, yeah, don’t you ever look at your paycheck stubs?”
Truthfully Liv tried not to stare too long at his paychecks, they were just too ridiculous. Damon paid him practically a fortune and when he tried to negotiate,
Damon would get this expression dark enough to shut Liv the hell up.
Okaay, note to self: do not talk to Damon about money. Dark Damon is not a pleasant Damon.
Maybe he should ask for a direct deposit.
“How much coverage?” Liv asked curiously.
“Full.”
Of course…
“How did you get up here?” Damon asked as he stood to round his massive desk. When Liv
looked sheepish he was instantly on alert.
“You didn’t molest anyone did you?”
“Excuse me?” his bright blues glittered dangerously, with his dark hair flowing around his face in inky waves, Damon thought he looked like a lion ready to
pounce.
“Am I wrong?” and there it was, Damon’s infamous eyebrow raise coupled with his signature head tilt.
“I schmoozed your receptionist, big flippin’ deal, D.” he gave up, rolling his eyes as he handed Damon his briefcase.
“Trollop.”
“I like to use the term, ‘resourceful’.”
“If that helps you sleep at night.”
“You help me sleep at night.”
Well that shut Damon up pretty good.
At Damon’s sudden silence, Liv decided to change the subject.
“This is a very nice office.” Liv said almost absently as he walked to the massive window behind Damon’s desk. Clasping his tanned hands behind his back,
his legs braced wide he stared down at the busy city below, “You kinda feel like you’re on…”
“Top of the world?”
“Yeah, s’kinda cool.” Liv slipped his hands into his pockets.
Funny he should have seemed at odds with the fancy decor and modern state of the art furniture, but Liv was the type of man who can feel comfortable
anywhere.
“Kinda lonely though…” Liv said in an almost afterthought.
This intrigued Damon, “Really? Why is that?”
“I mean, look at this place.” Liv threw his arms out toward the spacious area “This freaking place is bigger than most apartment complexes in the city, and
you’re the only one who uses this office and when you look out this window… You probably do it alone.” He shrugged, “‘Dunno. Seems kinda lonely.”
It was.
Though he didn’t tell Liv that.
“You know what they say about you, Buchanan?”
Ah.
Damon kept his face impassive, even as he stood next to Oliver, staring out into the city, two men on top of the world.
“The ‘Demon’ thing?” He saw Oliver nod slightly at the corner of his eye, “Yeah, they’re not a clever bunch in that aspect, but they get the work done. That’s
all I care about.”
“Doesn’t it bother you? That they got you pegged all wrong?”
“Do they?” Damon’s voice lowered, voice deep, almost a whisper. Oliver snapped his head to look at him, eyes narrowed, assessing.
“I think they do.”
“You don’t know me.” Damon shook his head.
“I know you better than they do.” Point.
The days that followed were… Interesting. When Damon had came home that day when Liv visited the office, him and Liv had their usual ‘Beer on
the Balcony’ ritual.
“So.” Damon took a long pull of his beer.
“So.” Liv had said back, brushing his inky locks from his face.
“What did the doctor say?”
Liv made a face, then shrugged, “Oh you know the usual: three cracked ribs, said to thank God for granting me with a thick skull, since I was lucky with the
minor concussion. Then I got reamed, because if I had come in sooner my injuries wouldn’t be so extensive, did you know that my wrist is sprained?”
Damon just eyed him with his dark stare, so Oliver sighed, “Just gotta keep them wrapped up, D… Otherwise I’m good. A bit broken, but good.”
Damon was nodding when Liv added, “Plus he gave me the good stuff for the pain.” then Damon was shaking his head.
“You’re such an idiot.”
Damon’s house was different when Liv was around. He’d never seen so much activity. Imagine his surprise to find Max and Cora, along with Karl
and to his surprise, Natalie, in his kitchen one night.
“Hey hey, he’s finally home.” Oliver’s electric blue eyes were positively glowing as he smiled.
Damon felt warm.
“Hey there Boss.” Karl waved from his seat, tilting his beer bottle in his direction.
Damon nodded and caught Natalie’s eyes, “I thought you said you had something to do tonight.”
The redhead grinned, sipping her margarita, “I did, a dinner party I was invited to.”
His baby girl was currently sitting in Max’s lap, but when she saw him walk through the door, she grinned up at the pretty brunette, “Daddy’s home.”
Elle jumped from Max’s arms and was on him so fast that if Damon had blinked, he probably wouldn’t have seen her move.
“Isn’t this great Papa?”
Damon was studying his daughter’s face. When was the last time he saw her so full of excitement?
Next to never.
“Are you having a good time, sweetheart?” He dropped his suitcase by the door and gathered Elle into his arms.
She was already nodding, “I’ve never seen so many people here before!” she leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Livvy said that I’m the Lady of the House,
so when we have guests, I’m supposed to make them feel welcome.”
“Oh?” he felt his mouth twitch at the seriousness of her tone.
“Mmhm, but to be honest Daddy… Being this ‘welcoming’ is very tiring.”
Damon tsked, “Well we can’t have that, but Elle baby… Being welcoming doesn’t have to mean you have to be perky. Just be yourself. You just have to let
them know that you’re pleased to have them in your home.”
He let her down as she nodded absently, digesting what he said.
He spotted Oliver behind the counter in the kitchen, mixing some drinks.
Damon thought he looked like a biker version of Tom Cruise in Cocktail.
When he got close enough, Oliver leaned close to whisper, “Thank God you spoke to her. I tried to tell her, but she insisted that was what ‘welcoming’ was. I
can tell she was getting tired. Poor girl, tried so hard.”
When Elle was rubbing her eyes, Cora, Max’s girlfriend offered to put her to bed and was already ushering the Lady of the House to bed. The little girl offered
no resistance.
It was strange.
He had lived here for years, but looking at it now… He wasn’t even sure it was the same house.
It seemed livelier somehow. Dark eyes scanned the room to find the source.
He knew it was because of Oliver.
Oliver threw his head back, laughing at something someone said… And the warmth Damon felt in his chest grew warmer.
Liv felt Damon slip into bed later that night. He had gotten used to it now, being in bed with Damon. The first few nights were tense, but after a
while, it seemed pretty comfortable.
“Dead to the world?” Oliver asked sleepily.
“Is there any other way she sleeps?”
Their little get together had ended a few hours ago. Both men just finished cleaning up.
Damon turned to Liv, drawing the other man into his arms and Liv went with it without protest.
This was how they slept.
It was weird, but the nightmares didn’t fuck with him as much when they slept this way.
When Liv’s breathing got too rapid and panicky, Damon would rub his back or his chest and soothe him with soft words and reassurances.
Liv appreciated that.
“Thank you.” Liv felt the words more than he heard it, since Damon said it with his mouth close to the back of his neck.
Oliver suppressed a shiver.
“For what?” He tried to sound normal, but it came out raspy. Please let him think it was his sleepy voice.
“I’ve never seen my girl like that.”
“What? Being forcibly perky?”
“Exactly, she was trying to make everyone comfortable.”
“Eh?”
He heard Damon sigh, “Usually she would just say hello and hide in her room. But she’s…”
Liv smiled, “Opening up.”
“Right.”
“No need to thank me for that, I’d do anything for that girl.”
Then Damon made Liv turn to him, which brought them face to face. His expression soft, even in the dark.
“Thank you. I mean it.” Damon touched the side of Oliver’s face, feeling the rough stubble underneath his palm.
Oliver’s expression softened, “You’re welcome, D.”
Tonight’s night terror was one of Oliver’s worst ones. With a panicked gasp and a shuddering breath, Oliver tossed violently, his lips peeled back in a sneer as
he hissed, like he was in pain.
Damon was already wide awake, looking at him, his dark eyebrows bunched together as he frowned.
Then he heard Liv whimper and he could see the rapid eye movement underneath his closed lids, after a while Damon couldn’t take it anymore.
“Hey… Hey,” Damon said softly, his voice as gentle as he placed his hand on Oliver’s sweat damp shoulder.
Usually Oliver woke up immediately, but tonight he freaked out, his pale eyes open but unseeing. He didn’t make a noise, but his wide eyed expression was
enough, that and the hand that gripped Damon’s wrist was borderline painful.
“Liv, it’s me… You’re okay.” Blue eyes still didn’t recognize him, so Damon tried again, “Livvy, you’re okay, you’re with me. You’re safe.”
It fucking killed him to see him like this.
Liv didn’t seem to hear him, he snapped his head to the side, eyes drawn to the corner of the room, still unseeing.
He looked pale under his tan as Oliver laid back, his fists bunched at his sides.
Like he was holding himself back.
Damon watched Oliver’s naked chest rise and fall, sometimes deeply, sometimes shallow. He noted that Liv’s breathing would deepen when Damon touched
him, so he made sure he always kept contact.
Damon’s hands roamed in an almost lazy exploration, slow, deliberate. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing or what he was trying to
accomplish, but that didn’t seem to stop him or his hands. Damon lay on his side while Liv lay flat, his jaw so tense that Damon thought with anymore
pressure the man’s teeth would shatter. Oliver was sweating, making his skin glisten in what little light Damon had.
What the fuck are you doing, Buchanan?
Even as he asked himself this question, Damon was pressing his lips along Oliver’s scruffy jawline, his hand squeezing Liv’s hard pectorals, palm rubbing over
the man’s nipples, feeling them harden into beads underneath his hand.
Oliver made a small sound, it was a cross between a gasp and a hiss as he arched his back slightly, pushing his chest into Damon’s hand, tilting his jaw to
give Damon more access to the hard column of his throat.
Dangerous waters, Buchanan.
Even as he warned himself, Damon dove in. No thought, no hesitation. He was so tired of thinking.
No attachments, son. They will lead to your downfall, Preston Buchanan’s words echoed in head.
Shut the fuck up, Damon told his ghost.
Oliver was having the strangest dream. Well the first part of the dream was normal. Screaming, that was normal.
Feeling the elastic of his sleep pants slide over his hips, however, was not normal.
But it felt so damned good, Liv almost didn’t want to question it.
Had to be a dream though. He wasn’t really pushing his hands into Damon’s dark hair, grasping the man's scalp (none to gently, he felt compelled to add)
and was slowly grinding his hips into Damon’s handsome face, into that petal soft mouth, feeling the man’s slight stubble under his fingers as he clamped
his hand under Damon’s angled jaw. Oliver thought it felt too real even as he surged his dick into the man’s mouth again and again.
“Oh shit… That’s good.” he moaned, his voice feeling raw, sounding hoarse.
Damon was trying not to choke on the man’s cock.
But he had to admit, it wasn’t bad for his first try, it was kind of an ‘learn as you go’ sort of thing.
He had never given a man a blowjob before, but he knew how he, himself, like to be sucked.. But then again, everyone was different. Just because he liked
having his dick sucked a certain way didn’t mean Oliver would like it… Still, he had some sort of foundation to work on. Though Damon didn’t think he’d be
able to admit it out loud, but he rather enjoyed staring up at Oliver as the man lost control.
There was something empowering about it, it was something he could get addicted to.
Liv felt like he was about to lose his shit. Damon was taking turns in running his tongue over his balls and running it up his rigid shaft with aggravating
patience.
Like he was deliberately trying to make him lose his fucking mind.
Liv wasn’t sure if he was more irritated at mere thought of Damon doing it on purpose or that it was working.
“You like that?”
Oliver felt the question warm on his sack and he tilted his head back more into the pillows with a deep groan that felt like it came from his chest, “Fuck.
Yeah.” he panted.
Damon nuzzled his balls, “Mm, tell me what you like.”
Jesus, fuck. “Shit… Suck on my balls. Lick them, tug on ‘em while you jack me… Yeah, just like that, oh fuck! Fuck, that’s good.”
goddamned mind.
Christ, it had been a while since anyone had touched him. He didn’t want anyone touching him.
This fictitious Damon was obviously the exception.
Or was Damon the exception? Damn it all, it was hard to think right now.
Liv felt teeth at the inside of his thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get his attention.
“Stay.” was all Damon said.
So Fictitious Damon was a fucking mind-reader too?
Figures. The real Damon was sure as fuck one.
“You want me… here?” Damon fingers were poking at his entrance, but that devastatingly beguiling mouth hovered over the engorged head of his dick, “Or
you wanna finish here?”
Oliver normally didn’t bottom for anyone. It was difficult to let anyone have that kind of power over him.
To bottom was to trust.
strung out, his nerves were tight, his body felt like taut string, ready to snap.
“I,” Liv gasped, clutching at Damon desperately, “can’t handle anymore…”
Damon smiled at him, his two dimpled smile, damn he liked that smile, “I’m not trying to torture you, dumbass.”
His expression must have conveyed his disbelief, because Damon sighed and admitted, “Only a little, but the intent was to make you feel good.”
“You’re doing well in that department.”
“I do aim to please, sir.”
Jesus! “Shit, man. Did you just call me ‘sir’? You’re gonna make me bust a nut with words like that, D.”
“Mmm.” Damon sighed, his lips playfully nipping at the swollen head, tongue darting out slightly to play with the small hole, “Kinda the point, right?”
Oliver woke up feeling boneless. A feeling he was familiarized with post intercourse... But he didn’t have sex last night, did he?
Then he noted the brawny arm thrown across his torso. Liv knew both his arms were accounted for but…
Last night’s terror flashed back in his mind, sending an involuntary shudder coursing through his body. Fuck that was a bad one…
“Liv.” he heard before Damon’s handsome face, soft with sleep, filled his vision.
Which immediately brought him back to the second part of the dream.
Without saying anything he pulled the covers back and was struck dumb.
His pants were gone.
Oliver wasn’t sure how to process this information.
The image of him coming in Damon’s mouth, Damon sucking languidly on his softening cock, cleaning him, the small smile that curved his lips as he looked
up at Liv, mischief glittering the dark depths of his eyes.
“Was it bad?” Damon was asking him now, ripping him from thoughts of Damon’s mouth, Damon’s hands, Damon’s fucking tongue.
“Bad?” Liv repeated, heart stopping, unsure of what Damon was talking about.
“Last night, looked like you were having it rough.”
Which was partly true, the first part at least.
“Yeah, sorta.” Liv grumbled, running his hand through his hair.
“But it looked like you got over it pretty quickly.”
That made him pause.
“You’re welcome, by the way.” Damon’s lips curved into a small smile, half dimple.
Cheeky fucker.
Oliver felt heat rush into his cheeks to the tips of his ears, “Son of a bitch, that wasn’t a dream was it.”
Not a question, but Damon’s full dual dimpled smile was his answer.
TBC…
A/N:
Hee hee, I feel like I’m always apologizing for taking so long to update…
BUT, I’m super thankful for the people who stuck with me and put up with my shit :)
I’m really feeling these characters, molding them, adding more depth as I continue to write.
I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Thank you for reading.
Yours,
J. Reverie