Pure Innocence (15 page)

He did need help, so much help.

“
That’s it. Breathe in for
me, in…out. And again, in…out.”

Oliver floated a little; he could listen to
the doctor’s voice forever.

“
Damon tells me you’ve been
having a lot of nightmares, Oliver.”

“
Mmm.”

“
Keep breathing. Easy.
In…out. Oliver, when you have nightmares, what’s the first thing
you become aware of? It could be an image, a feeling, even a
smell.”

Oliver didn’t want to think about it. He
tried not to answer.

The warehouse.

“
I don’t want you to think
about the actual nightmare. Just how you feel. What are you aware
of first?

“
The warehouse, it’s cold,”
Oliver whispered.

“
What’s the first thing you
notice when you go in?”

“
It smells damp, musty.
Like something’s—”
Died.
Yes that was it, like death.

“
Good Oliver, very good.
Now, just stay with that smell. You don’t need to see anything, you
don’t need to remember anything. Just breathe in slowly, and tell
me where you feel it. What part of your body does it touch
first?”

Oliver frowned. Where? It was a smell, it
would be in his nose. But, wait… No, no it wasn’t. “It’s my chest.
It’s tight.” Oliver’s right hand rubbed it slowly. The smell was in
his chest, and his heart thudded. Sometimes he felt the smell was
in his skin, but he felt it first in his chest.

“
Very good. In…out.
Excellent.” Oliver breathed, steady, peaceful.

“
Now, and this is very
important, I want you to think of a smell you like. It could be
flowers, baking. Hot chocolate.”

Damon.
Oliver smiled. His cologne, his skin. The way his words
wafted over him. If he thought really hard, he could taste
him.

“
Good, good.” Oliver barely
heard the doctor.

“
Now, think of the
warehouse, but it smells different. That smell you love so much is
there, breathe in slowly.”

Oliver did. Damon was holding him, he could
vaguely hear shouts, the sound of people running.

“
Breathe in deeply. In,
out. Lungs filling. It smells wonderful. Not such a bad
place.”

Oliver inhaled softly, slowly. It was
easier, easier to breathe. Damon was holding him.

“
Good. Now, every time you
see the warehouse, you’re not going to think about the awful smell,
you’re going to think about the good one. Breathe in and out
slowly, fill your lungs. That’s it. We’re just going to sit here a
while and just breathe.”

Oliver floated, safe. He could stay here.
Stay here a really long time. Every so often Master Jameson would
just remind him to breathe, but he didn’t need to really, Damon was
with him.

“
Oliver, it’s safe to wake
up now.”

Oliver blinked and opened his eyes. The
doctor was sitting back in the chair, smiling.

He felt the couch bounce, and Oliver turned
to meet a pair of anxious gray eyes. Damon was back, and Oliver
smiled happily. Damon rested a hand on his arm, and Master Jameson
got up, addressing Damon. “Same time tomorrow?”

Damon stood also, and thanked him. They both
walked out of the lounge, and Damon followed him out into the
hallway. Oliver leaned back, gazing ruefully as both the Doms
walked out. It was a good thing Master Jameson had come when he
did. Oliver was afraid he was going to start telling the doctor
something really stupid that would take him away from Damon. Oliver
would have to be really careful, because he very much wanted to
stay.

****

Derek leaned against the wall while they
were waiting for the elevator. “I can’t discuss anything Oliver
tells me, only treatment in generalized terms.”

Damon shut his mouth with a snap and grinned
ruefully.

“
I’m treating him for PTSD.
It’s highly likely that his recent trauma wasn’t the original cause
of his nightmares. Starting Monday I want him to come to the clinic
at Gage’s house. Adam volunteers there on a Monday. I think a
friendly face would be a good thing. When he’s familiar with the
surroundings, I will slowly introduce him into group sessions. I
want to review his medication as well.” Derek gazed at Damon. “Baby
steps.”

Damon nodded. “It’s unrealistic to expect a
fast solution to something that’s likely been years in the making.”
He wasn’t too sure he knew what reviewing his medication meant
though. Oliver seemed to be on a lot of tablets.

Derek smiled gently. “Exactly.” He turned to
press the button for the elevator. “Has Oliver been out of the
apartment at all since he was discharged?”

Damon shook his head. “Is that
important?”

Derek looked thoughtful. “It would be better
if his first time isn’t when he’s due to come for therapy. Maybe…a
walk? Somewhere safe. Any sign of distress, though, stop. Call
me.”

“
You think he might not
want to go outside?” Damon felt alarm snaking up his
back.

Derek rested his hand on Damon’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to borrow trouble, or give you any reason to worry.
Sometimes agoraphobia can be a symptom, and I wanted you to be
aware of it. Let me know.”

Damon walked back inside. It seemed every
day there was something else out of his control, something else
that could go wrong.

He heard Oliver in the kitchen and walked
in. Oliver had managed to open the fridge and he was peering
in.

Damon shook off his worry. “You gonna feed
me?” he teased.

Oliver smiled back happily, accepting the
joke. In no time they were eating sandwiches, same as usual, but
Damon didn’t mind. It was something Oliver could manage. Damon
glanced out the tiny kitchen window. “It’s lovely outside. I’d like
to show you the boardwalk here.”

Oliver glanced up, interested. “I’d like
that. Have you always lived in Tampa?”

Damon reached for his water, pleased with
the reaction. “No, we moved here from Atlanta when I was about six,
but I don’t really remember it. No dad around, and Mum was sick. My
granddad was here so it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
That’s what he’d been told anyway.

Oliver continued to stare, waiting, so Damon
continued. “My mum had cancer. She died around six months after we
moved. Unfortunately my granddad had a stroke shortly afterwards. I
had no other family, that’s why I went into care.”

“
I’m sorry.” Oliver snaked
a hand across the table, and Damon rubbed it gently, without
thinking. Then he nearly held his breath; Oliver had moved his left
hand without realizing.

Damon wanted to shout in excitement. It was
the first time Oliver had moved it all the way automatically.
Oliver had tried to move it so many times before, he remembered,
but this was the first time it hadn’t seemed to hurt.

Without questioning, Damon lifted the hand
to his lips, and caught the look of astonishment on Oliver’s face
as he breathed a small kiss onto the palm. The astonishment was
replaced by a look of pleasure. Good. Derek had his relaxation
techniques, but Damon had a few of his own.

“
How about that walk? It’s
not cold outside, but a sweatshirt won’t hurt. You can always take
it off.” Oliver didn’t have any fat on him at all to keep him warm.
Damon grinned—he sounded like Annie, it had to be seventy degrees
out there. He still helped Oliver put a sweatshirt on
though.

Lifting his arms above his head had made
even t-shirts painful at first, but now so long as he was careful,
Oliver’s shoulders didn’t bother him at all. Damon grabbed his
sunglasses and a pair he’d bought for Oliver. He shoved his wallet
and his keys in his back pocket, and held the door open. Oliver
hesitated, so Damon gently snagged his right hand. He was pleased
when he felt Oliver trying to curl his fingers around his own.
Keeping a close eye on his boy for any signs of distress, he
pressed the button for the elevator.

It was sunny outside, so Damon paused and
repositioned the sunglasses on Oliver.

“
Thank you,” Oliver said
quietly.

They walked. He’d been glad they’d chosen a
fairly early time before the schools got out. The boardwalk would
have been busy then. Oliver jumped a little when a dog barked, but
other than that he seemed to be content to wander along.

They paused by the railing and looked at the
bay. Oliver inhaled. “I love how the water smells.”

Damon smiled indulgently. “Do you like the
beach?”

Oliver hesitated, and his smile dimmed a
little. Damon immediately cursed the sunglasses, he wanted to see
Oliver’s eyes.

“
I don’t actually
know.”

Damon paused. He didn’t know?

“
I’ve never
been.”

“
Well, that’s okay.” Damon
led him over to the little ice-cream store on the corner. “I’d like
to be able to take you somewhere for the first time.”

Oliver snickered. “Well you’ll have plenty
of choices, I haven’t been anywhere.”

Damon grinned to himself. A whole world of
possibilities had just opened up. Another few weeks of therapy,
more healing, and he’d take him on vacation, and seeing as how
Damon hadn’t been anywhere since college that could be remotely
considered a vacation, this would be good for both of them.

Damon gazed at the board outside the store.
“What flavors do you like?” He caught Oliver’s eyes rounding in
amazement at all the choices. “In fact, let me.”

Oliver nodded, and two minutes later they
were sitting on the benches lined up by the railings on the
boardwalk. Damon had bought two triple cones. Vanilla, chocolate,
and cookie-dough. He’d resisted dumping fudge sauce all over them
as with Oliver’s poor grasp it could get messy.

“
They’re huge,” Oliver
protested, laughing.

Damon grinned. “But the bases are wide,
easier to hold.” He helped Oliver with his cone while trying to
catch the ice-cream that seemed to be determined to escape from his
own.

Oliver hummed as he licked the strawberry.
“My favorite flavor,” he said shyly. Oliver giggled as he saw it
running down Damon’s hand. “You’re making a bigger mess than
me.”

Damon huffed, and tossed his cone into the
trash, wiping his hand on a napkin. He raised heated eyes to
Oliver. “I think it makes much more sense to share.” He closed his
own hand over Oliver’s and drew it to his mouth. “Let me have a
taste, beautiful boy.”

****

Oliver held his breath. Heat flushed through
his entire body as Damon never took his focus off him, the man’s
big, pink tongue lapping all the way from Oliver’s wrist to the top
of the cone.

“
Mmm…strawberry. Taste it.”
Oliver froze as Damon leaned forward. As he breathlessly licked the
ice-cream from the corner of Damon’s mouth, Oliver’s hands shook.
If Damon wasn’t supporting it, the cone would have fallen to the
ground.

Oliver gazed at Damon’s lips and his eyes
fluttered closed. Heat coiled and settled in his belly. Damon
plucked the cone from his fingers and Oliver heard it hit the trash
can. Damon’s hand settled over his own and drew it downwards.

Oliver made a small sound in his throat, as
he felt his fingers scrape the bulge in Damon’s pants. He…God, it
was so hot. So perfect. Damon’s other hand settled behind Oliver’s
head and he spread-eagled his fingers, entwining them in his hair,
pulling him forward so Oliver’s face was cradled against Damon’s.
His tongue—a hint of cold strawberry—swept demandingly through
Oliver’s lips, and Oliver nearly wept with the sheer perfection of
that taste. Damon eased back slightly, and Oliver moaned in
protest, chasing him with his lips.

A car door slammed, and Damon nearly
growled. He looked around him quickly, and Oliver remembered they
were seated on a park bench making-out in full view of
everyone.

Damon gazed out over the water, and heaved a
huge sigh. “Have you picked a safeword yet?”

Oliver stood up, amazed his legs were
working. Very carefully he lifted his left hand and twisted the
fingers until they curved inwards a little. Damon’s eyes widened,
then softened as he stared into Oliver’s. Slowly Oliver cupped
Damon’s chin, the palm touching his face, the fingers resting on
his cheek.

“
I was trying to think of a
safeword,” Oliver said a little breathlessly. “I didn’t realize how
hard it would be.”

Damon stood up and put his arm around him.
Oliver loved the possessive feel of Damon’s arm. “It has to be
something you wouldn’t normally say. Do you have a middle
name?”

Oliver shook his head. “And I can’t think of
anyone whose names that I know I’d want to be associated with
safety. Except…” Oliver blushed crimson.

Damon chuckled. “First names are usually a
mistake anyway.”

“
Damon?”

Damon smiled. “I would always want you to
associate that with safety, but it would get too confusing. Pet
name?”

Oliver shook his head, glancing nervously at
Damon as he steered him through the entrance to the apartment
block. Did he dare ask? “Do-do you have a middle name?”

Damon pressed the button for the elevator,
then shook his head.

“
I’m sorry.” Oliver hung
his head. He had no right.

“
Hey.” Damon’s hand cupped
his face and tilted it. He dropped a kiss on Oliver’s upturned
lips. “You still taste of strawberry.”

They both paused and looked at each other at
the same time, lips tilting, eyes laughing. Damon bent his head for
another kiss, and that was when Oliver knew.