Submitting in Jamaica (A Submit Extra)

Updates… when it updates :-D. UNEDITED DRAFT. Content notes apply only to this part.

The taxi takes us to my mother’s bright yellow house. It’s so different from the mansion at home, colorful and full of personality in a way the American mansion will never manage to achieve. It’s nowhere near as large, but my mother insisted she didn’t want anything big. Just enough for her to host me when I came to visit.

I get out of the cab and pay the driver. As I go to the trunk to get my luggage, I realize Kyran is still sitting inside the cab.

“Kyran? What are you doing?” I ask. “Come help me with our suitcases.”

“I’m coming,” Kyran says in a mumble so low I can only just barely hear him. He lets out a sigh and gets out of the cab, coming around the car to grab one of the heavier suitcases from me. “This is a bad idea.”

It’s about the fiftieth time he’s insisted as much, but I know this has more to do with his own troubles with his family than my mother. 

“It’s not a bad idea. I only have good ideas,” I inform him. I extend the handle of my suitcase and roll it toward the door. “Tell me a single time you’ve regretted one of my ideas.”

“I can tell you plenty,” Kyran says with a grunt as he hefts another bag. “They’re just not appropriate in front of your mom’s house. Christ, is she standing by the window waiting for us? People do that?” 

“I think she’s excited.” I smile at him. “And my mother is probably just as nervous as you are. I’m nervous, Kyran. I haven’t been out for that long, either.”

“At least she accepts you,” he says sourly. He catches himself and sighs, raking a hand through his dark hair. “Sorry. It’s just… Sierra wants me to call home for Christmas, but I don’t think Ma is ready to listen yet. It’s got me shaken up, you know?” 

I know I lucked out. Even my father… Sometimes I wonder if I could have talked to him. But I also know, if my father had been alive, there is no way I could have been with Kyran.

What kind of a son am I, to sacrifice my father just for the sake of my lover?

We’re two of a kind, Kyran and I.

I shake the thought away. “We’ll figure it out.” I walk up to the front door—it’s bright red—and ring the doorbell.

Before I’ve even removed my finger from the buzzer, the door opens to reveal my mother.

It’s strange, how different she looks. She’d gotten a haircut since she moved to Jamaica, and she has clothes much more reminiscent of the local fashions. She’d always been one to do elaborate things with makeup, and she went all out for us today, too, with colorful eyeshadow.

Her blue eyes crinkle into a smile. “Silvano!” 

I let go of my suitcase so I can hug her. She presses a kiss to my cheek. “Hi, Mom. It’s nice to see you.”

“Oh, I’m so happy you came to visit.” She squeezes me tighter, as if we hadn’t seen each other in years, not just months.

When she pulls away, she rubs at the corner of her eyes. “Where are my manners?” She turns to Kyran and lets out a nervous laugh. “Kyran, right? I’m Monica. It’s really nice to meet you.”

I half expect Kyran to mutter something rude under his breath, but he smiles — and if it’s a bit forced, my mother doesn’t know him well enough to catch that. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you too. Silvano talks about you a lot.” 

My mother gestures for us to enter the house, and Kyran and I follow her inside. Just like on the outside, it’s colorful and comfortable-looking.

“You must be tired from the flight. I prepared some tea and snacks, but I’m sure you want to shower and get changed and…” My mother is actually babbling, which is amusing to see.

“Mom, relax. Yes, Kyran and I could probably do with a shower, but the flight wasn’t that long. Just show us to our room.”

I pause, suddenly worried that she’d prepared two separate rooms for us, or expects Kyran to sleep on the couch. 

My mother nods. “Of course. Here, follow me.” She leads us up the stairs to a room that has a double bed in it. “It might be a tight squeeze for you two. I’m sorry about that. Houses just aren’t as big here as back home.”

“I can get you a bigger house,” I point out. “Something closer to the beach, even.”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t want a bigger house, Silvano. I told you that! Anyway, this door in the hall is the bathroom. There are towels in the top drawer, and feel free to use any of the soap and shampoo.” She hovers by the door for a second. “I’ll leave you two to it. I’ll be downstairs with the cake whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” I say, pressing another kiss to her cheek.

She laughs nervously and goes back downstairs.

Kyran and I wheel our suitcases inside and close the door. There’s barely enough space for us to walk around the bed, but we manage to get both suitcases on one side of the bed. I take my shoes off and place them by the dresser, then collapse onto the bed.

Even the bed is small. I’m not sure how Kyran and I are both going to comfortably fit on here—it’s only a double—but this is still preferable to being made to sleep in separate spaces.

He eyes it dubiously. “I can sleep on the floor,” he says, even though there isn’t much space on the side of the bed for him to sleep there, either. I’m always aware of just how much larger he is than I am, but seeing him in this small room drives it home. 

“You are not sleeping on the floor,” I inform him. “Do you want to shower first? Take a nap? Choke on my cock so you stop thinking about running back to New Bristol?”

“You’re such a romantic,” Kyran says dryly, but he comes to sit next to me on the bed. “I think we could both use a shower. I feel grimy from the plane. Then a nap would be nice, but I think your mom will explode from anticipation if we take too long to go downstairs. She’ll probably be holding the cake plate and everything.”

I wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him closer to me. “While I would love to share a shower to save time, I am also pretty certain that there is no way the shower is large enough for both of us.” I give him a quick peck on the lips. “Go shower. I’ll go chat with my mom while you do, and you can come down when you’re done.” I almost couch it as a request, but I change my mind. “Can you follow those orders, Kyran?”

He eyes me, but I can see the relief that comes with being given a simple set or orders that he can follow instead of obsessing over what he needs to do. “Yeah,” he says, kissing me again before heading to our luggage. While he rummages through our bags for shower supplies and a change of clothes, I head back down to find my mother. 

She’s waiting in the living room, the cake already on a tray on the table and pre-sliced. There’s a teapot and three teacups out, too. I don’t recognize the tea set, so she must have bought it here.

“Hi, Mom. Kyran’s going to shower first. I think he wanted to give us some time to catch up on our own,” I say. 

My mother smiles nervously. “Really? He didn’t need to. The two of us talk all the time! I hope he doesn’t feel like he has to be careful around me.”

“No, not at all.” I sit down on the couch and get a slice of cake for myself while my mother pours the tea. “Kyran’s simply very aware that family can be complicated.”

My mother is quiet for a moment as she sets the tea in front of me. “Yes, it  can be.” She sighs and picks up her own already-filled teacup. “I just don’t want him to dislike me, that’s all. He has every reason to hate our family, given…”

Given that my father was the reason Kyran’s brother, sister-in-law, and niece were killed.

I nod solemnly. “Yeah. But Kyran understands that it was Dad’s decision. He blamed me for a while, but never you. Even if you’d known, you couldn’t have stopped anything Dad did.”

It’s strange how I sometimes miss him, even though he was a piece of shit. Homophobic, constantly belittling me—but I know he didn’t hate me. He never cheated on my mother, he tried to make sure we were a family. Fuck, Cristiano would point out how good he was to anybody who was loyal to him.

I can’t even lie to myself and pretend I had nothing to do with his murder, that it was out of my hands. Peter Boyce had been so fucking gleeful about his plans that one small push would have had him spilling everything.

“I’m glad things worked out for you,” my mother says. “It’s a strange thing, isn’t it? That you two could find love in between all that hatred flying between our families.”

I laugh. “In my defense, I met him before things got too bad.” I don’t know that I want to tell her exactly how Kyran and I met, though. “Tell me more about Jamaica, though. Have you found a dance partner?”

My mother goes along with the change of subject, and we chit-chat a bit until the sound of the running water goes silent. It takes maybe a little longer than it should for Kyran to come join us downstairs, but he does come.

For all that he’s quiet for someone of his size, he’s not stealthy, and no matter how hard he’s obviously trying to be unobtrusive, that’s downright impossible. Maybe in my own home, he can blend in with the surroundings, but not here. 

I smile at him and pat the spot next to me on the couch. He hesitates, his eyes flicking over my mother, the tiny tea cups, and the cake, then comes to sit next to me without reaching for any of it. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Kyran says politely, as though he wasn’t just following my orders. 

I laugh and ruffle his hair, which probably looks ridiculous to my mother, and Kyran scowls at me. “There’s no need to be so formal. And have some of the rum cake, it’s delicious.”

“Thanks,” he says, carefully serving himself a slice of the cake. He ignores the tea, though. 

“Do you have any recommendations for our visit, Mom?” I ask. I give Kyran’s neck a quick squeeze before letting go. “The beach, of course, but any restaurants you think we should try, or areas that would be interesting to see?”

“We need to go to the Grand Market!” my mother says with excitement. “Everybody’s been telling me about it. It’s a market held on Christmas Eve. The people at my dance class said it’s a great place to get gifts for relatives overseas.” After a pause, she adds, “Although I already got presents for both of you, of course.”

I smile back. “My suitcase is half filled with presents for you, too.”

“Silvano!” My mother sighs loudly. “I don’t need anything! I told you that!”

“Well, I don’t need anything either, so I suppose we’re even.” 

It’s nice to be able to joke with her like this. I glance over at Kyran, who is sitting completely stiff. 

“Kyran, do you still want to do the boat tour?” I ask. “We can probably book one tomorrow.”

Now Kyran narrows his eyes at me. “How do you know I wanted to—”

Because he’d been looking it up on his phone, and he’s very bad at picking passwords I can’t figure out. I don’t plan on telling him that, of course. “Because I know you, Kyran.”

He glares daggers at me, and I can tell I’ll be subjected to another ‘stop looking through my phone, Silvano’ lecture later on. “You cheat,” he mutters. 

“If you want boat tours, I know somebody who runs them.” My mother looks between us. “If you don’t mind me coming along, I’d love to join you. I think it’s supposed to be dolphin and whale season now.”

“Yeah, of course you can come,” Kyran says hurriedly, though the glance he gives me shows me just how panicked that thought makes him.

My mother doesn’t seem to notice, thankfully, instead smiling at him. “Great! I’ll give him a call and book something.”

There’s a small lull in the conversation then. Kyran looks like he’s desperate to be anywhere else, and I know my mother is afraid of stepping on any toes, so I decide to take pity on them.

“I think I need a shower too, and maybe we do need a nap. Do you mind if we rest for a bit, Mom?” I ask.

“Of course! Please, take your time.” My mother laughs. “Don’t mind me. I’m just excited to have my son and his partner here. When you’re ready, we can order food, or go out, whatever you prefer.”

“Going out sounds like a good idea,” I tell her as I get up. I use Kyran for leverage, and I squeeze his shoulder. “I don’t think we’ll take too long.”

He gets up after me, setting his untouched plate of cake back down on the table. “I’ll eat this later,” he promises her. “I’m just a little nervous.”

The touch of vulnerability makes her soften even more towards him. 

When we return to the far-too-small room, I turn to give Kyran a look. “I know you’re nervous, but my mother doesn’t bite.”

“I know,” Kyran says, closing the door behind us. “But I’ve never done the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing before, especially as someone’s partner.” He eyes me. “Does that word bother you? Is that the word we’re using? I’m used to just being your consigliere, but I don’t think we should introduce me to her that way.” 

I laugh and reach up to pat his head. “Kyran, that’s what I told her you were. I’m not going to call you my ‘boyfriend.’” I smirk at him. “Would you prefer it if I tell her you’re my ‘boy’?”

His cheeks flush adorably red, and he gives a quick shake of his head. “Of course not,” he huffs. “I just… She’s handling it really well. I’m glad for you, but I’m jealous, too. I can’t help it.” 

“Well, we’ve been talking about it for a few weeks now,” I say slowly. I move my hand to his neck and squeeze lightly. “She said she suspected since I was a teenager. But she also didn’t want to cause trouble for me with my father.”

“Yeah,” Kyran says, leaning into my touch for a moment before he pulls me into his arms. “My family was in denial. Except Neil and Sierra.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “Sierra’s been really absent lately, and Neil… Well.” His smile turns brittle as he looks at me again. “You know.” 

I don’t bother telling him I’m sorry for Neil’s death. He knows, and my platitudes won’t change anything. I’m not sorry that I prevented Kyran from being there and getting caught in the crossfire.

I kiss his jaw before I pull away. “I’m going to shower. When I get back, I want you on your knees. Got it?”

He lets out a slow breath, staring at me for a moment with the distant look he sometimes gets when he’s thinking about his family. He shakes it off, though, nodding. He sits on the edge of the bed, but I know he’ll be on his knees before I get back. 

I shower quickly, just enough to get the airplane grime off me. I don’t bother getting dressed again, simply wrapping a towel around my waist, and return to the room.

Kyran is kneeling, his head bowed and his hands on his thighs. His head snaps up to me when I enter the room. 

I close and lock the door behind me, keeping my gaze on him the entire time.

It still amazes me that a man with his physique is willing to bend for me. I’m always aware of how much stronger than me he is. That’s probably why I get the thrill I do, having somebody like him at my every beck and call.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and tap Kyran with my toes. “Kiss my foot.”

It’s not the first time I’ve told him to do it, and it won’t be the last. 

He smirks up at me, though. “No fine Italian leather to kiss? Just your foot?” 

I raise my brows at him. “Kyran, I am not going to put on a pair of shoes fresh out of the shower. But I am perfectly happy to put a buttplug inside of you and let you suffer all evening, if that’s what you prefer.”

“Not in front of your mother!” Kyran says, the smugness instantly vanishing from his expression. We both know he’d do it if I told him to, and it would be amusing to see him try to maintain his cool. It’s almost enough to make me want to do it anyway, but he leans down and kisses the top of my foot, letting his tongue flick out to taste the skin. 

“Better,” I say. After a few seconds, I pat my thigh. “Put your head here, boy. We’re going to have a nice, boring, safe for work chat.”

“I don’t like those chats,” he grumbles, his expression serious. He rests his head against my thigh, closing his eyes. His hair is still damp from his own shower, and he smells like our soap. 

I gently stroke his scalp. “What are you afraid of, Kyran? My mother isn’t a homophobe, she isn’t out to kill us.”

“I know that,” he says, taking a slow, deep breath before slowly continuing, “But it’s so fucking hard, Silvano. You know how close I was to my family. And now it’s just a reminder of everything I lost.” He looks up to meet my eyes. “Everything I gave up. I made those decisions. We both did.” 

“I know it’s hard,” I murmur, continuing to pet him. “None of this has been easy for me, either. But my mother wants you to be part of her family. She wants you to feel welcomed.”

It’s more than I had ever hoped. She hadn’t even balked when I told her exactly who Kyran was. My mother was never completely unaware of my father’s mafia dealings, but I know she also didn’t actively concern herself with them.

That was probably easier for her.

“My mother will never do that with you,” Kyran says with complete certainty. “She’ll never accept you. She accepts your help — reluctantly — but she won’t accept you. She’ll never accept that we’re together.” 

“Kyran,” I say carefully, “Have you actually talked to her?” 

Kyran grimaces. “No, but—”

“Then you don’t know for sure.” I grip his hair tighter. “But whether she accepts me or not, that doesn’t mean you should be projecting your feelings about her onto my mother.”

He lets out a low growl. “You say that like it’s simple, Silvano.” 

“It’s not simple,” I counter. “It’s hard, and it’s painful, but I know you can handle it, Kyran. You’ve handled a lot worse.” I twist his hair to make my point. “We’re going to have a nice vacation here. Understood?”

Grunting, Kyran hesitates for a moment before dipping his head in a slight nod. “Yes. Yes, I get it. Starting with the boat thing, which you should not have known about.” 

“You’re going to have to learn that you have absolutely no secrets from me,” I answer. I push his head towards my cock, still covered by my towel. “Since I’m so nice and understanding, I’m going to allow you to hold me in your mouth for a bit.”

“Allow me, huh?” he asks, and there’s a slight twitch of his lips into a smile that turns into something far more intense as he slowly pushes the towel away. “I guess I can be convinced.” 

With that, he takes my cock slowly into his mouth with a sigh. He closes his eyes, finding the peace my domination always seems to give him. 

“Good boy,” I whisper, my own nerves settling, too.

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