Chapter 10
Owen
Denny’s wouldn’t have been my first choice, but I wasn’t going to say no to a meal somewhere other than the house. Adrian and I had been managing pretty well on our — very — limited budget, but it didn’t leave much room for variation. We’d gotten creative a few times, for better or worse, but we’d both just grimaced and eaten what we’d ended up with anyway.
The idea of letting someone else cook and clean as well as having something different from our usual fare was more than a little appealing. As long as I didn’t have to go back to “would you like to make that a large for a dollar more?” for the evening, I was pretty much set.
It was odd, though. The restaurant was half-empty, and there was a sense of quiet that I wasn’t used to. People murmured to each other, but the seating was haphazardly spread across the place — to give everyone a bit of privacy, I supposed, since they had so much space.
So many empty seats didn’t bode well, to be honest, but food was food.
I picked up a menu, trying to pretend I didn’t notice the spot of syrup exactly where I’d put my fingers, and started to flip through it. I’d forgotten what it was like to go somewhere with options, and the sheer amount of choices was a little overwhelming at first.
“What are you gonna get?” I asked Adrian, my nose still in my own menu.
“Well, I ended up getting a little bit of a bonus from putting in some extra hours at work.” Adrian gave a half-hearted shrug. “If you can call getting handed a prepaid Visa that looks like it was left over from Christmas a bonus. I wasn’t going to complain, though. Fifty bucks isn’t bad.”
“Not at all,” I agreed. “Appreciate you taking me out to eat on it.” That… sounded wrong, like I was thanking him for treating me to a date.
Well, if I tried to fix it now, it would draw more attention to it. I kept my mouth shut.
Adrian started looking through the back of the menu. “I know it’s not like fine dining, but I was going to get a roast or some meatloaf. We should probably buy groceries with it or something more practical, but I thought this would be fun?” The sentence came out more like a question and he looked at me like he wasn’t sure what I would think.
“Doesn’t have to be fine dining to be fun,” I told him with a shrug. “I’m just glad I don’t have to eat my own cooking.” Sure, it would’ve been nice to go somewhere a little classier, but like he’d said, the cost of a dinner out could buy a lot of food if we were careful. We had to live sometime, though, and I think both of us needed to take a breath and do something normal.
Families went out to eat all the time, so this was a nice glimpse of what normal looked like.
Breakfast was pretty much out. Eggs and pancakes were cheap enough to cook that I’d had breakfast for dinner more times than I could count now. I flipped over to the dinner section, wanting something substantial but not even knowing where to start.
Adrian seemed to be having the same problem. His eyes were going over the menu again and again, but he kept going back to the section with the meatloaf. Finally, he looked up at me. “Is it stupid that I can’t decide?”
“Seeing as how I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes trying to choose? Nope,” I replied, flashing him a grin. I picked up the insert with their specials, arching a brow as I read out, “Smoky gouda prime rib and broccoli skillet. Since when does Denny’s do fancy?”
Adrian grinned. “Since when is anything in a skillet fancy?”
“There’s prime rib, duh,” I retorted, but I found myself smiling back at him. “Screw you,” I said lightly. “I’m trying it.”
Adrian’s smile widened. “I’m getting the steak.” The smile faltered, and he started looking a little less sure of himself. “Um, do you want to split it? Like you get half of mine, and I’ll get half of yours? So just in case yours sucks you’re not out dinner?”
I doubted a Denny’s steak was going to be anything more than meat-flavored rubber, but I didn’t point that out. “Yeah, sure,” I said. “As long as you’re not going to order your steak well done.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, just waiting for him to tell me he liked it the consistency of shoe leather.
Adrian just shook his head. “Medium? So it’s not too tough? I don’t think I’ve eaten a steak well done in years.”
It had been years since I’d gone out to eat with my brother, too, and it shouldn’t have surprised me that so many things had changed. I didn’t know Adrian, not really, and he wasn’t the easiest person to get to know. He was so serious, so earnest, but at the same time…
He was vulnerable, unable to hide his emotions worth a damn.
I couldn’t help but wonder if I was unreadable to him, if everything was as new as it was to me or if I was more predictable.
“Medium’s good,” I agreed. “That’s a pretty drastic change,” I said, smirking. “Next you’ll be telling me you like boys.”
And if he does?
That would make everything even more convoluted and complicated than it already was. I took a sip of my water, trying not to squirm.
Adrian just blinked at me, and I could see a thousand thoughts flash across his face. I’d pictured him laughing or even making some kind of a sarcastic comment like I would have, but his response was nothing like I’d expected.
“I don’t think I’ve changed, but I think that would mean that I knew what I liked to begin with.” The sentence was slightly convoluted but if I followed it right…
No. I didn’t want to try to guess what he meant. It would only confuse everything even more.
Before I could figure out a way to break the awkward silence, the waitress paused by the table. “You boys decide what you want?” she asked. It was probably the third time she’d come by, but she was still as casual and friendly as she’d been the first two times.
“Oh. Um, yeah,” I said, fumbling as I tried to remember how to use my words. “I’m gonna have the prime rib gouda skillet thing. He’ll have the steak, cooked medium.”
“Sure thing,” she said, dipping her head in a nod.
It wasn’t until she was walking off that I realized I’d just ordered for my older brother.
“Um. Sorry?” I ventured.
Adrian lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “I don’t mind when you take charge of me.”
He honestly didn’t seem to realize how it came out. When I started coughing, he looked at me like he was starting to worry about my health — or maybe just my mental health, which seemed to be hanging by a thread lately.
“Are you okay?” His confused expression turned concerned when it took me a minute to catch my breath.
It took me a few more seconds to gather myself, but I nodded quickly. “Oh, yeah, completely fine,” I lied. “Just a little cough.” As though to prove my point, I picked up my glass of water and took a sip. “Fine now. How’s the project going?” I asked, and again, I realized too late that I was turning the conversation into zones with “danger” and “do not enter” — for fuck’s sake, Owen, stop that line of thought right the fuck now — signs all over the place.
His brows came together, and he looked down at the table. His shoulders hunched down, and his concern faded into something that looked like shame. “Um, some of it’s going fine. I talked to… I interviewed someone about the lifestyle so that will be good for the paper, but the actual practical part isn’t going as well.”
He’d actually talked to someone? I gaped at him for a moment, surprised.
“How’d that go?” I finally managed to get out. “Actually talking to someone in the know? I mean, maybe they could help you with the practical part…” I trailed off, surprised by the fierce stab of jealousy the idea evoked.
No, it wasn’t jealousy. I was just feeling protective of my big brother.
His head popped up, and his frown deepened. “No, just on the outskirts. It was interesting. Um, did you want… I mean, did you want me to find someone else to help me? I guess I know how to find more people in the lifestyle now, but you said…” His voice trailed off. He blushed before looking back down at the table, suddenly fascinated by the way his silverware was wrapped.
“No!” I said, a little too hastily. “No,” I repeated, taking my time in repeating the word. “It’s okay. If you still want my help, I’ll help.” I’d enjoy the fuck out of helping, too, just like last time — with that perfect peace descending over us, and feeling closer to my brother than I had in far too long. The rest… The rest, I could deal with later.
Much later.
Like never.
“What… part are you struggling with?” I asked.
His body sagged into the seat, relief clear on his face when I told him I wasn’t trying to get out of helping. But evidently asking for help was easier than admitting what he needed me to actually do because he turned the color of an overripe tomato and his mouth clamped shut again.
Not sure how to respond, I just looked at him. I wasn’t going to start listing shit off to try to guess. That would get weird quick — if we weren’t there already. Finally, Adrian looked down at the table and started picking at his napkin.
“I…” He took a deep breath and started again. “I haven't managed to do anything else on my own.”
Another deep breath had my stomach turning in knots. What was he going to say?
“I want to try— I mean, I need to see how it all feels.” He was quiet for another moment then peeked up at me before his eyes went back to his napkin, which was lying on the table shredded to pieces. “I’ve never had anything… and I don’t know how to…”
Adrian was clearly floundering, but I just sat there, stunned.
Finally, something stupid just popped out. “You mean the tail?”
I shouldn’t have asked, because the thought of him naked in front of me with the tail plugging his ass — of seeing it wag when I called him a good boy — had me shifting uncomfortably in my seat.
I didn’t know why it was so appealing. This was my fucking brother. But I suddenly, desperately, hoped that was what he meant.
Adrian started pushing around the little pieces of trash scattering the table. He was quiet for so long I started to think that he wasn’t planning to answer at all. Right as I started to open my mouth, he glanced up at me again and nodded.
He looked vulnerable and scared, like he was so afraid of what I’d say that he could hardly think.
“Okay,” I said, like it was the most normal thing in the world for my brother to be asking me to help him act like a pup… and playing his master, to boot. “You wanna, when we get home?”
Waitresses always had a perfect sense of timing, and ours popped back up then with our plates in hand before he could reply. From the look on Adrian’s face, I wasn’t sure if he was relieved or afraid that the longer this went on, the weirder it would get.
“Careful. Plates are hot,” she said, as though she hadn’t just interrupted a tension-laden moment.
I should’ve been relieved at the reprieve, but I was annoyed. It gave Adrian a chance to rethink it, to back out, and I didn’t want that to happen.
“Thanks,” I said, offering her a smile.
“Sure thing,” she replied. “Need anything else?”
“Not me.” I glanced at Adrian, quirking a brow. “You?”
“I, um, need another napkin.” Adrian pointed to the mess, slightly embarrassed.
“No problem, honey.” The older waitress smiled indulgently. “Here, let me help.” She gathered the little pieces efficiently and seemed to magically produce more napkins out of the apron that was wrapped around her waist. “And don’t you worry about it. I’m sure he’s just as nervous about your first date too. Why, the tension between you boys could be cut with a knife. Just relax and get to know each other.”
Adrian gave her a shy look before he shot a quick glance at me. I was waiting for him to correct her, but he just shifted in his seat and looked down at his dinner. “Thank you.”
I gaped. What was I supposed to say to that? Our first date?
Why had I left it up to Adrian to correct her? Why hadn’t I done it?
I couldn’t help but think that if we were dating, it really would’ve been our first date, but we weren’t — but then, Adrian hadn’t told her otherwise. Too embarrassing, maybe?
She was right about one thing, though. We did need to get to know each other.
“Thanks,” I echoed weakly, thrown off my game by the comment more than I wanted to admit.
I waited for her to leave then looked at Adrian, having no fucking idea what to say.
Adrian either realized I was stunned silent or had no idea what to say either because he looked at me awkwardly then gestured to the plates. “Do you want to try some of the steak?” He managed to give me a teasing grin. “I know it’s medium, even if I’m not sure of everything else.”
Not ready to admit I had no idea what to say, I nodded and started focusing on the food. My brother and I had been getting along lately, so this shouldn’t have been awkward. But there was something more, some electric tension I couldn’t shake, and I had no idea what to do about that either.
Adrian started cutting his steak in half but paused for a moment to cut a single bite. Holding the fork out hesitantly, he reached across the table and offered me the bite. “So you can see if you like it.”
I didn’t know if I was supposed to take the fork or just eat the bite off of it, but fuck, if we were going to treat this like a date…
I was the king of first dates. I couldn’t remember the last time I hadn’t managed to get in a guy’s pants on one. I sure as fuck hadn’t been nervous since junior high.
Maybe this would help him relax more about the idea of me seeing him in the nude with a tail plug in his ass.
My cock should not have pulsed at that thought.
I leaned in and took the bite straight from his fork. It wasn’t as bad as I’d expected, and I made a hum of appreciation as I drew back.
Adrian watched me, licking his lips. “How does it taste?”
“Pretty good,” I said. I prepared a bite for him from my own plate, holding it out the same way.
Adrian leaned forward, wrapping his lips around my fork and pulling it deeper into his mouth.
Fuck.
My mind oh-so-helpfully provided me with a visual of how his lips would look wrapped around other things, and I had to force myself not to moan or do something stupid. Like hell would anyone believe that the food at Denny’s was good enough to make me moan.
He slowly chewed, watching my face then nodding. “It’s good.”
I gestured with my fork between our plates, desperately trying to make my brain think of something other than his full lips. “You want to take half or just grab some off my plate?”
“I don’t mind eating off your plate.” He glanced over at the waitress, who was across the room talking to an older couple. “It’s a date, after all,” he teased.
In theory, I knew he was just trying to be funny, but my mind couldn’t seem to remember that. “Don’t taunt me,” I said, as dryly as I could. “My dates always end one way, and you’re gonna end up disappointing me here.”
What even. Why my brain kept forgetting he was my sibling, I had no idea.
It was hard to think of him as my brother when we’d been linked by blood alone for so long. We didn’t know each other well, and we were new to each other’s lives.
We were almost strangers.
Adrian should’ve laughed me off. He should’ve shot me down and called me a perv, something — anything — to tell me to back off. Instead, he just blushed again and looked back at his plate. We both sat in silence for several tension-laden seconds before he offered me another piece of steak, that fork extending across the table like it wasn't just food he was offering.
What. The. Fuck.
“Do you want more?”
Did he have no clue how that sounded? How it came across and what crazy shit he was putting in my head? Probably not, but then, could he really be that innocent? I wished I knew him well enough to be confident of the answer. Then again, if we actually knew each other, we probably wouldn’t have been sitting in Denny’s on what might be a date.
Probably.
If he hadn’t already had the bite offered out, I’d have said no, but I couldn’t resist the allure of that single piece. It shouldn’t have been as mesmerizing as it was, but then, I shouldn’t have kept imagining what it might be like to let him eat out of my hand either.
I was going to that special hell, that was for sure.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. I leaned in, and that time… All right, so that time, I might’ve made it look vaguely obscene when I took the bite from his fork — to see what he would do, of course, and not just because I wanted to.
Adrian just watched me, the fork still held out like he’d completely forgotten it, and licked his lips again. If I was going to hell, it was going to be completely his fault. How was I supposed to ignore reactions like that?
Simple: I couldn’t.
Just as simple, I had to.
I wished I knew how he really felt about this tension between us. I didn’t know if I was sweeping him up in the current or if he was swimming along beside me — which was a thought that got a certain amnesiac blue fish stuck in my mind. Well, I’d have to just keep swimming and hope I didn’t drag either of us down.
“I, um…” Nope. I had nothing.
“Can I have another bite of yours?” he asked. I’d be damned if he didn’t lean across the table, opening his mouth as he waited for me to feed him.
This had to be a dream, or a nightmare — or hell, maybe both. I wasn’t sure what it qualified as, but it definitely wasn’t anything normal.
“Yeah, of course,” I said, pretending I wasn’t trying not to stammer over the words. Offering out the mouthful of pasta, I slowly slid it into his mouth—
Special. Fucking. Hell.
“If you’re going to keep stealing my food, you should come sit by me. It’d be easier,” I found myself saying.
Adrian gave me a long look, and it felt like he was trying to see inside me. Before I could start fidgeting, he glanced at the seat on my side of the booth. “It’s not that big. It will be a tight fit. Is that okay?”
“Nah, I’m used to things being tight,” I said, remembering only after I’d spoken that I was talking to my brother. He was going to run any minute now, and I wouldn’t be able to blame him. I took a gulp of my drink, berating myself. “It’s fine, I meant. Used to not having much space.”
Adrian blinked at me. “Is it okay if I sit on the inside? I think it will be more comfortable if you’re on the outside… of the booth.” I didn’t know how he could look so fucking oblivious, all while the craziest shit was running through my head.
Was he trying to make me come undone right then and there? He looked so goddamn innocent, and… Fuck, that was the problem, wasn’t it? This was supposed to be innocent. I was the one making it dirty.
I took a deep breath then got up. “Sure,” I said as casually as I could — which meant I definitely didn’t croak or almost choke on the word. “Good sir,” I said, gesturing gallantly to the seat in what was yet another bad attempt to salvage the situation.
Universe: 393,949,304. Me: 0.
Adrian smiled, and a faint blush showed on his cheeks. “I’ve never had a date take such good care of me. Most of the time they seem to think I want to take charge. This is nice.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He slid his plate across the table, stood, and stepped closer. His body brushed against mine, and he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.
If it had been a real date, I would have thought he was checking me out, maybe even trying to see how I’d react to things getting a little more intimate.
But it wasn’t a real date.
Was it?
Scooting across the bench, he gave the seat next to him a pat. “Now it will be easier to… share.”
The little pauses had to be in my head. He wouldn’t have made that sound dirty on purpose.
I cleared my throat, my eyes flicking in the direction of the bathroom as I contemplated fleeing, but I sat down instead. I could feel the warmth of his side against my own, and it felt oddly natural despite my trepidation. I tried to tell myself that I was just cold, maybe even just lonely, but it was more than that.
There were cheesy pop songs just waiting to be written about that moment.
“Yeah, um,” I said, gesturing to my plate. “Have as much as you want.” I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from offering to feed him. I was already pushing the envelope enough.
Adrian leaned closer, which I wouldn’t have even thought was possible. “How much will you give me? I don’t want to ask for too much.”
“I don’t think you could ask for too much,” I said, and my voice was hoarse. I tilted my head, searching his expression and trying to figure out just how much of this I was imagining.
“You’ll tell me if I go too far, though, right?” He looked down at the food then back up at me, at my mouth.
Jesus Fucking Christ.
“I’m not comfortable taking charge.”
I wet my lips with my tongue, spellbound. “Yeah,” I managed, if only barely. “Gonna have to do a lot more than this to scare me off, though.” I meant it to be a joke or something, but it ended up being more of an uncertain question instead.
“I’m counting on it. You’re going to help me with very… personal things. I don’t want to scare you off or push you away.” He gave me another of those innocent looks. “I like being with you like this.”
Like friends. That’s what he had to mean, having dinner and talking — not the other things that were running through my head.
“Yeah. Me too,” I echoed. He had to be completely unaware of the effect he was having on me. Goddamn it, I needed to get laid, pronto. I should’ve taken more of my own food, but I leaned in, pressing against him as I stole another piece of his value menu steak.
He watched my mouth as I chewed, and it felt a little like I was under a microscope. “You don’t mind that you’re going to have to see me naked?” There was another one of those damn pauses. “To help me with the tail?”
Mind? I couldn’t stop thinking about it, but that didn’t seem like the right thing to say. I still squirmed, taking my time before finally swallowing. “Um. No. No, I don’t mind. Are you going to um… How much help…”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. When had I turned into a stammering idiot?
Adrian shrugged and started poking around his plate as though trying to decide what to eat. He finally speared a piece of steak then glanced at me. “Lots. I haven’t been able to put it in. It seems like it would hurt, and no one’s ever… penetrated me like that. Do you know how to make it feel good?”
Then he ate the fucking bite like nothing he’d said was out of the ordinary.
I wasn’t going to make it through the evening without embarrassing the fuck out of myself. “I…” Goddamn it. I was not twelve! “Um. Yeah. Lube, prep, that sort of thing. You got a small one, right?” I asked, as casually as possible. I hadn’t looked that closely at the size of the plug. I’d been too busy looking at… other things.
“The plug and the tail?” The question came out like it was a typical, everyday kind of conversation. When I nodded, my mouth going dry, he continued, “It said it was a small, for beginners. I didn’t think anything too big would fit, but the website said this one would. The pup in the video I watched liked having his put in. He laid across his master’s lap.”
I cleared my throat, interest in food all but forgotten. “Would it be… easier if we were both, you know, already relaxed?” I asked slowly. “We could just play a little first, then you can let me know when you’re ready? You can… lay across my lap, if you want… If you don’t think that’s too weird,” I said hastily, like it wasn’t already fucking weird that I was talking about sticking a butt plug attached to a tail into my brother’s ass while he played pup and I played Master.
“I should probably be naked first when we play then, so I don’t have to stop and take off my clothes. That sounds right, doesn’t it?” Then he leaned close again and looked at my plate. “Can I have another bite? Yours is really good.”
I was stuck on him starting out naked, and it took me a minute to clue into what he was asking. “Yeah, sure,” I said, still trying to figure out what the hell had just come before that. “As long as you’re comfortable.”
Grabbing my fork, I started getting him more of the pasta. As I started bringing it up to his lips, he gave me a long look.
“I never thought I’d see you like this, but I’m getting more comfortable with you every time we talk and play. Thank you for helping me be a pup.”
What was I supposed to say to that? The only thing that came to mind…
“Thanks for trusting me.”