Marcus
To cut the steak or to not cut the steak should not have been that hard of a decision. I finally decided to go with my gut and see what happened. Everything about our date would have been so much easier if I knew what Eric was comfortable with—or if I could at least address the elephant in the room.
Without being able to mention the fact that Eric was interested in age play, there was no good way to ask his preferences on the everyday little things that would come up—like cutting the food.
Or the type of plates…
Or the seating arrangement…
There were a thousand small topics I wanted to be able to question him on, but they were going to have to wait. At least until he’d seen the nursery. I had a feeling that was going to be the tipping point for our discussion. There was only so long Eric could put off our discussion when he was standing in a room designed for age play.
Dishing up the pasta and salad, I set my steak on my plate and left it whole. But when I put Eric’s on his, I started cutting it into smaller pieces. He’d been sitting quietly at the table, relaxed and looking around the kitchen, but when I started in on his steak, he froze.
His easy posture stiffened and the only movement seemed to be where he gnawed on his lower lip. Was I pushing his comfort zone or was he upset at my decision? I was leaning toward comfort zone because Eric didn’t strike me as the type to sit in silence while he was mad. He’d stood his ground with Samuel, so I had no reason to believe he wouldn’t do the same with me.
His gaze never wavered while I finished cutting the meat, and by the time I brought it over to the table, I was starting to get concerned. There was so much I still didn’t know about Eric. When I finally set it down in front of him, he blinked and seemed to come back to himself.
“Your water still okay or do you want something else?” I was picturing juice or milk, but I knew he’d probably want tea or a soda. I had to repeat the question twice before he could follow the sentence.
“Um, no, I’m good. Thanks.” His voice was foggy like I’d just woken him up from a nap…and didn’t that paint a sexy picture.
“Let me know if you change your mind.” Trying to keep a neutral expression, I set my plate down and joined him at the table.
“It looks good. Thank you for cooking.” His brain was starting to function again, but his stress level was still higher than I liked and I wasn’t sure there was anything I could do about it.
I had a feeling he was going to be anxious until we finally got everything out in the open.
The way he was watching his food made me want to ask if there was something wrong with it, but I knew that would be the wrong way to approach it. Deciding to ignore it, I picked up my fork and dug in. It took him another minute or two before he moved past the shock, but eventually, he picked up his fork and began to eat.
The amount of pride I felt in that one action was probably ridiculous.
****
Dinner went more smoothly once Eric started eating. Conversation gradually picked up, and he shared funny stories from work. By the time we finished, he was smiling and had both of us in stitches. Unfortunately, his stress level started to rise again as we cleaned up the kitchen.
“No, he was honestly so drunk he thought he was ordering pay-per-view porn. It was weird, and the rep he got was so new and just so innocent she didn’t know what to do. We were dying as she tried to explain to him that he hadn’t called the cable company.” Buzzing around the kitchen gathering plates, he grinned and shook his head at the memory. “And that’s not even the craziest thing.”
Eric had insisted on helping, loading the dishwasher as I put the leftovers away. I could see his brain start to go into overdrive as he got closer to finishing because loading the last few pieces took an incredibly long time and he seemed to have run out of stories.
When he couldn’t put it off any longer, he took a deep breath and looked over at me. “Ready to show me the rest of the house?”
So fucking proud of him.
“Of course.” I’d been waiting for this moment for days.
Resting my hand on his shoulder again, I gave him a squeeze as we walked out of the kitchen. The house was a split-floor plan with two rooms to the left of the living room and the master suite that branched off from the right. I gestured toward the spare rooms. “There’s a guest room and another room that’s half office and half home gym.”
“Lots of space, that’s nice.” His voice was even and he was attempting to pay attention, but his gaze was drawn to the other hall that led to my bedroom.
“It’s worked out pretty well. And I like the way the master is private from the other bedrooms. Makes it easier when someone stays over.” I pointed down the hall. “Want to check it out?”
What I really was trying to ask was if he was ready to see the nursery, and he understood that right away. He reached up and grabbed the hand that was resting on his shoulder. Moving it down to his side, he held on tight and took another steadying breath. “Yes.”
With a grip that would have done a bodybuilder proud, he followed me down the hall. He was quiet, but his hand was steady and he’d stopped chewing on his lip. Had he found his confidence? Or maybe the shock was just setting in.
With Eric, it was hard to tell.
I’d hoped that some of his nervousness would fade when he saw that the bedroom was fairly normal, but that didn’t seem to help. It might have made it worse. It was a large room dominated by a king-size bed with a sturdy frame. The gentleman who’d made the bed thought I was a little odd for how well-made I’d wanted it.
It was strong enough that when you tied someone to it, you didn’t have to worry about anything breaking. I might have been a Daddy Dom, but I wanted to be prepared for anything my boy might need or want. Including being tied down to the bed and spanked…or taken…or teased…
Picturing Eric spread naked on the bed wasn’t helping.
We stood there for a moment by the door. I wasn’t sure what was going through Eric’s mind, but I wasn’t going to rush him. Finally, he let go of my hand and looked up at me questioningly. I thought I knew what he was asking. “Go look around. It’s alright.”
He gave me a tentative smile and scanned the room. When he saw the arched doorway, he went in the opposite direction. I had to push back the urge to smile. Walking around the room, he peeked in the bathroom and I saw his eyes widen. The jet tub was another bonus for this house.
It was the slowest home tour in history—and he was only looking at one room.
I’d knocked entire houses off the list in less time than it took him to make it from the doorway around to the other side of the room. Eventually, though, he made it to the nursery door. Not wanting to let him face his fears, whatever they involved, by himself, I walked over and took his hand again.
When it looked like he wasn’t going to be able to open the door on his own, I reached out for the handle. Eric’s grip tightened, and I watched as he tried to stand straighter. All I wanted to do was hug him, but I had a feeling he needed to take this step without me coddling him. There would be plenty of time for that later, once he’d faced his demons.
I waited until he gave me a nod before I turned the handle. I’d taken to keeping it locked lately since it was almost complete, but I’d opened it earlier before he’d arrived. As I pushed the door open, we walked inside and I couldn’t help but watch as he saw the room for the first time.
His eyes grew round and he was back to biting his lip, but he didn’t seem as nervous. His shoulders weren’t up by his ears anymore and I was starting to get the feeling back in my fingers.
“I like the animals.” His voice was low and forced, but any words were better than standing in shocked silence.
“I’m glad.” I wanted to ask if he’d like to look around, but I thought that might be too much for him at that moment. “Do you want to sit down with me for a minute? Give yourself time to catch your breath?”
He glanced at the oversized lounge chair and then back at me. “Together…like…” His voice trailed off hesitantly.
“On my lap, yes.” I tried to sound as soothing and confident as I could. “It’s up to you.”
“Yes. That’s…I like…yes.” Clamping his lips shut, he looked down at the floor.
Leading him over to the chair, I sat down and settled him sideways on my thighs. Lifting his chin, I made him look me in the eyes. “It’s okay to be nervous. Don’t feel bad about any emotions or reactions you have in here. This is a safe space. There’s no right or wrong, and nothing to be embarrassed about.”
His eyes watered and his breath hitched, but he nodded. “Alright.”
Pulling him close to me, I wanted to sigh when he laid his head on my shoulder and curled his body into my chest. Pushing back against the floor, I started the gliding motion of the chair and let it rock him back and forth. As time passed, he relaxed into my arms and I could feel the tension leaving his body. After a few minutes, he was so relaxed I thought he’d fallen asleep, so when he spoke, I almost jumped.
“I told somebody before.”
His voice came out low and tentative, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk, but the words were coming out anyway. Not wanting to interrupt whatever he was going to say, I stayed quiet and rocked us back and forth.
“It was in high school.”
I couldn’t imagine. Maybe it was the age gap and different generations, but I’d been trying to figure out if I was really gay in high school. Anything else on top of that would have been too much. Knowing I was bossy, that was easy. I don’t think I had any idea about domination, much less age play.
“I’d known that I liked older guys for a while, and the age play stuff popped up when I was looking for free porn. Randomly searching for kink and older guys might not have been the best idea, now that I think about it.” More emotion was starting to work its way into his voice, but it was still a long way from the warm man I’d had dinner with just minutes before.
I wasn’t sure if not having the same internet access back when I was younger was a good thing or not. It would have been nice to have figured things out earlier, but it seemed to have added a whole new layer of stress for the younger generation.
More information didn’t always make people happier.
“I was dating this guy for months. We’d fooled around a little, but he’d never pressured me. I thought we were…special…not like in love, but I thought I mattered.” Cracks of emotion broke his voice, but he didn’t stop. “One day we were making out, and he asked me about a fantasy.”
He paused, and I knew he was reliving that moment. When he spoke again, his voice came out softer. “He told me he’d go first. He said that he wanted to spank me. He said it was cool if I didn’t want to, but that it was a fantasy he thought was hot.”
Neon signs flashing “danger” were going off in my brain, but there was nothing I could do.
“I thought it was close enough to what I wanted that he’d understand. So I told him.”
I could feel the wetness of his tears as they soaked into my shirt. I wanted to tell him to stop, that he didn’t need to do this to himself, but I knew that was useless. It needed to come out, and if I had to guess, he’d held it in for too long already.
“I finished telling him, not everything, but enough. He pulled away and didn’t say much, but I thought he just needed to think about it. I knew he’d be surprised, so I was expecting a reaction. But what I wasn’t expecting was for him to tell everyone.” His breathing was stuttered, and I could feel him trying to control his emotions.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here. Take as much time as you need.” More tears hit my shirt, but he took several deep breaths and started again.
“By the next morning, everyone at school knew. I walked in and the questions and looks started before I even got to my first class. I didn’t know what to do, but my best friend at the time did. She found me and helped me to get out of school without getting in trouble with the office. We spent the rest of the day trying to figure out a plan.” His voice was calmer, and it felt like the tears had stopped.
“She was just mad at me because she’d had to hear about the rumors from some snotty girl she hated. She never asked me if it was true or what I liked; she just helped me plan how to get even with the bastard. It was a pretty good plan, but we never got to use it. When I came home that afternoon, my parents were waiting by the door. Some kid’s parents from school had called them to make sure they knew what their son was up to.”
Horrible things were flashing through my mind. I’d seen the aftermath of something like that too many times not to know what could happen.
“They wanted to know if it was true—if I was some kind of degenerate.”
He paused long enough that I was starting to worry where the story was going. Giving him a tight hug, I spoke softly. “What happened next?”
“I lied. I told them he’d come on to me and that I’d been horrified. I lied my ass off. I didn’t know what else to do. Maybe I should have been braver and stood up for myself. I don’t know. But by the end of the night, I had a plane ticket to go live with my aunt and my parents were convinced the boy was out to get me. I played a really convincing homophobe.”
I couldn’t imagine going through that. I’d faced all kinds of situations that inspired fear, but standing in front of your family while they tore through you like that had to be terrifying. He’d still been so young there was no way he could have managed on his own.
Wrapping my arms around him even tighter, I turned and kissed his forehead. “I’m so proud of you, Baby. You thought on your feet and made the best of a terrible situation.”
“You don’t think I took the coward’s way out? That I should have said something to make them understand?” His voice was broken and I could feel his tears start again.
“There’s no right or wrong in those situations. You were too young to be on your own. I’ve seen what happens to boys who are kicked out of their house for being gay, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. You made the best of a terrible situation, and I could never fault you for that.” Relaxing my arms, I caressed up and down his back while he cried silent tears.
My broken-hearted boy sat there in my arms while we rocked for a long time. When he spoke again, his voice sounded stronger. “My aunt was really good to me, though. She didn’t care that I was gay and didn’t bring up the other stuff. She got me enrolled in school and did her best to make everything seem normal.”
“I’m glad. How are things with your parents now?”
He shrugged. “Okay, I guess. We talk a few times a year. And they flew out for my high school graduation.”
What?
“Have you gone back to see them?” I wasn’t sure where they were, but it didn’t sound like they were right around the corner. Had he really meant he’d only seen them once in all this time?
He snorted; between the tears and a now stuffed-up nose it was a terrible sound that made me smile, even though the words weren’t funny. “No. They’ve never asked me to come back and I can’t imagine walking in their house or even around town. No, I’ll never go back.”
His words were final and so incredibly sad, like he’d resigned himself to what’d happened. Like he thought he deserved it. “Good. You don’t need people who are that messed up in your life. You’ve got your aunt and friends, possibly even a kinky one. You’re figuring out who you are and what you want. You did nothing wrong, and nothing about what you want is shameful. Everyone needs different things, and that’s not bad. We’re not designed to all be the same. They just don’t understand that.”
“I keep trying to tell myself that, but it’s hard.” I felt more than heard the deep breath Eric took, but there was no missing his hands as they started absently caressing up and down my chest.
“How about I help remind you when it’s too hard for you to do it on your own?”
His hands froze, and he looked down at his lap so all I could see was the top of his head. I wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, but I was patient enough to find out. So we rocked, and I cuddled him close while he figured it out.
“That sounds more like…more like…not a kind of thing…not the kind of thing you’d do for a date…” He stumbled through the words in fits and starts, but eventually, it all came out.
“You’re right. That’s the kind of thing a daddy would do for his special boy. He’d help his boy remember how important he was and how nothing they wanted was wrong and how he’s perfect just the way he is.” I could feel Eric start to relax against me, and the soft caress of his fingers as he traced patterns on my chest started again.
He was quiet for a moment, then spoke again. Each time he spoke his voice seemed to get stronger and more sure. “Yeah, that’s what a daddy would do.”