Chapter Twenty-Two
Taine
As they settled into the last leg of the journey to Cardiff after swapping trains in London, Taine could sense the mixed emotions rolling off the man beside him in waves. Freddie had his nose shoved so far into his novel that only part of his forehead was visible. He was definitely hiding from him, the situation, or both.
While happy to let it go for the first bit of their two-hour trip from London to Cardiff, Taine decided the silence had gone on long enough. It didn’t take a mystic ability to guess at least part of the source of the issue. He believed he could allay a majority of Freddie’s fears.
He dropped his hand on Freddie’s knee. “Good book?”
“So far.”
“Do you have plans for Sunday night?” Taine asked casually.
“Tomorrow night?” Freddie’s brown eyes flickered to his, not quite managing to mask a flash of vulnerability. “No plans. I’m not due in to work until Monday. Bitsy’ll want attention. My flat’ll need a clean. I should probably call my dads so they know I wasn’t chopped into pieces and thrown in a canal.”
“How about I come over to cook for you? I make a mean steak and chips.” Taine wouldn’t admit to it being the one thing he’d mastered in the kitchen. “Might bring a few extras with me, as well.”
“Extras?” Freddie’s eyes went wide. He shifted in his seat, which made Taine smirk. “Twmffat.”
“Thank you.” Taine knew enough Welsh now to know he’d been called an idiot. He didn’t mind. He got a thrill out of eliciting such an immediate reaction out of Freddie. Careful, Taine, your Dom side is showing. “So, supper? Tomorrow? Say around seven?”
Freddie nodded sharply and immediately buried his face in his book once again. Taine relaxed into the quiet to consider how to ease the man into a conversation about some of his sexual preferences. He belatedly released his firm grip on the knee he’d taken possession of earlier.
A little over two hours found them arriving at the Cardiff train station. Freddie had left his car at home, so Taine offered him a lift. He somehow ended up following him up to his flat. In the end, he was glad his instincts had urged him to do it.
Ripped blue tape lay around on the floor by the door of his flat. The smell of fresh paint filled the air. Something had quite obviously happened.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out the homophobic twats had returned. The new paint on the door indicated what they’d done. Taine watched Freddie’s normally cheerful expression crumple in an instant.
The younger man moved rather mechanically forward to shove his key into the lock and open the door. Taine kicked the police tape to the side, and they stepped into the flat.
“I’m so tired of people’s hatred. It drains all the happiness from the world.” Freddie tossed his keys blindly to the side, missing the table by the door and hitting the floor instead. He collapsed on the couch with one hand absently stroking his cat, who hopped up into his lap. “I thought Cardiff would be a wonderful start to living life on my own. It’s turning into the worst sort of nightmare.”
Letting Freddie vent his anguish, Taine picked up a note from the welcome mat. It had clearly been shoved underneath the door. The landlord had apparently caught the teens in the act and called the police, who would be by on Sunday for a chat.
Taine sat next to Freddie and wrapped an arm around his tense shoulders. “Police caught them.”
“They’ll be out to harass me soon enough,” he huffed hopelessly. “Always are.”
One couldn’t necessarily argue with him. The way the laws read, the most someone would get for a hate crime would likely be a fine and up to six months imprisonment.
Thus far, he knew the juvenile offenders had been fined. A court might lock them up this time, but it would place Freddie in the same exact spot afterwards.
Bastards.
The sad truth of the matter was, if the two idiots had attacked Freddie over being Jewish, they’d likely have received a harsher punishment. Unfair. The world around them didn’t necessarily offer the same protections when it came to matters of sexual preference.
“Move.” Taine kept his voice firm but gentle. “There are much better areas of the city to live.”
Freddie shrugged.
“You could ask Graham’s brother to give you a hand. He’s a land agent in Cornwall. He’ll know someone local you could talk to.” Taine would be giving the man a call himself no matter what Freddie decided to do. “What can it hurt?”
Freddie gave another half-hearted lift of his shoulders. “Why must people be so completely vicious? I’ve done nothing to them. I barely know them.”
“How about I fix you that steak tonight?” Taine tugged him closer, his arm squeezing tightly to offer comfort. “Or cheese? Is there some secret cheese club I can take you to where you can swim in the stuff?”
“Swim in cheese?” Freddie’s smile might’ve been dimmed, but at least it was there. “What a waste of the good stuff. What kind would work as a pool?”
“No idea.” Taine ran his fingers along the edge of his jaw, scratching underneath his beard for a moment. “What’s in your fridge?”
“Not much.” Freddie pushed up to his feet, cradling his cat in his arms. He trudged into the kitchen to open the fridge and stare gloomily into it. “I’ve got some dodgy leftovers, cheese, more cheese, all the cheese.”
“Dodgy leftovers?” Taine joined him in the kitchen. He leaned over his shoulders to look in, making sure to press his upper body against Freddie’s back. “Is that soup? Who keeps soup leftovers?”
“What’s wrong with soup?” Freddie tilted his head around to the side and inhaled slightly when their lips practically grazed together. “It’s good stuff.”
“We’re not having dodgy soup.” Taine looped his arms around Freddie’s waist and shifted him away from the fridge, allowing the door to swing shut. “How about a takeaway? What’re you in the mood to have?”
“Something to cheer me up.” Freddie wiggled out of his embrace, Bitsy meowing in protest at being shuffled in her comfortably purring state. “How about Happy House Takeaway? They’ve a brilliant beef curry.”
They noshed on curry and watched Doctor Who reruns until the day of travelling caught up with them. Taine didn’t even realise he’d fallen asleep until a sandpaper tongue licked his cheek. He batted away Bisty and glanced down at the man asleep beside him with his head in Taine’s lap.
It feels far earlier than seven in the morning.
Rousing Freddie from his sleep, Taine promised to come by later for supper. He had to check on his own apartment—and Speedy. Scottie had promised to check in on his hamster, but one could never be certain how the man would take to responsibility of any type.
Not well, usually.
And BC wants him to run a nightclub with all of our names attached to it?
Shite.
Both his house and hamster were thankfully unharmed by their week in Scottie’s dubious care. Taine would have to send the man a bottle of whisky by way of gratitude. He filled his massive Jacuzzi tub and sank into it. The strains of his blues playlist played in the background.
He considered the week away to have been a success. His mind and body had definitely needed space to relax. He could approach starting as a part-time coach for the Cardiff University rugby team with more energy and enthusiasm.
Sinking further into the warm water, Taine rested his head on the edge of the bath. His time post retirement had sped up and slowed down in equal measures. It felt more like November or December, not mid-October.
A buzzing from the floor had him reaching down to fish his mobile out of his trousers pocket. BC wanted to know how his seduction had gone. Knobdobber. A message from Scottie had a similar question in with a far more vulgar phrasing. Why are these people my friends?
Remi: Tens? Sarah wants you to bring your new boyfriend for dinner. Didn’t know you’d moved to relationship from one holiday? You haven’t, have you? You’re not that desperate.
Taine: I’m not desperate at all. Thanks for that. Did you want something other than to join the others in taking the piss?
Remi: Dinner? Next week? Bring the kid.
Taine: He’s a grown man.
Remi: You’d know, wouldn’t you?
Taine: If I wanted this shite, I would’ve answered Scottie’s text. I’ll see if Freddie’s interested.
Of all his friends, Remi would be the one least likely to offend Freddie. The Frenchie and his wife were good people. He would enjoy supper with them—whether the young nurse joined them or not.
He found himself hoping Freddie would want to join him. Not my boyfriend, barely my lover, but nothing wrong with hoping that it might evolve into something. He splashed water into his face. Shaking his head to clear his eyes, it became clear his mind and his cock were of one mind when it came to the lithe form of the twenty-six-year-old.
Sliding one hand along his chest into the water to wrap around his semihard shaft, Taine allowed his thoughts to drift to some of the toys in his closet and how he might use them on Freddie. He had a special set of restraints he’d always wanted to try out. His cock went from semi to fully aroused just imagining it.
The water splashed around him. It lapped against the now sensitive head like a constant tease. His fingers nimbly stroked to a steady rhythm.
With his eyes closed, Taine pictured Freddie stretched out on his bed. His pale olive skin would contrast beautifully with the navy silk sheets. His wrists would be cuffed to the iron headboard and his legs forced apart with the metal spreader.
What a stunning visual.
He could readily imagine the pink lines along his arse from where Taine had spanked him. His shaft twitched almost painfully with the thought of enjoying Freddie’s pert bottom. If the younger man enjoyed stories so much, they would pen a bestseller together in his bedroom.
As Taine lost himself in fantasies of what might happen, his hand sped up rapidly. His fingers tightened around his shaft. He spent his release in the bath water—a fire burning in his belly to implement even a portion of his imaginings.
Once the tub had drained, Taine hopped out and grabbed a towel to dry off. He strolled into his bedroom and straight over to the antique chest at the foot of his bed. It contained all the toys best kept away from prying eyes.
All right, which toys say, “I came to play,” but won’t terrify the curiosity out of him?