I’m sure to anyone inside watching, I look like a crazy person. It’s a sex shop, and I’m a grown man; this shouldn’t be a big deal. And normally it wouldn’t be. But knowing what’s in there, I can’t get my heart to stop thumping erratically or my palms to stop sweating. After spotting the shop, I went on their website and confirmed that they do in fact have puppy stuff in there. So close, but so fucking intimidating.
“Just go in, take a look, and leave. No big deal,” I pep talk myself. “It won’t be any different than looking at the hoods and stuff online.”
With one more deep breath, I push through the door and step into the shop.
“Hi,” the small man behind the counter greets me with a friendly smile. “Can I help you find anything today?” I give a quick shake of my head and a half smile that earns me an understanding look. “If you change your mind and have any questions, let me know.”
I turn away from him, heading deeper into the shop, and there it is, hanging innocently on the back wall alongside a number of other accessories—collars, knee pads, mittens, toys—but right now, the only thing I can see is the hood. My heart gives one of those odd flutters again, my hands shaking as I slowly make my way toward the display.
I glance around to see if anyone is watching me and realize no one else is in the store right now. I look back at the employee and find him leaning against the counter, thumbing through his phone like he couldn’t care less about what kinky shit I’m here looking for. And I’m sure he can’t. He works in a sex shop for fuck’s sake; I’m sure he’s seen it all.
The pleasant scent of leather lingers in the air around the display as I near it. When I come to a stop in front of it, my knees tremble, practically knocking together, and my breath is coming so fast I’m a little concerned I’m about to pass out from lack of oxygen.
I reach out an unsteady hand and when my fingers brush against the smooth material of the hood, a rush of excitement zips through me like an electric shock. To my surprise and slight horror, my cock begins to perk up as my fingertips dance along the muzzle and around the eyeholes, mapping the topography of it.
“You can try it on if you want.” The voice makes me jump, nearly knocking the entire display off the wall.
“Oh, I don’t…” I shake my head quickly as I look over my shoulder to find the employee a few feet away.
“Here, let me help,” he offers gently, stepping around me and pulling the hood down. “I like this one a lot too. I used to have a more full coverage hood, but it made me feel a bit claustrophobic. So, I went without a hood for a long time after that, until we got these in, and I couldn’t get over how cute and perfect they were. I special ordered one with pink markings on it though to match my pink leash and harness I have at home.”
“You…” I lick my lips and watch as he holds the hood out to me. “You’re a pup?”
His smile widens, and he nods. I eye the hood, willing myself to reach out and take it from him, try it on like he’s suggesting, but terrified of how I’ll feel, how much I’ll like it. His smile stutters a little.
“Did I misread this? Are you a handler, not a pup?” he frowns, looking apologetic as he lowers the proffered hood.
“No,” I answer quickly, nearly grabbing it from him before he can take it away. “No, I am…I’m a pup.” The words come out barely above a whisper but as soon as they’re past my lips, a huge weight is lifted from my shoulders and an even heavier one settles in the pit of my stomach. It feels a lot like coming out, except this time I’m terrified of what Lars will think when I tell him.
The man smiles again as I finally take the hood from him and put it over my head.
It’s a bit like wearing a Halloween mask, the smooth material against my face, my peripheral vision wanting to dart to the edges of the eyeholes as I get used to it. But it’s not difficult to breathe like I expected it to be.
“Here, take a look,” he offers, putting a hand on my shoulder and turning me around.
My breath catches, and my eyes go wide as I look at myself in the floor length mirror.
“I look so…cute.”
He giggles. “You really do.”
I’m not sure how long I stand there staring at myself, but he doesn’t say a word, just stands beside me, smiling at my reflection with me. Eventually, I take the hood off and find myself feeling oddly cold with it off.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve asked your name.”
“Adrian. And if you make a Rocky joke, I’ll punch you in the balls,” he warns, and I laugh.
“I’m Jonah, and if you make a joke about a whale, I’ll punch you in the balls,” I counter.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jonah. Do you want help picking out any other accessories?”
“No, just the hood today.”
Adrian leads me up to the register to check me out, placing the hood into a plain box and then into an opaque plastic bag without any sort of distinctive name or markings on it. There’s no way anyone looking at it would know what’s inside, but I’m still sweating bullets as I step outside with my purchase.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I get home and don’t see Lars’ car in the driveway. But I still call out as I step inside, just in case. When I don’t get any answer, I hurry to the guest bedroom and open the closet, shifting a few things around on the top shelf to make room for my bag and then stashing it away so Lars won’t stumble across it.
Then, to ease my guilt, I go to the kitchen to start cooking dinner. All the while, my mind lingers on the hood hidden in the closet, begging to be tried on again.
Lars
Jonah fidgets through dinner, playing with his food more than eating it, and I have to bite my tongue a few times against the urge to sternly demand he settle and eat. His gaze flicks to me frequently, and I could almost swear there’s something he wants to say but can’t seem to find the words.
“Everything okay?” I check.
“Fine,” he answers entirely too quickly, ticking my concern higher. The rift that has formed between us is still sitting heavy on me, and I don’t know how to breach it.
Reaching across the table, I place my hand over his, letting the warmth of his skin seep into mine and offer comfort. It seems to be doing the same for him, because he slowly calms and some of the worry behind his eyes turns softer.
“If something’s not fine, you can tell me.”
“I know,” he assures me, leaning over the table slightly as if his body unconsciously wants to be closer to mine. He shifts in his seat once more, his eyes going to mine. My heart stutters when I find fear and uncertainty there. Not overwhelmingly so, but I’ve known him my entire life, and I can read him better than anyone.
The only other time I’ve seen this expression on his face was when he was trying to figure out how to come out to me. I knew for months before he actually spoke the words, but I didn’t want to push him before he was ready to say them on his own.
“JJ, do you remember what I said to you when we were fifteen? The night of the homecoming dance when you were trying to come out to me and chickened out?”
Jonah’s eyes widen a fraction, and he nods. “You said that whatever it was, it wouldn’t change what we have and that I could tell you when I was ready.”
I brush my thumb against the back of his hand, leaning over the table toward him and brushing a strand of his copper hair off his forehead and back into place.
“I meant it then, and it still holds true now. You and me? We’re forever. That was true then, and it’s even more true now. Whatever it is that you’re afraid to tell me, just know that whenever you’re ready, it won’t change anything.”
Jonah drops his gaze, and his hand stiffens under mine.
“How can you be so sure? What if it does change things?”
My heart beats faster, fear mixing with curiosity. I knew there was something he’s been hiding the past few days, but to hear him all but confirm it…
“Impossible,” I assure him with more confidence t
han I feel before pressing our lips together to let the familiar taste and feel of him ease my worry.
When we part, Jonah is visibly more relaxed, but no less distracted. I resolve to give him time to find the words for whatever it is he wants to tell me and not push him.
Chapter 9
Jonah
Lars’ car is in the driveway already when I get home. I drove around for a while again tonight. I thought buying the hood last week would stop me from sitting in the parking lot of Kink Closet, but I’ve been drawn there anyway. There’s so much more I want to go in and see, touch, bring home to try out for real. And I can’t stop thinking about Adrian. Not in that way, but as someone who might have answers to the questions that won’t stop plaguing me, like how do I tell Lars about all of this? But I haven’t been able to work up the nerve to go inside again. Maybe if I didn’t have to talk to him in person, it would be easier.
After our talk a week ago, I’ve noticed Lars pulling back, no doubt trying to give me space. He hasn’t asked why I’ve been quiet, or tried to initiate sex, or even asked why I’ve been getting out of bed at night to sit on my laptop in the living room. I can feel him watching me some mornings, can practically hear the questions as they form in his mind, but he never says them out loud, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I know I need to tell him about all of this, but I just don’t know how.
I haven’t touched the hood since I stashed it in the guest room closet, partially because I haven’t had much time alone since I bought it, but also because I’m afraid of how it made me feel, how it made me need.
I take a deep breath and get out of my car to go inside.
I know I have to tell him, and I want to. But once I tell him, things will get real. Either he’ll think I’m a weirdo, or he’ll be up for experimenting, and I’m honestly not sure which of those two possibilities freaks me out more.
I step inside and don’t see Lars anywhere, so I head to the bedroom. Finding it empty as well, I flop down on the bed with a tired groan, just as my phone pings from my pocket. Wiggling my hand into the confined space, I free my phone and check the message.
Lars: What are you doing?
I cock my head as I read the message, trying to figure out if there’s some sort of hidden context. Is he trying to sext with me or something? I mean, we used to do that all the time when we first got together, but not in the past six years or so.
Jonah: Nothing, what are you doing?
Lars: Are you in the bedroom?
Huh, maybe this is sexting after all. I grin as I settle back and get comfortable, then type a response.
Jonah: I am. Do you want to know what I’m wearing?
Lars: …I like where your mind is at, but can you just bring some toilet paper to the downstairs bathroom for me?
That message is followed by a poop emoji, and I sigh as I climb off the bed. Grabbing a roll of toilet paper from under the sink in our master bathroom, I take it downstairs, open the bathroom door, and toss it to him.
“And who says romance dies?” Lars calls to me as I shut the door on my way back out. Chuckling, I shake my head and beeline for the kitchen to write toilet paper down on our grocery list for the week.
When he emerges from the bathroom, I’m still laughing and shaking my head at him.
“I thought you were sexting me.”
Lars waggles his eyebrows, stepping close and wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his chin against my chest and looking up at me.
“Be careful what you wish for,” he warns. “I’m going to sext the shit out of you now. I would’ve already been doing it if I’d known you wanted it.”
“Yeah?” I ask hopefully. There’s something tantalizingly naughty about the idea of getting dirty messages or pictures from him throughout the day. “You don’t think we’ve been together too long for that kind of stuff?”
Lars scoffs, reaching around and grabbing my ass cheeks in both hands. “There’s no time limit on chemistry. People get lazy when they’ve been together a long time, but we don’t have to stop trying to excite each other.”
“Yeah?” I ask again, feeling nervous as the topic starts to dance close to the thing that’s been on my mind for weeks now. “So, you’d be interested in trying new things in bed?”
He quirks an eyebrow at me curiously. “As long as it’s not gross or weird, I’m up for anything. I thought you’d have known that by now.”
Weird. That’s exactly how he described the puppies at the parade. I force a laugh and step out of his grasp, turning to find some way to busy myself in the kitchen, not wanting him to look too long in my eyes. He’s always been able to read me, and right now he’d see all the fear and shame dancing in my expression, and I’m not sure I’d be able to keep lying to him if he pressed me.
“Jonah,” he says my name, which stops me in my tracks due to how rarely he uses my actual name to address me. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Hm?” I swallow the emotions down and turn to look at him, my face as blank as I can make it. “No, I just thought I’d get started on dinner. Unless you want to go out? We haven’t had a date night in ages, and neither of us work tomorrow.”
“Date night sounds great. Let’s get changed and we can go to that little Italian place you love. Then maybe we can go to a bar for a couple of drinks or something?”
The tightness in my chest eases, and I manage a genuine smile.
“Sounds great. I need a quick shower, then I’ll be ready to go.”
Lars
I follow Jonah to the bedroom and then watch him disappear into the master bath. I’m puzzled over his question in the kitchen…well, more so the whiplash inducing pullback immediately following the question.
Before I have time to give it much thought, he’s stepping out of the steamy bathroom, his hair and body dripping wet and utterly mouthwatering.
“Fuck date night if you’re going to be walking around the house all naked and wet.”
He grins, this one much more convincing than any from the kitchen.
“No way am I giving up the goods before you treat me to dinner. What kind of man do you take me for?” He feigns offense before turning toward the dresser to grab one of the folded towels from the top of it, wiggling his ass in my direction as he dries his hair.
“God, you’re such a tease,” I groan, my cock growing hard at the display. “You know, you haven’t let me top you in ages.”
He tsks and shoots me a look over his shoulder. “Let you? Baby, all you have to do it come and get it.”
I palm my erection through my pants, squeezing it and making another breathless sound in the back of my throat.
“You really need to stop teasing if you expect us to leave the house tonight.”
He laughs, and the warm sound fills my chest like a balloon, giving me hope that whatever it is that’s going on will pass in time and everything will be okay between us.
Once I manage to tear my gaze away from his naked body, I get changed into slightly nicer clothes and we head out.
After eating our weight in pasta, we decide to go around the corner from the restaurant to have a few drinks at a small gay bar we used to frequent when we were in our twenties.
“I feel ancient,” I whisper to Jonah as we scan the room for somewhere to sit after getting our drinks from the bar.
“We’re only thirty-five; we’re not that old.”
“Yeah, but most of the guys in here look like they probably needed fake IDs to get served.”
“Well, then scratch this bar off our list of pick up locations,” he concludes sarcastically, earning him a pinch to his ass that makes him yelp.
We finally spot a table in the corner, so we make our way through the small crowd to claim it before anyone else can. Unfortunately, someone else seems to have the same idea. A petite man sets his drink down and slides onto one of the high stools just before we reach it.
“Damn,” I mutter, and the man looks up at my muttered epitaph.
He looks as young as most of the other patrons of the bar, his features delicate and pretty. Beside me, Jonah seems to stiffen as the man’s eyes dart between the two of us for a few seconds before settling on Jonah.
“Hey, Jonah,” he says, a smile lighting his face.
I turn my head to see Jonah’s reaction. How does he know this adorable little pixie? Not likely from work, new nurses tend to call him Dr. Hill until he gets annoyed enough to tell them to knock it off.
Jonah’s face is pale, his eyes wide, and his lips parted in surprise. He darts his eyes between me and this man and the awkwardness of this situation settles over me. Why is this situation awkward?
Taking a step forward, I offer my hand to the man.
“Hi, I’m Lars, Jonah’s partner. And you are?” The man does the same eye darting thing and then lets his attention rest on Jonah for a few seconds as if he’s trying to read his mind and figure out what he’s supposed to say.
Irritation and maybe a hint of jealousy start to simmer in my chest.
“Adrian,” he finally offers his hand, but not a further explanation of how he knows Jonah. “Oh, there’s my friend I’ve been waiting for. Why don’t you guys take the table,” he offers before grabbing his drink and hurrying away.
Jonah shifts his weight uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the floor. My mind is running over the encounter, trying to come up with a rational explanation for what just happened, but I come up blank. There is one interpretation my imagination offers, but I refuse to entertain it.
“So, who was that?” I ask in a clipped tone as I climb onto the stool Adrian just vacated.
“Adrian,” Jonah answers, claiming a seat of his own.
I clench my teeth and try again. “How do you two know each other?”
Jonah shrugs. “We don’t really; we’ve just run into each other before.”
Stay (Working Out The Kinks Book 1) Page 5