by Jane Davitt
“Get dressed,” Liam said wearily. “Austin, if you want to go rinse out your mouth and that bin, go ahead. We need to talk, and we can’t do it like this.”
“I’ll clean the bin,” Jay said, as subdued as Austin had ever seen him. He disappeared with it, leaving Austin to give Liam a helpless look, wanting some sign from Liam that everything would be okay.
Instead Liam got to his feet. “I’ve changed my mind. I can’t stay here. I need…I need some time to work out what the hell I did wrong.”
“Nothing,” Austin said urgently. “Liam, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
He wasn’t sure Liam heard him. There was a blind, dazed look on Liam’s face for a moment, followed by a frown of concentration. Then Liam shook his head as if he were being pestered by a fly and walked to the door.
Austin wanted to chase after him, grab Liam’s arm, say the right things, all the perfect words to mend this, but he stayed where he was.
He heard Jay saying Liam’s name, heard Liam say something about talking to them tomorrow, but that was vague and far away, muffled voices in a fog.
The only clear sound, painfully sharp and final, was the slam of the door.
Chapter Ten
Liam got into his car and closed the door, robbed of a satisfyingly emphatic slam by modern engineering. He made up for it by yanking at the seat belt so hard it jammed. Once he’d dealt with that minor issue, he shoved the key at the ignition slot and cursed as the key ring fell from his shaking hand.
He needed to leave before Austin or Jay looked out the window and saw him still sitting here, but he was in no condition to drive. Trying to be sensible, he bent over and retrieved his keys, carefully inserted the car key into place, and left it there.
The street was deserted on this chilly evening, with a fine sleet falling to discourage anyone but dog walkers and the hardiest joggers.
Liam leaned back in his seat, his breath coming in loud, harsh pants.
Walking up to their apartment, anticipating his welcome, using the key they’d given him with a pleasurable sense of belonging… He’d thought about how thrilled they’d be to see him, hadn’t considered explaining how hard he’d worked all day toward the possibility that he’d be able to finish up in time to see them, no matter how briefly.
Hearing Jay’s voice, thick with arousal, and feeling immediate annoyance that they were breaking his rule again, only to discover that they were doing something so much worse…
He struck the wheel with his hands, once, twice, jarring it, leaving his palms throbbing, but it wasn’t enough to drain the rage and distress rising to suffocate him. He couldn’t sort his reactions out, separating disillusionment from concern, hurt from loss; they formed a tangled, messy knot.
“So fucking stupid,” he said, needing to hear it said, even with no audience but himself. “How could they do that without me? Anything could have happened. Jesus.”
When he thought of what Austin had been about to do, he wanted a bucket of his own to throw up into. He saw Jay’s hair, that dark, smooth fall of silk catch fire, the smooth skin on his back bubble and blister, and choked on sourness.
There was a half-empty bottle of water in the cup holder. He opened it and swallowed down as much as he could stomach. It helped with the taste in the back of his throat, but not much else.
As he sat, his anger cooled to an icy resolve. He hated the position they’d forced him into. He wasn’t interested in punishing them for misbehaving, not for this sort of misbehavior, at least. They were adults, and he’d meant it when he said he didn’t want to be a father figure to them. When he disciplined them, it was for mutual pleasure or small disobediences within a scene, nothing else. He would never have punished Jay for spending too much on books or Austin for getting a speeding ticket; that was none of his business. This did come under his authority, he supposed, but it still felt uncomfortably like being faced with his children, guilt-stricken and wide-eyed, caught with a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, about to experiment with smoking.
He’d taken away their computer privileges for a week, shown them photos of their Great-Uncle George in the terminal stages of emphysema, and made them give every penny of their saved allowance to a cancer charity, setting back their acquisition of a new iPod each by a few months. Barbara thought he’d been too hard on them, but to the best of his knowledge neither had ever smoked after that.
Dealing with Austin and Jay wouldn’t be as simple.
Christ, where did they go from here? He needed—no, he loved them too much to call it quits. He refused to consider the possibility of walking away from them for good.
You’ll never be able to introduce them as yours, a voice he’d been ignoring for months whispered in his head. Never be able to tell the world you’re their lover, their Dom, their anything. And if you did, if people find out…boom! Life, career, everything, over. Are they worth that?
His hands were shaking again. Fuck.
Reluctantly Liam accepted that they had to deal with this now. As much as he wished he could take some time—drive home, have a few drinks, go to bed—and put off discussing what he’d just walked in on and how they were going to move forward, they were adults, and waiting wasn’t going to make it any easier. It would just delay the inevitable.
The steps up to their apartment were like a mountain he needed to climb, but the door flew open as soon as he knocked, as if they’d been waiting for him. He felt a moment of shame for having left the way he did, for the twin looks of despair and hope on Jay’s and Austin’s faces, and as that moment passed he realized what he needed to do.
“Pack a bag,” he said crisply. “Both of you.”
“Sir?” Austin’s voice was higher than usual, a surprised squeak that at another time would’ve made Liam smile. “Where are we going?”
“Where do you think?” Liam asked, allowing some asperity to show. “To my house, of course. Where I can keep an eye on you both.”
“Your house? Not ours? Did I screw that up too?”
Jay sounded so desolate, so lost that Liam couldn’t stop himself from pulling Jay to him in a quick, comforting hug, releasing him to do the same to Austin. Even as angry and worried as he was, he couldn’t see them like this and turn away from their distress. Then he took a step backward and held up his hand, warding them off. They got one hug. No more. “No. You screwed up plenty, but not that. It’s going to be your home. You’re just moving in sooner than we planned. I mean it. Pack. Now.”
He waited by the door as they got together what they’d need for the night and the next day, using the time to calm down and plan ahead. They’d need to talk—not a conversation he was looking forward to—and he’d need to deal with what lay beneath this reckless stupidity, but God, he didn’t want to do it tonight.
They joined him at the door, each with an overnight bag, Jay’s most likely containing two or three books, if not more, both of them looking chastened and apprehensive.
“Have you eaten?”
“We had a sandwich before…before we…” Austin’s voice faltered. “I don’t think we’re very hungry, Sir.”
“You’ll both eat something later,” Liam told them. Austin’s sandwich hadn’t been inside him for long, after all. “Sure you’ve got everything you’ll need?”
They nodded meekly, leaving him to wonder how long it would be before they were back to normal with him. He liked them submissive but not subdued.
They’d lost so much ground tonight…wandered so far offtrack. His fault? It had to be. He was supposed to notice these things, be aware of how they were feeling…
“Time to go,” he said before he could get too lost in self-recriminations.
Liam waited until they were outside to speak again. “Both of you in my car. We’ll come back for the rest tomorrow.” Or maybe the day after, he thought, but no point in making it more difficult than it already was. “Austin in front.” Letting them both sit in back would make him feel like a chauffeur, and having J
ay in front would make Austin fret, which was yet another issue they’d have to clear up sooner or later.
Neither of them spoke on the drive to his house, and honestly Liam didn’t want to get into a complicated conversation while he was behind the wheel. It was better to wait.
They were like pale shadows in the entryway as Liam closed the front door behind them and removed his shoes. Fine droplets of water coated all of them from the short walk from the car to the door—jackets, slacks, hair. “Let’s sit down,” he said. It wasn’t an order, more a request, but just then he might have been able to suggest anything and they probably would have gone along with it. All three of them sat on the couch, Jay in the middle.
Hopefully sitting would loosen their tongues. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Jay thinks it’s his fault,” Austin said quietly. “But really it was more mine. If I hadn’t agreed to try it, that would have been the end of it.”
“It’s not so much that you did it, though I’ve got some new gray hairs after walking in and seeing you about to set fire to Jay’s back. It’s more the reason why you couldn’t wait or trust me to be the one deciding if it was safe or not.” Liam glanced between them. “I said I needed to work out what I’d done wrong, and I meant it. For you to think that was something you were justified in doing, I must have failed you along the line, and I’m so very sorry.”
Jay laughed, but there was no humor behind it. “We’re all blaming ourselves. How screwed up are we?”
“It’s better than blaming Liam,” Austin said. He addressed Liam directly. “You didn’t let us down. Jay just needed it so much, and you weren’t saying yes or no, and then when we found out you couldn’t see us tonight… Jay’s not good at waiting. But I should have said no. Shouldn’t have gone behind your back and gotten the supplies.”
Thank God they were talking, finally. “Yes,” Liam told Austin. “You should have refused. Or come to me, though I suppose your first loyalty is to Jay.”
And didn’t the idea of that sting.
Austin looked thoroughly miserable. “I want him to be happy. I saw how you and he have been fighting, and I thought if I did it, he’d be less…”
“Of an asshole?” Jay suggested.
Austin met his gaze steadily. “Yeah. Because you were ruining the scenes for me, if you really want to know. You get off on being forced to give in, and I understand that, and it’s hot watching Liam make you, but the last few months it’s been a power struggle, and that’s just wrong.” He pointed at Liam. “He’s in charge, not you, Jay.”
Jay looked awful, washed-out, his lips trembling. “I didn’t… God, Austin, I never meant to spoil things for you, or you, Liam. I just… I didn’t know where I stood with you once we started sleeping together. I thought you’d open up more, that you’d spend time with us, but nothing really changed, and I felt…used. Like you’d found out you liked guys too, and hey, look, here are two hot ones I can play around with. You say you love us, but you never show us.”
“I got that,” Liam said. “It’s why I asked you to move in. Wasn’t that enough?”
There was a sullen twist to Jay’s mouth now. “We’re moving into the basement. Locked away from you.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Liam pressed his lips together before he said anything else, giving himself a moment to push back his annoyance. “That’s not a— It’s not a prison. One of your objections to moving in was losing your independence, Jay. Remember that? Giving you your own space to retreat to was to solve that problem, but I don’t expect you to live anywhere but up here with me.”
“You’re not being fair,” Austin said, but his words were addressed to Jay. “He’s right. And you know it has to look like we’re living apart from him. Otherwise people would start gossiping, and none of us want that.”
Jay hunched his shoulders, bowing forward so that none of his face was visible. “I know,” he said, his voice cracking. “I just… God, why don’t you punish me, Sir? Stop talking and tell me to get naked, tie me up, whip me?”
Liam snorted. “Because I have a feeling you’d enjoy that far too much.” He ran his hand down Jay’s back. “Stop being dramatic and talk to me. Get it all off your chest. I won’t snap at you again. This is what I want. You telling me how you feel. I just wish you could’ve done it before, but I’m guessing that’s down to me being terrifying?”
“You aren’t,” Austin said. “Not really. It’s just so complicated. I guess there are people who’ve figured it all out—after years together, probably—but we aren’t there yet. I think Jay and I want to know that you’re in this long-term. It’s a little scary, knowing that this is kind of a first for you. We aren’t sure if you’re going to wake up one morning and decide you’re done or you made a mistake.”
“I don’t think I will.” Liam swallowed. His throat was dry, but he didn’t want to break this moment of communication by going to get a glass of water. “I don’t want to. You’ve no idea how much I miss you during the week when you’re not here.”
“Actually miss us?” Jay asked. “Or miss ordering us around?”
“Not like that,” Austin said quickly. “He means—”
“I know.” Liam understood that Jay wanted to know if it was being a Dom that he missed. “I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that was part of it, but it’s not all, not by a long shot. There are things we need to sort out—how to be who we are with each other, in addition to the roles. But if I’ve been derelict in my duty of interacting with you as people as well as subs, I think you’ve both had a difficult time fully embracing your parts. Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” he hastened to add. “It isn’t a failing. In all relationships, there can be a moment when it becomes clear the people involved aren’t well suited. I don’t think that’s the case with us.”
“If we lived on a desert island, yeah, but we don’t. Do you still want us to move in? Really?” Jay was astonishingly good at finding every doubt Liam had and exposing it. “Because I won’t if you’re going to panic about what people will think.”
“You have to admit we can’t tell people the truth. Even before you met me, you didn’t share everything with your families and friends. They know you’re gay, but nothing else.”
“Well, it’s none of their business.” Austin shrugged. “Everyone wants what they do in bed to be between them and their partner.”
“I won’t pretend I’ll ever be comfortable with telling people we’re a threesome and into BDSM. I’m not planning to tell my children you’re my partners, let alone my subs. If you move in, it’ll be as my lodgers to the outside world, but it’s not because I think there’s anything wrong with what we are and what we do. It’s just…”
Raising an eyebrow, Jay said, “Society tells us there’s plenty of stuff wrong with it, and you believe it. At least, part of you does.” Jay sounded completely earnest. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame you. Especially because you’re new to the gay thing. Or bi thing.”
“I’m still attracted to women,” Liam told him. “Or I assume I am. My attention has been focused on you lately. I can’t imagine having time in my life to notice anyone else, to be frank, and before you take that the wrong way, it’s not a complaint.”
Austin touched Liam’s arm, a tentative touch as if he expected Liam to pull away. “Is this really what you want?”
“You two in my life? Living with me? Yes.” Saying it aloud made him want to say it again, louder. “Really. Yes. With the potential risks to all of us, yes.”
“We’re not doing anything illegal,” Jay said.
“You’re being naive if you think that’ll matter to people,” Liam said bluntly. “It won’t. They’ll see me as a pervert preying on younger men and you as my victims. At the very least, we’d be faced with ridicule, endless questions, gossip behind our backs…”
“But you still want to risk it?” Austin asked. “We matter that much? Because you could get your itch scratched plenty of ways, you know. You
don’t need us. Any sub would do.”
“Austin…” Liam felt helpless faced with Austin’s bleakly despairing words. “I do need you. I love you. Both of you. I could walk away, go back to being alone and unfulfilled, but why the hell should I when I’ve been lucky enough to find you? I’m not doing anything wrong, but it would hurt people—my children—if they knew about us, and I won’t do that to them. I’m not sure what you’re saying. Do you want me to come out to them about being with you but keep the rest private? Tell them I’m bi? Tell them everything? Nothing?”
He paused, aware his voice was rising and that he’d just hit them with a barrage of questions without giving them the chance to reply. “Tell me what you both want from me,” he said, moderating the volume of his voice but not the force behind his words. “If I can give it to you, I will, and if I can’t, I’ll say so.”
“I don’t want you to come out to them,” Austin said. “I mean, eventually, sure. I don’t like the thought of anyone being in the closet forever. But not right away. I don’t think that’s a reasonable thing to expect.”
“We aren’t only talking about what’s reasonable; we’re talking about what you want.”
“We want to be with you,” Jay said softly. “We do. And I don’t want to have to worry all the time about accidentally outing you, or us. Because sooner or later I’ll probably let something slip.”
“If you do and it isn’t deliberate, I’ll do my best to be understanding.” The thought of it made Liam’s stomach twist unpleasantly.
“Okay.” Austin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then said, “I want to go through with the move.”
Jay nodded. “We have to try it.”
Liam hesitated.
Were these two his midlife crisis, his red sports car, his young mistress? He didn’t know. They didn’t feel like it. They felt more like a second chance to be what he was. His marriage had sent him walking a different path, and he couldn’t regret that choice entirely, not when it’d given him two children he loved, but he couldn’t deny his needs, and he needed Jay and Austin so desperately.