Sawyer & Boyd Duo: MM age-play romance

by JP Sayle

  I grinned at Billy as he held out a plate to me. “Here you go.”

  I all but snatched his hand off, making him chuckle as he picked up a cloth and started wiping down the large stainless-steel countertop he was stood behind. There were several people scattered about the kitchen laughing and chatting. A warm feeling spread through me as it always did at being a part of this close-knit community.

  I’d missed that feeling when I’d left home and, while my parents hadn’t been keen on me wasting myself waiting on tables, I’d found a niche that fitted me perfectly when I’d started working for Seb and Carl. I loved everything about it. There was an eclectic mix of staff and, whether it was intentional or not, Seb hired mainly gay men to work for him. I’d made friends here and found a way to survive away from my family.

  “You plan on eating that or just staring into space with a sappy grin on your face,” Carl boomed from across the room as he came out of Seb’s office.

  “I was just thinking what a great bunch of people you all are. But I take that back. Some of you are great,” I stressed, grinning up at Carl. Then I jumped back as he came close enough to try and snatch the plate out of my hand. “Hey, that’s mine,” I whined, holding tightly to the plate.

  I got no further when Theo stepped into the kitchen and called my name. I turned around and he pointed behind him. “There’s a dude in a smart suit here to see you.”

  I frowned and tried to recall if I had any plans to meet anyone today. Coming up blank, I stepped towards Theo. “Did he say who he was?”

  His hair flopped over his forehead as he shook his head. “Nah, just asked if you were here and could he speak to you. I’ve left him in the entrance way.”

  Glancing down at the plate I held, I gave a resigned sigh and turned to Billy. “Can you keep that warm for me while I go and find out who wants to see me?”

  His answer was to take the plate from my hand and head to the bank of ovens. He opened one and placed my plate inside. “I’d hurry, otherwise it will dry out.”

  Not needing to be told twice, I darted past a bemused looking Theo and went out into the main restaurant. With no one left in the restaurant, with the exception of the guy stood in the entrance way, I offered him a polite smile. As he stared at me, I tried to remember if we’d ever met before. Not able to recall, I had to work to keep a pleasant smile on my face as I walked towards him. Because, although he was attractive, there was something a little mean in his expression that set my nerves tingling.

  “Hi, I’m Sawyer. Did you want to see me?”

  When the guy's gaze swept over me, followed by a look of distaste, I stepped back. My hands trembled at my sides and my unease continued to grow as he stared at me like a bug under a microscope, saying nothing.

  Feeling more than a little out of sorts by this odd behaviour, I glanced back at the empty restaurant. Before I could shift my gaze back to the man, he’d moved so he was inches from my face. “I don’t know who you think you are moving in on my man, but I’m telling you, you’re messing with the wrong person.” His finger drilled into my chest.

  Shocked by the outburst, I remained rooted to the spot, my hands hanging uselessly at my sides.

  “Get your fucking scrawny, ugly arse out of my home and crawl back to whatever sleazy rock you came out from under. I won’t give you a second warning.”

  I’d hardly had time to process his words when pain exploded in my cheek and my head swung back from the impact of the painful slap to my face. Tears sprung into my eyes, but he was already moving as I stood staring in disbelief at the door as it swung closed behind him.

  “Sawyer, Billy is fret… What the fuck, man?” Theo halted in front of me, his expression aghast. “What happened? Why do you have an angry handprint on your cheek?” Theo demanded as he took hold of my arms gently.

  His face blurred as tears slide down my cheeks and I tried to figure out what the fuck had just happened. “I…I don’t know,” I choked out on a sob.

  His arms instantly went around my back and he pulled me in for a hug. I buried my face in his neck, still trying to process what the hell had happened. Was the guy nutso? I wasn’t living in his house; I was living with…Boyd.

  Fuck, was Boyd a cheater?

  Don’t be daft. Why would he ask you to stay with him if he had a boyfriend?

  Then who was the guy? Was it a case of mistaken identity?

  Maybe?

  With no chance to talk, and he’d never mentioned his boyfriend’s name, it was damn near impossible to figure it all out. It had to be a case of mistaken identity, right?

  Theo guided me into the locker room, and I went into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face, hoping it would help cool down my hot cheek and wash away any evidence of my tears.

  “That’s fucked up, man, if you’ve no clue why the guy hit you. What are you going to do?” Theo’s tone was indignant on my behalf as he paced behind me.

  Looking at him in the mirror's reflection, I managed to smile at him when he paused and glanced at me. “There isn’t much I can do. I don’t know the guy’s name, or what he was on about. I think it’s a case of mistaken identity.” I shrugged, prepared to let it go and chalk it up to some cosmic joke.

  “I’m not so sure about that. He called you by name. If it were random then how would he know where you work?” Theo’s face was thoughtful as I turned around to face him. My hands shook as I felt the water drip off my chin, realising that he was right.

  How did the man know my name and where I work?

  I released a shuddery breath. “Yeah, you’re right. He said I should move out of his boyfriend’s home. I moved in with Boyd last night after he saw the state of my shower,” I all but whispered, almost afraid to voice it aloud and for Theo to confirm my fears.

  His eyes widened. “Wow, you’re a fast worker. But after everything you’ve mentioned about Boyd, I don’t get the vibe he’s a cheater. Do you?”

  I sagged back against the sink. “No, I don’t get that impression either. And just so you know, I’m not that fast. I’m in the spare room. I’m staying while he figures out how to make my shower safe.”

  Theo burst out laughing. “The only thing that would make that safe is if you binned the thing. It’s a fucking disaster waiting to happen. I said that to you when I first came to visit your place last year. I bet it’s still the same patch up job, right?”

  There was humour dancing in his eyes as he continued to chuckle when I waved away his comment. “Stop, it was perfectly fine, and it worked, didn’t it? We’re getting off the subject, what do you think I should do?”

  “Ask Boyd if he has any crazy exes in his cupboard and go from there. If it turns out this guy is one of Boyd’s exes, maybe he can warn the shithead off.” The humour of moments ago was replaced with anger as Theo’s eyes glowed. “I’d like to give the guy a taste of his own medicine. In fact, why didn’t you do some of that fancy jujitsu on his arse?” Theo’s head quirked to the side as he stared at me.

  “I’ve told you before, it isn’t about beating people up. That being said, I’d have stopped him if he hadn’t caught me completely off guard. I was trying to process what he was saying, then wham and he was gone.” I rubbed at my hot cheek and hoped it didn’t leave a bruise. “I’ll be ready the next time, if he comes back.”

  “Are you gonna talk to Boyd about this?”

  “Yeah, I am. He’ll be home around the same time as me. I’ll talk to him then. Let’s hope it’s easy to sort out.” I touched my throbbing cheek and my stomach twisted into several knots recalling the man’s hostile expression.

  A part of me wanted to run and do as the man wanted, but then I recalled Boyd’s beautiful face as he sat patiently listening to me talk about who I was. How could I give that up?

  Chapter Seven

  Boyd

  At the sight of Sawyer’s bike sitting at the bottom of the stairs leading up to my front door, my mood lifted. By the time I’d parked up and was opening the fron
t door, there was a smile stretching across my face.

  “I’m home,” I shouted out, shutting the door behind me. I carried the bakery box and my leather holdall containing a pile of invoices I needed to go through, as I headed towards the scent of food.

  Sawyer had revealed that the food he’d brought the night I’d got stuck at work had been prepared by Lenny and that he couldn’t cook for shit, so as I entered the kitchen I was surprised to see pots on top of the cooker and steam rising with the scent of, if my nose was correct, a herby tomato sauce.

  With Sawyer’s back to me and his hands buried in soap suds, I placed the bakery box on the table. I paused and stared at the table that was set for dinner. The domesticity of it caused my heart to beat erratically as my overactive imagination conjured up what it would be like to come home to Sawyer every night. Stop getting ahead of yourself!

  “I thought you said you couldn’t cook,” I joked, as I walked up to Sawyer. About to lay a kiss on the top of his head, I froze at the sight of his face when he twisted to look at me. “What the fuck happened to your cheek?” The holdall I held fell to the floor, unheeded in my need to check on him.

  It took a second to register the change in his demeanour as he lifted his dripping wet hands out of the water and faced me. His bottom lip quivered, and his eyes filled with tears. “Someone hit me, Daddy,” he cried in anguish.

  His voice sounded somewhat different and something told me his little was fully in charge right now as I wrapped my arms around him. As I struggled to keep myself from trembling at the burning anger riding through me, I made shushing noises. I buried my face in his hair when he hiccupped and sobbed into my chest.

  Only when he quieted did I lift my head and put my hand under his chin, carefully lifting it so I could see his face. At the sight of his red rimmed, puffy eyes, hurt sliced at my heart. “Who did this to you, Angel boy?”

  “A man came to the restaurant,” he explained. Then everything seemed to move in slow motion as he relayed what the guy looked like and what had happened in a small voice that increased my anger. It was all the information I needed to know exactly who had done this to him.

  “—ugly arse out of my home and crawl back to whatever sleazy rock you came out from under. Then he said he wouldn’t give me a second warning. Did…did you date this…person?” His eyes implored me to say no, even as I registered the resignation that was on his face.

  “I wish I could say no, but yes, I did. His name is Glenn. We broke up about a month before I messaged you via The App.” I sucked in a tremulous breath. “He called yesterday wanting to meet and I told him we had nothing to discuss. I bumped into him today when I went into a bakery to buy you a treat for tonight.”

  His gaze moved to the table behind me and though his face was still tear stained and his eyelashes were wet, he gave me a smile that melted my heart. “You bought me a treat?”

  There was such wonder in his voice, my anger instantly drained away and I nodded. “That I did, let’s hope you like what I bought for you.”

  “If it’s a cake, I will, I swear Daddy.” He bounced on his feet for a minute before I led him to the table to show him what I’d bought. Following his lead, I let the topic of Glenn drop for the moment and lifted the lid. He squealed in delight and clapped his hands.

  While he rubbed at his damp cheeks, he glanced at the cooker. When he looked back at me, his expression reminded me of a dog I’d had as a child that begged for treats. I’d been defenceless then and I got the distinct impression I’d be no different now.

  “Can I have one now, please, Daddy?” His head tilted to the side and his face softened as his lower lip poked out. “Pleassssseeee.”

  Oh god, how the hell was I supposed to resist that look? This new dynamic left me floundering for a few seconds as I struggled to fathom what reaction he might expect from me.

  “Did you have something to eat during the day?” I asked, trying to come up with a plausible excuse to make him wait until after dinner.

  His smile disappeared and I cursed when I got the impression he hadn’t, and Glenn was to blame. My suspicions were confirmed when his face morphed into a mutinous scowl.

  “I didn’t Daddy, but that’s not my fault so I should get to eat my cake first,” he whined.

  The need to give in was at odds with how I saw the role of responsible adult, especially after he’d made the effort to cook a meal for us. “Don’t you want Daddy to eat the lovely meal you made for us? What about, we eat a small bowl of the food then have a cake? And if we’re still hungry later, we can have some sweets while we watch a movie?” The second I mentioned I wanted to eat his meal, his face got a dreamy expression that was a whole lot more tempting than his sad, puppy dog eyes.

  “Okay, but a small bowl and you’ll eat fast.” He sucked his lower lip in between his teeth. His eyes got a calculated look in them as he glanced back into the cake box. “We can watch a movie and have the other cake, then we won’t be hungry.” His smile was angelic as he beamed up at me like he’d solved all the problems of the universe.

  I pushed the hair back off his face and gently cupped the unmarked cheek. “That sounds perfect.” I kissed his upturned mouth. “Maybe after I’ve bathed you, you can pick one of your favourite outfits to wear.”

  His gulped and his eyes widened. He looked uncertain for a few seconds, and I wondered if I’d made a wrong step, then he nodded tentatively.

  “I’d like that, Daddy.”

  The meal went without a hitch and, keeping to my word, we had a small bowl each as Sawyer admitted that he’d brought home some leftover sauce from the restaurant. It didn’t matter to me; it was the thought that counted.

  By the time he’d eaten his fruit tart, stating he wanted the chocolate pastry while we watched a film, the air was buzzing with a sexual tension I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  I pushed aside the nastiness of the day to pamper Sawyer. I left him so he could go and pick an outfit to wear while I went to fill the bath in my master suite. Finding several bath bombs I’d been given as a gift from Gloria at Christmas, I dropped one into the water and the room filled with a heavenly scent. It took a second to register that it smelt like fruit salad, and the swirling colours in the water looked the same as the somewhat vintage sweet.

  When Sawyer stepped into the bathroom, a big grin on his face, I couldn’t help but respond.

  “It smells like sweeties in here,” he said as he stopped at the side of the bath, clutching what looked like a pale lemon all-in-one. He hesitated for a moment before offering me the outfit.

  Without overthinking it, I took it and placed it on the heated towel rail behind me. “Let’s place it here, then it will be nice and warm when we get you dressed.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  His shy smile as I turned to face him left me a little breathless. “You’re welcome, Angel boy. Let’s get you underdressed and in the bath.”

  He stood and waited for me to help him. By the time he was naked and in the bath, I realised how much I was enjoying doing these simple tasks for him, especially when he beamed up at me like I’d hung the moon for him.

  As he started to splash and play in the water, it dawned that he might like some toys in the bath with him. Recalling the box of stuff in the room Amelia, my sister, no longer had use for when she stayed with me, I stood up.

  “I’ll be back in a minute.” I ran my hand over his wet hair while he splashed and giggled up at me, appearing happy for me to leave him.

  Leaving the bathroom, I quickly retrieved the box from the back of her wardrobe and lifted the lid. Inside were a collection of dolls, all of which were naked, and their outfits scattered in the box. There were cars I’d had as a child, which the two of us had made a ramp for.

  My sister was so much younger than me that I’d often forget we were siblings. After our mother had died and my father was struggling with his grief, I’d taken on the role of parent, even when she’d rebelled against it. I didn’t remembe
r being difficult as a teenager the way Amelia was, but my father assured me I had been.

  As I continued to root in the box, I noted several things that Sawyer might like to play with and put in his box. I placed them on the bed with the water pistol I found and some squeaky toys that also squirted water.

  “Where are you Daddy?” came Sawyer’s shout from down the hall.

  I collected what I thought he might enjoy in the bath and hoped I wasn’t making a massive mistake. When I walked into the bathroom, there was coloured water on the floor tiles and Sawyer was creating waves that were getting closer to the top of the bath.

  I chuckled at the mess and, ignoring it, I dropped to my knees at the side of the bath, offering him what I held. His eyes lit with delight as he grabbed for the water pistol and examined it closely before dunking it in the water.

  He giggled, and before I could figure out his intention, water hit my chest, soaking my T-shirt. The pistol was dropped back into the bath as I went to stand, my lips twitching. “Did you get Daddy wet?”

  “Nooooo, the pistol did it,” he chortled and fired again.

  Water sprayed my jeans, adding to the wet patches at my knees. I pointed at him. “You’re playing with fire.”

  His response was to grin at me and hit me a third time, this time with a spray of water to my face. I spluttered through my laughter as I wiped at my face. The bathroom was becoming a mess of rainbow colours from the water, but all I saw was the glee on Sawyer’s face detracting from the bruise marring his cheekbone.

  When the anger wanted to surface at what Glenn had done, I pushed it aside, vowing to deal with Glenn later. Instead, I gave Sawyer a wolfish smile and tugged off my wet top and threw in on the floor, tutting at him.

  As my hand went to the button of my jeans, Sawyer got up on his knees and fired another stream of water at me. “Now you’ve done it. Daddy might have to spank you for getting him all wet.”