by R. J. Moray
“So you were being my boss, not my Dom,” Ewan snapped.
Nate hesitated. Had he? “That wasn’t my intention.”
“It’s not your job to make sure I get to work on time,” Ewan said stiffly. “I don’t need you to do that.”
“So what do you want me to do about it? Discipline you through HR? Would you rather explain to them why you don’t think planning meetings are important?”
God, Ewan looked awful. “You can’t just, just flog me for it, either. That won’t work.”
“Because you like being flogged, far too much for that to be any kind of punishment.” Nate knew that. And he knew something else. “But you want that too, don’t you? To break rules and be flogged for it.”
Ewan sighed, sinking into a chair. “Aye. I want that. I need it. It’s like…like a valve. If I can’t, then I’ll explode.”
“I want that too,” Nate told him. “I want the excuse. I want to feel justified.” Because if it’s unjustified, it’s just for me, and I don’t know how that makes me feel.
It seemed impossible to have what he wanted, a willful little firecracker that hissed and spat and broke rules to get his ass beaten but wanted to be Nate’s and was ferociously jealous of his attention. And yet that was what he had. Ewan was, surprisingly, exactly who he’d been looking for, someone to butt heads against and subdue, and then care for in the particular, painful way Nate longed to. But Nate had no experience at this, and he was bound to fuck it up, one way or another.
He settled to his knees on the floor at Ewan’s feet, which got him a very suspicious look, but then he was about to say something that deserved it.
“Listen, I need to tell you something. No, not whatever gave you that bitch-face,” Nate added, unable to hide his smile in the face of Ewan’s furious scowl. “No, it’s…I realized I should tell you that I haven’t done this before.”
Ewan gave him a sarcastic look. “Knelt at someone’s feet?”
“No, I’ve done that. And I’ve spanked people, flogged them, clamped and pinned and cut them, even. I’ve humiliated people past the point where I was comfortable with it. I’ve used them like nothing, like human garbage, like they had negative worth. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“You’ve done things, I get it,” Ewan said, rolling his eyes. “You’re a big bad sadist, and I should be afraid of you.”
“You should. But not, I guess, because of that.” Or at least, not just because of that. “I do want to do terrible things to you.” He watched the way Ewan shivered, and saw the smile he tried to grimace away. “But while I’ve done a lot of things, I haven’t done this. I haven’t had someone in my life like this, not long term. Not someone I’m invested in, someone I want to be better for. Someone to take care of.”
“You don’t have to take care of me,” Ewan protested, his lip sticking out stubbornly.
Nate reached for his hand. “I want to. I need you to help me work out how.”
The moment felt delicate. If Ewan didn’t want this, if he thought Nate weak or ludicrous, or if he was just too bratty in this moment, then something would be broken, and they might not ever be able to fix it.
Ewan twined his fingers with Nate’s, eyeing him solemnly. “I don’t know how to do this either,” he whispered. “You’re not…I forget, sometimes, that you’re not like him.”
They both knew who ‘him’ meant. Gary. The man who had taught Ewan how to be afraid of his Dom, to fear being abandoned, and to hate himself for all the things he thought made him dirty or broken or unwanted. The man who'd wounded him so badly it had taken all his strength to build himself back into the stubborn little hellcat he was now.
Nate hated Gary like he’d rarely hated anyone, but it gave him a twinge of guilt to realize that many of Ewan’s tender places had been caused by Gary—the wounds Nate loved to poke his fingers into and mess around with, all the sharp edges on which Nate could cut himself, they were the aftermath of a man Nate wished in the ground. Without them, would Nate and Ewan even fit together? And with that revelation, was it ethical for Nate to enjoy them, and to want to file back the parts of Ewan that seemed too ragged, too messy, that hurt Ewan too much?
How was he any better than Gary?
You’re not like him, Ewan had said. Nate could only hope that was true. “Tell me what kind of Dom you want me to be,” he said.
Ewan made a hurt noise. “I don’t know.”
“Then maybe you should think about it for a bit.”
The fingers wrapped in Nate’s hand clenched hard. “What, like…like a break, or something?” Ewan’s voice spiraled up, high and tight. Nate squeezed his hand, trying to soothe him with his thumb.
“Nothing like that. Just think about it. And tell me what you want, or even what you think you want, or what you think you don’t want. I think,” he added gently, “that we need to get better at communication. I’m not a mind reader.”
Ewan frowned. “I don’t expect you to read my mind,” he said quietly. “I know you can’t.”
“Well, I don’t expect you to give me a dissertation on your likes and dislikes. But we need to know some things, so we’re both okay with what happens when I try to read your mind.”
Ewan hunched his shoulders. He looked ill. “You’re good at it. But then my mind changes, and it’s…it’s not your fault.”
“We could avoid some of that, though, by talking.” Nate leaned into Ewan’s space, cupping his elbow in one palm. “Hey. Let’s make some new rules together, okay?”
“I don’t like it when you won’t let me come,” Ewan snapped, but it sounded forced, like he felt he should show some spirit. “And I don’t want you controlling my life.”
“I can’t sit back and watch you fuck it up, though,” Nate said. “You have to let me help you sometimes.”
“Fine. But only some things. Not everything.”
“Okay. We’ll talk about it, and I won’t get in your face about things we don’t agree are my business.”
Ewan gave him a savage look. “I want rules I can break,” he said quickly, as if afraid of losing his nerve. “But, like, with consequences.”
“Like what I did to you after you jerked off when I told you not to?”
“Aye,” Ewan said, glancing down. There were spots of color in his cheeks, like he was remembering it all, and Nate sighed, thinking of how beautiful Ewan was when he let Nate hurt him like that. Hard work, but so, so worth it.
“We can make some arbitrary rules for you to break. And you’ll regret it, every time, but I won’t ever be angry with you. Not for real. Some rules, though, I will be angry if you break. Like, if you behave like a brat when I’ve told you I want you to be good.”
There was a flicker of indecisive agony on Ewan’s face. “You mean like the tea party?”
“No, that was great,” Nate lifted Ewan’s hand to brush a kiss across his knuckles. “I said you could. You had permission. But Mr White’s dinner party is different. If you want to come with me to that, then I’m going to need your word you won’t decide to throw a tray of drinks in someone’s face or ignore me when I tell you to do something.”
“I don’t even want to go to that fucking party,” Ewan muttered, glaring at nothing.
“I know. You don’t have to. If you don’t, though, fair warning—Mr White provides slaves for anyone who doesn’t bring their own.”
That got his attention. “Fucking what?”
“He likes things a certain way.” Nate stroked Ewan’s cheek. “So it’s up to you, really, if you want to go or not. And if you want me to go without you.”
Ewan made a high-pitched sound and buried his face in Nate’s chest. It was easy to wrap an arm around him and tug him in, smooth fingers through his hair and hold on as he whined into Nate’s sweater.
“I’d like it if you came,” Nate told him. Ewan grumbled noisily, and Nate grinned into his hair. “I’d like it better if you were there than if I were paired up with some stranger I don’t care
about. And I’d like it if you behaved. But I know that’s hard for you, and the whole thing will be pretty boring.”
“Super fucking boring,” Ewan mumbled.
“Super,” Nate agreed. He tucked his chin over Ewan’s shoulder, stroking his back. “But if you do it, then I think you’ll find it worth your while.”
Ewan rumbled, twisting around to pout at him. “Worth my while, how?”
His pinched, suspicious face made Nate want to kiss him, so he did. Just light, a peck, but it made Ewan sigh and lean against him, and that was what he wanted.
“I think,” he said, feeling confident in a way he’d begun to doubt, “it’s time we talked about rewards.”
Chapter 8
Ewan wasn’t a stranger to the concept of rewards. Gary had handed them out at seemingly random intervals; one moment he’d be ignoring Ewan, the next he’d turn around and give him some expensive, unwanted gift. And then Ewan had to be appropriately grateful for it, or something bad would happen.
Looking back now, it seemed obvious that Gary had been awful. Ewan had tried to lock all thought of it away, so he did that now, pushing the memories aside. He couldn’t rid himself of the concepts, though. He knew what rewards meant.
But when he tried to explain that he got it, Nate looked at him funny.
“That’s not what I meant. I want to give you a reason to want to do things. So, instead of saying ‘You’d better not be late to work this week,’ I could say, ‘If you make it to work on time every day this week, you’ll get something nice.’”
It still sounded dodgy. “Like…a Rolex?”
Nate laughed. “Baby, you need the suit first, or the Rolex will just look stolen.” He caught Ewan’s chin and tipped it up. “But sure, if that’s what you want. I would love to dress you up. I didn’t think that was the kind of thing you were into.”
“It makes me feel like a rent boy,” Ewan said, his skin crawling. “I don’t want things.” Not for sex. Not for play. And definitely not for his silent obedience.
Nate examined him, eyes narrowing. “Okay. Not things. Which is good, because I was thinking you’d prefer your rewards to be kinky.”
That sounded better. “Maybe.”
“I want you to think of some things you’d like. Three things you want, that would motivate you to be very, very good at Mr White’s.”
That fucking party. Ewan found the idea of it tedious, but the thought of someone else kneeling at Nate’s feet and serving his food was utterly repulsive. Someone like, like Channon, maybe. Angelic Channon with his perfect face. Ewan grit his teeth but swallowed the nasty words that wanted to claw their way out of him.
“Who’s to say I won’t pick something you hate? Like…maybe I get to cuff you to a cross and go to town with a strap.”
Nate chuckled and flicked the back of a nail hard against Ewan’s throat in a sharp sting. “I’d be an idiot if I agreed to that. And you’d hate it, anyway.”
It was true. Ewan didn’t want it, and Nate knew that. Thinking of things he did want, though, that was difficult. The things he wanted were sometimes nebulous and sometimes too concrete to look at directly for too long.
“You don’t have to answer now,” Nate said, stroking the back of Ewan’s neck. “Think about it while we eat.”
They ordered Thai and ate it on the sofa. Nate put on Parks and Rec. The familiarity was comforting, lulling him into a food-and-comedy stupor. He’d almost forgotten what Nate had told him to do, when Nate gathered the empty food containers and said, “So, any thoughts on rewards?”
“I’ll do it,” Ewan said quickly. He took the containers into the kitchen and dealt with them, his mind racing. What could he ask for? He made tea while he was there, stalling for time, but when he finally slunk back into the living room, he could tell by the amusement on Nate’s face that he’d been caught out.
“I have another question for you,” Nate said, accepting his tea with a smile. “What rules don’t you want? Like, you said you didn’t want me controlling your orgasms.”
“No,” Ewan said firmly.
“But you said ‘yes’ to orgasm denial.”
“Uh, yeah. In a scene. Like, you can put a cage on me or, or whatever,” Ewan said, squirming on the sofa with discomfort. “Or like, edging. Ruining them. That stuff.”
“Just not outside of a scene,” Nate said. He nodded. “What if I offered you a reward if you held off on coming for a week?”
Ewan breathed out, watching the steam of the tea swirl and vanish off his cup. “Sure.”
“I sort of did,” Nate said softly. “The first time. At the tea party? It was just that the reward came before the rule.”
It had sort of been like that, Ewan supposed. “I didn’t like that.”
Nate seemed to consider this. “I should have checked in. I’m sorry.”
Nate’s apologies made Ewan uncomfortable. It was better when he was being a tyrant. “S’alright.”
“What else?”
God, this was hard. “I don’t want you, y’know. Banning me from seeing people.”
“Who would I ban you from seeing?” Nate sounded skeptical.
“I dunno. Someone you don’t like.”
“That’s either a really long or a really short list. But sure, I won’t. That’s totally fair. Anything else?”
Ewan wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want you messing with what I eat.”
“I mean, if I’m buying you food, you have to have a vegetable,” Nate said, grinning. “But you mean when we’re not together.”
“Aye. You can’t control that. I won’t do it.”
“Fair. Okay.”
Nate sipped his tea, looking thoughtful and handsome and kind, and Ewan felt a pang at how unlikely it was that he could have this. To have Nate, negotiating this with him. He hated negotiation, but that Nate would take the time to do this, because he wanted this to work…that meant something. Ewan wanted it to, anyway. He wanted it. Nate. The whole thing.
“So, I was thinking of a rule you could break,” Nate said, a smile in the corner of his mouth, “for when you want things to get nasty.” It sent a shiver down Ewan’s spine, and Nate must have seen it because his smile widened. “I know you love calling me an asshole, and you get really bitey when you’re mad. So here’s the thing. I’m going to make a list of things you’re not allowed to call me unless you want things to get significantly worse for you. And if you bite me, I will hurt you. But I won’t just hurt you. I’ll think of something you’ll regret.” He licked his lips, obviously enjoying the way Ewan squirmed under his attention. “I don’t really care what you call me. I care that you think you can get away with it. And I have a pretty high pain tolerance, so if you bite me, or hit me, or kick me, then it’s not that big a deal for me. Except I think it means you don’t respect me, and I’m pretty sure that’s unhealthy for you.”
Oh God. This was the ‘I’m disappointed in you’ speech, wasn’t it? Ewan felt his gut shrivel. He clutched his cup in both hands, trying not to let on that it hurt when Nate said things like that.
And then Nate didn’t. “I know you need to lash out. I know you want to be made to submit to me. And I want to make you. So I need you to know—these behaviors are off limits most of the time. If you bite me for no good reason, I might gag you and put you in the pillory, and then just play with my phone instead of you. But this is a rule you can break. I’ll do my best to make sure you regret it if you do, but I won’t be angry with you. Unless you do it when I’ve told you to be good,” Nate added, with a dismissive gesture. “Like, you know. High protocol.”
It was an incredible offer, and kind of what they had been doing already. But Ewan was intensely relieved to hear it out loud. Now he knew Nate wouldn’t be mad at him, wouldn’t ditch him for being, essentially, a bratty little masochist who wanted to be flogged raw.
Nate knew what he was and seemed not to mind. Ewan swallowed the lump in his throat. “Okay. So. When we’re doing high protocol,” hatefu
l as it was, “what do you want me to call you?”
“What do you want to call me when you’re feeling subby?” Nate said, his neutrality so careful that Ewan could tell it was an act.
“Sir,” Ewan said, because it was the only answer he had.
“That’ll do.”
He gnawed his lip, wondering if it was a good idea to ask this. “What about a rule I can break when we’re not playing?”
“I’ll think of something,” Nate said. “Finished your tea?” It turned out that he had. Nate held out a hand. “Come over here.”
Ewan went, and was tugged into Nate’s lap. The warmth of Nate’s body was welcome, the pressure of his hands familiar and comforting. He smelled good. Ewan leaned into him, helpless.
“Hey. You had a rough day today. Do you wanna let this go for now?” Nate asked, and Ewan felt his chest swell with relief.
He nodded, and let himself be folded in Nate’s arms, where it was safe. It shouldn’t have been. Nate was dangerous, but not in the way he thought. Nate was dangerous because Ewan could fall in love with him. What a disaster that would be, and so, so tempting.
“Want me to take your mind off things?” Nate asked gently. Ewan nodded again, and Nate rubbed his back. “Okay. So. You were late to work this morning. Tell me why.”
It was simple. Nate asked him for his sins and his sob stories and judged him accordingly. Everything that was unfair, Nate sympathized with. “Poor baby,” he said, kissing Ewan’s cheek, or nuzzling his hair. But the things Ewan could have avoided were tallied with a sigh. “That’s one,” he said.
They ended up with a tally of four errors, fewer than Ewan had expected. Nate smiled and told him to strip down to undershirt and boxers. Ewan did it, and then he lay down over Nate’s lap while Nate chastised him. It was light, more a scolding than anything else, but it was all Ewan could take right now, and he felt his throat close at the thought of how idiotic he’d been today. Nate warmed him up and gave him four hard smacks through his shorts. Again, not a lot, but he wasn’t finished. The next smack was harder.
“That’s one, baby boy.”