The Things We Hide at Home

by Nem Rowan

  There was a pause; if we were talking face to face, she probably would have used it to give me a hug, but we were miles apart.

  “Look, umm, if this guy stalking you found you through some of the clubs we’ve been to, maybe you should stay away from them for a while. It’d be safer if you did.”

  “Yeah, I guess so…” I sighed, knowing she was right. I couldn’t help being disappointed, though. Going into town was something I enjoyed. “I mean, I am worried that it might get worse, so maybe it’s better if I stay home for a while. It’s possible he found me through the Internet, though, but there’s no way of really knowing.”

  “Maybe you should get off the Net, too?” she commented, sounding as if she knew well enough that I wouldn’t want to.

  “Yeah, maybe I should, but then I’d be pretty isolated. I don’t really want to isolate myself over something that’ll probably go away after a while. Anyway, I better go, it’s nearly twelve.”

  “You off somewhere?”

  “Nope, David’s coming over.” I speared the last bits of pasta on my fork.

  “David? That weird guy from the club?” she assumed, causing me to huff. “What? I’m just surprised you’re seeing him. He was so shy, I’m amazed you even managed to get him to sit with us. What’s he like?”

  “He’s very quiet and awkward, but he seems nice. I want to get to know him better. I think he thinks no one will be interested in him because he didn’t turn up to the club in full rubber or something.” I made a muffled laugh as I spoke with my mouth full. “Thanks, by the way, for not automatically calling him a creeper the way Growler did. Like, I get that he said it because he’s worried for me, but you haven’t had a chance to speak to David and it’s kind of unfair to judge him by his looks alone.”

  “No, you’re right about that.” Her tone made me believe she felt guilty for what she’d said about him before.

  “I am right sometimes.”

  She laughed. “Alright, don’t get too smug. I gotta go now, anyway. Willy’s made me lunch and I’ve got a client coming over in about half an hour. Text me, okay?”

  I smiled. “Okay. Have fun. See you soon.”

  “Bye, Tenny.”

  I locked my phone, then put it beside me on the sofa.

  Shortly after I’d finished eating, the doorbell rang and I jumped to my feet, shedding the television remote and one of the sofa cushions to the floor, so I had to quickly pick them up before I hurried into the hallway. I pulled open the door to the rain, which fell in a merciless shower over the roofs of the passing cars and the shimmering surface of the street. David was standing outside, dressed in the raincoat I had seen him wear before, his hood pulled up and large droplets dripping from his coat lapels. His breath plumed in the chilly air.

  “Hello! You’d better come in. I bet you’re soaked,” I jested as I moved aside and allowed him to step onto the doormat just inside.

  “Thanks. I’m rather damp,” he answered in his usual murmur.

  “Do you need some dry clothes?” I asked, shutting the door behind him. He was already unzipping his coat with his jumper sleeves pulled over his hands, and I felt wet patches sinking into my socks as the water puddled on the floor ‘round his trainers.

  “Thank you, but I think I’m alright.” He peered at himself as he opened his coat and began to slip it down his arms. Underneath, he wore a red hooded jumper and a pair of black jeans, quite different to what I’d imagined he might have worn. Fortunately, there was only a slight damp area around his throat where the rain had got in through the hood of his coat.

  “Here, I’ll hang your coat in the bathroom,” I offered, waiting until he had kicked off his trainers before he handed me the drenched item of clothing. “Follow me and we’ll go make some tea in the kitchen.”

  “Okay.” He took off his glasses and started to rub them dry with the soft fabric of his hoodie as I began to ascend the staircase, then he joined behind me.

  I pointed to the kitchen doorway and he went to wait for me there. In the bathroom, I hung his coat over the shower rail so the water could drip into the bath, and when I returned to the kitchen, David was sitting at the table.

  “Your house is interesting,” he told me, watching me put on the kettle.

  “Thanks, I’m really lucky to be able to live here. It’s because of my friend Vanessa—her older sister is a landlord and she owns quite a few properties, so she rented this one to me at a discounted rate.” I glanced at him over my shoulder, then took cups out of the cupboard. “Otherwise I’d probably be living in a small flat on the wages I earn. I was thinking of downsizing, though.”

  He tilted his head. “How come?”

  “I guess I get a bit lonely in a three-storey house when I’m the only one living here. If I had a small apartment, then it wouldn’t be so lonely, but I suppose I’d have to get rid of a lot of my furniture.”

  He nodded in agreement. “I know what you mean. I find it hard to get rid of things sometimes. It seems a waste to throw things out, though. I get attached to my belongings.”

  “Me, too.” I grinned, leaning against the counter. “I’ve still got a box of novelty erasers I was given when I was a kid. I’ve never used them but I just can’t bring myself to get rid of them.”

  He simply nodded again and looked at his sock-clad feet. Once the kettle had boiled, I made two cups of tea and brought them to the table. He watched as I placed his cup in front of him, glancing at me with a smile of thanks. I turned my own cup so the handle was in easy reach, though it was too hot for me to drink yet.

  “Listen, David, there was something I wanted to ask you and I don’t wanna offend you. I know we talked about me being trans before, but me being comfortable being trans doesn’t necessarily mean that you’d be comfortable about your own body, so…” The more the words came out of my mouth, the more of a hole I felt I was digging myself into.

  “You want to know about my hands?” he assumed before I was able to ask the question.

  “Well…yeah. Without putting it too bluntly.” I felt myself blushing and I bit my bottom lip in embarrassment. “I guess there wasn’t any good way for me to go around bringing it up. I didn’t wanna point it out before because I didn’t want to be rude.”

  “That’s okay. I’m not offended,” he murmured, looking at his hands as he carefully pulled back his sleeves. “I don’t mind if you see them. You seem like you wouldn’t judge me so I don’t feel so uncomfortable about that.”

  “I’m glad.” I smiled. His words reassured me and I silently promised I wouldn’t let him down.

  “I was born with ectrodactyly, so…my hands have always been like this. I get problems with my teeth, and my feet have clefts in them, too. I got bullied at school because of the way my hands look and…I’m just embarrassed about people seeing them because they stare. They act like it’s contagious and they might get a disease if they come near me,” He clasped his hands together. “It’s always been really hard for me to make friends, even when people are kind to me. I always want to hide my hands. Please don’t take it personally.”

  “I didn’t take it personally, not at all,” I gently told him. It was interesting to hear him speaking so much after the brief and monosyllabic responses I had received before when we were face-to-face. He also seemed to open up a bit more when we talked on the phone.

  Unable to hold myself back, I cautiously placed my hand atop his. His eyes widened yet he couldn’t bring himself to look at me. His hands were so soft and warm, and I could feel the strength in them. It didn’t matter that parts of them were missing. There was something special about touching another person’s hands, something that made me feel we were connecting. That something that makes two men flinch sheepishly when their hands accidentally touch while walking. That something that happens when you grasp hands with someone who cares about you and you feel their power and their resolution flow into you, giving you confident determination. David, although shy, allowed me to take one of his hands i
n mine and he looked on as I turned it, my fingertips caringly touching the shapes of his bones, the thick knuckles, and raised veins. The knots of muscle in them were as thick as my own.

  “I like your hands. They’re different and they’re so masculine.” I smiled at him. “I like that.”

  “You’re the first person who’s ever said such a thing,” he replied, and though I thought I saw a flash of doubt in his eyes, he smiled back at me.

  “I don’t believe you.” I started to grin as I gave his hands a squeeze.

  “It’s true.” He became coy, and I couldn’t tell if I was making him embarrassed or not. I thought I saw misery in his eyes and I came to the realisation that there was so much more hidden inside him than I had first thought. His shy behaviour hid something else. Though he had the appearance of an older man, with grey in his hair and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the helplessness I felt from him made him seem as fragile and needy as a lost puppy.

  “I like the way the rest of you looks, too,” I whispered before making a slightly timid grin.

  “Thanks…I like the way you look as well. That’s why I wanted to speak to you the first time. I’ve seen you lots of times on the Internet and at the club, but I’ve never been brave enough to get as near as I did that night.” He looked at our hands, unable to look at me.

  “We could have been friends much sooner if you’d been brave much sooner.” I continued to smile at him as I teased playfully.

  “I know. I wish I had, sooner.”

  I decided to take the plunge. I had been thinking about it a lot for the last couple of days, whether he would let me close enough to give him a kiss, whether it would end up wrecking what we had so far. It was now or never, though. I couldn’t wait.

  Without procrastinating any longer by double-checking or questioning myself, I leaned towards him, my eyes instinctively half-closing so he couldn’t make eye contact with me—not that I thought he would—and when I felt his breath on my face, my whole body began to tingle with goosebumps. I felt a little tremble in his hands and I knew he was nervous. He had gone suddenly very still and very quiet, but he didn’t pull away from me. Why was this so intense? I had kissed lots of people before and never had I felt that it was anything more than just that, a kiss, a precursor to something sexual. I could feel my heart starting to thump; I just had to close the gap, just a couple more centimetres. David’s head turned slightly and I thought he was going to back off, but no, it turned to meet mine. He smelled warm, familiar in a way, and the icy musk of his deodorant excited me. It was a scent I associated with my own masculinity; were we wearing the same brand? No, Tenny—this is not the time for dumb thoughts.

  When our lips touched, I felt his hands pull slightly, but I squeezed them, afraid he was going to push me away. If he wanted to stop, all he had to do was turn his head. No, no, I was being paranoid. Misreading his signs. He was kissing me back, pushing towards me. I tested the waters a little by loosening my grip, and what happened next astonished me. Within seconds, he slipped his hands free of mine and a gasp escaped my lips as he threw his arms around my neck, grabbing me in a bear hug so he could kiss me forcefully. Reeling from what had just happened, it took me a moment to understand what on Earth was going on. I felt David’s body pressing against my own, quaking beneath his clothes, yet the heat of him permeated through them, his warmth inviting like the heat from a small rabbit or guinea pig. The way he kissed was clumsy and made me believe he’d never kissed someone before. Maybe he hadn’t. I tried to slow him down but he was like a hysterical dog that had just been greeted by its owner after a long day alone in the house. Eventually, he seemed to come to and he sank back onto his chair, his arms slowly releasing me. His face was bright red and he was breathing heavily like he’d just run a marathon.

  I smiled at him, but the look on his face made me think he was going to cry. I startled when he suddenly got up.

  “I-I need to use the bathroom,” he stammered before rushing out of the kitchen, leaving me sitting there completely bewildered.

  Well, that was interesting.

  I sighed as I took a large sip from my teacup. It was still hot and it burned my tongue, so I swallowed quickly. That was the strangest kiss I’d ever had, stranger than when one of my ex-boyfriends accidentally threw up on my shirt mid-kiss because he was drunk. What was strange about it was hard for me to pinpoint. I knew I could be getting myself into deep waters now; he was needy, might end up being clingy, and there was a lot more to him that I needed to learn. I couldn’t help liking him, though. I knew that by some people’s standards I was pretty bizarre, so who was I to judge? Maybe all David needed was someone to show him affection, make him feel loved, and I trusted myself not to hurt his feelings, so perhaps I was the best man for the job. He quite clearly liked me already.

  A few minutes passed before David returned, his face still red but his eyes were red, too, and I wondered what he’d been up to in the bathroom. Demurely, he seated himself beside me and took up his teacup, this time without pulling down his sleeves. He grasped the handle with his two fingers and thumb and lifted it to his face.

  “Okay?” I asked after a brief pause.

  “I-I’m okay. Thanks,” he mumbled into his drink, but when he looked at me, he started to grin. It was the first time I’d seen him make such an expression and I was unable to stop myself from imitating it.

  I cleared my throat but I wasn’t sure what to say, and it was another minute or so before I was able to speak again. “So…are you gonna be confident around me from now on?” I inquired, referring back to the previous conversation we’d had on ChainLink.

  “I can try, but I’m not a very confident person by nature.”

  “Well, I like your shyness. I think it’s cute,” I said, lowering my voice. “I still think it was cute how you waited for me to come to you at the club.”

  “Oh…really? That didn’t annoy you?”

  “No. Pushy assholes annoy me. I’ve had people bug me in the past. But you seem very polite and I think politeness is important.” I gazed at the surface of the tea in my cup. “Anyway, I was wondering, and I know this is probably a bit forward, but if you hadn’t already guessed, I just love to ask uncomfortable questions…”

  He chuckled and I made a tentative laugh, too.

  “I was wondering whether you were interested in having a, y’know, Dom-sub relationship with me?” I managed to get out the words before I swallowed them. When he didn’t immediately answer, I knew the verbal diarrhoea was coming and I continued. “Like I said, I know we don’t know each other that well, but we can get to know each other. I’m looking for a partner right now, and you said you were, too, so why not give it a try?”

  “Really?” He gazed at me in amazement.

  “Yeah, what do you think?”

  “I don’t have a lot of experience…” He waited for me to change my mind, but I didn’t.

  “That doesn’t matter. We’ll just give it a try and see where it goes. It doesn’t even have to be sexual to start with…”

  I could see in his eyes that the latter part of my sentence disappointed him. It was funny, for someone who didn’t talk too much, how expressive his eyes were. They kept giving away what he was thinking as if they tried to do the talking his mouth wouldn’t.

  “Let’s just see where it goes,” I added quickly.

  He nodded in agreement, his smile soon returning.

  “We can spend today as friends. Next time you visit, I’ll have some rules for you to abide by. I’ll outline what I expect from you, and you can outline what you expect from me. We’ll make it special.”

  “C-can I…can I call you Master now?” he hesitated to ask, his eyes opening wide with anticipation.

  “Well, I haven’t made you mine yet.” I smiled amusedly, which caused him to go shy again.

  His smile faded. “Oh…I understand…”

  “Alright, you can do so, on the condition that you’re not calling somebody else Master
at the moment.” I stroked the stubble on his cheek.

  He glanced up at me through his eyelashes. “There isn’t anyone else. Honest. I’ve waited a long time to be able to speak to you and I wouldn’t want to ruin it like that.” His throat contracted as he swallowed deeply.

  “I believe you, David. Besides, I prefer to be called Sir. Master sounds so old-fashioned.”

  “Oh, of course, Sir.” He nodded quickly, and despite his sheepish demeanour, he was smiling with excitement.

  * * * *

  After our slightly embarrassing moment in the kitchen, David relaxed considerably and so did I. We went to sit in the living room for a while as it was more comfortable, and I was surprised when I looked out the window and discovered it had stopped raining.

  “Would you like to go out somewhere for lunch?” I asked as I peered out at the brightening weather.

  “Oh…I h—haven’t got any money on me.” He glanced at me over his shoulder as he sipped from his cup of tea.

  “That’s alright, it’ll be a treat. Come on, it’ll be fun,” I urged, grinning as I clambered over the back of the sofa and dropped beside him.

  “I thought you said you ate earlier?” He seemed confused, but I smiled at him encouragingly.

  “I got a big appetite. Everyone’s always telling me I eat too much but that doesn’t stop my belly from rumbling.” I laughed. “Come on, what’s your favourite café or restaurant?”

  He lowered his cup and stared thoughtfully at the floor. “I haven’t really got one.”

  “Have you been to the café in Arnos Vale?”

  “I didn’t think they’d have a café in a cemetery. I thought cemeteries were for dead people,” he reasoned, seeming even more baffled.

  “They serve really good toasted sandwiches. Anyway, we should seize this chance to go for a stroll before it rains again, and it’s only down the road. We can have a cup of tea to go and take a walk around. It’s a beautiful place.” I smiled as I rested my chin in my hand. “What do you say?”

  “Alright, then.” He put his cup on the coffee table. “I could do with the exercise, anyway.”