Counterpoint

by Anna Zabo

  “Me, too.” Because that moment had changed Adrian’s life. He didn’t know exactly where he was headed, but he was excited to find out.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dom’s body ached as he climbed the steps up to Adrian’s master bathroom. He took off his shirt and bowtie before washing and drying his face. What he really wanted was a nice long shower that he could hide in, cry in, and come out feeling drenched and purified.

  But he’d asked Adrian not to cancel the reservation, and honestly, he didn’t know if a shower would even help at this point. Parts of him were flayed, cut open wide by his own actions. He shoved the desire to dwell, to replay the whole set of events over and over, to grasp onto the hurt he’d seen in Adrian and roll in that forever.

  He leaned his palms against the edge of the marble countertop. Fucking hard not to. When he examined himself in the mirror, his eyes were still red. “You’re such a fuckup,” he whispered at himself. “You’re not really good at anything, are you? Not music, not love.”

  “Babe.” A soft reply from the doorway.

  Dom dropped his head and groaned. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” No one was. He only ever took himself down in private.

  Adrian huffed. “Would you come here, please?” He stood just outside the doorway of the bathroom, before turning to retreat to the bed.

  Despite the hollowness in his gut—or maybe because of it—Dom went out to see what Adrian was doing. By the bench that sometimes lived at the foot of the bed, Adrian turned, met Dom’s gaze and—sat.

  Just sat down. On the bench. As if he was waiting for something.

  Dom was halfway across the room before he realized it, and by Adrian’s side when it occurred to him what Adrian was offering and what he—Dom—was doing. What he needed. He fell to his knees, and pressed his head against Adrian’s thigh.

  Felt right. Even more so when Adrian stroked fingers through his hair. Dom wrapped his arms around Adrian and held on, finding that center in Adrian’s calm, and remembering where it was in himself.

  He didn’t know how long they sat like that, with Adrian stroking his hair, only that it was Adrian who spoke first.

  “Dominic,” he said in that voice that made Dom both melt and tremble. “I’d like you to listen to me now, because this is important.”

  Dom raised his head and met Adrian’s warm, strong, gaze. The one that commanded. “Okay.”

  Adrian brushed fingers over his jaw. “Usually, when I demand something of you, it’s for a moment, or a short time. During sex or bondage, or times like now.”

  Dom nodded. “Not full-time domination.”

  “Or submission,” Adrian said. “Not your thing. Not mine, either.”

  “There’s a ‘but’ coming, isn’t there?”

  “I’m going to demand something of you for long-term, open-ended, a command that I would like you to follow.”

  A hard edge to Adrian’s words, to the way his fingers moved, too. He wasn’t joking. This was real. “What?”

  “Don’t ever say anything like that to yourself ever again.” A hint of outrage slipped into Adrian’s smooth voice, making it crackle. “Don’t undermine yourself like that.”

  For a moment, Dom couldn’t breathe. Parts of him rejoiced, other parts yelled, and those fucking tears were back in his eyes.

  Adrian’s gaze softened, and he took Dom’s face in his hands, his palms warm. “And yes, I know what I’m asking of you is hard. But yes, you can do it.”

  “But what if I can’t?”

  Adrian stroked his thumbs along Dom’s cheeks. “You’re strong and you have a heart of fire. You can.”

  Yeah, he didn’t think that was true. Besides, the voice wasn’t always wrong.

  Except it kinda was wrong most of the time. Maybe all of it. Shit.

  “How would you even know?”

  This time, Adrian’s smile was sly. “Because you’ll tell me. And every time you do, I’m going to be compelled to prove that nasty little voice in your head is a fucking liar.”

  “I—Can you prove it to me, even if I don’t beat myself up?”

  A laugh. “I intend to do that, too.” Adrian leaned down and took Dom’s mouth into a kiss that was like air and light. Dom let himself be carried up and into Adrian’s arm, into his lap, until they were tangled into each other.

  When they broke the kiss, Adrian threaded his hands into Dom’s hair. “I can’t abide anyone breaking you down, not even you.”

  “You’re not my therapist.”

  A small smile. “No. I’m your lover and your boyfriend, and sometimes the person who puts you on your knees and ties you up.”

  All of that sounded good. So good. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.” Because it would be nice to ignore that shitty little voice for a while. “And I should see about actually getting a therapist, ’cause this is on me, not you.”

  Adrian touched his forehead to Dom’s and stroked his cheeks. “Agreed.”

  “Should we finish getting dressed? Or cancel dinner?” Just as Dom asked the question, his stomach growled.

  “There’s your answer.” Adrian nudged Dom off his lap.

  Yeah, now that he was calmer and more collected, hunger burned through him.

  He finished cleaning up and put his shirt and bowtie back on while Adrian donned a tie and jacket that matched his pants. He looked crisp and finished, even with his hair slightly disheveled.

  “Hey,” Dom called, then beckoned Adrian over. A quick brush of Dom’s fingers set Adrian’s hair right. “There.”

  That got him a hand behind the neck and a sweet, slow kiss. Then Adrian straightened his bowtie. “I like the shoes,” he murmured.

  Dom shook his head. “Now you notice them.”

  They were both smiling when they left the house, hopped in the Uber Adrian had called, and headed to a nice place up by Columbia University.

  “Hipster central,” Dom said.

  “Says the hipster.” Adrian took his hand and tugged him into the restaurant.

  The place? Nice. Really nice. If he weren’t actually secretly a rock star, it would have been way-out-of-his-budget nice. “Um, this is...” He looked around as they were led into the dining room. “May I pay for this one, Adrian?”

  “No.” A very final answer, but delivered with a smile. “One nice benefit of my well enough job is that it pays far more than its enjoyment factor. And with no rent or mortgage...” Adrian shrugged.

  Fuck. How many people would love to be that lucky? “Wow, okay.” Dom paused. “You really don’t like your job?”

  Adrian gave a sigh, then looked up. “Hold that thought.”

  Next thing Dom knew, a server materialized at their table. She took their drink orders. Well, order—Adrian asked for a bottle of wine Dom knew better than to check the price of. Part of him still cringed at how much things cost. But another part liked that he could afford them. The third part gave quite a bit to LGBT charities because he could and he fucking well ought to support the community. He’d always feel a little weird about the wealth, he was pretty sure.

  After the server left, Adrian tapped at his menu. “We should order, then we can talk.”

  Which could either be a diversion tactic, or a legitimate suggestion. Given his own exhaustion and emotional frailty, Dom leaned toward the latter, especially since he didn’t have the energy to poke secrets from Adrian. And he didn’t have the ground to stand on to do it, either.

  But once the wine came and their food orders were taken, Adrian folded his hands in front of him on the table. “I don’t hate my job,” he said. “It pays quite well and it’s a damn sight more stable than the ones I had out in California.”

  Dom considered that, picking up his wine and sipping. For a moment, he was lost in the complex tastes on his tongue, and he closed his eyes. “Fuck, this is a good bottle o
f wine.”

  Adrian chuckled. “Well, it better be, considering.”

  Yeah, the price had been high, then. Dom flicked his eyes open to see Adrian’s cocky smile. He, however, still hadn’t touched his glass, aside from when the server had offered a taste. Dom set his own glass down. “Not hating something isn’t the same as liking something.”

  “No.” Adrian’s voice was dusty. He sat back, humor fading, and grabbed his wineglass. “It’s not. But not liking a job isn’t always a good reason to quit it.” He finally drank.

  “But what keeps you there?” Because everything about the way Adrian held himself said he was unhappy, and Dom was pretty sure that this wasn’t about him. They’d already had their—fight? Spat? Whatever.

  Another sip, then a sigh. “Right at the moment? Not much, to be honest. This week’s been hell. My best friend’s probably quitting, and I’ve been given a project that’s been royally screwed up by an asshole who somehow keeps getting promoted.”

  “Um, Adrian? That kinda sounds a lot like hating your job.”

  His laugh was dark. “Maybe.” He met Dom’s gaze across the table. “It’s been on my mind since that first night we met. My well enough job.” He took a larger swallow of wine, then set the glass down.

  Dom toyed with his own glass. “What do you want to be doing? I mean, if you could pick?”

  Adrian looked out into the dining room, brow furrowed. “Something creative. Web design. I love the freelance work I’ve done. I’d really like to come up with a better social media platform.” He looked back. “Honestly, anything’s got to be more worthwhile than fixing broken code for a corporate bank.”

  Okay, so Dom did want to know more about Adrian, too. Learn what made him tick. But spiraling him into sadness was not exactly what Dom had planned. “Financial services institution,” he murmured.

  Adrian’s eyes widened, and he laughed. “Right.”

  Dom grinned back. “What about your friend?”

  “Jackson? He’s probably going to take a massive pay cut to go work for a startup that’s full of people of color and developing apps for queer kids.” Adrian’s face fell a little. “He has more integrity than me, to be honest.”

  Now look who was beating himself up. “Hon, it’s okay to make a living.”

  Adrian arched an eyebrow. “Hon?”

  Dom dropped his voice. “I guess Mish is wearing off on me. She calls us all hon.”

  A smile. “The bassist.”

  He nodded, trying hard not to glance around, but failing. Wouldn’t that be something? Domino Grinder, nerd extraordinaire, secretly out with his boyfriend.

  Adrian reached his hand out across the table. “We’re far enough away from everyone else. One good thing about some expensive places, they don’t pack us in so you’re sitting on your neighbor’s lap.”

  Dom slipped his hand into Adrian’s. “I know. It’s just... I kinda live in fear.”

  The smile dropped away again. “Yeah, figured that out recently.”

  He tried not to flinch. Failed.

  “Babe, it’s okay. I get it now.” Adrian squeezed his hand.

  Maybe he did. “Tell me more about your job. Or, like, what’s going wrong?”

  Arched eyebrows. “You really want to hear about that?”

  “Yeah, I kinda do.” He ran his thumb over the back of Adrian’s hand. “I want to talk like a normal couple. So...tell me about your week?”

  Adrian laughed, loudly enough to turn a few heads momentarily, but once he quieted, the other diners looked away. “Dominic, are we getting domestic?”

  Maybe Dom had been reading those BDSM books a little too much, because what came out of his mouth was, “Spanking isn’t really my thing.”

  And, of course, that’s when the server brought the food.

  Adrian dissolved into another bought of laughter, while the server impeccably and unfazedly laid down their meals.

  “Don’t mind me, I’m just going to shrink into this chair.” Dom’s cheeks were hot.

  There was a slight smile on the server’s lips, but he didn’t say anything except, “Bon appétit.”

  Across the table, Adrian sighed, but it was a happy sound. “This is exactly why I’m falling in love with you.”

  Heat and joy and embarrassment all blazed through Dom at the same time, and he looked into his wine.

  Adrian clicked his tongue. “You’re witty and wonderful and my world is so much brighter.”

  Was that what Adrian thought? Dom looked up—and there was nothing but love and admiration in those eyes. “I—Thanks.”

  A nod, and a different blaze of heat at Adrian’s approval.

  They both picked up their silverware. “So,” Adrian said, “you really want to know about my week at work?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Dom stabbed a ravioli, slid it into his mouth slowly and carefully, well aware that Adrian was now fixated on his lips. Once he’d chewed and swallowed, he took a sip of wine. “Then when we get home, I’ll tell you about mine.”

  An almost imperceptible shudder ran through Adrian. Had Dom not been watching him closely, he might have missed it. He didn’t miss the slow smile that blossomed, or the way Adrian shifted in his chair. “All right,” he said. “You have yourself a deal.”

  As they ate, Adrian talked about his software programing job. Sometimes the terms didn’t make sense to Dom—wrong language—but the struggles Adrian had with management, the way he’d been used by his coworker, those Dom understood.

  “I suspect Jackson will turn in his notice soon.”

  “Your best friend?”

  “Yes, he’s—” Adrian huffed a laugh, and color touched his cheeks. “We’ve been friends for a while. We met at a club.”

  “I still think it’s weird that you go clubbing, given how much you hate modern music.”

  “I don’t hate modern music, I just don’t listen to it much.” Adrian took a sip of wine and grinned over the rim. “And I wasn’t going for the music. I was going to get laid.”

  “Did you?”

  “All the damn time.” He paused. “Sometimes with Jackson. Friends with benefits on occasion. But not recently. Hell, except for that time with you, I haven’t even been to a club in ages.”

  And not, Dom suspected, because of him—this felt like a before-Adrian-had-met-him kind of thing. “Any reason why not?”

  “Same reason I didn’t hook up with you that first night. I wanted something longer.” Adrian shrugged. “Jackson’s also my personal trainer, more or less.”

  That explained the toned body. “He does good work.”

  That got a chuckle out of Adrian. “I’ll be sure to mention that next time. Maybe he’ll fuck off with those damn burpees.”

  “Or make you do more.”

  “Shut your mouth, Dominic Bradley.” Adrian grinned. That expression mellowed a bit. “I’m going to guess it’s not the gym that keeps you in shape.”

  Dom laughed. “No. It’s touring and playing and running around onstage. I usually lose weight on tour if I’m not careful because it’s just so physical.”

  He kept peppering Adrian with questions about his job. What he did like: solving complex problems. Fixing shit. Cleaning up designs.

  “I wasn’t kidding when I said website design. There’s a lot of thought that could be put into how to navigate someone through content.”

  Dom shook his head. “You’re looking at someone who just uses templates on a build-it-yourself site.”

  Adrian cringed. “Babe, don’t say such things.”

  Dom couldn’t help laughing. Okay, for starting out nearly the worst way it might have, this night was shaping up to be a good one after all. When they finished their meal and their wine, Dom glanced at Adrian. “Dessert?”

  “At home.” The look in Adrian’s eyes sent a bolt of lust
across all of Dom’s veins and his dick responded.

  Home meant Adrian’s. It also probably meant rope. And maybe a chair. “Let’s go.”

  They behaved for the Uber driver. Mostly. Adrian’s hand was high on Dom’s thigh, touching and teasing, and his smile was just shy of leering.

  When they entered the house, Adrian gave Dom a gentle shove forward. “To the living room, please.”

  The air changed, or maybe it was Dom’s brain, because by the time he stepped into that space he was a little high and a lot turned on. Didn’t help that Adrian placed both hands on his shoulders, halting him.

  “Here’s fine.” Hands smoothed down Dom’s arms, then fell away. “Turn around, please.”

  He faced Adrian and stared up into those gold-flecked eyes.

  “Dominic.” Adrian breathed his name like it was a chant. “I love you. I want to give you everything I can.”

  “You—I—”

  Adrian framed Dom’s face with his hands. “We didn’t have a very good start to the evening, and that was my mistake and my fault. Before we do anything more tonight, I want to give you some time to make sure this is what you want from me.”

  Dom exhaled and fell back to earth with a grunt, but he couldn’t look away from Adrian’s sad and hopeful eyes. “I know what I want from you.” Right now and later. “And I’m not gonna let you take all the blame for earlier.”

  A small smile, then Adrian let go and stepped back. “Humor me. Sit for a little bit while I change.” He worked the knot loose on his tie. “It’s important to me not to overstep your bounds. Give me only what you want, Dominic. No more. And certainly not anything you don’t want to share.”

  Dom nodded, because he did understand. Adrian was seeking Dom’s comfort and consent—which said a lot, especially given their earlier spat and Dom’s breakdown. He wanted touch and reassurance. But if it made Adrian feel safer and more secure...well, he could wait a little, too.

  It was all about give and take and each other, after all.

  “Okay,” he said. “But I’m pretty damn sure I want to be tied up tonight, so maybe—” He waved in the direction of the stairs. “Bring something down for that?”