by Jules Jones
“Or as you said, just shy, though it’s a bit unusual in a dom. Though what’s in the bedroom isn’t always what’s out of the bedroom.” Simon gave him a mischievous smile. “Just look at you.”
One of the reasons they’d been such good friends over the years. Accepting each other as they were, not trying to fit each other into neat pigeonholes. “Or even one or two of your girlfriends.”
Simon closed his eyes, looking back in memory. “Remember the dear Miss Prudence?”
“Oh, god, yes.” The dear Miss Prudence had been a nice, upper-middle-class girl they’d met at university. They’d decided that she’d certainly make someone a very nice wife one day, so long as he was the sort of nice upper-middle-class boy who liked his wife to be properly demure and submissive in public and the stern nanny in private. “If I’d liked being caned, she might even have made me straight for her.”
“We were a terrible disappointment to her, weren’t we?”
“Let’s hope her husband wasn’t.”
Simon leaned back in his chair and grinned. “I ran into her a few weeks ago. Apparently he’s a captain of industry, and she’s ever so proud of him.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. Meant to tell you, but forgot about it. And the way she said she was proud of him -- well, I don’t think he was a disappointment to her in any way at all.”
“Good for her.” He’d liked Prudence. She was discreet but not ashamed of her desires, she was smart and funny, and she’d accepted their lack of interest in her more exotic fantasies with good grace. She’d even pointed him at one or two bi boys she’d thought might suit his tastes better than hers. “I hope she’s happy.”
“Ah, hell.” Simon sighed and pushed away the remains of his dinner. “If these guys are going to make you happy, go for it. I looked at Prudence and knew we were right to break up, but we were also right to give it a go.”
Martin prodded carefully at the tender spot in his emotions. “I ... should have broken off with Barry before I did. But I don’t think it was stupid to try with him.”
To his surprise, Simon agreed. “No. It would be different if you’d let him get away with it. But I think he was just like a lot of married men -- he saw something he wanted, and instead of dealing with the fact he was already married to someone else, he tried to have his cake and eat it, too. Makes him a stupid, selfish prick who was thinking with his prick, but not a malicious one.”
And Barry probably hadn’t been lying when he’d wanted to keep the relationship clandestine because he was still in the closet. He just hadn’t been telling the whole truth. “I just wish he’d been honest with me.”
“He was probably scared you’d walk away. Which you did.”
It didn’t hurt anything like as much to talk about it now. Time healed. And being crude about it, so did a day of bloody good sex with partners who were a good match for him. “I don’t think he’d ever been in a real D/s relationship before, and he’d got his ideas from bad porn. It was too easy for him to slip into assuming I was a sub outside the bedroom, and not just because that happened to suit him anyway.”
“Well, he knows better now. What’s for dessert?”
Changing the subject, stopping him from thinking about Barry long enough to start brooding again. Not a bad idea. But he was glad to find that he could think about it rationally now and see that he hadn’t been completely stupid to get involved with Barry in the first place. Barry wasn’t evil or deliberately cruel, just clueless and a bit self-centred; and there were enough of those in the world that he’d have had to be very lucky indeed to never get tangled up with one.
“Dessert?” Simon prompted.
“Oh. Sorry. I cheated and bought some fancy ice cream. Seemed the easiest when I wasn’t sure when or whether you’d get back.”
“Sounds good to me.”
* * * * *
That night Martin lay in his bed, the big bed Simon had bought for the spare room, and thought about his day.
It had been real. He hadn’t imagined it, not unless he was also imaging the pleasant ache he felt right now. There were no guarantees, but he had a chance at something good, and even if it didn’t work out, it had given him the perspective he needed on his relationship with Barry. He’d been right to walk away when he’d discovered that Barry had misled him, but he hadn’t been a fool to try with Barry in the first place. There had been good things in the relationship. His real regret was in not getting out when it became obvious that Barry couldn’t or wouldn’t overcome his preconceptions about how a dom should behave.
He went to sleep completely content for the first time in weeks.
Chapter Nine
“So what are we doing today?” Simon asked over breakfast.
What Martin’s cock wanted to do was rush out and meet George and Patrick. But he’d told them that he’d need to spend some time with Simon. “Do you need to do more unpacking?” The answer was yes, of course -- there were still boxes around the place. But it probably wasn’t urgent if the boxes still hadn’t been unpacked after two months.
“You don’t want to go and meet your two friends?”
“Yes. So I shouldn’t.”
“Second thoughts, or just giving yourself time to think things through?”
“Time to think.” They hadn’t talked about it anymore last night, but he still wanted to talk it over with Simon. It was going to be tricky, given that he couldn’t tell Simon all of it, but now that he knew his peculiar fantasy was no fantasy, he needed to think through what happened next.
Was there any chance at all of this working, or in fairness to all three of them should he tell George and Patrick it was over?
Simon broke into his thoughts. “If you’re worried about them being drifters, you should at least talk to them about it. For one thing, they might not be.”
“That, and other things. The sex was so good that ... well, I didn’t want to disturb the mood by talking about it. And I don’t think they did either.”
“So you’d all have one perfect day to remember, even if that’s all it ever ended up being? Can understand that.” Simon set a mug of tea down in front of him. “So what else did you do?”
“I read them a book.”
“God, they’re not illiterate, are they?”
He laughed. “No. It was just a nice way to wind down afterwards.”
“And it saved you from the horror of having to talk about your feelings.”
“We did a bit of that. But we mostly just lay in a shagged-out heap and read aloud.” He’d enjoyed it. It had been very relaxing to just sit there with them, no pressure, simply enjoying each other’s company. Rather like a lot of his weekends with Simon, only with added sex. He shared this thought with Simon.
Simon grinned and said, “Do you ever regret ...”
“No. Not that we did it that time, and not that we only did it the once.”
“I suppose if we hadn’t, we’d have always wondered.”
“Exactly.”
“We should be grateful you weren’t female and I wasn’t bi, or we might have been tempted to make more of it. And we’d have made each other bloody miserable.”
“Just don’t mention it in front of George. He’s a possessive bastard, and no, I don’t mean that in a bad way.” He remembered the look on George’s face as he’d asked if Martin understood George’s fear of what might happen out of his sight. “I wonder if they’ve been burnt by people coming in for a weekend break and then leaving them with empty promises.”
“Both doms, you said.”
He couldn’t remember whether he’d said it outright, but he’d certainly implied it. “Mmm.”
“Could be. They’d be easy meat for a guy who just wanted to have a quick fling as a sub somewhere where nobody knows him, and then forget about it.” Simon started clearing away the breakfast things. “I might be as much of a reassurance as a threat to them, in that case. I’m the guarantee you’ll come back.”
Thinking back about George’s reactions in particular, that was probably true. George was torn between resenting his friendship with Simon and being grateful for it. It might be a good idea to persuade them to meet Simon. Just seeing that Simon was settled in here, that there were spare bedrooms and one of them was clearly Martin’s -- that might help. Which reminded him. “Simon, are you okay with me leaving my stuff in the spare room between visits?”
“Yes, but what brought on that train of thought?”
“Wondering whether your girlfriends will take exception to me.”
Simon shrugged. “If they get that wound up about stuff in the other bedroom, I’d prefer to know sooner rather than later. If it was in my room, they’d have a point. If you hadn’t been introduced, that could be rude even if they’re happy with an open relationship.”
He’d thought that, but he knew that he didn’t really understand the fine details of polite behaviour in such situations. “And if it’s just not being comfortable with a guy they don’t know wandering in and out?”
“Wander in and out enough and you’ll be someone they do know.” Simon paused, then went on, “Martin, have you thought about getting your own permanent place yet?”
“Just because you’ve finally settled down in one place ...” His own place was a rented house that had been meant for only a few months, but had somehow become home. It wasn’t that big, but he was single and away on contract work much of the time. It only had to be comfortable and big enough to store his worldly goods.
Simon waved a hand in dismissal. “Yes, but I bought this place partly because I wanted to be building up an asset and now’s a good time to buy. Think about your retirement fund, old man. You must have saved enough for a decent deposit by now.”
“Well, keep an eye out for something around here, if you like my company that much.” Which wasn’t a bad idea, really, although he’d want to make a few more trips before deciding whether it was where he wanted to settle.
“Don’t make plans before you know if this is going to work.”
“What? Oh.” He hadn’t actually been thinking about George and Patrick. “No, I was just thinking that if you like the place and you find it reasonably easy to get out for work, it’s worth considering.” Worth it even without the added incentive of a potential relationship. He wasn’t factoring that into any long-term plans, not yet.
“Well, in that case maybe we should go for a tour of the neighbourhood this morning.” Simon gave him a lecherous grin. “Assuming you’re up to a long drive and some heavy walking.”
He had winced once or twice when he’d bent over. Another good reason to go for a walk rather than rush straight off to see George and Patrick. “A walk would be nice. Just don’t make plans to be out all day.”
“You did have a good time, didn’t you? All right, I’ll take you for a walk around town, and we can call in at the estate agents. If you get too stiff, we can always come home, otherwise lunch in town.”
That sounded like a good idea. “You’re on.”
* * * * *
A hefty dose of normal life gave him a better perspective on his recent experience. It was frustrating not being able to talk over everything with Simon, but in some ways that was useful. He needed to have the magic stripped away for a little while, so that he could think about the practicalities.
“You’re going to go for it, then,” Simon said as they sat sipping their coffee after lunch.
“I think I have to. It’s going to be hard, but I don’t think it’s impossible.” And there was what he’d already said to George. “I can’t take the risk of walking away without even trying to find out.”
“At least this time you’re going into it with your eyes open. I’d still like to meet them, though.” Simon set his cup down and signalled to the waitress for the bill. “Let’s go out in the boat this afternoon. Not just to meet your friends. To meet your other friends.”
“What?”
“The dolphins. Maybe if you’re in the boat with me, they’ll hang around for a bit.”
This ... was going to be interesting. And he didn’t have a decent excuse to get out of it, unless he pleaded aches and pains. Claiming that he didn’t want to run into George and Patrick while he was still thinking things over wasn’t going to work, not when he’d told Simon that he’d made his decision. “All right. But I don’t think I’m up to much, so I might not want to stay out long.”
Simon looked him over. “You do look tired. It’s not just yesterday, is it? You’ve been working too hard.”
He’d forgotten that in the euphoria he’d felt, but it was true enough. He had good reason to be tired, even without yesterday. “Not too hard, but I’m glad of the break.”
“I’d like to go out, but I can go by myself if it’s going to be too much for you,” Simon offered.
He was finding the idea of just staying in more and more tempting, but it wasn’t fair on Simon. “No. Not if you’ve got to start work again tomorrow.”
“It’s only Bournemouth for the rest of the week, and I’ll be home for tea. But I won’t be able to get out in the boat.” Simon sounded wistful.
That settled it. “Let’s have an hour, at least. You can always drop me back if I get too tired.”
* * * * *
Simon wanted a look at the cave, but Martin put him off. “Even if I can find it, we might not be able to get into it. The entrance is low enough to be covered at high tide.”
“And you think it’s where your two friends hang out, don’t you? Well, if you want to respect their privacy, at least take me to look at where that dolphin found you the fossil.”
That seemed safe enough. “I don’t think it’s too far for me today.”
“Let’s go and take a look. There’s been at least one more storm since then, so there might be fresh exposures.” Simon swung the boat out towards the open water.
They were soon joined by two dolphins. Simon hadn’t noticed; he was concentrating on steering the boat. Martin wondered whether to mention it, but when the dolphins were still keeping pace alongside the boat a minute or two later, he said, “We’ve got company.”
Simon slowed the boat and looked around. He grinned as he saw the dolphins. “Maybe they’ll stick around now you’re here.” He brought the boat to a complete halt.
One dolphin reared up and whistled at them before settling down again.
“You’d better talk to them,” Simon said.
“We’re going to look for fossils,” he said, pointing along the coast.
The dolphin whistled at him and turned to face in the same direction as the boat.
“I think that’s a hint,” Simon said and started the boat again. “Tell me if they stop following us.”
The dolphins followed them all the way to the cove. Simon stopped the boat in the middle of the cove and looked around. “Does it look any different?”
Martin looked around. “It’s been too long; I just don’t remember well enough.”
“Well, we can get out and have a look. Any rock pools?”
“There’s a bit of a shelf along there with some pools in it.” He pointed out the area he remembered from last time.
“Might as well take a look. I’ll be working for the next few days, but we can always come back.”
Martin saw the nearest dolphin taking an interest in that. He had no idea whether it was George or Patrick; he couldn’t tell them apart in this shape. But he was certain that the dolphins were the ones he knew, and not just a random pair who’d turned up. “Well, if you’re working tomorrow, I’ll come out on my own for a bit.” Just making conversation, to Simon’s ears; a message, to the dolphin who wasn’t a dolphin.
“As long as you’re not too tired,” Simon said. “Don’t overdo things. And if you find your friends, bring them home for dinner.”
The dolphin looked at Simon, then at Martin.
“Not you, idiot,” Simon said, laughing. “Though if you come to the jetty, we can probably bring you s
omething.” To Martin, “Do you think it understood me?”
“I’m damned sure he understood you.” He stared at the dolphin. “He certainly understood the word ‘dinner’. And one of them has a chocolate fetish.”
“I think there’s a spare bar in here.” Simon bent over to reach into a locker.
Well, that settled which one was Patrick. It was the one who was suddenly right next to the boat, staring eagerly up at Simon.
“I see what you mean,” Simon said. “He certainly knows the word ‘chocolate’, doesn’t he? Is it all right to give him some?”
“They haven’t taken any harm from it yet. And he obviously learnt to like it before he met me.” Martin realised that Simon had started off calling the dolphins “it”, and was now calling them “he”. Picked up from him. He’d have to watch what he said.
Simon opened the bar and broke off a strip. “Here you go.” He tossed it to Patrick -- no, think of him as the dolphin -- who caught it neatly. Another strip to the other dolphin.
Both of them whistled. Simon stared at them. “Did they just say thank you to me?”
“It certainly sounded like it.”
“That’s what I meant. It sounded as if they were trying to make the whistle sound like thank you.”
“I told you they were smart.”
Simon shrugged. “They’ve probably been hanging around humans too much for their own good. I just hope they keep away from people who might harm them.”
“Well, if you want them to hang around us while we do some fossil-hunting, put on something for them to listen to.”
“I’ve got Dire Straits loaded at the moment, but I could find something else.”
There was an approving whistle.
“The buggers are listening to us,” Simon said.
“Better watch what you say, then.” If only he could tell Simon. It wasn’t fair to leave him in the dark about there being two human minds down there in the water, but he had no choice. It just made him squirm a little at the thought of Simon saying things he wouldn’t say if he knew who or what was listening. “They listened all the way through my draft lecture on the local fossils.”
