Paid to Be Shared

by Romilly King

  Birch felt lightheaded and sick, he ripped the clamps from his chest and gasped at the sudden starburst of pain. Fuck, he needed to get out of here, he had done this, he had set them one against the other. He should have listened to Cash.

  Griffin threw himself at Ivo with a roar, and Birch crawled backward, looking for his clothes. Don’t look, he thought to himself, don’t watch them tear each other apart, just get out, get help.

  His hand landed on his sweatpants folded by the door. He dragged them on, never more overjoyed to cover his stupid nakedness, and stumbled out of the room. He heard a crash behind him and whimpered as he threw himself down the stairs. His phone was on the console table in the hall, and he grabbed it on the way past before he fumbled open the front door and let himself out into the night.

  The ground was cold and gritty under his bare feet. He thumbed his phone as he lurched down the street. Don’t look back, don’t look back.

  He keyed his emergency code into the phone and held it to his ear, panting as he tried to get as far away from the house as possible.

  “Where are you?” it was Tay, he must have the duty on-call.

  Birch panted, “Downtown, one block west of my Emptores house,”

  “Are you safe?”

  “Yes, I think so, they lost it with each other, not me, just each other, fuck.”

  “I’m on my way. I’m coming now. I want you to stay on the phone. I am less than six minutes away, Birch,”

  “Okay, okay,” Birch shivered, his skin was awash with cold sweat, and the night air had dipped to near freezing.

  “Keep talking Birch, I need you to keep talking,” Tay’s voice was all subtle Dom, instructing not demanding, and Birch clung to it.

  “I’m dropping Tay. I’m dropping. I can feel it. I don’t drop, Tay, you said it yourself, I’m a rubber ball, I bounce, but I can’t breathe Tay, I can’t breathe,”

  “You can, and you are,” Tay’s voice was firm, “In through the nose, out through the mouth little sub, slow and steady,”

  “I was under,” Birch gasped, “I was under, and Griff was happy, and then Ivo was there, and Griff was angry, and then, and then,” he felt his chest constricting, as if his lungs couldn’t pull in the air, “I broke them, Tay, I broke them,” He fell back against the cold stone of the building behind him.

  “Three minutes, Birch, I’ll be there in three minutes,” Birch could hear the roar of an engine over the phone microphone, “I need you to count for me, Birch, see the numbers in your head, imagine them, and count back from 100. They are big neon numbers Birch, can you see them?”

  “Yeah,” Birch stuttered, “One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight,” He sucked in a shaky breath, “Ninety-seven,”

  He had never dropped before, he wasn’t that kind of sub. He was stable, he knew what he was, he knew what he did, and it was good, no moral ambiguity. “Eighty-eight, eighty-seven,” His muscles screamed, phantom pains shooting up and down his back. His head throbbed, “Seventy-nine, seventy-eight,”

  He never dropped, he dived deep, he swam in subspace and then he rocketed to the surface like a porpoise, leaping into clean air with a joyful flourish. Dark waves never pulled him back under.

  “Sixty-seven,” he didn’t recognize his own voice, it was thin and reedy.

  He never dropped. He had never had something worth dropping for before.

  The numbers in his head vanished, and he felt the turmoil of Griffin’s anger again. He felt the wrench as their connection disintegrated, the dynamic unraveling with a vicious backlash to him. He was the worthless naked boy who begged for comfort, pain, and humiliation. He had been so aware of his own nakedness, so aware of his burning nipples and his drool covered chin. He had felt so stupid.

  And then Ivo had hit Griff, and he was terrified that he had broken them.

  “Birch, Birch, answer me, boy,” Tay’s voice dragged him back.

  “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, Tay help me,” everything swirled in Birch’s head.

  “I’m nearly there, hold on kid,”

  Birch looked around frantically, the dark street was hemmed in by shadowy buildings, and the only bright thing he could see was the moonlight reflected on the distant snowcaps of the mountains that ringed the city. “Birch,” he turned at the sound of his name and saw Ivo pounding down the street towards him. Ivo’s shirt was untucked, ballooning out behind him. Birch had never seen Ivo look anything other than immaculate and entirely in control, and it frightened him to see this version running towards him.

  Birch backed away, the phone in his hand dropped, and he heard the plastic and glass shatter and skitter as it hit the pavement. He turned and looked frantically for somewhere to run when a dark SUV pulled up beside him. The door swung open, and Tay barked, “Get in,”

  Birch scrambled into the front seat, and before he could pull the door shut, Tay had floored the gas, and the SUV sprang forward. Birch had a split second view of Ivo on the sidewalk as the headlights caught him, his mouth open in a silent shout, his hands to his head.

  “Strap in,” Tay’s instruction was terse, “Are you hurt?”

  “No,” Birch gasped, “Don’t think so,”

  “We’ll check you at the Agency, hold on, we’re going home,”

  Birch white-knuckled the edges of the seat as Tay swerved through the quiet night streets.

  “Cash, I just had a code called by Birch, meet me at the office,” Tay spoke into his headset, “I need a domestic disturbance called into the police about his Emptores,” he hesitated, “No, he’s physically okay, but he’s in full drop, I’m going to need you there.”

  Birch started to cry quietly, God how had he fucked this up so badly?

  Chapter Twenty-Eight - Griffin

  Griffin shook his head. He saw stars from where it had slammed against the wall, and his jaw ached – Ivo really could throw a punch, but then he had fought his way up from a blue-collar boy to a thoracic surgeon, anyone who thought he was a weakling was wrong… Fuck, his hands.

  Ivo was kneeling on the floor, his hands braced on his thighs, he panted, glaring at Griffin.

  Griffin pulled himself to his knees and crawled over, “You prick,” he grasped Ivo’s hands trying to get a good look at them, “Could you not just slap me like a decent gay man, why do you have to punch me every damn time,”

  “Because you tried to punch me first,” Ivo’s voice was harsh.

  “I don’t know what happened?” Griffin said.

  “My timing sucked is what happened,”

  “Yeah, word to the wise, never interrupt a Dom in his headspace,”

  “I didn’t know you were in your headspace, I realize that now,”

  Ivo let Griffin uncurl his hands. The knuckles were grazed and already swelling.

  “We need to get these iced,”

  “No,”

  “Why not?”

  “Other things to do,” Ivo shook, he gritted his teeth, fighting the tremors, “Birch,”

  Griffin looked up at Ivo, “I love him,” he said because Ivo already knew.

  “Me too,”

  “I’m so sorry,”

  “Least of our problems right now, he’s gone,”

  Griffin suddenly looked around the room. He didn’t know what he expected, that Birch would be stood there waiting for them to come to their senses, waiting for them to sort their shit out?

  “Where is he?”

  “I think he ran, I was busy trying to stop you killing me at the time,”

  “Find him,” Griffin demanded.

  Ivo's face was pale, and he was sweating, “Going to,” he said, “Just needed a minute,” He levered himself to his feet, his expression grim, he licked a trace of blood from his bottom lip, “Wash your face, you look like you got mugged,”

  “I did, by so many things,”

  “We both did,”

  “We’re idiots,”

  “I think that’s a given,” Ivo straightened, determined, “I’ll go find him, you had bette
r ring Delphic, the emergency number is on the contract,”

  Griffin heard Ivo’s heavy steps on the stairs as he made his way to his bathroom.

  He quickly splashed water on his face. He dabbed the split in his lip, it stung, but not as much as knowing that Birch had run.

  In the mirror, his eyes were red-rimmed, his jaw where Ivo’s punch had landed was already swelling. Christ, he looked like shit.

  He loved Birch. He told Ivo he loved Birch. Ivo loved Birch. When had this all happened?

  He knew he was suffering from Dom Drop, as insidious a reaction to sudden switches in emotion as Sub Drop, but thankfully less prevalent. His head felt full of cotton wool, and his mouth was dry from the adrenalin surges.

  Why the hell had Ivo come into the room at that moment? Griffin had been buried in his Dominant headspace, his sweet sub was on his knees in front of him, his warm mouth offered up for Griffin’s comfort. Griffin had been solely focused on Birch until Ivo had spoken, and his presence there had caused every Dominant instinct in Griffin to overreact.

  All he could remember was rage, rage at Ivo being in his space, trying to muscle in on his scene, and then criticizing him over the care of his sub.

  Griffin leaned on the sink and breathed, trying to calm the rush of his heartbeat. Ivo had been right though, Griffin should have thought of Birch first. Birch running was all on Griffin, he had ignored his sub in favor of aggression towards his husband, Birch’s other Dom.

  He was aware of a phone ringing in the playroom, its jangling tone grated against his ears.

  In the playroom, he noted Birch’s shoes and shirt were still in place beside the door. God, the boy, had run out barefooted.

  He picked the phone up, and as he answered the call, he noticed the time was 23.30, less than an hour since he and Birch had come upstairs to scene.

  “Hello,” Griffin knew his voice sounded tremulous.

  “This is Dr. Cashel Gregory from the Delphic Agency. Be advised, your contract with us is terminated.”

  “No, you can’t do that,” Griffin whispered, “We didn’t hurt him, it was just a stupid misunderstanding, just lousy timing,”

  “Your Venditor triggered an emergency response, and has been collected” Dr. Gregory’s voice was stone cold, "We at Delphic operate a one strike and you’re out, policy with our Emptores.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” Griffin knew he sounded desperate, “Let me explain, please,”

  “An experienced submissive is currently in severe sub drop because you and your husband had a physical fight over him while he was in subspace,” Dr. Gregory’s voice was harsh with barely suppressed rage, “There is nothing to explain. The contract is null and void. You and your husband are blacklisted. Delphic will employ every legal avenue to ensure you never harass the Venditor again,”

  “We love him, we both love him,” Griffin cried, “You can’t do this,”

  “Watch me,”

  The line went dead.

  Griffin looked up and met Ivo’s broken gaze, he must have returned while Griffin was on the phone.

  Ivo shook his head, “I was too late,” he said, “They picked him up, they don’t hang around,”

  “They canceled the contract, we’re blacklisted,” Griffin said.

  “I guessed,”

  Griffin took a step towards Ivo, “We can find him, he lives here, we know him, can’t we reach out to him,” he pleaded.

  Ivo pulled Griffin into his arms. Ivo smelt of sweat and cold air and sadness, “We can’t, they have protocols in place for situations like this, if we try and contact him they will crush us,”

  Griffin grasped Ivo, “What the fuck have we done?”

  Ivo hugged him back, “We have fucked up massively,” he said, “But we will make it better, I promise,” He pressed his cheek against Griffin’s and his face was wet, but then Griffin realized, his was too. Tears spilled from both of them. Griffin struggled to hold in a sob.

  “We have each other, we will always have each other, we will get over this,” Ivo promised.

  “But what about Birch,” Griffin looked at Ivo, “He’s dropping, and we caused it, and we’re not there to help him,”

  “I know,” Ivo’s face was grim, “That’s the worst part right now,”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine - Ivo

  “When did you realize it?” Griffin asked Ivo the following day.

  He and Griffin had crawled into bed eventually and held each other throughout the night. Whenever they awoke from their restless sleep, they had exchanged gentle, desperate kisses, united in their grief.

  Now he and Griffin were sat in the garden, under the cold light of the imminent Fall. They were pressed together on the garden bench, as they both sought the comfort of touch.

  Ivo considered Griffin’s question, “Honestly,” he said, “For sure, about ten minutes before you said it. Looking back, I think definitely from my first scene with him, but potentially from the moment he interrupted Dr. Gregory during the interview and tried to make us feel more relaxed because it was our home.”

  Griffin nodded, “I know what you mean,” he said, “For me, it was that evening when he made food for us, and he knelt at the table. For the first time, I felt we were complete, not that we weren’t real before, but there was something about him that joined all the pieces together.”

  They were both quiet for a moment.

  “How do they think he feels about us?” Griffin asked eventually.

  “Right now I think he probably hates us,” said Ivo and rubbed his hands across his face, “I can’t believe I made such an obvious mistake,”

  “I can’t believe I had such little control,” Griffin said.

  “I can’t believe we were so stupid as to think we could separate our submissive from our relationship. It was ridiculous from the get-go. We shared a house, shared a bed, shared a life, but we didn’t realize we could share our love too.” Ivo shook his head at their ignorance, “It should have been the three of us from the start, Birch knew that we just didn’t listen to what he was trying to say.”

  Chapter Thirty - Griffin

  They made it, of course, they did. They were married before, and they were married still. They loved each other. That’s not to say it wasn’t difficult.

  There were days when Griffin felt the guilt like a stone in his gut. There were days when he raged at Ivo. He blamed him for coming into the room when he did, then he blamed him for retaliating when he could have walked away.

  The rage was always followed by regret. Griffin repeatedly apologized for being the one to throw the first punch, for not talking about how he felt when he knew there was an issue, for not caring for Birch first.

  It was exhausting, and the shadows under Ivo’s eyes grew dark, and there came a point when he could see where Griffin’s mood was going, and he would remove himself. Leave the house, drive for hours in the mountains, and only return after dark.

  Then there were the days when all they could do was stay in bed and lose themselves in mindless pleasure, both giving and receiving. Griffin thought those were the worst because, in the throes of passion, they couldn’t bring up the things that had given them the most pleasure.

  But they made it. They settled back down into the domesticity they had always enjoyed, but every day Griffin wrote to Delphic, and every day the response he got was nothing.

  Finally, a week before thanksgiving steamrollered them into remembering that they should have been more thankful for what they received, Griffin received an email from Cash Gregory. It had only two words on it, Call me.

  When Cash’s stern face appeared on the monitor, Griffin didn’t allow him to speak before he blurted, “How is he?”

  Cash drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, “He’s okay,” he said, “He’s quieter, lost his bounce a little, but he’s okay, he will be okay, we will ensure that.”

  “I am so sorry,” Griffin said, “We are so sorry,”

  “So it seems,” Cash replied, �
��But frankly I don’t give a shit how sorry you are, I operate on Birch’s needs, not yours, and Birch requested I speak to you.”

  Griffin held his breath.

  “Birch wanted to know if you and Ivo were still together,” Cash said.

  “Of course we are,” Griffin said, “We worked it through, we both fucked up, we know that, but we weren’t going to let it beat us, our marriage is too important.”

  Cash nodded, “Well, that’s good,” he said. He made eye contact with Griffin through the screen, his gaze direct, “I think Birch requires closure before he can move on,” he said evenly, “I have told him closure is a meaningless construct, but he feels it is necessary in this instance,”

  “He feels he needs to finish this contract before he can move onto the next one?” Griffin asked.

  “Birch won’t work again as a Venditor,” Cash said bluntly.

  “What, why not, he’s perfect as a Venditor,” Griffin’s heart broke as he spoke the words, but they were the truth, Birch was the perfect Venditor, he had been perfect for them until they had let him down.

  “Birch doesn’t feel confident enough to take on new contracts given how this one progressed, and confidence in himself was one of Birch’s defining features,”

  “What will happen to him?” Griffin asked. He knew Birch had never explored any other avenues of employment, he had always said he was ill-equipped for any career that didn’t involve his body, “Does he need money?”

  “Certainly not,” Cash said coldly, “Birch is Delphic’s responsibility. We never turn our backs on a Venditor,”

  “What will he do then?” Griffin asked.

  “That is not your concern. The only reason I am calling is that Birch requested the opportunity to see you, but only if you and Ivo were still together,”

  “Of course, he can see us anytime,” there was a flicker of hope in Griffin’s heart, he dared not fan the flame of it, “And please, tell him, he didn’t hurt Ivo and me if that is what he is concerned about. We hurt him, we know that.”

  “I will tell him nothing,” Cash said, “I was very against even contacting you, but Birch felt it was essential. We will bring him to your house at,” he paused to scan through his calendar, “Friday afternoon at 3pm, will you make yourselves available?”