by Nora Phoenix
He nodded, even though he didn’t understand the contradiction in Blake’s words. If he didn’t want Aaron to hide his sexuality, how would he prevent from being outed? None of this made sense, and he got tired of even trying to make heads or tails out of it.
“Get changed, puppy. Wear makeup if you like. I’ll wait.”
“Is Charlie still here?”
Aaron had heard him and Blake talking while he was getting dressed.
Blake sighed. “No. He decided to go back home.”
Aaron’s brow furrowed. “But I thought his boyfriend was abusing him?”
“He is. But Charlie doesn’t see it that way. Yet. Abuse is complicated, and it’s incredibly hard for victims to walk away. There’s a lot of shame involved, and often victims stay for reasons that make sense to them, like what they perceive or define for themselves as expressions of love. Charlie isn’t ready yet, but I have hope he will be, someday. Now, get changed.”
Aaron decided on wearing the baby blue polo shirt Blake had bought him, with the first pair of tight jeans. They weren’t as low cut as the other ones but still left little to the imagination. It took him three tries to put some mascara on, and the tiniest hint of blue eye shadow, but he was happy with the result. He’d have to practice for a long time to get Charlie’s proficiency with makeup, but he did look pretty.
When he stepped out, Blake eyed him and nodded with an approving smile. “That’s my Sexy Aaron. Let’s go.”
Blake took him to an Italian restaurant, about twenty minutes away. It was blissfully quiet in the restaurant, probably because everyone was watching the Super Bowl—something neither of them cared about. Josh had been a football and Pats fan since he’d met Noah, but Aaron couldn’t care less. He’d watch the occasional baseball game, but that was about as much sports as he could handle.
Aaron was nervous as the hostess led them to a secluded table for two in the back. He wanted to sit down, but Blake held him back, then stepped in to hold out the chair for him.
“Thank you,” Aaron said automatically.
Blake sat down across from him and sent him a soft smile.
“Would you like to see our wine menu, sir?” the hostess asked Blake.
“Not for me. Would you, Aaron?”
He shook his head. “I don’t drink.”
She handed them their menus and walked away.
“You can drink if you want,” Aaron offered. “I can drive us back.”
“No, puppy, that’s my job.”
Aaron studied the menu.
“Do you like Italian? Sorry, little late for that question,” Blake said.
“I eat everything. I’m the opposite of a picky eater,” Aaron said. It was true. Aside from beans, which he tolerated but didn’t really like, there was nothing he couldn’t or wouldn’t eat. It made choosing hard, because everything looked good. Also, he didn’t want to order something that was too expensive, and he wasn’t sure if Blake wanted to do appetizers or not.
“Want me to order for you?” Blake asked.
Aaron looked up and smiled in relief. “Would you? Yes, please. I hate making decisions like this. Too much to choose from.”
When their server came, Blake ordered carpaccio for them to share as a starter, which Aaron had never even heard of. For an entree he chose seafood linguine for himself, and grilled lamb chops for Aaron.
“You’re gonna love that lamb, puppy. They grill it to perfection here.”
“Why do you keep calling me puppy?” Aaron asked.
Blake smiled. “You don’t like it?”
“I do. I was just wondering, because you call me puppy and Little Aaron, and it’s like you want to constantly stress I’m young, or something.”
“You are.”
“Not that young.”
“Close enough.”
“Is that why you say it?”
Blake shook his head, laughed. “You’re a pit bull puppy, that’s for certain. Such a stubborn little shit. No, Aaron, that’s not why.” His face sobered. “Have you ever had a puppy?”
He shook his head. “No. My parents didn’t like pets.”
“My brother Brad, he found a puppy once. The owner abandoned it, probably because it was the runt of the litter. It was this tiny little fur ball, a lab mix of some sort, and from the moment Brad picked him up, Brad was his daddy. That puppy would not let him out of his sight. He followed him everywhere, even into the bathroom, and constantly wanted to be picked up by him. That little fur ball craved touch, but it was also constantly looking at him for approval. Brad would teach him commands, like ‘sit,’ and he’d plop his little butt on the floor, wag his tail, and wait for Brad to say ‘good boy.’ Max lived for Brad, for his love and approval. He still does, by the way. Brad kept him, and Max is now fourteen. Even at the end of his life, Brad is everything to him. All Max wants to do is make Brad happy.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“When I first met you, I misjudged you. I felt you were some entitled, self-centered, arrogant kid, and boy, was I wrong. You were simply a lost little puppy, pretending to be a big dog out of survival instinct. Underneath, you were trying to find an owner who would take you in, love you, and let you please him.”
Blake’s words rolled around in Aaron’s head. They felt big, somehow. “An owner?” Aaron whispered. “You mean as an analogy, right?”
Blake’s expression changed to something so kind Aaron’s breath caught. “Not entirely.”
“I don’t want to be owned. That’s…that would make me a slave.”
“That’s not what I mean. Aaron, what I saw as entitlement at first, was your deep desire and expectation that someone would take care of you. You have this profound need inside of you to be cared for. You don’t want independence. You want to be dependent on someone else, defer to him for decisions.”
His head swirled with thoughts. “How?”
Again, Blake understood his confused question.
“You loved it when I bought clothes for you. You were immensely grateful, but not once did you offer to pay me back. It was like you were convinced that wasn’t even an option—and wasn’t necessary. You let me decide for you to start your jiujitsu training. You let me order food for you. Even in the club, when you went off on your own, you still wanted me to watch you. Your eyes are constantly seeking mine, as if you need to know where I am, and that we’re good. When I praise you, your entire face lights up. Your body responds to every little signal from me. And even when you’re asleep, you seek my presence, as if you’re afraid I’d leave you alone. You truly are a little puppy, Aaron.”
Blake had laid Aaron’s soul bare, voicing what he himself had never put into words, had barely even begun to realize. Everything he said rang true, and it constricted his throat.
He was spared an immediate reaction because the server brought their appetizers. They looked perfect: beautifully thin sliced circles of meat arranged on a big platter, with arugula, roasted pine nuts, fresh shaved Parmesan cheese, and some kind of oily dressing on top.
Blake cut off a little bite, held it out on his fork to Aaron. He bit without thinking, humming as the combination of flavors hit his tongue. The meat was tender and mixed perfectly with the crunchy nuts, the dressing, the salty cheese, and the slightly bitter arugula.
“Good?” Blake asked.
Aaron nodded. Not until he’d opened his mouth to get Blake to offer him another bite did the meaning of what he’d done sink in. He wanted Blake to feed him.
“Oh,” escaped from his mouth.
Blake looked at him with kindness. “Are you starting to see? It’s why one-night stands will never work for you. You’re loyal. You attach yourself to someone. You couldn’t fuck someone, or let yourself be fucked, and walk away. It would break your heart every single time.”
Aaron’s eyes burned, but he pushed back the tears. “This is not normal, right?” he asked, his voice barely audible. “Is there, like, therapy or something to get this fix
ed?”
Blake put down his fork and knife and reached for his hand. “Aaron, you’re fine. You’re okay, just as you are.”
He shook his head. “No. This is not normal. It can’t be.”
“There’s no such thing as normal. We all try to figure out what works for us. Do I think this has something to do with your childhood? Yes. I think you missed out on a lot of safety and security, especially as a teen. In some way, this may be regressive behavior. But it’s not crazy, Aaron. It’s not harmful to you or to others, and if it brings you the comfort you need, who cares?”
“Have you ever heard of this before?”
“Variations on it, for sure. There’s the daddy/boy dynamic some couples have that can come close. Or the owner/slave role-play within the BDSM scene. As a matter of fact, there’s even baby and toddler play or puppy play.”
Aaron frowned. “What’s that?”
“It’s people behaving like a baby or toddler, or like a puppy for an agreed amount of time, and someone else will play the father or mother, or the owner.”
“You mean they pretend to be an actual puppy?”
“Yup. Licking, crawling on the floor, being trained, wearing a collar, the whole nine yards.”
Huh, how about that? Aaron tried to picture it, himself wearing a dog collar, sitting at Blake’s feet. Blake petting his head, or his romp for being a good puppy. Instead of the sense of shame and alienation he’d expected to feel, his heart sped up. Oh, heck, no. He covered his head in his hands, too ashamed to face Blake. No matter what the man had said, he had to think Aaron was certifiably nuts.
“Did I ever tell you about my father?” Blake said.
Aaron peeked at him through his fingers. “No.”
“Take your hands down, Aaron. I like looking at your face.”
Hesitantly he removed his hands. Blake held out another bite for him, and after a second of hesitation he took it.
“Good boy,” Blake said.
Aaron felt the words reach deep inside him, calming him. He was so seriously messed up.
“My father was an alcoholic who got real aggressive when he drank. I’m the oldest of four, and for as long as I can remember, my father beat my mom.”
Aaron looked up, surprised.
“She would do everything she could to protect us, and for the most part, it worked. He hit us a couple of times, me mostly because I was the oldest, but not nearly as bad as he abused her.”
“Blake…” Aaron gasped. This time, he reached for Blake’s hand and held it.
“My youngest brother, Benjamin, he’s mentally handicapped. I don’t know what happened exactly, but he was a crybaby when he was born. He cried all the time, and it drove my father nuts. I think he picked him up one time, shook him hard, and he sustained brain injury. I don’t know for sure, but one day he was a healthy baby, and the next he had these developmental issues. But I was only seven, so I didn’t realize it.”
Aaron’s eyes welled up with compassion. What a devastating tragedy. It explained why Blake was so passionate about creating a safe place for victims of domestic abuse. “Did your mom ever leave him?” he asked, hoping it was the right thing to say.
“Once. She took us with her, but he found us. He almost killed her that time. Beat the shit out of me and my brother Burke, too, for trying to step in and protect her. I was thirteen, he was eleven. A few months later, he went on a drinking binge and killed himself in a DWI. I thanked God that day that he was dead.”
“I’m so sorry, Blake. I can’t even imagine. Your mom, did she ever get over it?”
He shook his head, his eyes sad and forlorn. “No. She died when I was barely eighteen. Heart attack. I think it was grief, mixed with guilt. She did her best, but she couldn’t move on.”
“What happened to your brothers?”
“I became the legal guardian for Burke and Brad and raised them. Benjamin, he needed more. He was adopted by a family who’d heard about our story. I fought to keep him with us, but in the end, I had to let go. They were able to offer him the care I never could. He’s still with them, twenty-eight now, and he’s happy.”
“You did the right thing,” Aaron said, squeezing his hand. “But Blake, raising your brothers, what a commitment at that age. You guys still close?”
“Yeah.” He smiled, pure happiness on his face. “Brad is a middle school math teacher, and Burke runs a company that makes outdoor apparel. They both live close by, and we see each other every other week or so.”
Aaron smiled, too. “That’s good, that you guys have each other.”
“Aaron, all three of us are single. Brad is gay, like me, but Burke isn’t, yet even he has never had a long-term relationship. I wondered why that was, and for me, I know the answer. I’m scared.”
That was about the last thing Aaron expected tough Blake to say. “Of what?”
“Of losing control. Of becoming my father. Of loving someone so much that you’ll accept anything from them, even abuse. Of losing someone, or seeing them get hurt, because I wasn’t able to protect them.”
Aaron wanted to reassure him, wanted to tell Blake he was the kindest man he’d ever met, that he would never willingly hurt someone. He longed to let him know he would never stand by and let someone get hurt because he was simply too honorable. But he stayed silent. He understood.
“Aaron, if you think you’re fucked up, rest assured. I am just as fucked up as you are but in a different way. I need to stay in control, call the shots. I can’t allow my heart to get involved.”
11
The server came to take the entree plate away and refill their mineral waters. All that time, Aaron looked at Blake with big eyes.
“Where does that leave us?” he finally asked, then caught himself. “Is there even an ‘us’? Or is this dinner your kind way of telling me I need to find another place to live?”
Blake had considered it. Briefly. The thought of letting Aaron go had caused such tightness in his chest that he’d realized the impossibility of that option. But he couldn’t treat Aaron like a one-night stand, either. The kid wasn’t wired for casual sex, and that was not his fault.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Blake said. He waited till Aaron had found the guts to look him in the eyes. “In fact, you’re moving into my room. Permanently.”
“But…” Aaron sputtered.
Blake’s heart constricted. Did Aaron have objections? Had Blake gotten the signals all wrong? Didn’t Aaron want to be with him?
“What will the others think? It’s gonna be hard to keep it a secret,” Aaron said.
Phew. Blake released his breath. “I don’t know and I don’t care. It’s my house, and I can do whatever the hell I want. And yes, there’s an ‘us.’ If you want.”
“I don’t understand. Minutes ago, you told me you don’t do relationships.”
“I know. This is a first for me, too. I don’t know what it means or what it’s gonna look like between us. All I know is that the thought of letting you go scares me more than the idea of trying to make it work. So we’ll experiment together. If that’s what you want.”
It was the second time he’d indirectly asked Aaron to confirm that hell, yes, this was what he wanted. But he didn’t. Instead, he bit his bottom lip again, that adorable gesture that told Blake he was nervous.
“So you’ll be my boyfriend?” he asked.
“Yes. Publicly.”
“What about that puppy thing?”
“Aaron, what are you asking?”
“How am I supposed to behave as your boyfriend?”
Ah. He got it. Aaron still hadn’t fully understood. “Aaron, I want you to be yourself. If you want to wear pink and put on makeup, that’s fine. If you decide you’d rather wear a skirt instead of pants, go ahead. If you feel happier when you let me make decisions, works for me. If you want to try and see if you’d like pretending to be a puppy at times, that’s okay, too. All I’m asking is that you talk to me, communicate with me. I’m pretty good at
reading people, but this is new for me as well, so you’ll need to use words, okay?”
Aaron nodded, his face finally relaxing.
The server brought their entrees, and Blake watched with delight as Aaron dug into his lamb. He’d ordered him something he figured Aaron would like. The kid was a meat-lover, Blake had discovered, and he could sure use the fat and protein to bulk up a little.
“Good?” he asked.
Aaron licked his lips. “Perfect.” He chewed on his bite and swallowed. “Blake, you’re truly okay with it? Me being myself? It’s just that I’ve never felt safe enough to explore who I really am. It’s scary, to show you sides of myself that I consider weird, or…” He hesitated, then pushed it out. “Or plain fucked up.”
“Yes, I’m more than okay with it. I haven’t seen or heard anything so far that doesn’t mesh with who I am. You’re so focused on yourself—and don’t get me wrong, I get why—that you’ve overlooked how well this suits me. I like being bossy, Aaron. I need to be in control. I also relish being the caretaker. So if you want, I’ll take care of you.”
He held his breath, hoping this time Aaron would take the bait. Aaron’s crystal blue eyes rose up to meet his. “I’d love that. Thank you, Blake.”
“What the fuck are you thanking me for? I’m not doing you a service, Aaron. I apparently need you as much as you need me.”
Aaron seemed to ponder that, then his face transformed as he smiled. “So it makes you happy to take care of me?”
“Yes, puppy, it does. Now, eat your lamb, Aaron.”
They talked for the rest of the meal about anything and everything. He ordered a shared dessert for them, something chocolatey that had Aaron practically drooling.
“Blake, can we stop by Josh’s? I wanna make sure they’re all okay.”
“Sure thing. Do you want me to call?”
Aaron sent him a look of relief. “Would you, please?”
“That’s what you have me for. Let me pay and then we’ll call them, okay?”
