by Elouise East
“Did you sleep well?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Not sure.”
What he was sure about was that his two-word answers were grating on Isaac because Isaac’s tone became more clipped with each exchange, and Henley felt an obscene amount of pleasure from it.
Once the van was loaded, Isaac slid into the driver’s seat and Henley the passenger seat, pouting some more when he had to do it himself, without the assistance Isaac had provided Saturday night. They got on the road quickly, speeding towards a new store that would be opening in three weeks.
“Right. Now that we are away from prying eyes and ears, what’s the matter? And don’t say nothing because you have been sulking all morning.”
Henley didn’t say anything for the moment. He didn’t know what to say.
Isaac sighed. “When we were talking on Saturday, you said you understood that I needed you to always tell the truth. Did you lie to me?”
“No!” Henley swung his gaze around to Isaac. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Then why are you hiding behind silence today?”
Henley shifted in his seat, pushing his hands under his thighs as he thought about his answer. “I’m…annoyed,” he muttered.
“That’s a start. What are you annoyed about?”
Henley heaved a breath. “Because I wanted more on Saturday. And you left me standing there with nothing but a small kiss! I wanted…” Henley paused, brow furrowing. “That’s why. Because I wasn’t ready. I need to start thinking about both of us, not just me.” He glanced across at Isaac, seeing a small smile playing on his lips. “You didn’t want to rush us into anything. You wanted to go slow.”
“Correct.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I did.”
“When?”
“Think about our conversation, Henley. I’ll wait.”
Henley gazed out of the window, not seeing anything as he played back their date. There were lots of talking about trust, and then he remembered specific words: “Everything I do for or to you is for your benefit.”
“I have to trust that you know me better than I know myself when it comes to certain things.”
“Well done, Henley. I’m proud of you for figuring it out.”
Henley closed his eyes and grinned, sitting taller in his seat with the praise.
“I wanted to be with you,” Henley said.
“I know. And I wanted to be with you, too. But we need to make sure we’re happy with our decisions before we cross that line, okay?”
“Okay.” Henley waited a few seconds. “When will we know that we are happy with our decisions? Because I feel happy about it.”
Isaac chuckled. “I’m sure you do.”
“When can we go out again?” Henley asked.
“We’re going out with the execs this weekend, remember.”
“I know. I mean you and me. Maybe we could go to the cinema or bowling or something? I’ve not been to the cinema for a while. Not sure what’s on either, I’d have to check. Do you like the cinema? Or would you prefer dinner again? I’m easy, rea—”
“Henley? Relax.”
Henley inhaled and exhaled shakily, resting his head back and rolling it towards Isaac. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Just remember to breathe in between sentences or questions. How will anyone be able to answer you if you don’t give them time?” Isaac chuckled, gentling the reprimand.
“I get so…”
“Excited?” Isaac supplied with a smile.
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“It’s not a bad thing, Henley. Life is for living. If you can’t be excited about it, you’re not enjoying it.”
“Do you enjoy your life?”
“Very much so. I have a loving family, fantastic colleagues, amazing career. What more could I ask for than what has been given to me already?” He flicked his gaze over to Henley then back to the road. “Including you.”
Henley smiled. “Thank you.”
That conversation, however settling it was that day, proved to be only one of two of its kind that week. They were inundated with getting the store up and running, and with two unexpected trips making for long days, they had no time to breathe.
The second conversation consisted of Isaac asking Henley if he had any toys. After clarification was needed regarding which type of toys, Henley snorted and told Isaac he had plenty. Isaac detailed specifically what he wanted Henley to do that night to remove some of his stress, and two of those toys got used so much, the batteries died. But he went to work on Thursday feeling much better.
By Friday afternoon, though, Henley wanted to cry. Isaac had been amazing with him: rubbing his back to calm him when needed, being stern when he pushed too hard or whined too much, reminding him to eat and drink, asking about his family and friends. But he hadn’t touched him in any other way. No kisses, no petting, no not-so-innocent touches. Nothing.
Although he felt settled in some ways, he was lively in others. He wanted Isaac something fierce and couldn’t decide how to make it happen. Every time his thoughts turned to the idea of pushing things to make Isaac snap, his brain reminded him that Isaac knew what he was doing. His heart didn’t agree, though.
When he drove home after dropping the leftover uniforms back at the warehouse, he was ready to hibernate for the weekend. Forget going out anywhere, he was going to hide away and get centred once more.
Unfortunately, someone else had other ideas.
Henley was submerged in a luxuriously hot bath with plenty of lavender bubbles when someone knocked on his front door. At first, Henley ignored them. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and those who he wanted to see had a key and could let themselves in. But when the knocking continued and his phone began ringing, he realised he needed to sort it so he could get back to his bath.
Grumbling when the cool air hit his overheated skin, Henley draped a dressing gown around him, and dripping, went to the door.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“Open the door, Henley.”
Henley quickly unlocked the door and opened it wide, eyebrows raised at his unexpected visitor.
“Can I come in? I don’t want you catching a chill.”
Henley nodded, and Isaac manoeuvred past him into the hallway.
“I’ve brought some dinner. Why don’t you finish your bath or shower? It will be ready for when you’ve finished.”
“Okay.”
He watched as Isaac’s gaze roamed across his face and down to his bare feet and back up again. “Go on. Enjoy the water.”
“Yes.” Henley drifted to the stairs before turning back with his hand on the bannister. “Thank you, Daddy,” he whispered, tears threatening to fall.
“You’re welcome. Go. Enjoy.”
Henley climbed the stairs, careful of his wet feet, and slowly sank back into the warmth. He couldn’t believe Isaac was at his house, making dinner. Or maybe he was just serving it, he wasn’t sure, but regardless, Isaac was in his house.
Trying to relax when the object of his affection was on the floor below him was next to impossible, but the heat seeping into his muscles did the trick until a knock on the bathroom door.
“Yes?”
“Would you like something to drink?” Isaac called.
If he answered yes, Isaac would come in while he was in the bath. If he answered no, Isaac would go back downstairs. If Isaac wanted to take things slow, why would he ask to come in when Henley was only dressed in bubbles?
“Henley? It’s not a trick question.” There was humour in his tone.
Taking a breath, he answered, “Yes, please.”
Watching as the door handle turned, Henley swallowed hard, trying to affect a calm appearance when, in fact, his heart was racing. Isaac entered, holding a beer bottle and a glass of water.
“I wasn’t sure which you would prefer.”
“Water, please.”
Isaac settled the bo
ttle on the sink and brought the glass to him, crouching next to the bath. “Let me hold it. Your hands will be slippery.”
Henley nodded, and Isaac rested the glass against his bottom lip. As Henley moulded his mouth to it, Isaac carefully tilted it, allowing the cool liquid to fill his mouth. Not realising how thirsty he had been, Henley gulped down several swallows before locking gazes with Isaac and lifting his head. A small drop dripped onto his warmed skin, causing his breath to hitch, and Isaac wiped it away with his finger.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Dinner is ready as soon as you are. Don’t rush, though. Enjoy yourself.” Isaac stood, turning away from Henley, and Henley felt a moment of panic.
“Stay!”
Grey eyes met his, and Isaac must have seen something in his expression because he laid a folded towel on the toilet seat and sat, resting his elbows on his knees.
They were silent for a long while, and when the bath had cooled enough that Henley developed goosebumps, he decided he’d had enough.
“I’m finished.”
“Have you washed?” Isaac asked, sitting upright.
“Yes. I always wash first and relax when I’m done.”
Isaac smiled. “My clever boy.”
Henley didn’t think he would ever get tired of hearing that.
“Come on. Let’s get you dry.”
Isaac lifted another towel off the radiator and held it out for Henley, who had a moment of indecision before pulling the plug and standing up. The water flowed off him like a waterfall, and he refused to meet Isaac’s gaze, not wanting to see disappointment or lust. He couldn’t handle either now as bare as he was, physically and emotionally.
With Isaac towelling him off in a no-nonsense manner, Henley felt more secure, and once the towel was wrapped around his waist, he found his equilibrium again.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
Isaac leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. Why don’t you go and get dressed—pyjama bottoms or joggers and a t-shirt would be good—and come down and meet me in the kitchen.”
“Okay.”
Picking up the half-empty glass and the full beer bottle, Isaac gave a half-smile before exiting the room.
Henley inhaled and exhaled slowly before following. As he passed the stairs, he saw Isaac was already at the bottom, and Henley smiled as he continued to his room. Entering his space always soothed him. Painted light blue walls, and royal blue curtains and duvet cover matched well with the pine floorboards and furniture. He loved his room. It never failed to calm his excitable nature and was the perfect place to fall asleep.
The drawers contained his trousers and pyjamas, so he chose his favourite pyjama bottoms: dark blue flannel with Tweety Pie on them. They were a gift from Becca a few years ago when she started calling him “sweetie pie,” and he’d misheard her and asked why she was calling him Tweety Pie. Soon after that, the pyjamas appeared. They made him smile every time.
Flinging the towel towards the washing basket, Henley pulled them on, going commando underneath. He didn’t usually wear a t-shirt when he was at home, but Isaac had asked him to, so he slid on a light grey round-neck one.
He checked his hair in the mirror, running his fingers through it to tidy it up and reminding himself he needed to dye his hair again soon. The blue colour was beginning to fade. He wasn’t sure what colour he would go for next. Maybe he could ask Isaac.
Thinking of Isaac had him hurrying out of his room and down the stairs. The kitchen smelled heavenly, and as he entered, he saw the table had been set for two with candles in the middle.
“Feeling better after your bath?” Isaac asked over his shoulder.
“Yes, thank you. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”
Isaac smiled as he pivoted towards him, carrying two plates. “It’s no trouble. Anyway, you know I like to look after you.” He set the plates down. “Sit down, sweetheart. What would you like to drink?”
“Would I be allowed some juice, please?”
“Of course. Good choice.” Isaac filled a small glass and placed it in front of Henley. “We can’t have dinner out or takeaways too often, but we’ve had a busy week, so I thought this would be good for us.”
“It’s wonderful. Thank you, Daddy.” Henley was feeling a lot more confident in using the word and accepting that someone else wanted to look after him. He knew his family did, but this was different. Sometimes it seemed wrong that another adult took care of him in ways that he should be able to do for himself. But he reminded himself, it wasn’t that he couldn’t do it, he enjoyed allowing someone else to do so only if they enjoyed doing it. It was a difficult concept for some people to understand when, as children, they were taught to become independent and self-sufficient.
They spoke about little things while they ate, enjoying the calm atmosphere after a hectic week at work. The closer Henley came to finishing his food, the more distracted he became about what would happen afterwards. He wanted them to take this further tonight, but after last weekend, he didn’t dare to hope. Isaac turned the conversation to their relationship.
“So, we talked a bit about what I want from us. What do you want?”
“I want someone to help me be me, without the fallouts I usually get from when I become overexuberant or excitable. When I get like that, I can’t control what happens. I’d like someone to help me to learn control, even if it’s through obeying the rules they have set. I need the rigidity of it, I think.”
Isaac nodded. “You’ve thought about this. I’m glad.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and reaching one hand forward to encircle his glass. “What about punishments? I know you’re okay with spankings. What else?”
****
Chapter 8
Isaac
Isaac watched Henley’s cheeks colour as he studied his plate.
“I like it when my Daddy controls everything.”
He waited for more information to come, but nothing did. “What do you mean by everything?”
Isaac couldn’t attempt to dissect that sentence. He needed it broken down for him. It was too important to get wrong.
“I like being told what and when to eat and how much. Sometimes, I find I either miss meals or eat too much. There doesn’t seem to be any middle ground. I also like it when I’m not allowed to orgasm without Daddy saying I can. I like it when he tells me what punishments I can take and what I can’t.”
Surprise flared through him at the punishments statement. “Alright. We would need to decide on your hard limits, though. That’s non-negotiable.” He knew Henley needed structure in his life. Consideration needed to be given to his family, work and friends. He didn’t want to take anything away from Henley; Isaac wanted to enrich what he had and make his life more settled.
“Okay.”
“Let me clean up and we’ll go watch a movie.” Isaac stood, picking up their finished plates and taking them over to the dishwasher. “You finish your juice. Would you like any ice cream for your dessert?”
Isaac rested a hip against the counter while he waited for Henley’s answer, watching as his mouth curved into a beautiful smile.
“You have ice cream?” Henley questioned, eyes sparkling.
“I do. Cookie dough or chocolate brownie? I think maybe cookie dough would be a good choice this evening.”
“Perfect.”
Isaac filled a small bowl and placed it in front of Henley, holding out a spoon.
“Thanks, Daddy.”
His hand reached forward to rub over Henley’s hair, and he smiled when Henley pushed into it. He liked being petted. Isaac filed that away for future reference.
Returning to the dishwasher, Isaac filled it and, by the time he was ready to set it going, Henley had finished and brought the bowl to him.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” He put the last items in and started it. “Right, let’s go see what’s on TV.”
The living room was surpri
singly spotless, as it had been the previous weekend when he’d had a chance to study it before their date. Knowing Henley as he did, he would’ve immediately assumed he had a chaotic house, but the whole house was in a similar tidy condition. Henley took good care of his home, which Isaac appreciated.
“What would you like to watch?”
“Could we watch Drag Race?” Henley asked with a hopeful look on his face.
Inwardly cringing, Isaac agreed. He was never one for watching reality-style shows, preferring to watch documentaries instead, but if Henley enjoyed them, he would learn to live with it. Sometimes.
Isaac sat in the corner of the sofa and patted the seat next to him. Beaming, Henley snuggled up beside him, his head resting on his shoulder as his legs curled up underneath him. Isaac picked up the remote from the side table and switched the TV on, passing it to Henley for him to find his programme. As it started up, Isaac found himself drifting. His hand leisurely rubbed up and down Henley’s arm, and he repeatedly caressed Henley’s hair with his cheek.
Henley squirmed and wriggled increasingly as time went on, and Isaac could feel his erection pressing into his thigh. He didn’t think Henley was even aware of what he was doing, but Isaac knew he needed rest, not getting worked up.
They watched two episodes of the show before Isaac deemed it enough and switched it off. “Come on. Time for bed.”
Hope lit Henley’s eyes, and Isaac fought a smile. Henley wasn’t getting what he thought he was, and Isaac could imagine what response he would get when Henley figured it out.
“Head up and get ready for bed. I will switch everything off down here and grab us some drinks. I’ll be up in a moment.”
Henley nodded and climbed the stairs. Isaac wanted to give Henley some time to sort himself out, especially this first time, but it chafed a bit because he wanted to be the one to help him. There would be time for that, though. As he ascended the stairs carrying two glasses of water, he contemplated Henley’s reaction to the plan for them to sleep and only sleep.
When he entered Henley’s bedroom, Henley was stood in the middle of the room, appearing a little lost.
“Is everything okay?” Isaac asked as he placed the drinks on the bedside table.
