Sawyer & Boyd Duo: MM age-play romance

by JP Sayle

  I’d noticed a furrow deepen between his eyes as I’d spoken, but he hadn't interrupted or shown any disgust so I kept on talking, hoping he’d understand that even though there was a part of me that was childlike, I was still a man. “I’m still a man, nothing changes that.”

  I stood there feeling exposed as he remained silent. I wasn’t sure that being so open was the right thing to do. My guts twisted into knots as the silence lengthened and Boyd continued to stare at me, his face not revealing what he was thinking.

  About to grab my wine to help with the dryness in my mouth, my hand fluttered back to my side as Boyd spoke. “Thank you for being so open. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to reveal something so private, so personal. You can trust me.”

  Opening my mouth to speak, I quickly closed it again and nodded at him when he held his hand up, indicating that I should let him finish.

  “I know it’s easy to say you can trust me, but I mean it, you can. And I’ll be honest with you. It’s a little difficult to get my head around how it all works…”

  He rubbed his beard, the rasping noise the only sound as I held my breath, waiting for him to continue. Was it too much for him? Had I forced too much information on him all at once?

  “I can almost hear your mind buzzing from here,” he said, humour dancing in his eyes before they turned serious again. “I just need a little time to process everything. Okay? I want to get to know you, to understand why I’m drawn to the idea of wanting to give you… what you want, what you need.”

  Those words turned my insides to jelly as his face remained serious.

  “Okay,” I answered with as much conviction as I could muster. What harm could there be in that?

  Boyd

  Clamping the piece of wood that required cutting to the workbench, I lifted the saw and started to cut where I'd drawn the line. I hoped that keeping busy would stop me from going over and over the evening I’d spent with Sawyer, two days earlier.

  How’s that working out for you?

  My hand tightened around the handle of the saw as I considered how unsuccessful that had been.

  I wasn’t sure about the ‘Daddy’ aspect of what he'd talked about, and no matter how many times I’d tried to imagine him calling me Daddy, I couldn’t envision how it would make me feel. Is that so? Then why did it burn a hole in your gut when he called Nathan, Daddy?

  My jaw clenched as my teeth ground together.

  There was something about Sawyer that triggered a need inside of me to take care of him, more than I’d ever felt with anyone else I’d ever dated. Was that part of it?

  What about Glenn? You took care of him, paid his bills and supported him so that he could stay at home and build his own business.

  Was that the same?

  I wasn’t wholly convinced it was, because the dynamic between Glenn and myself had been very different. We were both versatile and I knew damn well Sawyer would never want to be dominant if things progressed between us. There was also a significant age gap between us. He was only twenty-three, whereas I was coming up to forty. Would the age gap make a difference? The question I’d found myself ruminating over the most was how I should deal with a person, who, in essence, had two different sides to him? A ripple of apprehension slid down my spine at the thought of the minefield it could turn into.

  We’d only just started to scratch the surface of what it all really meant to him, or to me. With each new piece of information he gave me, I found I wanted to know more. Our work schedules had left us unable to message for the last two days. Thankfully, tonight, he wasn't working and he’d agreed to another date. He was coming to my home again, only this time he'd suggested cooking for me. My apprehension was replaced with fluttering excitement at the prospect of seeing him again.

  At the sound of a loud wolf whistle, I lifted my head to stare across the room at the culprit.

  “Boss, have you got a sec? I need a hand to align this bloody booth. I’m sure the fucking measurements were exact but now I can’t get the fucker to sit right,” Brett hollered from the other side of the bar.

  “Can’t you act like a normal civilised human being and just come and talk to me?” I was so used to Brett’s behaviour that my complaint carried very little heat. I dropped the saw onto the workbench and walked across the dusty floor. My gaze swept the room and I gave a heartfelt sigh. Even with the men doing double shifts to crack on with the work that could be done, we were running a few days behind schedule.

  We’d been hit by yet another snag. This time it was the specialist wooden flooring I’d ordered from Sweden. Somehow, it had ended up in Scotland, and then when it had finally arrived, it had been the wrong colour. We’d had to return the whole shipment and reorder, leaving us with a very tight deadline.

  The life of a contractor was never easy, but over the last few weeks I'd started to wonder why I fucking bothered. Raking my hand through my hair, I halted and eyed the wooden booth that still required leather upholstery. That was something else that had been delayed because the company had informed me that we’d requested a change of date. The universe was clearly trying to fuck with me and I had no idea why.

  “Okay, what seems to be the problem?”

  Brett wiped his sweaty brow and scowled at the wooden booth. “The measurements were perfect so this should fit into that corner, but it doesn't. The far end is jutting out. I’ve tried everything and nothing seems to work.”

  I grabbed the measuring tape off the counter and started to work through the figures he'd written down, as well as the dimensions of the booth he’d made. They married perfectly. I eyed the wall and my heart sank. I stepped closer, dread filling me. Brushing my hand down the wall, I looked at Brett. “Did you do anything to this wall?” If I wasn’t mistaken, the wall cavity was bulging and it felt wet.

  “Nah, why would I do something to the wall? What’s wrong with it?” he asked as he stepped closer, his gaze narrowing to where I was touching the plaster.

  “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here, but someone is definitely trying to sabotage this bloody job!” I growled through gritted teeth. “This wall feels wet and it’s bulging, so that’s why the booth won’t fit.”

  Brett’s eyes went wide as he looked around the room at the other men working there, his face darkening with suspicion. He’d been my foreman for more than ten years and I trusted him implicitly. The building trade could be a cutthroat business, but I’d always been fair and loyal to my employees, which meant I kept my men. But there were always a few transient workers on every job I did, men that didn’t stick around for one reason or another.

  Mentally flipping through the men I’d employed for this specific job, I tried to figure out if I’d had any run-ins with the newbies. “Someone is fucking with us and I’ve no idea why, but we need to find out before it gets any more out of hand. I’ll go up into the roof to see what’s what. Can you stay behind tonight so we can go through the plans to check if anything else is amiss?” I swallowed a sigh at the thought of having to cancel my plans with Sawyer.

  “Yeah, I can stay. No problem. I’ll come with you to look at the damage,” Brett offered, his voice distracted as he continued to stare at the men with distrust.

  I punched his arm. “Try not to be too obvious, man.” I laughed without humour. “It’s alright, I’ll go up and have a look and you keep your eye on things down here.” With that, I headed to the stairwell that led up to the space above the bar. I crawled into the tight area and got my bearings as I tried to figure out whereabouts the wall was situated.

  On my knees, I edged across the rafters, my gut twisting at the sight of several empty buckets, the cause of the pool of water above the damaged wall. Fuckers! The shitty bastards. I hope they rot in hell!

  As I stared down into the tiny gap where the insulation was, all I could see was wet slush. The several buckets of water added to the mix had turned the paper insulation into a sodden mess. I crawled back out and stood in the stairwell. With very l
ittle option, I yanked my phone from my back pocket and called Nathan.

  He picked up on the third ring. “Hello.”

  Not beating about the bush, I got straight to the point. “Nathan, it’s Boyd, can you come to the second-floor stairwell that leads to the space above the bar. I have a problem.”

  “Yeah, give me two minutes.” Nathan sounded pissed, but didn't ask any questions, a fact which I was grateful for because I wasn't sure who was with him, and at this point in time I wasn't sure who could be trusted.

  A few moments later, there was the sound of heavy footsteps and I looked over the railing to see Nathan coming up from the lower floor. His face was a stoic mask as he came up the final flight of stairs.

  “What the fuck is wrong now?” He demanded.

  “Someone is fucking with this job and I have no bloody idea why?” I raked my hands through my hair as I stared at Nathan’s distressed face. “There's been several fuck ups that could be passed off as just that. But now someone has taken it to the next level and dumped several buckets of water into the wall cavity causing the insulation to turn to mush and soak into the plaster. The wall is all out of alignment, which is what alerted me to the problem.”

  The more I said, the darker Nathan’s expression turned. A thundercloud didn’t look as menacing as Nathan did at that moment.

  “Why would someone want to mess with us?” His eyes narrowed, his voice seething with anger.

  That was the question I couldn’t answer. “I’ve no idea. We didn't have any problems when we built The Playroom, so this has come totally out of the blue. You don’t think it’s connected to that Devon guy, do you?” I asked tentatively.

  On New Year’s Eve, Nathan’s boyfriend Lenny and one of the club subs, Ferron, had been held captive in the basement by Ferron’s ex, Devon. It turned out that he didn’t like the fact that Ferron had dumped him after he’d beaten the crap out of him. But as far as I was aware, Devon was still in prison awaiting trial, which was supposed to happen sometime in June.

  “No… I don’t think so. Devon’s business partner has disappeared, but I think that’s more to do with the press hounding him for answers about Devon rather than anything else. Although, I suppose you never know. I’ve had Phil Knight overhaul our security, but I didn’t get him to look at the second floor because it wasn’t finished. Do you want me to call him now and see if we can get something rigged up to try and catch the bastard in the act?” Nathan was practically snarling by the time he’d finished talking, his face a deep red.

  With no other solution, I nodded. “I think we need to do something quickly. I’ve got Brett staying late after the guys have finished tonight. Do you think your guy Phil will be free to come at such short notice?”

  “There's only one way to find out,” Nathan answered as he pulled his phone from the pocket of his hoodie. A few seconds later, I stood listening as he spoke to the person on the other end of the phone, who I assumed had to be Phil.

  “Yeah, tonight if you can. It seems we have a saboteur in our ranks.” There were several "yeps" and "hmms" and then Nathan ended the call and tucked his phone away.

  “He’ll be here around six-thirty. Will that work for you?” Nathan asked.

  “It’s fine for me, and as I said, Brett has already agreed to stay. I’ll go and see if I can salvage the wall. I have a feeling I’m going to have to drill a bloody hole in it to get the insulation out and then redo the whole blasted thing again.” I sighed dejectedly, Nathan patting my shoulder.

  “We’ll find the bastard and I won’t hit you with the penalty clauses if we go past the deadline for opening.”

  His generous offer left me speechless for a minute, so I just nodded and offered a small smile.

  “Show me where the damage is.” As per Nathan’s request, we headed back up into the tiny space and I showed him the state of the wall cavity.

  We spent twenty minutes working to secure the space so that nothing more could happen up there and then I left to go back down to the bar.

  After checking the time, I signalled to Brett as I walked back into the bar. “Let the men go early. Say it’s a reward for the double shifts.” He gave me a nod before wandering off around the room to talk to them.

  As it wasn’t that unusual to let the guys have an early finish from time to time, I hoped it wouldn’t arouse suspicion. There were a few cheers, the noise level increasing and then decreasing as the room emptied. By the time everyone had left, I was already creating a mental list of the current jobs that would need to be checked in order to ensure that nothing else was amiss.

  As I walked over to one of the finished booths, my phone vibrated in my pocket. But before I could check the message, Brett hollered over, “Boss, shit! I think I’ve found another issue.”

  Cursing up a blue storm, I stomped across the room and walked around the bar. “What now?” I ground out through clenched teeth. My temples were starting to throb as I eyed Brett’s crestfallen expression. He pointed to the lower shelf and it took a minute before I could see what the issue was.

  My gaze narrowed on the back of the shelf where there should have been several pipes fitted for the specialist beer that would be housed in a cavity we’d already created for the kegs to sit in.

  “Where are the pipes? Didn’t they get fitted last week?” I rubbed my aching jaw as I shifted my gaze to Brett. Was I going mad? I was sure they’d been there last week.

  “They were fitted,” he stressed as his face turned an ugly shade of red. “The guy came from the company last week. Due to their specific requirement to pipe the beer, we had to book him six weeks in advance because he works freelance for the company. He travels all over the world due to the stuff being exported internationally.” Brett’s explanation caused my gut to twist into tighter knots.

  “Goddamn it!” Nathan growled, reminding me of his presence.

  I turned my attention to him. “I couldn’t have put that any better myself. This fucking stinks. We need to check to see if the pipes have been removed from the premises, because if they have your cameras might have caught who took them, right? They’re at the front and back of the building.”

  “What about the garage, do they cover that?” Brett asked, his eyes lighting up with menace. Nathan’s face was grim as he nodded. “Then we’d surely catch sight of the bastard?” Brett added with a hopeful smile.

  “We’ll do a search first. Then hopefully Nathan’s security guy will be here and we can go through the video footage and see if we can find anything. We know what date the guy fitted the pipes so we have a rough idea of when they might have been tampered with.”

  With that, we went off in different directions to start a search of the entire second floor. My phone rang, but distracted by the search, I let it go to voicemail.

  I was a sweaty, dirty mess by the time I finally sat down with Phil, Nathan and Brett. Nathan had found the pipes stashed behind an old container in the storeroom and although, I was pleased we’d found them, I was pissed that we still had no evidence to indicate who'd removed them in the first place.

  “Where does this leave us now?” I asked them.

  “I think we need to set up several cameras tonight and connect them to the mainframe so that Nathan can see what’s going on from his office. You’ll need someone you trust to monitor them when you’re not there. I think it’s probably the only way to catch someone in the act. From what Brett has told me, there are too many men to keep eyes on them all.” Phil glanced at me. “Brett mentioned things going awry with your orders. Can you talk me through them? I might be able to set up an email account that you can use so that I can monitor your emails and trace if anyone is messing with your orders.”

  By the time Phil had finished speaking, my heart rate had settled and the knots that had formed in my stomach were starting to undo. The throbbing in my temples continued, but I felt a smidgen better now that we had a plan in place.

  My phone rang and everyone stopped talking to look at me. I
shifted on the seat to dig it out, and without looking at the caller ID, I hit the speaker button. Before I could get a word out, there was an angry shout.

  “What do you think you’re playing at? I’ve been waiting outside your bloody house freezing my backside off for ages. You know that’s an arsehole thing to do, right? You can stick your date where the sun doesn’t shine. A fine Daddy you’d make!” With that, the phone went dead.

  I stared in horror at the blank screen, the sound of Sawyer’s tearful voice ringing in my ears.

  “Shit! Shit! I forgot to ring him and cancel.” I explained to no one in particular, avoiding making eye contact as I jumped out of my seat.

  My hands shook as I tried not to think about Sawyer’s reference to being a good Daddy as I quickly pulled up his number.

  Sawyer

  The bright blue sky was fading to a dusky pink as I cycled along the track that I’d discovered would take me directly to Boyd’s home. I’d got up early that morning and done a dry run to check where the house was before I’d headed to work. I wasn’t always good with directions so I liked to figure out where places were ahead of time.

  Due to the darkness and how captivated I'd been by Boyd’s home when I’d visited the first time, I’d not realised that there were only four houses in the large estate. Boyd’s was situated on the most prominent plot and tucked into a corner shielded by trees and shrubs which gave him complete privacy. He’d mentioned that he’d been interested in the piece of land I’d bought for my home, but when I’d questioned why he’d not bought it, he’d diverted the conversation to something else.