Sawyer & Boyd Duo: MM age-play romance

by JP Sayle

  Several minutes later, as I walked through his half-built house, I got the feeling that opting for casual friendliness had been a bit of a miscalculation.

  Sawyer’s demeanour had swiftly changed. His shoulders had slumped, giving me the impression that he wasn’t happy to see me. Had I left it too long?

  “—this, as I said, is totally messed up. The contractor decided to do something with the boards to make the existing frame sturdier.” Sawyer took hold of a beam and wobbled it. “But as you can see, all he did was make it worse.”

  I attempted to think over what he’d been saying before I’d lost track. Coming up empty, I sighed silently, mentally slapping my forehead for not paying attention. “Back up a bit and go over the first part again.” I gave him a smile and prayed he didn’t figure out I’d not been paying attention.

  When a scowl formed on his pretty face, and his lip poked out in the most adorable pout, I struggled with the need to give him a hug. Instead, I tagged on, “It’s just so I can clarify what you mean so I get it straight in my head.”

  “Whatever man,” he muttered, his booted feet clacking on the wood as he swung around and stomped off.

  I gave chase, catching hold of his arm as I opened my mouth to speak. Before I could utter one word, he swung back around so fast I was surprised he didn’t lose his footing. His arms came up into a defensive posture. What the fuck was this about?

  “Let go of my arm.”

  Hearing the steely thread in his normally soft, lyrical voice, I lifted up my hand and held it out in a gesture of surrender. All the while, my heartbeat worked to deafen me as it raced fast enough to make my ears buzz. “I swear I’d never hurt you, Sawyer. Never,” I stressed, needing him to believe me. Men who hit out are nothing but weak bullies and arseholes, and I would never have put myself in either category.

  His gaze searched my face, and I held my breath, until he dropped his arms back down to his sides. “Sorry, it’s just some guys…well, let’s just say I don’t like to be manhandled and leave it at that.”

  I wanted to argue, but the stiffness in his body as we stood staring at each other said now was not the time. The tension crackled between us and I wasn’t sure how to break it. I glanced about and my gaze landed on the blueprints he had retrieved. My eyes narrowed and I bit my lower lip.

  Could taking on the job show him I was trustworthy?

  Without overthinking it, I found myself speaking as I shifted my gaze back to him. “Do you still want me to give you a quote for the building work? I think this is a project my company could more than manage for you.” Sweat gathered in the middle of my back as he remained silent for what felt like an age but was probably no more than a minute at best.

  “Okay, you can quote me, and we’ll go from there.”

  I tried to ignore the sad tone in his voice as he went back over what he’d been talking about, making sure I kept my full attention on him this time.

  By the time I climbed into my van, dusk had fallen. As I went to shut the door, I heard Sawyer’s shed door creak open then close. Only then did I glance at the tiny place he called home and release a frustrated moan.

  It had taken nearly three hours to go through what had turned out to be the shittiest workmanship I’d ever seen. The cowboys that had taken advantage of Sawyer were top of my hit list. If I ever found the fuckers, I’d report them to the working standards commission for ripping him off for thousands of pounds.

  When Sawyer had bemoaned the builders he’d come into contact with, I’d thought he’d exaggerated. After an hour going over the existing work, I’d seen that, if anything, he’d underplayed the shoddy workmanship.

  It had taken that hour before he’d started to relax around me. Finally, my beautiful angel boy had shown himself as he giggled and joked with me. As he relaxed, he revealed more than I think he knew. There had been a yearning when he’d mentioned having a home of his own, about the vision he had in his mind. And by fuck, I wanted to give it to him. His need had left me defenceless, my heart left unprotected as I’d listened to him talk about the ethos behind his home. An ethos that matched my own perfectly, and I’d come to the realisation I wanted to give Sawyer what he wanted, but with one added extra: me.

  All I needed to do now was figure out how to achieve that.

  Simple, right? Then why did it feel like I was about to prepare to climb Mount Everest with no gear or training on how to breath at that altitude?

  You fucked up, now fix it!

  Chapter Two

  Sawyer

  With the quote clutched in my hand, I strode into my lawyer’s office. The scent of leather and expensive perfumes made my nose twitch as I walked up to the large white counter. It was manned by a snooty looking woman dressed in what were probably designer clothes. I did my best not to cower under her dismissive gaze.

  When I glanced down and caught sight of my mud stained clothes, I swallowed the sigh of frustration. Bugger! I’d forgotten to change after helping the builders clear the crap left lying around the garden into several skips. The last couple of weeks had given us nothing but rain, which for this time of the year was unusual, and explained why I looked like Peppa Pig when she jumped in muddy puddles.

  “How can I help you?” Her tone clearly indicated I’d come to the wrong place as her glacial eyes stared at me.

  “I’ve an appointment with Mr. Norris at twelve thirty. I’m Mr. Rowland.”

  Perfectly manicured nails in bold red tapped at the keyboard in front of her. Moments later, her eyes widened at the screen before she glanced back to me and I swallowed a chuckle.

  “Yes, yes I have you in the diary.”

  The fact she didn’t sound at all convinced prevented me from holding on to the laughter. I leant against the pristine, modern counter and gave her a cheeky wink. “It’s fine, I get it. I don’t look like the typical guy who has a high-priced lawyer.” I shrugged when her face became flushed. “I know the way, if you’ll let them know I’m on my way up, that would be cool.” With that, I nodded and strolled over the white tiled floor, wondering how they managed to keep it clean.

  I’d been a client of Mr. Norris for the last couple of years, ever since I came into my inheritance. Unfortunately, that meant I’d had to visit the building quite a lot. It was one of those modernist ones that was all sharp angles, with gleaming white, black, and chrome surfaces everywhere you looked.

  The first time I’d come to see Mr. Norris, I’d had nightmares about it for weeks afterwards. The very idea of spending hours staring at white walls, black floors, and chrome counters all day would do my nut in.

  The two other people that joined me in the chrome lift sidled back against the walls like they might catch something from me. The imp on my shoulder pushed at me, so I stepped closer to the man in the three-piece, pinstripe suit. He looked like he was holding his breath, so I gave a discreet sniff.

  Oh man, I stank worse than week old garbage. This time my sigh escaped, and I took a step back, not wanting anyone to get a good whiff of me.

  By the time I got to Mr. Norris’s office, I’d blocked out the odd looks and several head turns because they weren’t that unusual. Only today, I wasn’t sure if it was my hair, my clothes, or the smell that was drawing attention.

  My feet made no noise as I strode over thick black carpet to the office at the end of the white walled corridor. I was surprised when Mr. Norris’s secretary, Shelia, glanced up from her desk as I arrived, until I remembered I stank. The warmth in the building wasn’t helping my cause as I started to sweat under my coat.

  Her suit today was a deep yellow, paired with a shirt in the same colour, the whole outfit making her look like a jar of mustard. Only, the lid on the top was a puff ball of dyed brown hair. As always, her smile was friendly, even when her eyes took in what I was wearing.

  I gave her an apologetic smile. “Hey Shelia, I got a little caught up today so I’m not at my finest.”

  “Now Sawyer, how long have we known each other?”
Her head tilted to the side, her puffball hair not moving a millimetre out of place. Her lips twitched, shortly followed by her nose.

  “Yeah, yeah. You know I’ve no time or energy to waste on clothes.”

  “That may be so…but water and soap, they really do need time and energy,” she countered back, as quick as a flash.

  Not at all offended, as we’d bantered like this since we’d got to know each other, laughter rippled out of me and I nodded. “You got me there. I didn’t realise how bad I smelt till I got in the lift.” I shrugged. “Not much I can do about it now. I’ll just have to hope that Mr. Norris has no sense of smell, or gets done quickly, so he doesn’t have to put up with my smelly arse.”

  “He’s ready to see you, so go on through,” she encouraged as I blew her a kiss.

  “You just want rid of me, but that’s okay, I’m in a rush today.” And I was, because Boyd was coming to do a site inspection later and finalise the paperwork. It was why I’d been forced to make an appointment to see Mr. Norris, so I could get the money transferred into my account. Boyd’s firm required a ten percent up-front fee to start the work.

  I was going to get my dream home because, this time, it was going to be different. Excitement buzzed through me and I tried to pretend it had nothing to do with Boyd’s visit and everything to do with thoughts of finally seeing my house finished.

  I gave Shelia a wave as I politely knocked on Mr. Norris’s door, then entered when he called “Come in.”

  He was an imposing man with a stern face that often made my little side feel like he was being told off, not that the other side of me didn’t feel the same. I gave him a smile he didn’t acknowledge as he pointed to the thick, leather padded seats in front of his large, black desk. The polished wood had not a thing out of place and gleamed, showing there wasn’t even a speck of dust on it.

  How do people manage that?

  My place was always dusty. Okay, I didn’t go a whole heap of cleaning because what was the point when I lived in a shed?

  “Have a seat, Mr. Rowland. Do you have the paperwork I requested?” His voice was deep and authoritative as he got straight to the point.

  I’d got used to his brusque manner, which fitted with his appearance. An appearance that seemed to blend in with the white and black colour scheme of the building. He sometimes reminded me more of an undertaker, but I kept that thought to myself after I’d slipped up and mentioned it to my mother when we’d first come to the office together.

  She’d given me one of her disapproving looks, so I’d shut up and remained silent throughout that first meeting where she’d decided he’d continue to look after my inheritance. My grandparents wanted me to have freedom but were still worried about me being taken advantage of after living in a commune most of my life, so mum had been nominated as one of my Trustees. They thought that I’d be gullible and, at times, I’ll admit I could be. So even though I’d complained about having hoops to jump through to get my money, I also understood it was because they wanted to protect me from unscrupulous people.

  That, however, didn’t seem to work when it came to bloody builders, which is why I was here today, having to see Mr. Norris to ask for more money. The money I’d originally requested was mostly gone, to builders who apparently saw that I had mug written on my forehead.

  Shaking off the negative thoughts, I placed the file I had with all the quotes on his desk, within his reach. His dark eyes observed me for a moment before he lifted the file and opened it as I took the seat right in front of him.

  My hands twisted together nervously in my lap. “That is all the costings for the remaining building to be completed. I’ve tried to figure in any additional costs but left out the quotes for soft furnishings. I’m not sure what I’ll want in that regard until I see it complete and walk through it.” I had ideas but I didn’t want to rush into anything. With the exception of a bed, I wanted a big bed that didn’t have a lumpy mattress.

  “I’ve checked the file you gave me before you came and some of these costs you’ve quoted here have already been accounted for in previous payments into your bank.”

  His tone wasn’t accusatory as such, but that’s how it sounded to me and I swallowed hard. “I explained that in my email to you. Those other builders were fu…were not good.” I caught myself from swearing as his brow rose and heat filled my face. This was why I hated coming, the man’s ability to make me feel like I was clueless was unavoidable and my little wanted to stamp his foot.

  “Yes, Mr. Rowland, I got your email. But there was very little detail in it. Part of my role as your lawyer is to try and protect you and your assets.”

  I barely resisted rolling my eyes at him and counted to ten in my head. “Okay, let’s go through the file and I’ll explain what happened.”

  Two hours later, Mr. Norris’s office was more than a little whiffy as I’d got hot under the collar at all his questions. Whatever satisfaction I might have had from all the funds I needed being transferred into my account in the next few days, was lost under the heavy balls of anxiety that had formed in my gut. My little was not happy and just wanted to curl up with my blankie and hide from the world.

  Adding to my woes, as I retrieved my bike I frantically searched my jacket and came to the realisation that I’d left my phone at home in my rush to get to the appointment. Tears blurred my vision. Bugger!

  With no way of contacting Boyd to let him know I was now running late, I cycled through London like a bat out of hell, aware that I’d probably miss him. It had been four days since I’d last seen him and right now, with the need to have someone take care of me, I wanted more than anything for it to be Boyd.

  Stupid, stupid, really bloody stupid. I chastised myself while I weaved through the traffic, pretending not to hear the several horns blasting at me. Sweat dripped down my back and it gathered at my hairline under my cycle helmet, sticking my hair to my head.

  The muscles in my legs burned, as did my lungs while I struggled to suck in some much needed oxygen. My heartrate had probably hit an all-time high by the time I got to my driveway and saw it was empty. “Fucking…shit!” I wheezed as I came to a stop and leant over the top of my handlebars, my feet trying to hold up my wobbly legs and exhausted body.

  The cool afternoon air didn’t take long to chill my body as it whipped through the holes in my threadbare jeans. Shivering as the sweat dried against my skin, I lifted my leg and dismounted my bike. I drew in a couple of deep breaths, enjoying air that was not full of exhaust fumes, and steadied myself before attempting to put my bike away.

  With my bike locked away and my body begging for a shower, I turned towards my home when the sound of an engine was followed by the sight of Boyd’s truck appearing a moment later, heading down my drive.

  My heart rate, that had started to slow, picked right back up while I shoved my shaking hands into my jacket pocket. The movement caused a waft of scent to rise and I groaned aloud. “Buggering to all hell!”

  Why did I have to stink like a skunk?

  Chapter Three

  Boyd

  The day had turned to utter shit and the power drill hammering at my skull proved it. Right now, I would have sold my soul for a couple of paracetamol just to make it fucking stop. If there was ever a day I wanted to go back and start again, this was top of the list. First there was another fuck up with an email order and Phil, unfortunately, hadn’t been available to take my call to talk about tracking down the fucker that was playing silly beggars with me.

  It had taken two hours of my precious time to get through to someone in the company to explain there’d been a mix up with my order. That had been followed by taking an hour to talk Brett off the ceiling and that didn’t account for the time I’d had to spend with the men he’d pissed off by losing his cool.

  Then, right out of the blue, my ex, Glenn, had called to ask if he could meet to talk. For some reason, he’d thought I’d drop everything and come running. I could still hear the shock in his voice when
I told him we didn’t have anything to discuss, so what was the point in meeting? That had resulted in an ear blasting I’d really not needed and had been the final straw on the camel’s back when it had led to me being late to meet Sawyer.

  Four days I’d not seen him for, not that I was counting. Alright I was, and it didn’t escape my attention how much of the time, even when we were apart, that I spent thinking about him. My plan to try and get back to where we’d been before I’d needed time to think was slow going. I’d discovered quickly that if he had time off, I was working, and vice versa. How do you try and date someone without them figuring that’s what you’re doing?

  You stop acting like a moron and just ask Sawyer out is what you do.

  I heaved a put-upon sigh and paid attention to the traffic. Thankfully that, at least, was being co-operative, so I was only going to be half an hour late.

  My head continued to pound as I pulled into Sawyer’s drive, hoping that he’d got my message to explain why I was running late. My breath caught in my chest as I saw him stood in the middle of what would eventually be his driveway. His face was red and gleamed in the glow of the late afternoon sun. His rainbow hair was stuck to his forehead as he clutched at his helmet. My brow furrowed. Had he been out cycling?

  For the first time that day, I chuckled, as my gaze swept over his attire. Sawyer looked like he’d been in a mud fight with someone and come out the loser. I was reminded that the men had been clearing the site, ready for the deliveries to start arriving in the next few days. Had he been helping? Then why was he clutching his bike helmet?

  Unable to think past the throbbing in my head to recall what Sawyer’s schedule was today, I switched the engine off and climbed out of the truck. I rubbed at my temples while I glanced over to the half-built house and was pleased to note all the crap lying around the site was gone. I tried not to dwell on all the building material that we’d found to be substandard and had needed binning. Or how upset Sawyer had been as I’d explained we couldn’t use a good chunk of what the other builders had bought because it was, in a word, crap.