by Jodi Payne
Calm? He wasn’t sure he had any calm in him tonight. Not anymore. But Brian was cool to come get him, and he didn’t want to get in more trouble. Thank God he was over eighteen, they used to hold him and try to call his parents.
“Mr. Richards?”
“Oh! Over here, sir.” Brian called out.
Nikki turned around, holding the ice on his aching knuckles. “Can I go home, please?”
“This is a copy of your paperwork. If we need to contact you, we’ll use the number you put down there. Take care of that hand and have a good night.”
Brian took all the paperwork for him. “Thank you, officer. You too.”
Nikki really hoped they wouldn’t need to contact him. He just wanted to forget tonight even happened. All of it. Everything.
Brian put an arm around his waist and led him outside into the rain. It was pouring now. “God, what an awful night for all of this.”
“I don’t think there’s such a thing as a good one.”
Brian pulled him under an awning and brushed his wet bangs out of his eyes “I guess not.”
“I’m fucking humiliated, Brian. And I…I had a bad night.”
“I wasn’t sure whether or not I should ask. I thought I’d at least find us a cab first. Everything looked great at the party. What happened?”
“Bradford is pissed off at me. I blew it.”
“No way. Master Bradford’s not mad at you. He doesn’t really get mad.”
“Well, he was pissed this time. He snapped at me. Shouted.” He sighed. “I guess I deserved it, but still.”
Brian looked at him, wide-eyed. “Master Bradford? Shouted? I just don’t see—”
“I wanted him.” They were shouting at each other over the heavy rain hitting the awning over their heads, but it was better than standing out in it. “I wanted him to fuck me, Brian, but it wasn’t in our agreement. I didn’t realize and then I used my safe word and ended the scene so we could—but I guess that’s not how it works, either. I really fucked up. I just wanted—” He’d wanted Bradford. He was floating, high as a kite, but he knew what he wanted. He still knew even now.
“Oh, Nikki.” Brian put an arm around his shoulders. “That’s why you didn’t call Master Bradford? That’s why you called me instead?”
“I left. I had to get out of there. I can’t go back.”
Brian didn’t say anything about that, thankfully. He just did what a good friend would do. “You can stay with me.”
Nikki nodded, grateful. “Thanks, Brian. I really appreciate that.”
“But Nikki, I think maybe it’s just a misunderstanding. Master Bradford cares about you. I think you should talk to him”
“Not tonight.” He needed to think.
“That’s fine. I understand.” Brian left him there and went to flag down a cab, and by the time one pulled up, the poor guy was soaked. Brian didn’t complain at all, just held the door for him and climbed in after.
“You’re a mess, Brian. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not a mess. I’m just wet. Are you okay?” Brian took his hand and held the ice on it for him. The guy was so sweet. Just genuinely kind. He hadn’t met very many people like that.
“I’m…getting to okay.”
“Nikki, I promise you, a bad scene isn’t a reason to give up on Master Bradford. He’s been doing this a long time. He’s seen everything. He’s always been so good to me.”
He sighed. “We’ll see. I have to work on Tuesday.”
“So you’ll come back to work?”
“Unless he fires me. I need the job.” Especially if he was going to have to find a place of his own.
The cab ride didn’t take long, and soon he was sitting on Brian’s couch in borrowed sweats, his hand wrapped in gauze and drinking a cup of hot cocoa. “Thanks again, Brian.”
“I’m really glad you called me. I’m glad you trust me.” Brian laid a pillow and a couple of blankets on the couch next to him.
“We’re friends.”
Brian smiled at him. “I think so, but sometimes it’s hard to really know with other subs.”
“We’re friends,” Nikki said again to make his point. “And I appreciate that you went out of your way at a stupid hour in the rain to help me.”
Brian sat and put an arm around him. “I’m glad you’re okay. That was kind of a scary phone call to get.”
It had been a scary night. From the first moment he realized he’d done something wrong to when Brian finally showed up. The whole night had been bad choices, one after another. Bradford would never forgive him.
Never.
20
“Goddamnit, boy.” Bradford paced the length of his library, long strides covering ground so quickly that he gave up on back and forth and made it a loop. Past the sofa, around the armchair along the long wall that housed Harrison’s book collection, past the antique desk he’d brought in last year, and along the short wall with the tall windows that looked out onto a gray morning.
Apart from being frantic about his boy—the boy, not his boy, the boy—he was wrestling with a bubbling cauldron of other unpleasant emotions this morning, and the mix was so potent he couldn’t manage to separate them all. Frustration. Exasperation. Melancholy.
Loneliness.
“Dammit.”
Had he made a mistake? Should he have made a different decision in the moment?
There was a knock at the door, and he looked up, only then realizing that he’d stopped pacing and was staring out the window at the damp street.
“Come in.” He knew it would be Levi; the boy was the only one he’d confided in thus far about Nikki, and the only one he’d called this morning. “Tell me you have news.”
“Yes, sir.” Levi walked right to him and knelt at his feet. “Nikki stayed the night at Brian’s apartment, he’s there now. Brian says he is sleeping and otherwise fine.”
“Did you ask Brian to bring him to me?”
“I did, but Brian says that Nikki specifically asked him not to tell you where he is and that he doesn’t want to return to the brownstone.”
“I see.” That wasn’t so surprising. But it was goddamn disappointing.
“Is there anything else I can do, sir?” Levi was a good boy. So loyal.
“No, I’m afraid there likely isn’t. But I do appreciate your offer, boy. If I think of anything. I will send for you. In the meantime, this remains between us. All right?”
He didn’t need a hundred questions or looks from other subs.
“Of course, sir.” The boy tried not to sound disappointed, but he knew Levi wanted to stay. Perhaps later. He needed to think about this for a while.
He touched Levi’s cheek. “Thank you, boy. You may go. Do let me know if you hear anything more.”
“Yes, sir. I will.” Levi stood and marched himself back out of the library.
Bradford looked out the window again, wondering what would happen if he picked up his phone and called Brian himself. Would Nikki really refuse to speak to him?
He sighed. That was the prevailing issue, he knew. Doubt. Had he done the right thing by refusing Nikki? Was he too old-fashioned? Were his expectations too high? Was he just a stupid old fool?
He was rarely in doubt. It was the most…uncomfortable feeling to be second-guessing himself.
Uncomfortable to say the least. It was…perturbing. It was bordering on torment.
So there, Harry. I’m a walking thesaurus now.
Harrison would have had the answer of course; his lover always had. It was entirely possible, of course, that Harrison’s answer would have been to chastise him for allowing himself to become so smitten with such a lovely young sub in the first place.
But I wouldn’t want Nikki the way I do if I still had you, my love.
“I know, Dear Heart.”
Bradford sighed and let his eyes close.
“You can’t just give up, Harry.”
The hospital room where Harrison had been for the last month was decorat
ed with cards and flowers sent by members of the club and gifts from the care packages the subs put together every week. They were surrounded by so much support, so many friends. Why wasn’t it enough?
It ought to have been enough.
“Yes, I can, love.” Harrison licked his lips, and Bradford reached for the water. “I can make that decision, and I have.”
Bradford filled a cup and put a straw in it, then held the straw to his lover’s lips. Harrison looked so small now, so much older than his years, so much weaker than Bradford would ever have ever thought possible. Harrison had always been a lion to him.
“But I need you.”
Harrison’s dry laugh stung. “Oh, no, my own. You don’t. You’ve been running the club on your own, it’s yours already. You’ll be—”
“I wasn’t talking about the club.” Damn the club, he’d trade it in a heartbeat for his husband.
Harrison took his hand. “I know. I need you too. I need you to accept that this is my decision and that it doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”
“Harry—”
Harrison reached out and took his hand, fingers bony and cold. “I can’t anymore, love. Please, I need you to understand. I’ve had enough. I want to enjoy the time I have left. I want to spend it with you. At home.”
He searched Harrison’s eyes and sighed. “I understand.”
That was the only lie he’d ever told Harrison, but it was what his husband needed to hear just then, and he was wise enough to understand that. It would be true soon; he’d come to terms with what his husband was asking of him. He’d make sure it wasn’t a lie for long.
They brought Harrison home the next afternoon and put him on a tiny dose of morphine that eased his pain and calmed his labored breathing. Harrison never got out of bed again, but they had a few more weeks together. Good weeks, full of talking and reading. Movies. Music.
Until that certain rainy, chilly Thursday evening when Harrison declined to play cards and took his hand again.
“Bradford. I’m tired, Dear Heart. I’m going to sleep now.”
Bradford had spent enough time talking with Harrison, listening to his husband, that he finally understood. The treatments in the hospital might have given them some short-term hope, but long-term they were killing Harrison’s soul. Here in the brownstone, Harrison had love and friends, good food and his own bed, and he’d been comfortable and happy the last few weeks.
Bradford had known the moment would come, and he’d known it would be too soon. He wasn’t ready, but that was as it should be. No one should feel ready to let someone they love go forever. But he had finally accepted that it had to be. He could welcome peace for his husband.
“It’s all right, Harry. You can sleep. I love you.” He kissed Harrison’s lips as his husband closed those beautiful hazel eyes for good.
Bradford took two slow steps toward his favorite chair and sat in it heavily. He tried to imagine who he’d be if Harrison hadn’t pulled him off the street years ago, but there was no way of knowing. He liked to believe he’d have a roof over his head at least, be responsible and working somewhere, surrounding himself with like-minded people. But he wouldn’t have the club, the higher understanding of what and who he was and still could be, the privilege…and he wouldn’t have had a husband who believed in him.
Of all those things he knew he’d be missing, having someone who believed in him was the most important thing of all. That realization made the answer to what he needed to do very clear.
He believed in Nikki.
The boy was young and rash and impulsive—all the things that defined being twenty—but also beautiful and smart and a natural sub.
He had no intention of giving up on the boy or punishing him for an honest mistake. But more to the point, he wasn’t going to let Nikki give up on himself.
He went to the antique desk, picked up the phone and dialed Levi.
“Hello, sir. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, yes. Fine, Levi, thank you.”
“What can I do for you, sir?” Levi sounded so eager.
“Get Brian on the phone, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bradford stood up, intending to pour himself a drink, but remembered the time and went back to his chair. Just his luck he’d have a crisis that required bourbon before noon.
Bradford sat, and waited.
And waited.
When the phone finally rang, he was about ready to tell Levi never mind, but it was Nikki on the line.
“Hello, Bradford.”
He held the phone away from his face and sighed so Nikki wouldn’t hear. Bradford, he noted, not Sir.
“Good afternoon. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I am.”
Of all the things Nikki could have said to him, those were the most important, and Nikki had to know that, because there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm. “Thank you, boy. I’m very relieved to hear that.”
“I’m…I…” Nikki’s sigh seemed almost painful.
Poor boy. “I was relieved to hear that Brian has been looking after you.”
“I don’t need looking after,” Nikki snapped.
“No. No, I’m sorry. That’s not precisely what I—”
“I can take care of myself, you know. I did for a long time.”
Yes, he remembered that skinny boy without enough money for a granola bar, and whom he later discovered was sleeping next to his dumpster. Nikki had been surviving—the boy was still learning the difference between that and taking care.
“I only meant it was good you’d found a friend and a safe place to stay last night.”
But now you need to come home.
“Oh.” Nikki sighed into the phone. “Well, yeah. Brian’s a good friend.”
“He’s a good boy. I’m glad you have him. But I am sincerely hoping you’ll come home today. Perhaps you’d like to have a quiet, private dinner with me?”
Nikki snorted. “Home.”
“The brownstone. Home. Yes.”
“Is it home, though?”
“Isn’t it?” Well. This conversation was marvelously awkward.
“I was upset. I’m still upset.”
“That’s okay. Upset doesn’t mean you don’t belong here. We both were thrown.”
“Thrown?”
“Nikki. Why don’t you tell me about it when you get here?” As always, he chose his words carefully. When you get here. Not if, when. “I will listen, I promise.”
“But…aren’t you angry?”
“I am not. Not in the least.” Worried, shaken, but not angry.
“Why not?”
Goodness, the boy was hard on himself. “My boy. I have no reason to be angry with you. I’ve failed you, not the other way around.”
“But I…”
The line went silent for a long while, and Bradford finally had to break it to save his own sanity. “Are you there?”
There was a fumbling on the line, some quiet words, and then Brian answered him.
“It’s Brian, sir. Nikki is…he’s…I’ll bring him to you soon, Master Bradford.”
“Thank you. You’re a good boy, Brian. Please feel free to eat in the dining room tonight. I’ll let Levi know.”
“Thank you, sir. We’ll see you soon, sir.”
The line went dead.
Bradford hung up and looked at the phone, remembering the first intimate night he spent with Harrison. It was different certainly, as they were both Doms and they didn’t play together, but the parallel was too obvious to ignore. He’d never anticipated following his husband’s example—helping Nikki off the street and teaching the boy to be more than Nikki had ever imagined—but here he was. Here they were. He was infatuated, inspired by Nikki’s progress and depth, and it felt good. It had been so long.
He called Levi back and arranged for dinner to be brought to them later and kept warm in the brownstone’s comfortable kitchen; then he took a quick shower and shaved, making himself presentable for h
is boy.
He went to his office, thinking that was a more neutral private space than the brownstone, and Brian brought Nikki right to him, keeping protectively close behind Nikki’s shoulder as Nikki approached him. The boy looked exhausted and anxious to a degree he hadn’t observed since their first encounter in the coffee shop.
His palms itched. He was eager to pull Nikki to him, assure himself the boy was whole, tell Nikki how worried he’d been. But he kept his tone gentle and his hands to himself, both entirely contrary to his desire, ever the master of his own impulses. “Hello, boy.”
“Hi…sir.” Nikki’s voice was hoarse and tired too.
He was grateful to Brian for looking after Nikki but now it was time to be alone with the boy. “Thank you for bringing him to me, Brian.”
“Nikki, do you want me to stay?” Oh. Good boy. Bradford was so proud of Brian, but that didn’t stop him from hoping that Nikki would decline.
“I’m all right, Brian. Thank you so much for everything.” Nikki gave Brian a quick kiss on the cheek, and Brian hugged the boy hard.
“Call me, okay?”
“I will. Promise.” The look that passed between the two subs said more than words could. Bradford respected that sort of bond.
“Good to see you, sir.”
Bradford walked Brian to the door. “I’m very proud of you for being such a good friend and taking care of one of our own. Again.”
Brian nodded. “It’s my pleasure to be of service, sir.”
“Good boy. I know. Don’t forget your dinner. Good night.”
“Good night, sir.”
The room went still and quiet, and for a moment it felt as if Brian had taken all the oxygen with him when the boy left the room. But a moment later Nikki took a deep breath, breaking the awkward silence, and that seemed to give Bradford permission to do the same.
“I am gratified that you have come home.”
“Gratified?” Nikki snorted.
“Grateful. I’m—I appreciate that you are willing to give your submission a second chance.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He raised an eyebrow and exhaled heavily. “Very well. What have you come home to say?” He continued, stubbornly, to use “home,” determined to make it clear that he felt this was where Nikki belonged.
