Chapter Two #2
“Phil.” He let out an exasperated sigh. His Master’s name was beginning to sound strange even to his own ears. “Master, really. I’ll be fine to drive and everything. Plus, I don’t want to interrupt your day, your big production meeting.” Phil didn’t respond. “Master? You still there?”
“Y-yes. I’m here.” A melancholy sigh sounded on the phone. “When are you coming home?”
“If traffic doesn’t suck beyond all reason, then I should be there no later than seven.”
At least he’d raised a chuckle out of Phil. “All right. But promise me you’ll go easy until then. You’re sure you can drive?”
Terry let his eyes roll as much as he wanted and quelled the urge to answer Phil with ‘Yes, Mom’. “I promise. I was just about to go clean it up when you called.”
“You should’ve said something.” Phil’s voice exuded frustration. “Okay, I’ll stop pestering you and let you go. You mean the world to me, that’s all.”
Terry grinned. Hearing Phil speak about him that way made all the pestering Phil wanted to dole out worth it.
Now if I can only figure out how to explain the insanity I just went through when I get home.
****
Phil hadn’t wanted to admit he’d been calling from home when he’d spoken to Terry.
After the disappointment of the film project falling through, he’d picked up some fresh pasta, herbs and vegetables on the way back to the house.
Usually, Terry would be the one to cook for them as part of their domestic arrangement, although they did take Saturdays and Sundays off to give Terry a respite.
He works just as hard…
If things didn’t turn around soon, Terry would be working harder than Phil.
He dropped his head into his hands. Terry needed him to be strong.
They were at the beginning of a Total Power Exchange relationship, even if it was still an ironically part-time one as they worked through their respective roles.
He couldn’t radiate uncertainty, or it would only confuse Terry, make him insecure.
In the hours since he’d returned home, he’d made several business calls, sent out emails with inquiries, and scoured the trades which he’d been neglecting for quite a while.
Someone he’d hired as an assistant director on an old project had since made a name for himself as a major film director, and he’d extended an invitation to Phil.
A charity ball was coming up and he’d said he could get Phil on the list.
Me only.
It appeared that he was about to be thrust back into the world of job-seeking, appearing at events and parties, schmoozing.
He’d become complacent over the course of the past decade, had forgotten what it was like not to have his next high-paying project neatly lined up, waiting for the moment when he could grace it with his presence.
How would Terry handle the abrupt change right as they’d begun their D/s journey together?
How will I handle it?
The key turned in the lock and a sense of peace filled him. If he hadn’t been so intent on making work calls, he would’ve tried to get ahold of Eric. He needed his mentor’s guidance.
Phil rose from the sofa in the sunken living room of the nineteen-thirties Mediterranean home located in West Hollywood.
Terry had purchased the residence after Phil left, so it was on the small side, but it was fine for the time being, plus it had an attached garage that Terry had converted into a home studio.
He sighed. The ‘time being’ might be longer than he’d originally thought.
As soon as Terry entered, and he spotted Phil, his face lit up in a smile. The best thing ever. Terry wrestled the key from the door latch and Phil didn’t miss the grimace of pain as he turned his arm. Phil’s gaze landed on the tear in his shirt.
“Come here, baby. Leave your things for now.”
A sheepish expression floated across Terry’s features before he seemed to catch himself. Right as he reached Phil, he gingerly dropped to his knees, his gaze lowered.
“Master.”
For the past week, they’d been working on Terry getting into his submissive mindset as soon as he or Phil arrived home.
Prior to that, Phil would call ‘scene’ before they began and many times they’d have a discussion first as to what they hoped to gain from their interaction.
Until it became second nature for them and being full-time Master and sub was simply a part of who they were, Phil needed to speak openly with Terry so that his attention was on Phil’s words and nothing else.
Phil placed his hand on Terry’s head before speaking. He didn’t want to worry him. “Red.”
Terry gasped, his eyes lifting, fear clearly etched in them.
That didn’t go how I wanted it to. As self-assured and grounded a man Terry was, Phil had to remind himself that his sweet sub was also very sensitive.
Phil reached down to help him up by his biceps.
Even if Terry had practiced and could do it on his own, he wanted to make it clear that they weren’t in a scene.
As soon as he wrapped his fingers around Terry’s arms, he winced.
Phil immediately let go, reaching for his hand instead.
“What’s wrong?”
Frustration pulled at Phil. Terry’s clothing was in the way. He needed to see where and how Terry had been injured. Phil guided him to the couch then sat down with his boy. As soon as he started unbuttoning Terry’s shirt, Terry grabbed his wrists as if to stop him.
“I’m fine, really. Let me change out of this and put a new Band-Aid on.”
Terry searched his face with his gaze, and Phil wondered if he’d somehow discovered that Phil’s film project had fallen through. But first he needed to check Terry to make sure he really was as okay as he claimed.
“Stop that. This shirt is coming off and you’re going to show me your elbow and whatever else is bothering you.”
Terry glanced down, no longer meeting Phil’s eyes. “I only hurt my elbow when I fell.”
“Uh-huh.” Phil furrowed his brow. “Then why were you wincing in pain when I touched your upper arms?”
“Because I…look, my pants are ruined from the damn blacktop, and anyway, why did you call red? Are you mad at me?”
Phil scrubbed one hand over his face. Terry was quick, whip smart. He was also clearly hiding something.
“You know that’s not acceptable, Terry.”
“What’s not…?” Terry lowered his head before meeting his eyes. “Okay. You’re right. I’m sorry, Sir.”
“You don’t have to call me Sir right now.”
Terry pulled his eyebrows together. “Are you sure you’re not mad at me?”
“Baby.”
Phil’s voice had been soft, his heart full of love for his beautiful sub and the undeniable urge to keep him safe always, even if it was from any thoughtless actions or words that he, himself, might do or say.
He leaned in, careful not to touch Terry until he knew where he was hurt, pressing his lips to Terry’s mouth, licking across the seam until Terry opened up for him.
He kept the kiss gentle but put as much of his love into it as he could.
He wouldn’t let Terry doubt, not even for a moment.
With a final peck on Terry’s lips, he leaned back.
“It’s obvious that we both need some clarification and reassurance from each other.
” Phil stroked one hand across Terry’s thigh in a soothing gesture, still not convinced that he might not be unwittingly hurting him.
It was one part of the reason he needed the full truth from Terry.
Terry’s cheeks pinked lightly. “Yeah. You’re right.” He nodded. “Okay, me first.”
Terry continued what Phil had started, wincing as he pulled his arm free of the sleeve that had the tear. Phil helped him, anxious to see how bad the injury to his elbow was. Instead, two angry red patches that Phil knew would end up bruising on Terry’s biceps drew his attention.
Someone grabbed my boy. Hurt him.
He breathed in harshly through his nostrils, fighting the urge to rage so as not to scare his lover. Terry had ducked his head, almost as if he were ashamed. Phil needed immediate answers.
“What happened, baby? Whole story, and I mean everything. No hiding. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”