Chapter 8
Eight
CALLUM
“ N o.” Mouse crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip. If we weren’t running late for our appointment with Doc I would have found it adorable, but right now I was close to my wits’ end. Mouse had woken in a grump, and whether he knew it or not, he’d regressed in a similar way to Rhys, just not as young. More like a stroppy ten-year-old with a nettle stuck in his kegs. I wondered if it had something to do with the trauma he’d suffered last night, or if there had always been a Little or Middle hidden behind all those barbs. The idea was both baffling and strangely appealing to me.
“Boy, I am not going to argue with you. Eat the damn cereal then we can head to Doc’s.” I slid the bowl towards him and had to hide a laugh when his nose scrunched up and his lip pouted out further.
“Not hungry.”
“I heard your damn stomach growl, Mouse, and Doc said you can’t take the antibiotics on an empty stomach.” I wasn’t sure why I’d picked this hill to die on this morning, but I wasn’t going to let the little shit get away with not eating.
Something had shifted between us last night. We’d always had a funny sort of relationship. Often, I felt my old Dom instincts taking over when dealing with him, and more times than not he’d responded well. Now, knowing more about him, I was beginning to see that he needed that guidance and structure—the sort of structure a Dom or a Daddy might provide. I felt I should have been surprised about wanting to be that for him, but I wasn’t.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Woke up grouchy.” Mouse scooped a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
“I’d be more worried if you’d woken up bright and cheerful after the night you had. Look, we’ll go down, see Doc, let him check you over, then we can spend the rest of the day watching telly and eating junk food. How’s that sound?”
Mouse looked up, smiling slightly. “That sounds good.” He scooped another spoonful of cereal into his mouth, chewing loudly until he caught sight of me looking at him. He then slowed his chewing, eating at a more reasonable pace and quieter volume.
“Good lad,” I murmured, taking a slow sip of my coffee as a soft blush crept up Mouse’s cheeks.
Mouse’s forehead creased in concentration before he let out a soft breath. “Cal, what are we doing?”
“For now, eating breakfast.” I held my hand up to forestall Mouse’s rebuttal, “I know what you’re asking, but I need you to give me some time to get my thoughts in order. I can promise you I’m not going anywhere. I care about you a lot, even when you’re a grumpy shite. When we get home from Doc’s we can talk. I promise.”
“Fine. I’m not grumpy, by the way. I’m a fucking delight,” Mouse huffed, scooping another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. He gazed into his bowl, a soft smile gracing his still-blushing face.
“Alice won’t be back until tomorrow night, so you’ve got the weekend to prove to me just how much of a delight you can be.” I smirked over the rim of my coffee cup at the surprised look on Mouse’s face.
Mouse lowered his spoon, giving me a searching look. “What is that supposed to mean?”
I scratched my chin, noting I really needed to give my beard a trim. “Well, that’s up to you. You’ve got ten minutes to finish up and get changed.” Moving around the counter I went to the sink, leaving Mouse to consider my words.
U pstairs, in the privacy of my bathroom, I allowed myself a come-to-Jesus moment. Was I really going to go through with the harebrained idea I’d had as Mouse slept in my arms?
It had seemed like a brilliant plan at three a.m., when I’d been holding Mouse. I’d offer to be his Dom, give him the pain he was craving, but also make sure he was looked after. I’d glimpsed another side of Mouse, one that lined up to a burgeoning kink of my own. Stripping my sleep pants off, I chucked them in the hamper and turned on the shower. The pipes groaned and I waited for the old hot water system to kick in.
The idea of Mouse calling me Daddy was undeniably arousing, but it also called to something baser, something possessive inside of me. I wanted to explore that, but would Mouse? Was I projecting onto the man? I didn’t think so. He’d come close to calling me Daddy a couple of times during the night. I was willing to put my neck out and say he’d developed feelings that were more than friendly for me, just like I was coming to terms with the feelings I had for him.
I lathered my chest and abs as I mulled over how I was going to approach this with Mouse. There was no point beating around the bush, and I’d already let myself slip into a caretaking, Dominant mindset with him last night and this morning.
He’d be a handful, that was for certain. A smile tugged at my lips as I thought of the fire Mouse had. I didn’t want to douse that flame, but I wanted to encourage him to think he was worth more than he saw. To convince him he was worth loving.
I was growing hard at the thought of the experiences we could have. I poured more of my body wash into my palm and slicked my cock. I could picture Mouse on his knees, begging to suck Daddy’s cock, his dark hair tumbling around his shoulders, messy and so soft between my fingers as I clutched it and brought his mouth to my cock. I let out a slow breath, easing my strokes, not wanting to rush. I liked to tease myself, to draw out my pleasure. I was almost there, but I stopped, savouring the moment.
I started to speed up my strokes, my toes curling as that deep throb in my balls increased. I was so fucking close, just a bit m— Jesus suffering fuck!
I yelped as the water turned to an icy torrent, and I swore I could hear Mouse’s laughter from downstairs. That damn brat of a boy must have turned the kitchen hot water tap on full. I sighed, looking down at my shrinking cock. I was going to get him back for this—and I was going to have fun doing it.
M ouse was sitting at the kitchen table, dressed in a pair of jeans, with his zip-up hoodie and T-shirt in his hands and a smile like butter wouldn’t melt in his goddamn mouth.
“I need a hand,” Mouse said sweetly, holding his T-shirt out.
Without a word I took the T-shirt and helped him put it on. His movements were stiff, but not as restricted as I’d thought they might be. The worst of the wounds seemed to be focused on his shoulders.
I fixed him with a stern glare. “You know, spanking your arse would just be giving you a reward.” I grabbed my keys, ignoring the outraged huff I got in return.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“C’mon, we can’t keep Doc waiting. He’s bad-tempered enough.”
Mouse followed me out to the car, moving slowly. I’d checked the welts that Doc hadn’t covered in bandages this morning when we’d woken up. The smaller ones were already starting to scab over, but the deep bruising was starting to come out. I could tell Mouse was feeling it today as we got in the car.
“You doing okay?” I asked as I buckled my seat belt. Mouse did the same, but slower.
“Just peachy,” he huffed out, sitting forwards in his seat. It was only a fifteen-minute drive to Tewsbury, but I had a feeling it was going to feel a damn sight longer for Mouse.
For the first few miles Mouse was quiet, and I thought he’d fallen asleep until he spoke.
“Are we going to talk about last night?”
“We are, but I wasn’t going to push you about it. It’s your story to tell,” I answered, not taking my eyes off the road.
Mouse let out a frustrated growl. “Not about the Ziggy shit. I know I fucked up there. I mean about us.”
I tried not to smile. “What do you mean, little Mouse?”
“Argh, that— that’s what I mean. Since when have I been little Mouse? Since when did you talk to me like I was more than just Simon’s annoying kid brother, or the guy who worked in the studio with you? You punched Ziggy! You did that for me! You kissed my head and held me all fucking night. I can’t pretend this doesn’t mean something to me. I can’t go back to hiding how I feel.” Mouse spoke quickly, as if he was afraid he wouldn’t get the words out.
“Slow down and breathe for me.” I took my hand from the wheel and reached out for Mouse’s, giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze before I placed my hand back on the wheel. “I punched Ziggy and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. You are worth more than that scumbag or those assholes at The Pit. The thought of you going there, letting those fucking lowlifes touch you…” I couldn’t keep the anger from my voice. I wasn’t angry at Mouse, I was angry at the circumstances and the people who’d made him feel like he wasn’t worth common decency or respect, or love.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mouse wipe his eyes roughly with the sleeve of his hoodie. I wanted to pull the car over and drag him into my lap, but I couldn’t. For one thing we needed to talk about things, and for another there was nowhere on this damn stretch of road for me to do it.
“I need it though—the pain, the stuff I did there.” Mouse’s voice was quiet and with a quick glance I could see him curling in on himself, throwing that damn wall up between us again.
Not on my fucking watch. No way.
The turn-off to Tewsbury Manor was coming up, the wide tree-lined lane devoid of any traffic this early on a Saturday morning. I turned the car quickly up the lane, pulling off to the side and killing the engine.
“Mouse, look at me please.” I unstrapped my seat belt and turned in the seat to face him, waiting for him to turn away from the window. “I was going to wait until we got back home to have this conversation, but I reckon we need to have it now, before you get stuck in that head of yours.”
I saw some of the tension drop from Mouse’s shoulders as he turned from the view of manicured parkland to look at me.
“What do you think is going to scare me off? The fact you like pain, or that you nearly called me Daddy a couple of times last night?”
Mouse ducked his head, the grey hood of his hoodie slipping over his head. “Don’t just need pain. I like it, and calling you, you know, that name, can’t be held against me. I was fucked up last night,” he said, his long fingers tugging at the cord of his hoodie nervously, pulling the hood forwards trying to hide himself.
“Hmm. But what if I wanted you to call me that again? What if I wanted to give you what those fuckers at The Pit couldn’t, but do it proper? There’d be rules and safe words and aftercare. You’d get what you needed.”
Mouse looked up, and I could see the idea shocked him. “What would you get out of it?”
“Everything. I’ve not had a proper sub of my own for years. Well, not since Alice was born.”
Mouse tilted his head, assessing me as if he was seeing me—the real me—for the first time. “What about everyone else? Work, Alice, my brother? Would this just be a friends with beatings kind of thing?”
I had to stifle a snort. Friends with beatings was a rather apt description. “It’s not Simon or Rhys’s business. It’s up to you if you choose to tell them. I’m not ashamed of how I feel about you. I’ve just been a bit thick-headed myself, wondering why you’d want a grey-haired, old grump like me in the first place.”
I stretched my arm out over the gap between us, not expecting Mouse to take it and happily surprised when he linked his slim fingers through mine.
He sat up, his brow furrowed and those kissable lips of his fixed in a pout. “You’re joking, right? Don’t you know you have half the town wanting to shag you?”
“Well, I can’t say I’m aware of that. When we get back home, we’re going to sit down and have a real talk—nothing hidden, cards-on-the-table kind of thing. But for now, just know I’m not doing this out of pity or some hero complex.” I gave Mouse’s hand another squeeze, which he returned.
“Do we have to go to Doc’s?”
“Yes. I don’t want to catch hell from the grumpy bastard for not getting you there. Be a good boy for me and talk to him, let him check your back over, and reassure himself you’re not going to hop the twig anytime soon.”
Mouse snickered. “Who says hop the twig? ”
I put the car in drive and pulled back onto the main road with Mouse still snickering. “I do, thank you very much! Careful now, you don’t want another tally mark to your name.”
“What? How? Hang on, do tally marks mean spankings? Because you know that’s not a threat. I’m all up for a good spanking. You just have to ask me nicely.”
“Not the way I do them, boy. And are you forgetting the shower?”
“Whoops, that was not my fault! I had to make sure the mug was clean.”
I shook my head at his doe-eyed, innocent look. It was not as good as he thought. “I’m sure that’s what happened,” I answered drily.
“Yup, has nothing to do with you sneaking off to have a shower wank.”
“And how do you know that’s what I was doing?”
He blushed scarlet. “Well, it’s what I do every morning in the shower,” he mumbled.
“Every day?” I questioned, enjoying the way Mouse squirmed in his seat.
Mouse shrugged. “It’s why God gave us hands, right? ”
“Well, I hope you had a good wank this morning, because it’s going to be your last one for a while.” I probably should have waited till we’d discussed what we wanted from this thing, but the idea seemed too perfect. Mouse was about to learn a whole new level of sadism.
Mouse stared at me. His mouth was slightly open as if to voice a sharp comeback, but I could see the excitement in his eyes. He wanted this as much as I did. “I didn’t have a wank this morning. Back hurt too much.”
“Let’s see how good you can be today, and I’ll think about letting you come before I put you on restriction.”
Mouse shot a furtive look at his lap.
I burst out laughing. “Not in the car.”
The pout he gave me was epic and so sexy, but I wasn’t going to let our first time being intimate together happen in the goddamn car. Besides, I had an idea about just how I was going to let Mouse come.
“Tell me how you feel about all this. Be honest, boy.” I needed to check in. We were moving at light speed and I didn’t want to overwhelm him, but something was driving me to go balls to the wall with him.
Mouse took a shaky breath, and his hand came over to cover mine on the steering wheel. “Scared, excited and now super fucking horny.”
I let out a loud laugh. I felt the same way.