Chapter 6 Lessons for Darren
Lessons for Darren
Darren Quinn
Darren knew that most people probably associated the metallic swish of a knife being sharpened with bad horror movies, but it was always a comfort to come home to.
He'd bought the set of chef's knives for his husband the first Christmas they spent together, an indulgent stroke of genius that proved to be the perfect gift.
Miles kept them perfectly maintained, and coming home to the sound of a blade on the sharpener usually meant very good things were to come.
Miles was always off work in time to be home when the kids got home from after-school activities, on the days that they stayed with them.
Darren had slowly aligned his own working hours to be more reasonable as well.
He liked being home for late dinner, and if things at Shimizu aligned - no members he needed to see personally, and someone available to intake any of the full access members - he'd try to leave early enough to distract Miles before dinner.
On Thursdays, when the kids had dance lessons, it was almost always a sure thing.
"Hello, handsome." He stepped around one of the piles of half-packed boxes in the living room. Miles was fully dressed, sadly, though cooking naked was never a risk he took on 'kids' days unless they were absolutely certain of safety.
Miles paused to look back at him with a smile, but it had a strange, determined edge to it. "Hey, sexy. It's time to wash up and come join me. You're going to learn how to cook."
Darren stared at him, trying to process his words.
His first reaction was pleasure, and no small amount of desire.
Miles was so sexy that it was impossible to ever completely turn off how much Darren wanted him, both physically and as a submissive.
His husband kept himself incredibly well-built, with large, strong muscles under just enough softness that making love didn't feel like humping a wall.
It had been one of the things that had made it impossible to deny Miles when, as Darren's client, he'd confessed his feelings and asked if they could be more.
The other thing, of course, was how incredible it was to dominate him. Miles gave himself over to submission like he'd been trained his whole life, and was just as happy to be tied up, spanked, teased, or claimed as he was to throw Darren into bed and serve his pleasure with his incredible cock.
They didn't keep up the formal dom/sub dynamic all the time, of course. What they'd both wanted - a real relationship, a partnership - was too precious to insist on rules and roles outside of official playtime. Even if most of their intimacy inevitably became some degree of kinky.
It meant that the times when Miles took a more insistent hand with him were very sexy indeed. Being impressed - and turned on - by Miles's manner, it took a moment for it to really sink in what he'd said. "I'm - you - excuse me?"
Miles chuckled, rinsing off the knife and the sharpener carefully and tucking the latter in the drying rack. Leaving the knife on the counter, he turned to face him, holding out a barbecue apron. "We're making spaghetti bolognese. Together."
"For tonight? To feed the kids? Are you sure about that?"
Darren must have looked as terrified as that idea made him feel. Miles stepped closer, setting the apron aside and slipping an arm around his waist, kissing his temple. "Come on, it's not that bad. There are only five ingredients, and most of them come out of cans. You'll do fine, I promise."
"You really think this is a good idea?" Darren pointed out, trying to joke past a rush of discomfort. "There's a reason you banned me from the kitchen after the TSRI."
"TS... oh, the tomato soup and rice incident.
" Miles chuckled again. Good thing one of them was amused, though Darren still maintained it was a perfectly acceptable meal in a pinch.
Well, maybe for a desperate college kid.
"Well, here's your chance to redeem yourself. Trust me, Dare. It'll be alright."
Searching wildly for the defense of more humor and coming up blank, Darren swallowed hard. "I'm really not good at this."
"Even you can't be good at everything." Miles stroked the small of his back soothingly. "You're not bad at it. You're just unpracticed. That's why I'm here."
"To make sure I don't set the kitchen on fire?" Darren managed a smile.
"To teach you." His husband chuckled softly.
Then his voice softened, gentle and reassuring in a way Darren thought Miles might have picked up from him.
"Don't worry, alright? I'll take care of you.
All you need to do is follow my instructions.
If you make a mistake, I'll help you do better. I promise."
Whether he'd intended it or not, his words echoed ones that Darren had said to many new pupils, and Miles especially. He hadn't expected to be in a position to need them himself. But the familiarity soothed him, even if he rarely found himself taking instruction.
The calm, intent way Miles looked at him was beautiful. Would the Miles he'd met three years ago have even dreamed of being capable of this?
Maybe it would be best to lean into it.
He drew a slow breath. "Alright. I am your obedient pupil... Sir."
The corners of Miles's eyes crinkled adorably as he smiled, reaching up to caress his cheek. "Good boy," he said softly. He hesitated, then nodded towards a black paper gift bag sitting on top of a pile of boxes. "I think I'm going to give you a choice, since you're being so willing. Open that."
Lifting out the tissue paper, the first thing Darren's fingers encountered was soft and lacy. He took out the emerald green underwear, surprised and impressed. A package of stockings followed. "Oh... you did really like things the other day, didn't you?"
Miles's blue eyes sparkled, pleased. "Didn't I what, pet?"
"Didn't you, Sir. Forgive me, Master."
"Better. Thank you, pet." Miles stepped closer, stroking a hand down over his ass for an indulgent squeeze. "I did really like things the other day," he confirmed. "And now I'm going to give you a choice. Those can be your reward later - "
"With the kids here?" Darren's eyebrows rose.
"We'll be quiet," Miles replied. "Or, you can go put them on now, and wear them the entire rest of the evening until I'm ready to fuck you before bed. Which do you choose?"
With the kids here? Darren almost asked again. It was already difficult enough to set aside the part of him that was a thirsty queer in love with the hottest man in existence in order to be an appropriate parental figure. How much harder would it be with nylons and lace underneath his pants?
But if submitting was meant to be easy, it wouldn't be nearly as worth it.
Darren put the lingerie back in the bag and picked it up. "Sir, may I change into something less likely to be ruined by exploding tomato sauce?"
Miles nodded, smile widening. "You may." Then, as Darren turned, he caught his arm. "Dare - "
"Sir?" Now that he'd made his mind up, the honorific came easily.
Miles pulled him into a warm kiss, sliding a hand up into his hair. "Thank you. I appreciate your willingness to serve me."
Now that he was settling into the idea more, Miles's words awoke a thrill of excitement curl in his core. "Thank you for teaching me, Sir."
"I'll respect your safe words. And I promise you'll like your reward."
"Thank you, Sir."
"Think you can keep being subby until bedtime?"
Darren raised his eyebrows. "With the kids here?"
"It's only a couple of hours." Miles caressed his cheek. "You may call me love, or husband, when other people are here. You may act as you will unless I request something of you. Alright?"
It would be a fun challenge. More importantly, it would be something to hopefully keep his mind off the underwear. "Yes, Sir."
"Good." Miles swatted his ass lightly. "Go change. We have work to do."
Darren prudently exchanged his suit for jeans and a dark, casual button-down, putting on Miles's gifts first. The stockings were inexpensive mock-garters; perfect for ripping, he noted with hopeful pleasure.
The panties were clearly made for a man, but cut like a pair of women's lacy boy-cut shorts.
They sat low on his hips, the delicate fabric doing nothing for any sense of modesty.
It was a lurid temptation to admire himself in the mirror as he adjusted himself under the lace.
The reality of Miles having bought these for him was even more arousing.
Fancy underthings weren't something he generally indulged in, but had inadvertently been part of his journey to dominance.
When he was young, when he'd started escorting, a wealthy client had started buying him a whole get-up for every date.
Wearing them for him had quickly turned into games of objectification and shoe worship.
He'd truthfully been disappointed when the man had moved to the West Coast, though by that time, he'd made the decision to move away from escorting completely, so it had been for the best. But it had been more than enough to add to the list of things to explore with Miles.
Putting his jeans on over the top of the stockings was a thrilling sensation, nylon sliding against the thick cotton. Darren was half-hard by the time he did up his jeans.
Thank god he had time before dinner to get himself under control. And a terrifying task to devote himself to.
Prudently, he put socks on as well, leaving no outward sign of the naughty truth underneath his clothes. Then he went back out.
Miles had just set an onion on the counter. His gaze moved down his body with blatant hunger. "Did you do as I asked?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Show me."
Standing in the kitchen in front of his husband with Miles's gifts hidden under his jeans, Darren's mouth went dry.
Are you sure you want to see me in those panties right now?
He wanted to ask, but held his tongue. Miles wanted to be in control, in one of the few ways he could truly turn the tables on him.
Every part of him wanted to encourage that.
Obediently, he undid his jeans again, sliding them down around his thighs. The way Miles's eyes darkened with hunger made him pulse in the delicate lace.
"Fuck..." Moving closer, Miles ran a hand up his thigh, fingers pressing into his skin. "Jesus."
Darren closed his eyes and drew a slow breath, trying to will his body not to send every last drop of his blood south. "Sir, may I serve your pleasure before we begin?"
"Fuck, don't tempt me." Miles gripped his hip tighter, fingers digging into his skin. Then he released him, thrusting an apron at him. "Later. Put this on."
Darren let out a long breath, steeling himself and refastening his clothes. He took the apron, pulling it on and tying it around his waist. "Yes, Sir."
Hopefully, cooking would be enough of a distraction from having to think about the panties.
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