Chapter 12 #2
Wylde and I hadn’t taken time for things like this since he’d joined me at the Ranch.
First, he’d been busy with physical therapy and finding his footing around the place, spending more time getting to know the service subs and letting them help him with things he couldn’t manage while his arm had been in a sling.
And later, he’d just been content to help me complete whatever project we’d been assigned.
In hindsight, as I sat watching them laugh over an image of the golden retriever sprawled across the wolf’s lap getting belly rubs, head hanging off the wolf’s knee as he watched the movie, I realized that a part of me had seen those early moments he’d spent here as a form of moving on.
Wylde, on the other hand, had been using them to help him feel normal again while getting to be close to me, remaining hopeful that one of the service subs would be a perfect fit for us.
Because we needed it. Because we’d always been better together when we had a third to care for.
And because I’d still been too angry over Cory to even try to fill that hole, something I’d been too blind to see until right this moment.
When he’d told me the full story, about the way Cory had thrown himself at a few of the other Doms on the circuit and even brought them back to the RV to try to encourage Wylde to join in, it had pissed me off at first. Until I realized I’d seen the signs.
That deep down I’d known Cory had only been with us because we were established champions in the running to be champions again, and that came with a great deal of endorsements and attention, which he’d craved even more than he’d craved us.
Payne, on the other hand, submitted because he truly drew pleasure out of every act.
He didn’t need to be seen doing things, but he did crave the praise that came when we saw the results.
His need to serve, to be useful, came from a core-deep belief that it was part of a circle of give and take, and it gave him comfort and peace knowing he got to play a part in that. An equal part.
My grandfather’s old saying about a sum being equal to its parts, echoed through my head as Payne flipped to the next image.
In it, our mouths were hanging open as we’d stared wide-eyed at the screen.
Comically wide, in fact. Almost popping out of our heads.
And the reason was depicted on the television screen he’d drawn.
It was a scene from The Prestige, when the audience finally learns that the reason the magic tricks had been successful was because the magician had an identical twin and that they’d been working together to perform them.
Talk about a holy-shit moment.
No blood, no gore, no creature popping out of someone’s chest, just the ultimate sleight of hand. Talk about awesome. We’d been so blown away that we’d sat there for several moments, stuttering through attempts at snark, until Wylde had muttered something that had almost come across as profound.
Two men sharing one life is never going to be easy, but they proved that it can be done.
Yeah, I happened to agree with that, which was how I knew it was time to bite the bullet and just spit out the question that had been occupying my thoughts all day.
“Payne, how attached are you to your plan of moving into the service sub suites and working for the Ranch?” I blurted before he could turn to show us what was on the next page in his sketchbook.
“I love it here; I don’t want to leave,” Payne replied.
“And I’m not suggesting you do,” I said. “You belong here as much as we do.”
“What he’s asking is if you would like to be ours and move into a house with us instead of the suite.
We can move from the employee apartments and get a home on the Ridge.
You can take care of our home and the garden we know you’d love to put in.
Cosplay as much as you’d like, because we’ve really enjoyed slipping into the roles you create for us,” Wylde said, taking over for me.
“Basically, what we’re saying is that we’d like you to be our sub and share a life with us here on the Ranch, because as cheesy as this might sound, you really do complete us, and we need that, desperately. We need you. So please say yes,” I added.
First, he squealed, then he tossed the sketchbook on the table and climbed into my lap, hugging the breath out of me as he cried, "Yes, yes, yes," with all the passion and excitement as when he’d been sprawled on the table in the Dungeon, having an orgasm while stuffed full of Wylde’s cock.
Wylde’s arms wrapped around us, hugging from the side as our boy clung to me, giggling while dampening my shirt with happy tears.
Our boy.
Payne belonged to us now. His pleasure, his happiness, his needs, and his joy were in our hands to protect and nurture.
The past had taught me that failure would happen.
We would disappoint one another from time to time, we’d feel like shit over it, we’d work to correct our mistakes, we’d vow to never do it again, and we’d be mindful the next time a similar situation cropped up, because in the end, we’d grow together.
Because that was what life within this sort of dynamic was all about.
Evolving, changing, exploring, discovering, and forging bonds and connections that allowed each individual to become the strongest person they could be. Because the sum really did equal the parts, and when all the parts worked together, the sum could be a glorious thing indeed.