Chapter Nine - 9. The Punishment #2
He just made an annoyed muttering sound.
Since we were in the city, I figured we might as well make the most of it.
It was the first time I’d left campus since I’d moved in, and it was strange realising how different it was, seeing elderly couples walk by, holding hands, and kids screaming their heads off on the playground.
Taylor and I walked through a huge park with several eucalyptus, oak and palm trees, and a big lake in the centre.
There were a few people out in rowboats and Taylor said something about it being romantic, so I chucked my soccer ball plushie at his head, which resulted in us piffing the ball at each other like we were thirteen years old.
Later, we window shopped, and, when our legs got tired, sat down on a couch in a fancy department store, watching rich people browse designer shoes.
“When I’m rich,” Taylor said, “there’s no way in hell I’m spending four hundred dollars on a pair of runners.”
He said it like his future success was guaranteed, and it probably was. He’d graduate and become some fancy pants lawyer. It was the sort of thing that’d happen to him.
I thought about asking him about his law course, but decided that would seem a bit too friendly. He’d think that I was actually interested in his life, or something. Then he’d make some lofty speech about not getting attached to him.
For dinner, we went to a pizza restaurant with blue tiled walls, red leather booths, and framed posters of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck in Roman Holiday. It was early, so there were only a few other patrons around.
“Do you want anything to drink?” I asked once we were seated. I flipped through the laminated menu and showed him the beer selection.
“I’m okay.” His gaze met mine then darted away.
“Alright. I won’t drink either.”
We ordered arancini as an appetiser, two pizzas, and I asked for tap water. We were quiet as we devoured the food. Who knew walking around department stores and chasing each other with a stuffed soccer ball would use up so much energy?
“We going back after this?” Taylor asked, cleaning his fingers with a napkin.
“Eager?” I teased.
He glared. “No.”
“Admit it. You want it.”
“No.”
“As my slave, I compel you to say it.”
His face twisted, then went carefully blank. “I want it,” he said, the same way you’d say to someone, your bank account is in overdraft.
“Say it with more oomph.”
“I want it,” he repeated, exactly the same.
I chuckled. This was fun. “Taylor?”
“Yes?” he said tiredly.
“Tell me I’m handsome.”
“You’re handsome.”
“Tell me,” I said, picking up a slice of pizza and curling my lips, “that I’m the most handsome man ever.”
“You’re not a man, you’re annoying.”
Yeah, I was only eighteen, and didn’t feel like a real grown up most of the time. But. “I’m a man. Legally.” I looked down at my body. “Physically.” Despite hoping I’d grow another few inches so I’d be taller than Taylor, puberty was done with me.
Taylor sighed. “You’re the most handsome man ever, Archie.”
“And I’m smart and cool.”
“You’re smart and cool.”
“I wish I was you.”
“I wish I was you.”
“Every night in high school, I prayed before bed wishing to god, the universe, to whoever’s up there, please make me as awesome as Archie.”
“Every night in high school, before bed I prayed, please make me — this is stupid. Are you really going to make me do this?”
“We’re just getting started. Say, I think you’re so hot, Archie.”
“I think you’re so hot, Archie,” he said flatly.
“I like you so much.”
“I — like — you — so — much.” He sounded physically pained as he forced each word out.
“Say, I love you Archie.”
Taylor blinked. Had he not heard me?
I repeated it for him. “Say, I love you, Archie. I lurrrve you. I dream of marrying you and becoming Mr Taylor Hayes —”
“Fuck off.” He was scowling now, properly scowling. He shoved his plate away and crossed his arms, turning so he was looking out the window.
“Come on, say it,” I said. “You’re my slave, so —”
“No.” He snapped, and something flickered in his eyes, too fast for me to read. His face flattened into something cold and blank. “Safeword.”
I put my hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll drop it.” If Taylor’s pride couldn’t take it, I wasn’t going to push.
We sat in silence as I finished off the last piece of pizza, but then I heard a rapping noise. I surreptitiously glanced under the table, pretending I’d dropped a napkin, and saw Taylor’s right foot tapping rapidly against the floor.
“How about dessert?” I asked, when I was upright again, picking up the menu.
“Let’s just go,” Taylor said. “I’m full. And —” he glanced outside. “It’s getting dark anyway.”
The sun was still out, but it was lowering behind some skyscrapers, the sky turning orange and purple.
It’d be dusk by the time we returned to campus.
I thought about teasing him, but I didn’t want to risk him biting my head off.
Or worse, making him so annoyed at me, that he’d safe word the rest of the night and I’d be left in bed, alone, with blue balls.
“Okay — ”
The word was barely out of my mouth before Taylor stood up and speed-walked to the counter, wallet out.