Chapter 21
I watch thirty gangly thirteen-year-olds racing around the playing field, the rugby ball getting lost in a tangle of legs as they tackle each other. But my mind isn’t on them; it hasn’t been for the last four days. The only person I can think of is Memphis and everything we got up to.
That kind of sex is more Saint, but I can’t lie and say I didn’t enjoy it. Nor can Memphis, not if the way he was screaming out my name is any indication. But that’s the issue, his and mine.
He doesn’t understand why, and I like it more than I thought.
When we went on to talk about things he’s done before and liked, as well as things that he didn’t love so much but the partner he was with did.
I was surprised when he said he liked being caged, but not as a punishment.
He hasn’t given much away about his last Daddy, only that it wasn’t going anywhere.
I think another chat with Saint is on the cards.
I see one of the kids getting too boisterous and blow my whistle. “Hey, Archie, back off.”
He raises in his arms in a what did I do motion. I put Memphis out of my head and walk onto the pitch. “Don’t grab the collar of his shirt and tug; you know that’s gonna hurt.”
“He wouldn’t give up the ball. I got it fair and square.”
“Okay, both of you”—I crook my finger to Rafferty— “Come here. Now, no more fighting. You know I’m not just talking about now. You two have had it in for each other for too long. If you can’t play nice, I’ll see you in my office, and we can talk about it there.”
“He’s just pissed off that Malachi likes me more than him.” Raff shrugs as if it’s no big deal that he’s potentially outed both of them. They know I’m gay; I’ve never hidden my sexuality, but it isn’t something I discuss or talk about here.
“No way, man, I ain’t no fa—”
“You say that word, and you’ll be in detention for the remainder of your time at this school. Watch your language.”
Archie does have the decency to blush and mumble an apology, but then their attention is taken by something else. I look around and see Saint leaning against the stone steps, twenty feet away from me. As if summoned by my thoughts.
“Jesus, I’m gay for him,” Archie sighs.
“Get back on the pitch and behave.”
I stroll over to my brother. “What are you doing here? Selling tattoos to underage kids?”
“Noah has a meeting with one of the teachers here, something about additional art classes. I don’t know exactly. I’m his driver.”
“Oh, that’s cool, he’d be good here.”
“I just thought I’d say hi. You’ve gone to ground since the weekend. Too busy Daddy-ing your boy?”
I stare at him. If anything, I was expecting a mouthful from him for what went down at lunch on Sunday.
“What?” Then his eyes narrow. “What happened?”
My eyes are still on the kids when I shake my head. “I can’t talk about it here. I’ve got shit to do, so I’ll see you later.”
I clap him on the shoulder and walk back onto the pitch and call all the kids to me.
“We’ve got a couple of minutes left, one more scrum.
” I get the ball from them and wait. Before I can start, the bell goes off, and the kids break up, rough-housing and messing around.
I see Archie and Rafferty talking again.
There are smiles from both of them. I can put that down to testosterone—again!
“Showers! No water dodgers, you’re thirteen and stinky! ”
The kids all groan, making me laugh. They’re a good bunch.
I make it back to my desk and look at the work piling up; I’m going to need to take it home with me. Papers needed marking, and if I’m honest, it will take my mind off everything to do with Memphis.
There’s a knock on my door, and I look at the time, frowning. I don’t know anyone that wouldn’t call before coming around. After I push the papers further onto the table, making sure nothing is going to topple, I get up and stretch my back.
“Hey, Pops,” I look past him for Dad, but he’s alone. “This is a pleasant surprise, come in. I could do with a break.”
“Oh, have I interrupted. I’m sorry. I should’ve called, but I was on my way back from the supermarket and just thought I’d see if you were in.”
This is a blatant lie; the supermarket is nowhere near my house, and he knows that too.
“Uh-huh. Okay, I’ll believe you. Do you want to put any chilled stuff in my fridge since it’s warm out there.”
I’m fixed with a Pops stare. “Fine, I came to see how you are. It’s not like you to react like that.”
“I’m good, sick of grading papers but, yeah, I’m good.” Not a complete lie, I’m pissed off Memphis isn’t here, but I’m not unhappy exactly.
His head tilts to the side as he scrutinises me. “I can see that. Good, I’m glad to hear it. Anyway, I’d better go.” He nods towards the crowded table. “Good luck with that.” He walks back to the door.
“Yeah, thanks.” I stop, my hand on the latch. “Why did you really come?”
“No reason.” He steps out. “I hope you and Memphis got things worked out. You’re both good kids.”
“I’m thirty-two, Pops.” I push my hand through my hair. “It’s complicated. We’re both going through some stuff we didn’t expect. It’s a work in progress.”
“You’re still my kid, Royal. Perhaps you need to think outside the box a little more.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? And don’t you dare leave here now.” I capture his arm, and he laughs at me, shaking loose.
“Oh, Royal, you can work that out. Maybe talk to him and listen to all he’s not telling you as much as what he is. You’re a clever man. Don’t give up on him.”
“I don’t want to, but I’m not interested in playing games anymore. I’m too old for that. I can get what I need at the club without having to lift a finger.” That’s true, but I can’t imagine having anyone else, not now I’ve been inside Memphis.
“Maybe that’s your problem, you’ve always had it too easy.
Having men clamour for your attention must be nice, but you never find one worth bringing home and looking for more.
So, is it you that’s holding you back? You must work at a relationship, son.
It’s full of as many pitfalls as it is pleasures, and you need to learn how to handle them. I’ll see you soon.”
He pats my cheek and walks back down to his car.
I close and lock the door, wandering back to my dining table and the plethora of papers. I can’t deal with my father’s riddles tonight. I’m too busy. It takes me until nearly midnight to finish all the papers, and as tired as I am, I am pleased with myself.
It’s not until I’m in bed that Pops’ words come back to me.
Listen to what he’s not saying as much as the words he is.
What the hell does that even mean? But I try and recall all Memphis said, and didn’t say, about his lifestyle.
How he reacted to me asking about his likes.
His reaction to watching me as I played with Alfie in the club definitely had him going hard, but he didn’t exactly say whether he liked it.
He likes the painful punishment, craving more, but is it a way of getting attention?
Gah, there’s too many ways to interpret his reactions and answers.
Shit! His last partner was an arsehole. He wasn’t a Daddy; he was a Dom and a callous one at that.
How abusive was the relationship? How much did Memphis lose of himself and what he really wanted and needed when he was there?
Is that the reason he’s having trouble being a little with me?
God, all these thoughts are getting me nowhere.
The best way to get through this is to talk to him, take him to Bound and let him be whatever he wants there.
My phone buzzes on my bedside table. The screen glows, lighting this corner of the room. I reach to grab it. Memphis. Is he overthinking everything the same way I am?
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask him.
“Yeah, kind of, I suppose. It’s been a weird few days. I’m not sure where I’m going. I know I want to be with you; there’s no confusion there. But I’ve been in an unhealthy relationship for so long, I don’t understand where I’ve lost that part of me.”
“I’m lying here with the same questions. I’m not usually that kind of Dom. I’m a Daddy. The kind that cares for and looks after his little one. I don’t behave the way I did with you, but fuck, Memphis, you make me want to do all the things a Daddy-Dom does.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing, and the only conclusion I’ve come up with is that I’m growing up now that I’m with you.
My little side hasn’t ever changed for anyone else, but with you, I can’t find him.
Even alone, I’m not turning to the fail-safe de-stressing colouring or playing with blocks like I have always done. ”
I don’t have an answer for him. “I think we should have a night at Bound. We can see what happens. You can be whoever you want to be.”
He’s quiet for a while, but I can hear his low breathing. “I wish I was with you,” he finally says, quietly.
“Then come over.”