Troy snorted and leaned harder. “You’re happy, right? You like it?”
“The shop? I love it. It’s my favorite hobby made into a job. Someday I’ll open my own shop. Or buy this one out. Emma and I talk about it all the time.”
“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” He could totally see that—Saul owning his own shop. He liked it.
Saul nodded. “It’s a plan. What about you? Do you have plans?”
He didn’t know how to answer that without sounding like he’d given up. He didn’t have plans. He stopped making them years ago. He would work until he couldn’t anymore.
Jesus. Come on. Think of something.
“I’m going to retire and get my teacher hours in yoga. Have my own studio.”
Wait. What? Where the everloving fuck did that come from?
“Oh, wow. That’s fantastic.” Saul’s smile lit up that baby face, eyes reflecting the firelight. “What a great idea. You’ll be a great instructor, you’re good with people, you’re super patient, and you definitely love it.”
“Thank you. I do love it. It saved my life.”
“Thank goodness.” Saul kissed his jaw. “Clean up dinner, boy, and then we’ll sit and enjoy the fire.”
“Yes, Sir.” It was easy to clean up, pack the trash and the food and haul it up high in Saul’s bear bag where the bears wouldn’t get at it. The last thing they needed was random critters looking for a snack.
It didn’t take long, but it was long enough for Saul to fold up his chair and put a yoga mat in its place. His Master pointed to the mat as he got close. “I want you to kneel for a bit. I think we both could use to find our center.”
“Yes, Master.” Hell yes. He was eager to settle, to sink in and focus on Saul, Saul’s will.
Saul helped him get there. They pulled a couple of rocks and sticks out from under his mat and shifted it until he was comfortable. “Good boy.” Saul smoothed a hand over his head, behind his ear, and under his jaw. “Cross your ankles please, and grasp one wrist with the opposite hand behind your back. Whichever one is more comfortable and helps you keep your balance.”
He murmured his agreement, inhaled, and as he exhaled, he moved into position. Thank goodness he’d worn his flip-flops in the truck and not his hiking boots.
His Master moved around him, checked his grip and put his flip-flops to one side. “Lower your chin a little, eyes down or closed, if you prefer. If you get cold, or you feel like something is falling asleep, make sure you tell me.”
Sir sat close enough to touch, close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder.
Troy closed his eyes, the way the fire light danced against his eyelids simply fascinating, hypnotic.
Saul let him sit there quietly for a while, and listen to the logs pop and crackle, but eventually broke the silence. “Tell me what’s on your mind right now.”
“I was enjoying the rest, knowing you were with me.”
“It’s good, isn’t it? The energy between us when we’re together. It feels easy to me.”
“Yes, Sir. You have a vibe that calls to me.” That wasn’t another good way to explain it.
“I think that might be the need. That calling. But I know what you mean.” Saul slid a hand over his shoulders. “To find your space though you need to focus on something specific. Is there anything you want to talk about? Think about? We did that word thing to try to stir up something. We talked a little about service already. What else comes to mind for you?”
“I have no idea. I’m so glad I didn’t cancel today. It was so good, to see you.”
“I’m glad too. You needed me. I could see that. You were worn pretty thin. Canceling would have been exactly the wrong thing to do. When you feel that way, I can help you settle.”
“I appreciate it. Seriously.” He inhaled deeply, stretching with the breath and settling with his exhale.
“I know you do. But you don’t need to tell me, you can show me with your service. With your submission. That’s how this works, right? That what I need from you.” Saul leaned forward in the chair, watching the fire. “I need to understand what this feels like twenty-four-seven. I need you to help me with that, okay? It seems like the ideal to me, you know? But I don’t have a feel for how it works. How we each get what we need out of it. Everything we need.”
“I’ll do my best.” Troy wasn’t sure how to help. He’d never known anything else, and he’d never had to worry with Arnie. He’d been too fucking young and too fucking wet behind the ears to stress. He’d just been so in the moment every single second. Now he worried about seeming like some old needy queen who was pushing Saul into a situation he was uncomfortable with.
Maybe he needed to talk with Geoff and Carter.
Or just Geoff.
“I definitely can’t ask for more than that, boy. Except maybe for some patience. Thank you.” Saul relaxed back in the chair, and he could feel his Master breathing easier. “Are you warm enough?”
“Yes, Sir. The fire’s doing its job.” He spread his knees a bit, giving himself a little hip stretch.
“It’s nice. I’d love to see you naked in this firelight, but I’m not going to do that to you tonight. I’ll save that for the sleeping bags.” Saul laughed softly. “Maybe tomorrow night, if you’ve been a good boy, I’ll figure out a way to keep you warm out here with my crop or my flogger. I think we’re both a little tired for that right now.”
It had been a long few days, no question.
He knelt, breathing into all the little hurts, the nagging pain from the burn on his wrist, the ache in one shoulder, letting them go.
“I was thinking last night about how much I’m looking forward to the next get-together at Carter and Geoff’s house. I guess it’s a couple of weeks away still, but I liked those guys. I liked how I felt like I belonged there.”
Troy wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to answer or just listen, so he smiled and nodded. He got that. He’d been drifting, and Geoff and Carter and the others had become the family he’d lost, and God knew he’d lost a ton of that. The guys were his safe space.
Saul’s fingers were warm on his shoulder despite the chilly night. “You’re a good boy,” his Master said in a soft voice, after another long silence. “You’ve been good for me. Everything matters when I’m with you. You… make me want to get it right. I like that.”
He leaned and lifted one shoulder, kissing Saul’s fingers gently. He tried to be a decent man, a faithful friend, a solid lover, so maybe he was doing something right.
“Why don’t you bank the fire and do whatever stretching you want to do and then come to bed. I’ll go get the tent in shape for us to sleep in. Sound good?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m on it.” He slowly moved out of the position Saul had asked for, aching in the cold parts. He put his shoes on and covered the fire up. Then he grabbed a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, heavy socks, and changed out of his jeans there by the truck.
Jeans weren’t stretch friendly, and he hadn’t worn loose work jeans in a long time.
He saw another lantern go on inside the tent and Saul’s shadow moving around inside like a fly in a lampshade, distorted and shadowy. His Master was humming something catchy, happy, but he didn’t recognize what it was.