Page 36 of Designation: Null

When he comes out, Robert is finishing up a phone call.

“I’m starving,” Robert says when he hangs up. He explains what he brought to eat and moves past the awkward moment.

Craig was right, Robert does belong in this job. That’s annoying, too. He wants this to be personal but also might freak out if Robert makes it personal.

“Grab drinks, please.”

Logan goes over to the fridge and takes out bottles of water. He hands Robert one, too.

“Can you get a drink with electrolytes for the both of us? Sorry, I should have clarified. I’m a little distracted,” Robert says.

Logan takes the drink back and swaps them both out. Then they eat. Neither of them speaks until the first half of each sandwich is gone.

Robert hands Logan a bag of potato chips and Logan asks, “What happened to your knuckles?”

Robert raises a brow, as if he doesn’t understand the question.

“Your knuckles are bandaged.”

“Oh, it was nothing. How are you feeling now? I’m concerned that was… a lot.”

“A lot,” he repeats. Is that an accurate description? Maybe confusing is better. Life altering. Profound. Terrifying.

Logan is both desperate for more and tempted to run away. He wants that every day for the rest of his life—the oppression of Robert’s dominance and then the glittering light of the release.

Okay. Fine. They can call it “a lot” even if it is the understatement of the century.

Robert clears his throat. “Right. Well… you got what you needed and I’m glad I got to help you,” he says firmly, and offers Logan one of his chips.

BBQ.

Whatever.

Logan sighs, shakes his head, and stares down at the brown carpet. He doesn’t know what to do now. He’s embarrassed and ashamed, but Robert brought him a sandwich and told him he was good. They’re supposed to just act like this is normal.

“You’re not… mad?” Logan asks. Because there was a mess. And because he just passed out after the experience, and shouldn’t he have taken care of Robert? Gotten him off in some way? And that thought evokes so many foreign thoughts and strange desires that he swallows wrong and has to take a large gulp of his drink so he doesn’t choke.

“Why would I be mad?” Robert eats another chip. He’s relaxed in his chair. He props his foot on the coffee table between them and watches Logan closely.

Ah. He might look relaxed, but he isn’t.

“I feel like I’m in the middle of a psych eval,” Logan mutters.

“I’m not mad. It didn’t even occur to me to be mad. If I had to describe how I felt about what happened, I’d say happy and relieved,” Robert says softly.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. Relieved? What the hell doesthatmean? Logan can’t meet Robert’s gaze, so he gives great attention to the shiny material encasing his potato chips.

Happyandrelieved.

What is Logan supposed to do with that information? It doesn’t even fit into his worldview. “I don’t understand,” Logan says.

“Well, I don’t understand how you can think it’s a bad thing. Your body needed it. Even if I wasn’t your friend, or a good person who doesn’t want to see someone hurt, this is still my job. I can’t figure out how you think I’d be mad. Honestly, I wish I understood where you were coming from better.”

“It’s not your problem, though. Me.”

“Logan, no. It isn’t a problem.Youare not a problem. And it isn’twrong. Submissives need to submit. You can’t be healthy if you don’t.”

“I’m not submissive. I’m null.” That hangs between them and doesn’t feel honest. “Sometimes I used to dip down into a submissive range,” Logan confesses, “but that hasn’t happened in a long time.”

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