Page 80 of The Menagerie

A privilege he still can’t quite believe he gets to be a part of.

THEY’VE MADEgoing to Sheila’s diner a tradition of sorts, and it brings a welcome sense of familiarity to their sessions, coupled with an anticipation that has Rowan floating the entire walk there.

Because here, tucked away in the corner booth under the fluorescent lights, Rowan can actually get to know Mal’s mind rather than his body. Here he’s more than a bratty sub—he’s a wholeasspersonthat Rowan’s been dying to get to know since he first locked eyes with him at the gangbang three weeks ago.

And sure, he knows some of what Mal likes sexually. Knew some ofthatshit before he’d even spoken two words to the guy, so it’s easy to think he knows a lot about him. But so far everything he’s learned has been carefully curated, filtered, sterilizedalmost, in a way that makes him realize he doesn’t know the other man at all. It’s like he’s still getting Malcolm, this caricature that he’s sculpted to present to the outside world so he doesn’t have to get too close with anyone.

Rowan wants to knowMal.

The guy who’s friends with the Monroe twins and Jeremiah and a sweet old lady who runs the diner they’ve come to frequent.

The guy whose tattoos are equally delicate and threatening.

The guy who shares pie and cigarettes with an almost-stranger without batting an eye.

That’sthe guy Rowan wants to get to know, and he has no problem admitting that, even after only two scenes alone with him.

“SO, WHAT’Sthe verdict?” Rowan asks, pouring the packet of oyster crackers into his tomato soup.

“Was good,” Mal replies after he finishes a bite of his sandwich. But he doesn’t bother to look up from his food, diving in for another bite immediately.

It’s a relief, but it does little to dispel the feeling of being a kid and waiting on his teacher to pass back the test grades.

“That’s good. I’m glad, I mean.”

Fuck, he’s such an idiot. He shoves the corner of his grilled cheese into his mouth after dunking it in the tomato soup. But the bite of food, delicious as it is, isn’t enough to keep him from opening his big mouth again.

“Was uh… there anything you didn’t like? Or that I could do differently?”

In reality he knows that it’s good for them to talk about this shit. Get everything out in the open so there’s less chance for miscommunication and dissatisfaction and so they can learn each other and keep getting better every time. He suspects that the twinge of embarrassment in asking will fade eventually.

For the first time since they got their food nearly five minutes ago, Mal looks up, an amused smile on his face.

“You this much of a teacher’s pet in school too?”

The embarrassment becomes a full-on deluge, Rowan’s ears and face and neck undoubtedly flushing to clash with his hair.

“Not… I mean, I just—”

“Relax, Red. Just fuckin’ with ya. Woulda been concerned if youdidn’task that at some point.”

Rowan exhales a heavy breath and unclenches the facial muscles he didn’t know he’d clenched in an effort to chill out. Hell, less than an hour ago he had a mind-blowing orgasm with a smokin’ hot guy and is currently eating homemade grilled cheese and tomato soup, and he’s tenser than a guilty defendant on trial.

“I liked everything you did,” Mal says, as if sensing Rowan finally relax.

And that… well, it’s got Rowan feeling all sorts of things he doesn’t want to name right now. All of them soft and warm and pleasant.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm. You stuck to the acts we talked about beforehand. Checked in when you thought I was telling you ‘no’ or thought it was too much. Kept the dirty talk to shit I told you I liked.”

A thought strikes Rowan even through Mal’s praise of his performance.

“When I said I was gonna slap your face and you told me to do it, what’s….” He pauses, trying to figure out how to phrase his question. “We were obviously in the middle of the scene, so like… how much can I take what you say during that time seriously? I mean, I obviously wasn’t gonna do it right then, but is that something you’d be open to me doing in the future, or was that just heat-of-the-moment type shit?”

Mal sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, wetting it with his tongue. “In general, you should assume that anything we don’t explicitly talk about is just dirty talk. Kinda like you sayin’ you’d leave the room if I didn’t comply. We both know it’s not gonna happen, but it’s hot. The face slappin’ thing, though… Ididmean that.”

God, Rowan feels his cock jump at the thought. “Yeah?”

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