Page 37 of Matteo's Mettle
I float through my workday, riding on the endorphins from last night. Between finally saying those three little words to each other, hearing London tell me that he’ll choose me over his job and then seeing him rock the sexy as hell lingerie I bought for him, I honestly feel like maybe I’m dreaming. If I am, though, I don’t want to wake up.
When Ash calls me after I finish work, we agree to meet for beers at a little hole in the wall bar that’s roughly halfway between our houses. It’s a relaxed space, with scuffed cement floors and a hipster-industrial atmosphere. I get there before Ash and find a tall table with high, wrought-iron bar stools, snagging it for us and ordering two of the daily special brews, seeing as the drinks menu here rotates frequently.
Jesse, the guy behind the bar, grins at me as he hands over two tall glasses of pale ale, his dirty-blonde man-bun wobbling on top of his head as he excitedly tells me all about the brew I’m about to try. I’m not all that interested in hearing about the hops or the fruity infusion or whatever, but his passion for supporting local micro-breweries is actually kind of sweet, so I nod and make appropriate sounds of appreciation as required.
I’m still relieved when Ash saunters through the door and waves at me.
“That’s my cue,” I tell Jesse with feigned regret, lifting the beers in a gesture of thanks before sliding back over to the table I commandeered earlier. “Thanks.”
He waves me off and I set the glasses down on the worn timber table top before greeting Ash with a quick hug. He slips his messenger bag from his shoulder and drops it on top of the table next to his beer with a grateful sigh.
“Long day?” I ask.
He’s gone back to only working part time at Ted’s firm so that he can work on finishing his college degree. I know he hates studying, but with only two semesters to go at part-time (or one at full-time), Ash decided it made no sense not to see it out to the end. Besides, once he realized that he could put the knowledge and skills to work with Charlie’s business plans, that has only made him more determined to graduate.
“My statistics professor can kiss my ass,” he complains, dropping onto the stool across the table from me with a huff. “The assignment he’s set is worth fifty percent of my grade and it’s brutal.”
“Do you need help?” It’s no secret that I’m good with numbers, data and extrapolation. “I can look over your work before you submit it if you want.”
Ash’s smile turns grateful. “I’d love that. All my other classes are fine, but stats aren’t my thing.”
We chat about the parameters of his assignment for a little while and I offer him some pointers before he drains his glass and hisses through his teeth. “Okay, no more college talk. My brain is fried. I can’t handle it.”
I chuckle and nod, finishing the last of my drink as well. “That’s fair, dude. Take a break; it sounds like you’ve earned it.”
“Amen to that.” He swings around on his stool, slinking off it with the grace of youth and his slimmer frame. Snagging our glasses, he tells me the next round is on him and he crosses the narrow walkway between our table and the bar before I can argue.
I watch him banter with Jesse for a minute before he returns with two new glasses brimming with golden liquid and the perfect froth ratio. I thank him as I take my first drag from the new glass. The liquid is crisp and refreshing, even though I’ve already polished off one glass already.
“Okay, so I’ve whined enough about my day,” Ash settles himself back on his seat, running his finger through the condensation on the side of his glass while he cocks his head at me. “Your turn. How’s your week going?”
I can’t suppress the wide, happy smile that splits my face as I remember yesterday all over again.
“Well,” my best friend’s expression brightens to match mine, “that good, huh?” He leans across the table and places his hand over my forearm. “I’m glad to see it, Matt. Really. London’s perfect for you.”
“He is,” I agree. “We, uh, we did the whole ‘I love you’ thing yesterday.” I can feel my cheeks turning pink. “This whole thing has felt kind of surreal, but…” I trail off, shaking my head, unable to really put my jumbled mess of feelings and thoughts into words.
“Hey, I get it,” Ash laughs. “Remember, it wasn’t that long ago I was in the same boat. Well, maybe a similar boat.” He takes another sip of his drink then licks his lips contemplatively. He’s a couple of years younger than London, but has the same mature outlook on life. I know that, in his case, it’s because he had a rough upbringing with his asshole dad…and that makes me wonder whether London’s the same.
London and I have obviously spoken about our pasts and our personal baggage some, but he hasn’t really gone into detail about his childhood. I know he’s the child of a messy divorce, and that he adores his mother beyond words, but, to be honest, he doesn’t mention his dad very often. There’s a tiny part of me that worries he’s into me (or older men in general) because he’s got Daddy issues. Which, okay, given our kinky relationship and the roles we play, is really kind of hilarious.
“…fast, right?”
I shake my head, offering my friend a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” I apologize. “I got lost in thought for a minute there.” I lift my glass and eye him over the rim. “You were saying?”
Asher’s smile is understanding, as though he can guess where my thoughts went. He wouldn’t be completely wrong, even if he thought I was thinking naughtier thoughts about my man than I actually was.
“I was just saying that it feels like things are going fast, right? Like…things got serious kinda’ quickly?” Ash shrugs and sets down his beer, staring into it with a more serious expression on his face while he continues to muse aloud. “Thingsreallyflew with Charlie. In hindsight, it was almost scary how we went from complete strangers to falling for each other within weeks. Maybe even days. But,” he looks back up at me, a secretive little grin toying with the corners of his lips, “I’ve read, and the guys have all agreed, that it’s not wholly unexpected in the lifestyle, y’know? I mean, Charlie and I did go a lot faster than most, I think, but I…I needed that. I needed to feel wanted and grounded and looked after.”
“I can relate to that,” I nod. “And as long as you were both comfortable with it, who cares how fast you guys went? I mean, I gave London a key a month ago, when we’d only been together for two months.”
I know that Ash moved in with Charlie the day they met, but those were extenuating circumstances.
He bobs his head. “Like I said, I think a lot of it comes down to the lifestyle. As littles, we put a lot of trust in these guys and get attached to them in ways more traditional or vanilla relationships take additional time to develop or whatever.”
I can see his point. It’s not even the careful balance of power between the Daddy and boy roles, either. At least, not to me. Giving him control isn’t about being bossed around, but about letting him handle all the things that stress me out. There’s something about the amount of emotion that builds when Daddy’s being so nurturing. Something about letting go and being insanely vulnerable, and knowing that Daddy not only cares about my little side, but genuinely enjoys being my caretaker as much as I love having someone look after me like he does.
But with London there’s the additional level of trust he puts in me. I know that he has his hang ups about being a big, strong man who gets off on wearing frilly, lacy underwear, but he still lets me see him as he explores his kink. The feeling I get knowing that I’m the only person to ever see him do so is intoxicating.
