Page 25 of The Barn: Frost and Q
He understood what this was. It was easier for Q to believe in something bad than it was to risk getting hurt again. This was a test, just as sure as tugging on cuffs and cursing to get a spanking was one.
Q needed him to be what he promised he was. So, he closed the cuffs.
Quentin sat there with him, and they stared at each other for a moment. Quiet. Still.
Frost remembered what Scott, whose sub was in the wheelchair, had said to him on the phone.
It’s not going to be perfect. It’s not going to be just like it was before. You’re not looking for the same scene you’ve had a hundred times. You’re looking for today’s scene. Allow yourselfto be in the moment. If you need to mourn the past, do it before you start the scene.
Then he had said something that resonated deep in Frost’s soul.
We’re all just meeting each other where we are. All of us. We’re meeting each other where we are.
“How do they feel?”
“Heavy.”
They looked perfect on Q. Solid.
This was going to be a simple scene—a little bondage, maybe the blindfold, although he wasn’t sure. It seemed like a lot to him, to be honest, but it also felt a little bit like a cop-out. If Q couldn’t see him, then he didn’t have to be strong. He didn’t have to be sure.
That was part of all this, wasn’t it? Part of this whole thing was him doing his job and being the Dom that he needed to be.
Because Q needed him to do it, and he required this in his life. It was why he’d played into that stupid hand of poker to begin with. So he could invest in a safe place for them to do this.
And the irony made him want to scream.
But he kept it in, reminding himself that he was, if not in control of the situation, in control of himself. He had to be, or he couldn’t be a Dom. No beer to work himself up to this. No excuses. A sub, his sub, was putting his trust in Frost, and he had to deserve that.
It made him a better damn man.
“Flex your hands. Show me how much you can move.”
“Yes, Sir.” Q moved his fingers, then tried to move his wrists side to side, but there wasn’t a lot of that kind of give. His blood flow would be fine. His motion? Not so much.
Panic flared for a moment. He could almost feel Q’s fear. Taste it. But then Quentin looked up at him, and one by one,his tense muscles relaxed. He shifted in his chair under Frost’s stare, his eyes going heavy-lidded.
“Good boy.” Frost picked up the blindfold again and began to stroke the plush padding on the inside. He stood with a strong stance, legs planted wide, knowing Quentin would be able to see that his cock was rising hard and high in his black jeans. “I debated long and hard about the blindfold. Do you want to know what I decided?”
Quentin licked his lips. “Yes, Sir.”
“I thought you might wonder if I was hiding from you instead of the other way around. And, while I can’t say anything will be perfect, because no scene is anyway, I don’t want to hide. I want us to see honest reactions from each other.”
He waited to see if Q would say anything, or if he would wait to be prompted. He reacted beautifully, lowering his gaze, his cheeks stained pink.
“What do you think, boy?”
“I would like to try without the blindfold.” Q lifted his head again. “For the same reason. It’s tempting to hide, but if this is going to work, or fail miserably, it’s better to do it now.”
“Good. That’s good.” He walked around Quentin in a circle, making sure the brakes were set on the chair, helping Q adjust his posture a tiny bit in half a dozen ways.
“What do you feel now that you’re bound to the chair?”
“I—It’s different than when I usually sit in it.”
He moved around to face Q, dragging his fingers over the back of that hot neck as he came about. “Why?”
“Because this is for you.” Quentin’s voice was hoarse, but his words were perfect. They were exactly what Frost wanted to hear, but he didn’t think they were just put on for his benefit. He thought Q meant them.
