Page 61 of Collin: Episodes 4-6
As Collin headed for the door he heard, “But what if I break him and sew him back into one piece, does that count?” followed by Ash screeching, “I’m not fabric!”
His bladder started protesting on the way home. Collin clutched the key inside his coat pocket. He could duck into any of the various shops and cafés along the sidewalk and relieve himself. He could. But he couldn’t.
The line he was dancing on was certainly close to the point of requiring discipline. And he knew what the punishment would be—one hour of stimulation without coming. And it had been days since he’d come. But he couldn’t bring himself to cross the line.
The key was not his to use.
So instead, he used the sharp edges of it to bite into his skin and continued to walk.
Damian was lying on the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes, phone to his ear, when Collin entered The Residency. Collin toed off his shoes, put them on the shelf, and approached quietly. Damian raised his hand in greeting and hit mute on his screen.
“I swear…they won’t shut up.”
“That bad?”
“I’m not sure if I’m a lawyer or a therapist, but a therapist would be cheaper.”
Collin forced a grimace. “Sounds rough.”
Damian nodded.
“Have you eaten since the breakfast I made you?”
Damian shook his head.
“When’s the last time you had water?”
Damian looked toward his desk. “Does coffee count?”
“We both have the same dom. The answer is no.” Collin took off his coat and dropped it over a free chair. “Go back to your call. I’ll bring you something.”
In the kitchen, Collin’s bladder complained with every instance of water being poured, water running in the sink, and even water being splashed into a pot. Collin ignored it. That was a problem he didn’t have an answer for, but Damian’s state did have a solution, one he could bring about. He heated dashi stock in the pot and stirred in miso paste, then added chopped tofu at the very end, leaving it just long enough for the small cubes to warm. Then he transferred it all to the bowl, kicking himself for not just warming the tofu in the bowl with the warm soup instead of adding it to the pot. It splattered, and the tofu was still at the bottom of the pot instead of in the bowl for Damian to eat.
For a full second, he wanted to curse. His hands curled around the handles of the pot, and his eyes squeezed shut.
It won’t change anything. Just fish the pieces out with a ladle, serve the soup, change your shirt. You can do this.
He could. He’d just much prefer if something, anything, would feel good. Smooth. The way some of the previous days had…before he’d hit his head on the table and somehow set off an entire string of rough days.
The washcloth in the sink was enough to clean up most of the mess. Collin retrieved a tray and carried the soup out to Damian. He knelt on the floor, watching the surface of the bowl to make sure it didn’t splash over, and settled it on the coffee table in front of Damian.
Damian sat up, phone still to his ear, and stared. Then he looked to Collin. All at once, Collin realized he was kneeling in front of Damian.
“I’ll…I’ll bring water.” He stumbled to his feet and fled.
It took him more than thirty seconds to calm himself down in the kitchen. Then another minute to talk himself out of throwing himself at Damian and asking for help. Instead, he went to his room, changed out of his dirty shirt, and then kicked himself for forgetting the water. Back to the kitchen. He retrieved a bottle of mango juice and a bottle of spring water and carried them back to the living room. Damian was halfway through the soup already and brighter eyed.
“This is amazing. How did you know?”
Collin shrugged. “I figured you probably needed the vitamins and minerals. Miso has a lot of them. It’s good for digestion.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“Mr. Moreau.”
Collin dropped his eyes. Back when the man was talking to me. “I should go, leave you to your call. Find out how Artemis is doing.”
Damian nodded, but it was obvious his attention was on whatever was going down on the other end of his phone. It seemed both urgent and important. Most likely a crisis.
