Page 31 of Collin: Episodes 7-9
Collin buried his face in Mr. Moreau’s neck and whimpered. “Still need you. And not just for cum.”
“I know, mon petit chaton. I know. Cum is only a representation.”
Collin rumbled in the back of his throat. “Though you do taste good.”
Mr. Reevesworth chuckled. “Noted. Perhaps I will use that to our advantage at a future date.”
Collin did not go back to being silent for the rest of the day. Mr. Reevesworth and Mr. Moreau were more concerned with checking on his mental state. He was required to crawl and stay on the leash, but Damian rolled a ball around on the floor for him to fetch for a while. Playing with Damian was fun. He got to tease the man and bite his clothes, and they’d eventually ended up roughhousing a little. Collin lost badly. Damian was simply stronger than him.
When he complained about it, Damian cuddled him and reminded him he had had a personal trainer and excellent living standards for years. “You’ll start going to the gym next week, and you’re already putting on weight.” Then he’d pinched Collin’s ribs and tickled him, initiating another five minutes of squirming and squawking on Collin’s part.
Afterward, Collin crawled into the office and curled up under the desk on Mr. Reevesworth’s feet with a blanket and napped before dinner. It felt like he was catching up on years of sleep.
Dinner was leftovers in the kitchen. Collin sat on a cushion between Mr. Reevesworth’s legs and ate from his fingers. He felt a little lost and somehow sad for no reason. Every time the feelings bubbled he curled up tighter around the man’s leg and bit at his pants. Mr. Reevesworth’s hand would come down and play with his hair, and he’d put his thumb in Collin’s mouth. Somehow, that helped. He floated in a state that felt only half real but certainly safe and isolated from anything in the outside world. Damian offered to clean up, and Mr. Reevesworth and Mr. Moreau accepted. They took Collin back to their room with them.
In the room, Mr. Reevesworth kissed his husband and gave Collin a squeeze on the shoulder. “I’m going to go check in with Damian for a while. Collin, you can stand up now. It’s time to start bringing you more out of it. Émeric has you. Don’t try to be independent yet. Just do as he says and tell him if you’re feeling needy at all. If you need me, just say so.”
Collin climbed to his feet slowly. It felt a little odd after being close to the ground all day. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Yes, sir.”
“Good boy.” Mr. Reevesworth kissed him between the eyes while cupping the back of his head and then released him, striding from the room.
Collin watched him go, almost bereft, but then Mr. Moreau was there, smelling like wine and good food and warmth, and Collin leaned into him, enjoying the soft muscles of his chest and the solidness of his belly.
“Why do I feel like crying, sir? It seems like all I do is cry since I came here. I don’t know why you all don’t think I’m a wimp.”
“A wimp would have turned tail and run the first time he met Richard or even before that, during the research you did that attracted Richard’s attention in the first place. You’re crying because you’re releasing, boy. And because you’re feeling things truly and deeply. The depth and the genuineness of your emotion is a gift. Many people walk through this world without even knowing what they are feeling. They’re numb.”
“I think I was numb, but then all of you broke through that, and now I can’t be numb at all. Please, don’t send me back. I think…I think I’m broken for all that now. It doesn’t feel like I can put everything back into the box and lock it up, not like I did before.”
Mr. Moreau wrapped both arms around Collin and held him close. “That’s the difficult thing, Collin. To become something new, we have to become unsuited to the thing we were before. And that is one of the scariest things about changing and growing as a person, knowing that we can’t go back. That’s what scared me about loving Richard. He was my first great love. I knew once I let him inside I would never be able to forget what it was like to love and be loved by someone like him. Either I would be more than I had been, stronger and happier with him in my life, or I would be cut open and the bearer of a scar where that love had once been.”
Collin wiped away tears. “How did you become brave enough to let him inside?”
“I’m not sure I ever did, not on my own. We lent each other bravery, little bits at a time, until one day we realized we had built a castle with both of us inside of it, together with each other.”
They showered together, and Collin held his own toothbrush and brushed his own teeth and drank more water from a cup he held himself. Each task he did for himself was a bit like waking up. Eventually, he crawled into bed. Mr. Reevesworth returned just as Collin was lying down. He kissed Collin into the mattress, and Mr. Moreau took the moment to tend to Artemis in the walk-in closet.
“Are you okay if I go into the bathroom and leave you for a moment?” Mr. Reevesworth asked.
Collin nodded. He wasn’t going to be clingy. He could handle being alone. Or so he thought. Three minutes later, loneliness was crawling up his throat. He left the bed and crept into the bathroom. Mr. Reevesworth was just flushing the toilet. He didn’t say anything but washed his hands and beckoned Collin closer. Collin wrapped himself against his side while the man brushed his teeth and took care of his evening routine. He felt silly, but feeling silly was better than shivering miserably by himself.
Morning came gently. He lay there, drifting toward full wakefulness, between his two sleeping doms, trying to decide how he felt. There was a bit of a lost feeling, like a gate had been blown open inside of himself and there was now too much space. But then he thought of the office and Ash, and thinking of Ash made him smile. And then thinking about how Ash was sleeping in a torn sleeping bag under his desk made him grimace. And even though one part of his head felt like there was too much space, this other part of his head felt solid and real. The too much space part of himself was a problem for Mr. Reevesworth and Mr. Moreau. They had created it, and they wanted it. If they wanted to make him weepy and needy, then they got to deal with him weepy and needy. It didn’t seem like they minded, as unreal as that felt. Work Collin, though, was still who he had always been, or at least he wanted the chance to prove that he was, if only to himself. Maybe work Collin couldn’t run his whole life anymore, but he was still capable, still present, just not the primary Collin.
And he had evidence to prove he was still capable. The day he’d typed up his observations for Mr. Reevesworth with his leg tied up under him, he’d done as well, if not better than, he had ever done. His mind had been clear and peaceful and focused, and he knew he’d given good work.
Could he do both? Could he be both? Maybe, just maybe, work Collin was a better Collin if he wasn’t the only Collin. He rolled over and studied Mr. Reevesworth’s face. Was it really a both question, or was he the same person here with his master and his sir as he was at work? He’d done the whole splitting himself before, in middle school and high school, after his dad had died and while his mother was going through cancer treatment. But maybe he didn’t have to. Maybe there were just people who were close enough and worthy enough and who wanted to share certain things with him who were able to pass through to certain levels of Collin, but he could still be Collin all the way through all the time.
Be Collin. His chest expanded emotion. When was the last time, before he met Mr. Reevesworth and Mr. Moreau, and Damian, Linda, and Ellisandre, and yes, even Ash, where he had had the space, even inside himself, to…be Collin? It was a ludicrous thought, but it persisted.
Maybe when he was writing his research? He’d been himself then. But he’d thinned out, disappeared, somewhere between then and that day he’d woken up on the floor of that break room with a concussion. He’d run out of time for himself. And then he’d run out of himself.
But now he was himself, all over, in all the cricks and crannies. This strange feeling was him. He was feeling…himself. Awake. Aware.
Collin squeezed his eyes shut. Mr. Reevesworth had been remembering him, holding him as real, all those months, even while Collin lost himself, before Collin even knew Mr. Reevesworth existed. Well, they all had been. Mr. Moreau, Damian, Linda, and Ellisandre had all been remembering for him, preserving him.
They’d called him back to them and now to himself.
Collin blinked away tears and let the feeling of existence fill him. Perhaps this was part of the too much space, too. Not just yesterday, but all of it, all of where he was and what he was now. Yes, he was still squirming in embarrassment of what he’d done yesterday, but he trusted. He did, truly, trust. And he’d given up the power of deciding whether or not to be embarrassed. He would be embarrassed, but he didn’t need to control that. It would or would not happen, and it was up to others to keep him safe. As Mr. Reevesworth had said, he didn’t need his dignity; he had his master.
