Page 11 of Collin, Episodes 4-6 (The Residency Boys #2)

Ellisandre shot Collin a glare over their shoulder. “This is boring. He wants to wear boring clothes and sit in an office all day not being seen. There’s no art, no creativity, no drama. I thought at least with that hair that there was some imagination.”

Collin girded his temper. “Ash, if you could dress up like anyone, something interesting, maybe a comic book character, what would you be?”

“A wizard.”

“What kind of wizard?”

“Um…lots of different kinds of wizards. I mean, wizards don’t always look the same, right?”

“Fair.” Collin drew on every scrap of DnD roleplaying he had ever managed to eke out in his overly committed youth.

“Ellisandre, would you please help Ash dress like a powerful techno-mage who must frequently pass as human enough to not be bothered by human officials? Something to win their trust while instilling a proper amount of respect for the awesome powers hidden beneath a somewhat frail human-looking visage.”

Ellisandre tapped a finger to their nose. “This is a more interesting challenge.”

“Pockets.” Ash busted out. “I need pockets. For my tools and things.”

“Smuggler’s pockets but not ones seen by shopkeepers, so they don’t think he’s stealing.” Collin tilted his head for emphasis.

Ellisandre swayed and went from one rack and then to another. “Illusion. Delusion. Yes. We can play with this. Does gender matter?”

Collin spread his hands. “I don’t know. Ash?”

“I’m not wearing a dress.”

“But what about a skirt or kilt?”

“What’s a kilt?”

“A man’s skirt that hides a multitude of sins or crimes.” Ellisandre eyed Ash’s legs. “We’ll have to see if you can carry it off.”

“I’m off.” Collin put his hand in the air.

“Ellisandre, think of Ash as an alien. If you keep him more than a couple hours, feed him. Remember he’s not full-grown.

Make him drink water. Ash, call me if you have a problem.

Don’t stay out too late. If you do, make sure you take a taxi or a rideshare, got it?

Text me when you’re where you’re sleeping for the night. ”

“Yes, Dad.” Ash scowled. “It’s not like I haven’t been taking care of myself.”

Collin rolled his eyes. “My goal for you is a little higher than bare survival. Ellisandre, thank you. Please give him back to me in one piece.”

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.

Collin dragged his feet to his room and threw himself down on his bed. But that wasn’t comfortable. He was thirsty but in too much discomfort to drink.

I should just use the key. You’re being stupid. He sent you the key; that means he meant you to use it.

It didn’t feel like Mr. Reevesworth had sent him the key, though.

Someone who wasn’t the man who had put it on him had come and just given it to him.

Without instructions. Maybe it was just for emergencies?

Maybe he was supposed to wait for a call that allowed him to use the key.

Maybe he was supposed to call to use the key.

He said he’d keep me close.

Collin curled up, knees to his chest. This doesn’t feel close.

He checked the time again. He should get up and make Damian a real meal soon. It was past lunchtime, even if Damian had just had a snack. Left on his own, Damian would probably stay on that call.

Someone came in the front door. Collin started to sit up, then recognized the footsteps. Mr. Moreau. But he should check on Mr. Moreau too. The man had been to the clinic.

Collin dragged himself upright and went out into the hall. Mr. Moreau was just opening the door to his bedroom. He had a new bandage on his cheek, and the one on his arm had been redone professionally.

“You’re going to be all right?”

Mr. Moreau startled, looking up, then away. “Um…yes. And Artemis too.”

Collin shifted his weight between his feet. Well, this was awkward. Why was this awkward? The man looked like he just wanted to get away.

“Would you like lunch, sir?”

“Uh…” Mr. Moreau looked away, then nodded. “Yes, please, Collin. That would be lovely.” Then he went into his room and closed the door.

Collin let out a long breath through his nose. Yep. Nothing, nothing wrong at all. Somehow, you’ve fucked it all up, and you don’t even know why.

Somewhere, in the very back of his brain, he knew he should knock.

He should ask, something, anything. He should fess up about not using the key.

Or he should call his dom. But he couldn’t.

Mr. Reevesworth was at the vet, taking care of a broken bone.

Surely that trumped Collin’s nonsensical dilemma.

He found his way to the kitchen, put on an apron, and opened the fridge to see what he could make.

By the time he served Damian lunch, the need to urinate was so painful he felt like he was sweating. His hands were almost shaking as he made his way down to the master bedroom and knocked.

“Yes?”

Collin squared his shoulders. “Lunch, sir?”

“Oh, of course.”

Mr. Moreau opened the door. He was dressed in his relaxed linen pants with bare feet, and his shirt was open to the waist. Collin’s eyes caught on the hollow just below Mr. Moreau’s breastbone. The man was beautiful.

Collin tore his eyes away. “I can bring it or put it on the table, sir.”

“I’ll come to the kitchen. You really didn’t have to trouble yourself, Collin.”

Collin made his hands into fists. “No trouble, sir.”

In the kitchen, Collin laid two places, one for Mr. Reevesworth and one for Mr. Moreau. Mr. Moreau sat down, and Collin put a plate in front of him.

“You’re not eating, Collin?”

“Oh, I’m…not hungry.” Collin turned around and pretended to check the fridge. “What would you like to drink?”

Mr. Moreau didn’t answer at first. Collin looked up.

“Is something wrong, Collin?”

Yes, you haven’t called me kitten in at least two days. “No, sir. I mean, maybe I’m worried about Artemis, but it’s just her tail, right?”