Page 82 of Wrestling with Daddy

“Walk me through how it’s not fair.”

“Because,” Nathan protested, “becauseIdon’t know what I’m feeling and I don’t understand myself half of the time. And it’s not a brat thing, it’s an I’m a mess thing, and you can’t blame my being a brat for everything when it may have nothing to do with it. Which you would know if you werelistening!”

Nathan had riled himself up quite a bit with that rant, nostrils flaring.

Ken took a step back, using the wall farthest from the door as support. “That’s a good point,” he conceded, tone measured. “Your attitude right now is not. I can’t help you work through all those things you can’t name if you’re going to lash out at the first sign of trouble. It’s not safe for either of us.”

Ken braced himself for the boy’s response, more of that anger and that lashing out which would start cutting into his skin soon—the one that he had to disassociate from past experiences.

“I’m scared,” the boy mumbled.

It was barely audible, but it was also the first truly sincere thing that had come out of Nathan’s mouth since he’d walked through the door.

Ken’s tone matched the boy’s in softness before he even made a conscious choice to do so. “What scares you, Nathan?”

That took some thought before an answer came. Or maybe Nathan was still brimming with that undefined anger Ken was starting to suspect was more directed to himself than anyone else.

“Can we… sit?” Nathan requested, eyes on the floor. “I think I’d really like some kind of contact.”

Ken winced.

No way he could say no to the boy in front of him when he spoke like that. Not without breaking his heart to pieces, and Ken was definitely not into the idea.

“Come here.”

Nathan practically flew to his arms the moment Ken relaxed his posture, not needing any other encouragement. Ken cursed. He should’ve just pulled Nathan into his arms the second he walked into the door looking frenzied, but the shock of Lee’s call and everything else that had been going through his mind…

He’d fucked up.

“Come on,” Ken whispered, maneuvering them easily so they were on the bed, Nathan quickly shifting so he was all over him in that koala style of his.

“I’m a fake,” Nathan mumbled against the fabric of his shirt, his hands grabbing fistfuls of it.

“What does that mean?”

It wasn’t any of the possible reasons Ken had thought Nathan would give.

“I… I’ve never been to a pupnic before, S-Sir. Or… played with anyone.”

“You’ve played with me.”

Truthfully, Ken hadn’t meant to be cheeky. They were just the only words that came out while he tried to solve the puzzle he’d just been given.

“Well, I…” Nathan retracted fast, “I’ve played, online, and I’ve read, and texted with other puppies and handlers and I’ve been in online moshes in full gear and done stuff there.”

“Okay…”

“The only time I tried to play offline was at the Valentine’s thing.” Nathan sighed. “You know how that went, so…”

Ken nodded. He’d wanted to go to that club and kick each and every Dom who hadn’t been there for his pup when he’d needed them to. That was precisely why he’d gotten more involved with the event this year, why he’d convinced Nathan to not miss a thing.

This was going to be a good experience for him to wash away all that hurt with.

Instead… Ken could picture what had happened more clearly now, even if he’d still need to hear Nathan’s version. The pup must’ve gotten overwhelmed, feeling alone for what was a rather big first experience.

“All right.” Ken ran a hand through his hair, let his fingers run through the silky strands. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” he grumbled.