Payne, on the other hand, submitted because he truly drew pleasure out of every act. He didn’t need to be seen doing things, but he did crave the praise that came when we saw the results. His need to serve, to be useful, came from a core-deep belief that it was part of a circle of give and take, and it gave him comfort and peace knowing he got to play a part in that. An equal part.
My grandfather’s old saying about a sum being equal to its parts, echoed through my head as Payne flipped to the next image. In it, our mouths were hanging open as we’d stared wide-eyed at the screen. Comically wide, in fact. Almost popping out of our heads. And the reason was depicted on the television screen he’d drawn. It was a scene fromThe Prestige, when the audience finally learns that the reason the magic tricks had been successful was because the magician had an identical twin and that they’d been working together to perform them.
Talk about a holy-shit moment.
No blood, no gore, no creature popping out of someone’s chest, just the ultimate sleight of hand. Talk about awesome. We’d been so blown away that we’d sat there for several moments, stuttering through attempts at snark, until Wylde had muttered something that had almost come across as profound.
Two men sharing one life is never going to be easy, but they proved that it can be done.
Yeah, I happened to agree with that, which was how I knew it was time to bite the bullet and just spit out the question that had been occupying my thoughts all day.
“Payne, how attached are you to your plan of moving into the service sub suites and working for the Ranch?” I blurted before he could turn to show us what was on the next page in his sketchbook.
“I love it here; I don’t want to leave,” Payne replied.
“And I’m not suggesting you do,” I said. “You belong here as much as we do.”
“What he’s asking is if you would like to be ours and move into a house with us instead of the suite. We can move from the employee apartments and get a home on the Ridge. You can take care of our home and the garden we know you’d love to put in. Cosplay as much as you’d like, because we’ve really enjoyed slipping into the roles you create for us,” Wylde said, taking over for me.
“Basically, what we’re saying is that we’d like you to be our sub and share a life with us here on the Ranch, because as cheesy as this might sound, you really do complete us, and we need that, desperately. We need you. So please say yes,” I added.
First, he squealed, then he tossed the sketchbook on the table and climbed into my lap, hugging the breath out of me as he cried,"Yes, yes, yes," with all the passion and excitement as when he’d been sprawled on the table in the Dungeon, having an orgasm while stuffed full of Wylde’s cock.
Wylde’s arms wrapped around us, hugging from the side as our boy clung to me, giggling while dampening my shirt with happy tears.
Our boy.
Payne belonged to us now. His pleasure, his happiness, his needs, and his joy were in our hands to protect and nurture.
The past had taught me that failure would happen. We would disappoint one another from time to time, we’d feel like shit over it, we’d work to correct our mistakes, we’d vow to never do it again, and we’d be mindful the next time a similar situation cropped up, because in the end, we’d grow together. Because that was what life within this sort of dynamic was all about.
Evolving, changing, exploring, discovering, and forging bonds and connections that allowed each individual to become the strongest person they could be. Because the sum really did equal the parts, and when all the parts worked together, the sum could be a glorious thing indeed.
Chapter Thirteen
Wylde
“Why haven’t you thrown away the Bull and Barrel Bash flyer yet?”
Thor’s question came out of the blue while I was in the middle of making out a supply list for the garden Payne had sketched out the night before. Tomorrow, we would say goodbye to the cabin and move him into our new home with us, and I was excited for that and the pots I intended to pick up once I’d worked out how many we needed.
I’d spent over an hour at the greenhouse, talking to the people who tended to the plants, taking notes on pot sizes, soil-to-fertilizer ratios, and gardening tools, including gloves, since Payne worked with his hands in almost everything he did, so they’d need to be protected.
Now Thor wanted to talk about that damned flyer again, which hadn’t been on my to-do list for the day.
“Because I haven’t decided if I’m going to enter or not yet,” I replied, which was the truth, even if it was way more complicated than that.
“You cannot be serious right now!” he declared.
“Well, I am.”
“No way you have clearance to do that. No fucking way. Your breathing isn’t right. I noticed during the marshmallow game, and don’t you dare tell me you weren’t struggling because even after Payne showed you the proper technique to use, you were still panting after every round. If you can’t breathe right, you can’t ride right. I know you know that. I know you remember the lessons Gramps taught. So how can you honestly be thinking about getting up on the back of another bull?”
“Technically, it would be three bulls, and it’s one day, Thorin, one. My last day, if I do it, and a part of me really wants to do it because going out on my back wasn’t the way I’d planned to end my rodeo career.”
“You don’t think I know that? Don’t you think that I feel the same way?”
He asked, like I didn’t know, because I did, and that was one of the many, many questions I’d been wrestling with since picking up that flyer. “And if you were the one with the flyer, I’d let you make up your mind about it, and I’d support whatever choice you made.”