Joe tightened his grip around Scott’s wrist. “I’ll be the one who decides that, not you.”
He calmly tugged Scott’s whole body closer as he turned his hand over to get a better look at the damage. Scott blushed, half at having made so much of a fool of himself and half because it really seemed like Joe cared that he might be hurt.
Joe turned on the car’s interior light. Silently cursing, Scott fumbled to do up his fly with his free hand.
“Stop fidgeting.”
Scott hesitated for a moment. It wasn’t a tone of voice that invited disobedience. In an effort to compromise, he stilled, but left his hand resting over his softened cock.
Joe made no comment on that. All his attention remained on Scott’s hand.
“You’ll live,” he eventually announced, releasing his wrist.
Scott hastily finished doing up his fly, but he had no idea what to say. The silence stretched out between them until Scott couldn’t bear it a moment longer.
“Thank you.”
Joe chuckled. “You’re very welcome.”
Scott shook his head. “N-not for the…” he waved a hand at his crotch. “I mean for…you said on our last d-date about showing me part of your w-world…”
Joe’s smile seemed to turn a little gentler. “You’re welcome for that, too. This was the first pub I went to after I came out—my first taste of what it was like to be gay.”
Scott stared down at his hands, desperately trying to think of something to say in response.
“You know this means it’s your turn next, right?” Joe asked, entirely out of the blue.
Scott glanced across the car at him. It took him a second to realise Joe was talking about the envelopes. “There’s n-nothing about my life that you’d f-f-find interesting.”
Joe shrugged, turning his attention to the wall of the pub. “Maybe you’d be surprised. You’re nowhere near as boring as you seem to think you are.”
Scott automatically studied Joe’s profile, trying to work out if Joe was making a joke at his expense, and what the punchline might be, so he’d be ready to laugh along with it.
Joe frowned as he turned his head and met Scott’s eyes. “I’m not laughing at you.”
Scott looked down.
“Is that why you’re interested in submission?” Joe asked, his tone becoming more serious by the moment. “Because you’re so used to being bullied, you’ve decided that’s the way you deserve to be treated?”
Scott opened his mouth, only to close it again without saying a word.
“Well?” Joe pushed.
“I just like doing what you s-s-say,” Scott rushed out.
Joe’s expression slowly eased. His smile came back. “Good, because I’ve got lots more orders to give you.”
“I don’t m-mind not having a turn,” Scott offered, more than ready to give away any opportunity to screw up. “You could just—”
Joe cut him short with a shake of his head. Reaching into his back pocket, he took out a crumpled envelope. There was nothing written on it. It wasn’t sealed. The piece of folded paper it came with was blank.
Scott took a deep breath, having no idea what he could possibly write on it that would please Joe.
“You don’t need to fill it in now,” Joe said. “Take a while to think about it. In the meantime, you can drop me off at my place on your way home.”
Yes, driving. That would be a good idea. Scott frowned at the car’s controls, wondering why they looked so different to normal. He reached out to the pedals. His legs were too short.
“You might want to pull your seat forward,” Joe hinted. He didn’t laugh, but Scott knew he was amused.
