Francis got to his feet and gestured toward the door. “Lead the way?”
So Mark did.
* * * *
He had no time to think during the short drive, courtesy of a small-scale traffic jam as they got stuck behind a snow plow. Mark kept glancing at his rearview mirror, making sure that Francis was there. Every time he was, Mark’s stomach clenched. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing.
Too soon, they were parking in front of his house, and for a brief moment Mark wondered what the small home looked like to Francis.
Then it was time to face the music, and Mark trudged to the front door to unlock it. Francis followed him, and when they were inside, they shed their outerwear without speaking. It felt… momentous, having Francis in his home like this.
Before Mark could say anything, Francis touched his arm. “Go put away your gun and change into something more comfortable. I’ll wait here.”
Mark found his feet took him to the bedroom where his safe was inside his small walk-in closet. He did as Francis asked, and felt oddly at peace doing it. He knew that whatever this was—and it wassomething, he was intelligent enough to know that—would need to be discussed. Francis was right about that. It didn’t mean that Mark wasn’t scared, though.
He changed into his comfiest T-shirt and sweats, and went back to the living area where Francis sat on Mark’s ancient Chesterfield couch.
“Sit,” Francis said quietly, gesturing to the other end of the sofa.
Mark took a seat sideways, with one leg bent on the couch, facing Francis.Like a man.His father’s voice in his head made his skin crawl.
“So…?” Mark tried to keep his gaze on Francis’s face, if not his eyes.
“So. There’s obviously a massive can of worms on the other side of your phone call and we’re not going to talk about that. That’s your business unless you choose to make it mine,” Francis said in a measured, even tone.
Mark felt as if something had been lifted from him, and he knew he’d been thinking about Francis wanting to talk about… them. Now that he didn’t, Mark felt relief. It ended up being premature.
“Okay,” he said, then gestured at Francis to continue.
“The gist of this all is that I think you’re submissive,” Francis said quickly, as if ripping off a Band-Aid.
At first, the words didn’t register, but then they did. “Wait, what?” Mark gawked at Francis, feeling several things battling inside him. Everything from outrage to aggression to something like vulnerability, and at the bottom of it all was… gratitude?
Francis lifted his palms. “Now, hear me out. It doesn’t make you weak. You’ve got to be one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, based on what I know of you already.” Mark knew Francis was referring to the unspoken can of worms. “What happened in Green Bay was me taking care of myself at first, sure. I can admit that I went into it like I would’ve with any other closeted man who I know could hurt me pretty badly if they chose to, okay?” Francis leaned back toward the other end of the couch as he spoke, and Mark realized he was trying to put him at ease.
Mark nodded. He understood that, maybe too well in some ways. “Precautions, I get it. I’ve seen what happens when people get reckless about that stuff.” He frowned, then blinked quickly a few times to get rid of the images in his head.
“But then you….” Francis wetted his lips. “I told you to do something, and you… just did it. And you went pliable, Mark. You let me do what I wanted, and you let go, didn’t you?”
Mark swallowed hard and tore his gaze away from Francis completely. His heart was beating fast again as he went back to that night. Yes. He’d somehow felt compelled to do what Francis told him to, stay within his guidelines, and he’d… he’d felt floaty.
“But what does it mean?”
“It means that I fucked up,” Francis said, and he was wincing when Mark’s gaze snapped to his face.
“What?”
“I scened with you, so to speak, and then I let you leave when you freaked out. I gave you instructions and asked for consent, but I didn’t do any aftercare, because I didn’t understand what we were actually doing right then.”
“Okay, back up, can you….” Mark waved his hand a little, trying to decipher what Francis had said, trying to find a spot where he could start to unravel his words.
“Okay, okay.” Francis seemed to think, then he began to talk again. “You know what BDSM is, right?”
“Yeah, all that bullshit in those movies and the books all the women read, right?” Mark couldn’t remember the name of the series, but Francis’s expression turned funny, making Mark smile. “What?”
“Those have nothing to do with actual real life BDSM. They’re the very bare bones kind of fudged-up attempt to sell shit to people. I won’t go on that tangent, don’t worry.” Francis sighed. “So, what we did falls under the D and the S on BDSM. Dominance and submission.”
“So you bossed me around and we both got off on it, that about the gist of it?” Mark grinned, attempting levity when he wasn’t feeling anything but mild anxiety and some hesitant curiosity.
