Jay looked relieved, and a twinge of tenderness clenched Aaron’s chest. This sweet, confident guy with a perpetual smile on his face was turning out to be deceptively deep. Aaron felt a strange desire to protect Jay from the world, to keep him safe from taking on a pile of emotional burdens that weren’t his to bear.
He reluctantly let go of Jay’s wrist. Jay watched the movement before responding. “I’m glad it wasn’t me. Did you go on vacation?”
“Not quite.” This conversation was coming up a lot quicker than expected, but it was Aaron’s fault for volunteering the information. Might as well lay it all out there. “I went back to Philadelphia to help my ex-husband finalize the sale of our house and grab the last of my boxes.”
A look of shock washed over Jay’s face, his eyebrows shooting up.
“Yeah,” Aaron admitted with a self-deprecating shrug. “I just got divorced. Right before I moved here, actually.” When Jay didn’t respond, Aaron went on. “We’re still really good friends, so I spent some time with him and his girlfriend. We went out to dinner to celebrate the sale, although that might have been an excuse to eat fancy sushi.”
Jay’s strange reaction puzzled him. Sure, divorce wasn’t great, but what were the chances of a young guy at a BDSM club being particularly judgmental about it?
Thankfully, Jay snapped out of it at the mention of sushi. “Oh, sushi’s amazing! There’s this place right next to my office, and I’ve been obsessing over their deep-fried spicy tuna roll for the past month.”
If Jay wanted to skip over the divorce thing, Aaron was happy to oblige.
“I will accept your deep-fried roll and raise you the double-deep-fried monstrosity I had in Louisiana. They deep-fried sweet potatoes, wrapped them in rice, and fried the whole thing again. Absolute heaven.” Aaron laughed at Jay’s horrified expression. Bantering with him felt natural, as if they were old friends rather than two strangers who’d barely spent an hour together. He didn’t know why, but being around Jay felt comfortable and safe.
The evening drifted by in a warm haze of their easy back-and-forth. Their couch was a bubble, isolated from the shifting tide of bodies filling the club. Aaron forgot he was there to watch and learn, instead pressing into Jay’s side as they shared personal tidbits, pop culture opinions, and favorite food memories.
They tried to outdo each other when it came to telling stories. Aaron delivered a passionate monologue about being a pescetarian in a city obsessed with cheesesteaks, which Jay followed up with a dramatic retelling of his thought process during a month-long juice cleanse, which, in his case, only lasted six days.
At some point during their animated discussion, they discovered they had the same favorite TV shows, and spent fifteen minutes blurting out quotes in between fits of giggles. A few people nearby cast lingering glances their way, eyebrows lifting with curiosity. It had to be an unusual sight—two fully clothed men grinning at each other in a dark corner, paying no mind to the enticing debauchery that surrounded them.
Several regulars approached them throughout the night, greeting Jay and giving Aaron coy smiles before moving on. He didn’t know what Jay usually did at the club, but he had an inkling that whatever was happening between the two of them was out of the ordinary.
Not that he was going to question his good luck. Aaron hadn’t had this much fun in a long time, and he wished the night would never end. The conversation flowed smoothly, seamlessly jumping from one topic to the next, silly moments of laughter balancing out the stretches of genuine discussion.
The subject eventually turned to downtown Chicago. By a strange coincidence, it turned out that Aaron’s job was just down the street from Jay’s. Always up for a leisurely walk, Aaron quizzed him about the parks in the area, but despite growing up in Chicago, Jay’s knowledge of parks left much to be desired. Aaron teased him about it until Jay admitted to living in the suburbs and avoiding downtown as much as possible.
When Aaron checked his watch, it was well past midnight. They’d spent the entire night with each other.
He couldn’t wait for more.
Kink Talk
SubSequins: Question for the group. If I’m dating people in the lifestyle, should I tell them I’m totally new to the whole thing right off the bat or after a few dates? Has anyone run into people being dicks about it?
SubLily: I think it’s better to get it all out in the open right away.
DomAndDommer: I would want to know early. Maybe not as soon as we meet, but like after one or two dates? I don’t mind either way, but it’d be good to know so I could ease them in.
DommyBoy: I vote for right away—better to filter out anyone who’s going to be weird about it early on so you don’t waste your time.
SubMarine: I think you should wait. No need to bring it up until you get to know each other on equal footing.
SubLily: Are you suggesting that being inexperienced makes you less than equal?
SubMarine: Feels that way. It makes you vulnerable because you’re putting your trust in them to guide you.
DomicronPersei8: I feel like this conversation would go differently if Sequins was a Dom.
DommyBoy: True.
SubAir: Hot take here, but I don’t plan on telling. I’ll admit to being kinda inexperienced, but fuck if I’m going to admit to being a 40-year old BDSM virgin.
SubSequins: Wouldn’t that undermine the trust you’re building with your Dom?
SubAir: I can offer someone my trust without laying myself completely bare.
