Darren Quinn
Darren knew that most people probably associated the metallic swish of a knife being sharpened with bad horror movies, but it was always a comfort to come home to. He'd bought the set of chef's knives for his husband the first Christmas they spent together, an indulgent stroke of genius that proved to be the perfect gift. Miles kept them perfectly maintained, and coming home to the sound of a blade on the sharpener usually meant very good things were to come.
Miles was always off work in time to be home when the kids got home from after-school activities, on the days that they stayed with them. Darren had slowly aligned his own working hours to be more reasonable as well. He liked being home for late dinner, and if things at Shimizu aligned - no members he needed to see personally, and someone available to intake any of the full access members - he'd try to leave early enough to distract Miles before dinner. On Thursdays, when the kids had dance lessons, it was almost always a sure thing.
"Hello, handsome." He stepped around one of the piles of half-packed boxes in the living room. Miles was fully dressed, sadly, though cooking naked was never a risk he took on 'kids' days unless they were absolutely certain of safety.
Miles paused to look back at him with a smile, but it had a strange, determined edge to it. "Hey, sexy. It's time to wash up and come join me. You're going to learn how to cook."
Darren stared at him, trying to process his words. His first reaction was pleasure, and no small amount of desire. Miles was so sexy that it was impossible to ever completely turn off how much Darren wanted him, both physically and as a submissive. His husband kept himself incredibly well-built, with large, strong muscles under just enough softness that making love didn't feel like humping a wall. It had been one of the things that had made it impossible to deny Miles when, as Darren's client, he'd confessed his feelings and asked if they could be more.
The other thing, of course, was how incredible it was to dominate him. Miles gave himself over to submission like he'd been trained his whole life, and was just as happy to be tied up, spanked, teased, or claimed as he was to throw Darren into bed and serve his pleasure with his incredible cock.
They didn't keep up the formal dom/sub dynamic all the time, of course. What they'd both wanted - a real relationship, a partnership - was too precious to insist on rules and roles outside of official playtime. Even if most of their intimacy inevitably became some degree of kinky.
It meant that the times when Miles took a more insistent hand with him were very sexy indeed. Being impressed - and turned on - by Miles's manner, it took a moment for it to really sink in what he'd said. "I'm - you - excuse me?"
Miles chuckled, rinsing off the knife and the sharpener carefully and tucking the latter in the drying rack. Leaving the knife on the counter, he turned to face him, holding out a barbecue apron. "We're making spaghetti bolognese. Together."
"For tonight? To feed the kids? Are you sure about that?"
Darren must have looked as terrified as that idea made him feel. Miles stepped closer, setting the apron aside and slipping an arm around his waist, kissing his temple. "Come on, it's not that bad. There are only five ingredients, and most of them come out of cans. You'll do fine, I promise."
"You really think this is a good idea?" Darren pointed out, trying to joke past a rush of discomfort. "There's a reason you banned me from the kitchen after the TSRI."
"TS... oh, the tomato soup and rice incident." Miles chuckled again. Good thing one of them was amused, though Darren still maintained it was a perfectly acceptable meal in a pinch. Well, maybe for a desperate college kid. "Well, here's your chance to redeem yourself. Trust me, Dare. It'll be alright."
Searching wildly for the defense of more humor and coming up blank, Darren swallowed hard. "I'm really not good at this."
"Even you can't be good at everything." Miles stroked the small of his back soothingly. "You're not bad at it. You're just unpracticed. That's why I'm here."
"To make sure I don't set the kitchen on fire?" Darren managed a smile.
"To teach you." His husband chuckled softly. Then his voice softened, gentle and reassuring in a way Darren thought Miles might have picked up from him. "Don't worry, alright? I'll take care of you. All you need to do is follow my instructions. If you make a mistake, I'll help you do better. I promise."
Whether he'd intended it or not, his words echoed ones that Darren had said to many new pupils, and Miles especially. He hadn't expected to be in a position to need them himself. But thefamiliarity soothed him, even if he rarely found himself taking instruction.
The calm, intent way Miles looked at him was beautiful. Would the Miles he'd met three years ago have even dreamed of being capable of this?
Maybe it would be best to lean into it.
He drew a slow breath. "Alright. I am your obedient pupil... Sir."
The corners of Miles's eyes crinkled adorably as he smiled, reaching up to caress his cheek. "Good boy," he said softly. He hesitated, then nodded towards a black paper gift bag sitting on top of a pile of boxes. "I think I'm going to give you a choice, since you're being so willing. Open that."
Lifting out the tissue paper, the first thing Darren's fingers encountered was soft and lacy. He took out the emerald green underwear, surprised and impressed. A package of stockings followed. "Oh... you did really like things the other day, didn't you?"
Miles's blue eyes sparkled, pleased. "Didn't Iwhat, pet?"
"Didn't you,Sir. Forgive me, Master."
"Better. Thank you, pet." Miles stepped closer, stroking a hand down over his ass for an indulgent squeeze. "I did really like things the other day," he confirmed. "And now I'm going to give you a choice. Those can be your reward later - "
"With the kids here?" Darren's eyebrows rose.
"We'll be quiet," Miles replied. "Or, you can go put them on now, and wear them the entire rest of the evening until I'm ready to fuck you before bed. Which do you choose?"
With the kids here? Darren almost asked again. It was already difficult enough to set aside the part of him that was a thirsty queer in love with the hottest man in existence in order to be an appropriate parental figure. How much harder would it be with nylons and lace underneath his pants?
