The name hit like a candy cane to the temple.
Felix.
I froze. There he was, standing out from the herd like a wolf among sheep. Tall, broad, ginger beard trimmed perfectly, red hair catching every bit of the mall’s harsh lighting, and those sharp blue eyes scanning the space like he owned it.
I’d seen him at the club. Everyone had. He wasn’t just a Dom, he wastheDom, the one everyone whispered about, the one with all the confidence and none of the patience for bullshit. I’d never spoken to him. Not once. Not my league. Not even the same sport.
But I knew him.
And now here he was, in front of Santa’s Workshop, with a polite little nephew in tow, and me—Clayton the Elf—smelling faintly of vomit and humiliation. I’d tried to sponge out the stench after little Gemma lost her lunch, but this costume retained odors with supernatural stubbornness.
For a second I couldn’t breathe. The bell on my hat jangled when I jerked my head down, trying to vanish. Please god. Please don't let him see me. Not like this.
But Felix didn’t miss a thing. His eyes swept the set, landed right on me, and there was this moment where time just stopped. His gaze sharpened. Recognition.
No. No, no—
He didn’t react, not at first. Just that stillness, like a predator waiting. The kid tugged him forward and beamed up at me.
“Excuse me, Mr. Elf,” he said, voice clear and friendly. “Thank you for helping make this so fun. I can’t wait to tell Santa I’ve been extra good for him today.”
Felix smiled briefly then guided his nephew forward into the line. His eyes never left me. The air in my lungs went thin. The humiliation burned right up my neck to my ears. Humiliation kink had always been a hard no for me, despite Jason's attempts to persuade me otherwise.
I tried to turn away but there was nowhere to go, not with the velvet ropes and the stares and the goddamn curly shoes. Peppermint Pete perked up, tossing a candy cane to a toddler and batting his eyelashes at a pair of moms. He didn’t notice the tension. Nobody did. Except Felix.
He’d always looked so untouchable at the club, leather and power, the kind of man who didn’t even see guys like me. If he did, he’d only see a mess. Jason’s leftovers, now serving cheap candy canes and minor public embarrassment.
I tried to focus on the line, on the next kid, the next candy cane. But every nerve was locked on Felix’s eyes, the way his mouth quirked when his nephew spoke so politely, the way he didn’t bother smoothing the kid’s hair or fussing over him like the other parents. Felix just let him be. Big hand on the kid’s shoulder, steady but light. You could tell he was used to being in charge and didn’t have to prove it to anyone. The line shuffled forward. My stomach dropped every time the gap closed.
I kept my head down. He’d forget me, or at least pretend to, and that would be better for both of us.
Except he didn’t look away.
It was like being pinned in place. My whole body tensed. The bell on my hat was going to jingle again if I so much as breathed. I did my best not to.
His nephew was well-behaved, sweet. I envied that, the way the kid stood up so straight, chin high, like he believed the world might still be kind. Felix gave him that, I thought. Not by coddling, but just… standing behind him, solid, like a wall nothing could get through.
The world went a little blurry around the edges. I barely heard Pete flirting, barely saw the moms with their phones, the giggling toddlers in puffer jackets. All I saw was Felix, watching me.
He must have known. He had to. I remembered seeing him in the club, voice low, eyes cold, every sub in the place going weak-kneed just at his stare. He was a legend.
Me? I was the guy who never got picked. Not even once. Not for anything. Until Jason. And sure, now that I was a few months away, I knew our relationship hadn’t been perfect, but it had been a relationship. I hadn’t been on my own.
My hands started to sweat. I almost dropped the candy canes. Tried to rearrange them, but one snapped in my grip, and the broken edge dug into my palm. I let the pain settle me. Breathed slow, in through my nose, out through my mouth.
“Almost our turn, Max,” Felix said. His voice made my spine lock. “You remember what you want to tell Santa?”
“Yes, Uncle Felix.” The boy was nearly bouncing on his toes but didn’t move out of line. “I made a list, I didn’t forget.”
Felix’s eyes flicked to mine again, then away, then back. No smile. Not mocking. Just… seeing. Deep, slow, like he was flipping through pages in a book and he’d already found the part about me.
My knees threatened to give. I gripped the velvet rope harder.
I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to be seen like this, red-faced and pathetic, the last act of a washed-up nobody. But there was nowhere to run.
Max beamed when it was finally his time. No tears, no screaming, just pure excitement. The kind that hurt to look at. The kind that made me miss my job all over again. I’d even had to double for Santa once. He’d been sick, a seasonal flu, and I’d stepped in and loved every second. Julie in cosmetics had even bought me a special flashing Santa tie to wear with my suit.
I motioned him forward, forced a smile. “Santa’s waiting for you, Max.”
