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Jamie blinked. “You are a member, aren’t you? Since you came to the weekend.”
Aled blushed a little and looked abashed. “I’m not, though Kit was trying to get me to join. He said I would find all sorts of useful contacts there to help with a great deal of things.”
Jamie nodded. “The entire point of the Brotherhood is that we help each other. But if you’re not a member, you can go as my guest.”
Aled smiled. “I’d like that.” He hummed and made a considering face. “Blimey, supper at the club. I am turning into a posh git, aren’t I?”
Jamie laughed, his insides filling with butterflies.
Which was ridiculous and potentially dangerous…and lovely and amazing and something he didn’t think he’d ever feel again.
“I’ll text you the address and time when I can get us in,” he said, then glanced off as the school clock chimed the hour.
“That would be lovely,” Aled said.
Jamie smiled. “Good. And now, you’ve got a class to go to and I’ve got one in half an hour.”
“Right,” Aled said. “Responsibilities first. Something we should all remember.” He took a step up on the stairs leading into the building, which put him a few inches higher than Jamie and raised his dom status by several notches. “Friday it is, then, and we’ll see where the night takes us.”
Jamie sucked in a breath, praying that his trousers didn’t tent as he bowed his head slightly to Aled. It was just enough to have both of them flushing and grinning.
Then Jamie broke character long enough to say, “See you then,” before turning to head on to his office.
It felt so right. All of it. And if he could swallow the pill of keeping everything on the down-low, and avoiding Ronny during committee meetings, he might just find himself in exactly the place he wanted to be.
TWELVE
Kit wasthe one who had first told Aled about the Brotherhood, and he had actually mentioned The Chameleon Club once or twice in the course of conversation. He hadn’t said anything specific about it, though, so as Aled stood in front of his wardrobe, staring at all the clothes he owned, he had no idea what to wear for supper there.
He was going on a date with Jamie. A proper, grown-up date. They would probably have a fancy supper, maybe some wine to go along with it, and depending on how things went, they might end up going back to Jamie’s place. The thought made him smile. More than that, it made him heat up from the inside out as memories of the weekend they’d spent together raced back to him.
Would Jamie want to be dominated outside of a kinky setting like Hadnall Heath? Was that something he saved for special weekends, or would he want Aled to tie him up and fuck him hard and maybe demean him a little in the process? Was that something you did on a Friday evening, then casually glossed over on Monday, when you saw each other again strolling through the square on campus?
“What kind of a date is this, exactly?” Jeremy asked from right behind Aled’s shoulder, shocking the sunshine out of him.
“God, Jeremy!” Aled gasped, jumping back and nearly stepping on Jeremy in the process. “Don’t go sneaking about, talking in people’s ears when they’re not paying attention.”
Jeremy grinned like a cat who’d caught the canary. “Ah, so it’sthatkind of date,” he said. He cleared his throat and pretended to get all serious. “Do we need to havethe conversation?” he asked, clasping his hands behind his back. “Do I need to tell you all about safe sex and respecting your partner? You’re on PrEP, aren’t you? You know that no means no, right?”
“Fuck off,” Aled said, turning back to his wardrobe with a laugh.
Jeremy was imitating the conversation they’d had several years ago, about a year after the trauma, when Jeremy had started dating. Every other responsibility for his family had fallen on Aled’s shoulders, so he’d assumed teaching his younger brother how to be a gentleman and to be safe was part of that load as well.
Jeremy had pretended to listen gravely to him, then laughed in his face, because their father had actually had the talk with him several years earlier, before the Lewy body dementia had started to take him. Aled had ended up embarrassing himself thoroughly—he hadn’t even known Jeremy was bi—Jeremy had nearly been scarred for life, and it had been one of the best bonding experiences the two of them had had.
“Where are you going for this date?” Jeremy asked more genuinely, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Aled to look at the wardrobe. “Someplace fancy?”
“I’m assuming,” Aled said, grateful for the connection with his brother. “It’s a place called The Chameleon Club. It’s like one of those antique gentleman’s clubs where they also serve supper. Apparently, the place has existed since before the reign of Queen Victoria.”
“God, Aled,” Jeremy said, looking at him like he’d eaten a lemon and Aled had handed it to him. “Why are you dating someone posh and stuffy? He’s not your sugar daddy, is he?”
Aled laughed out loud. “Far from it,” he said, reaching into his wardrobe and taking out a nice pair of slacks and a suit jacket. “He is older, but only, like, ten years.”
“Oh.” Jeremy blinked in surprise and took the clothing items as Aled went back in for a button-down shirt.
“What do you mean, ‘oh’?” he asked over his shoulder.
Dawn walked into the room, leaning against the doorway at just that moment. “Are we ‘oh-ing’ something?” she asked.
