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“Don’t call me that,” Booker says for the second time in as many minutes. This is clearly a sore subject. Travis makes a mental note. “And it’s my kitchen when I’m using it, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. You rule the kitchen. Stop bitching before you accidentally end up with unequal slices.”
Booker gasps, looking down at his cucumber. Then he seems to remember that he stopped slicing when he began verbally sparring with his friend and flips Hunter off. “How dare you bring into question my knife skills?”
Hunter sighs, looking past his friend at Travis. “I apologize for him. He takes himself very seriously when it comes to food.”
“I’ve noticed. A chef?”
“Eh.” Booker shrugs, ducking his head. “I own a bar and grill. Nothing fancy.”
“He’s being modest. We’ll grab a drink and a bite there some time and you’ll see for yourself,” Hunter says. There’s a finality to it. Like it’s already settled that Travis is a friend and they’re going to continue hanging out. It makes Travis feel… something. A good something, though. Mostly. “Now, what you were about to say before.”
Travis nods, refocusing. “Right.”
“What’s this?” Wells asks.
“Travis was about to tell me what’s going on between him and Carter. They had a moment earlier in a non-private hallway that Travis shut down. Carter was disappointed, but as I explained, you’re taking away people’s consent if you play publicly before speaking with anyone who is around. He seemed to realize that, and I told him it was okay that he hadn’t thought about it, that it was Travis’s job to worry about that when Carter’s mind went into subbie mode. Carter seems to have realized that, but something is still wrong.”
“Okay, caught up,” Booker announces. He eyes a slice of his cucumber, scowling. “Fill us in on the rest. What’s wrong?”
Travis smiles to himself, wondering if this is really how it’ll be. Friends he can talk to. Vent to. Friends who will understand. He has Jake, sure, but Jake is tied into his history as Nathan. Ace too. And he can’t exactly talk to Maison about his brother.
“When I told him to stop, he didn’t listen right away. It’s against one of his rules – no hesitation unless he’s yellow. We were still in the hallway and on our way to come here, so I let it slide.”
“Ah,” Booker says, at the same time Hunter makes a, “Mmm,” sound and Wells mutters, “That’d be it.”
“What?” Travis frowns at them. “Shouldn’t he be fucking happy I didn’t punish him? What sub wants to be punished?”
“A guilty one,” Booker offers.
Hunter nods. “Or an insecure one.”
“Both, possibly,” Wells adds.
Travis shakes his head, not getting why Carter would feel guilty or insecure. “But… why?”
“Why what?” Hunter asks.
“Why would he feel that way?”
“Well-” Hunter is cut off when a door nearby opens. Everyone turns to find a rumpled, tear-stained Carlos sniffling and rubbing at his ass through a pair of sweatpants he definitely wasn’t wearing before. He drops his gaze and shuffles into the kitchen. “Um. Sir. Can I have a juice box?”
Hunter looks over his shoulder to where Liam is standing with his hands in his pockets. Liam nods. Hunter looks back at the sad boy in front of him. “Of course, little one. But water or milk with dinner, yes?”
“Yes, sir.” He sniffles and rubs a fist against one of his eyes. “Thank you, sir.”
“Hit him with one of those gummy packets too, would ya?” Liam says. He comes up behind Carlos and puts his hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing them. “He’s feeling good, but it wouldn’t hurt to give him a boost just in case.”
“Sure thing. Actually-” Hunter pauses with his hand on the door, his eyes finding Travis. “Would you mind if we shared your predicament with Carlos here? He might be much better at helping, since he has a sub’s perspective.”
Travis eyes Carlos. “He’s upset.”
“I’m not,” Carlos says with a defiant tilt of his chin that reminds Travis a little of his own boy. “I’m much better now, actually.”
“And that’s the perfect preamble to our situation,” Hunter says. “Travis, are you okay with sharing?”
“I’ll take whatever advice I can possibly get.”
