Page 63 of Viking Ink

I let out a breath. I trusted Doc. I knew whatever I said would go no further. In the short time I’d been his receptionist, we’d bonded, for want of a better word. “What would you think if two people were doing what you assumed Si and I were?” I hated to think of Doc being prejudiced or thinking the worst, but I had to know.

“Being in a relationship with another man, or the thing we won’t speak about?” Doc asked.

I shrugged. Both were important to me, and I was realizing though my little self was mostly kept hidden, it was still an important part of me.

“Both,” I answered, readying myself for a lecture.

“I think it’s wonderful that you and Simon have found each other. The affection the two of you have for each other is something I envy, if I’m honest—no, I don’t want either of you.” He laughed at my look. “But it’s something I have wanted in a relationship for myself for longer than I care to admit.” He shrugged, settling into his chair and letting out a deep sigh.

“Didn’t you have that with your ex?” I was confused. How could you be married if you shared no affection?

“Our marriage was an expectation. Our families had known each other for years, and it was an arrangement that suited us both at the time. We cared about each other deeply as friends, but that was all there was. We both had other interests—our careers, our lovers. But we made it work.”

I shook my head, still not getting it. “But why did you get married in the first place?”

Doc gave me a look before nodding to himself. “You’ve only told me a small bit of why you ended up here in Sodden, but I have a deeper understanding of what you went through than you might realize.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My family was deeply conservative. Stoic, stiff upper lip and deeply religious. There was no room for anything out of the ordinary in my family, especially an eldest son who preferred the company of other men, and who had less than vanilla desires.”

Doc was gay? I didn’t want to presume. “Your family wouldn’t let you be yourself. Was your—” I licked my lips, trying to work out my words. “Did your parents—?”

Doc shook his head. “No lad, not like I suspect your father did. They were emotionally constipated as parents, and cold to a point of callousness, but they never lay a hand on me. But they also never suspected that I was anything but a dutiful son.”

“Are your parents still alive?”

“They are. Both spritely 80-year-olds, still staunchly conservative and thoroughly annoyed at the dissolution of my marriage. It’s not good for appearances in their mind. They live on an estate a few hours from here. I see them at Christmas and when family needs dictate, though I suspect I will be less than welcome come this Christmas.”

“Then spend it with us,” I blurted out impulsively.

Doc’s grey brows shot up in surprise and his lips pursed. “I think maybe you should check with Simon first, but it’s a lovely idea.”

Doc was probably right. I should check with Simon first. But I hated the thought of Doc being alone for Christmas. “I’m sure Simon will agree. Christmas is two months away, so we have plenty of time to organise.” I was already excited about Christmas, and buying presents for Simon and Mitch. I knew Simon had his eye on a beard care kit, and Mitch had been secretly pining for a Lego set.

“Well, I’ll let you sort that out with Simon. And to continue our conversation, I’ve known Simon for a long time. I knew he deeply craved finding that special boy to fill his heart and life, and I’m so happy it’s you.”

I didn’t miss the emphasis on boy. Did Doc really understand that side of me?

“You don’t judge me for that?”

“Why the hell would I, Rhys? Would you judge me if I told you I like to serve, to be an object of service? That I like to call my lovers master, and have them control everything?”

Whoa.

Holy shit, that sounded kind of hot. I shook my head, trying very hard not to picture my attractive silver fox boss doing exactly that.

“Did I just blue screen your brain?” Doc chuckled, reaching for the last biscuit.

“Um, yeah. But also, blue screen? That’s very modern talk for a tech troglodyte like yourself.” I ducked a playful swipe from Doc. “So, we’re good? No more scaring patients today?”

Doc held his hand to his chest, feigning a solemn pose. “Scout’s honour.”

“You,” I said, pointing, “were never a boy scout.”

“No. But I do like to be tied in pretty knots.”

“Too much information, Doc. You’re going to scar my young, impressionable mind.” I ducked out of the room, followed by Doc’s evil cackle. Doc liked being tied up? Fuck. Shit no, I did not need that image in my head.

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