He was already pretty sure he was right. Why was it different for them just because Trig said so?
The shop was quiet except for his light footsteps as he walked between the shelves. All were taller than him, although he could reach the top books. He passed the mystery section which was Trig’s favorite genre to read.
Riju had gone to a small school for a little while before his parents kicked him out, and he’d learned his letters, basic reading skills, and simple math. He hadn’t done very well in school, and the teacher hadn’t liked him since he’d been slow. Her constant squawking hadn’t helped, and she’d yelled at him for doodling on his slate. The other kids had laughed at him for not being able to read as well as them even though it had been hard to see the damn words in the crummy old children’s books they’d used.
The teacher had said he was too stupid to keep up with the rest of the children, and he’d never learn like them. She’d stopped paying much attention to his work, preferring to help the other students. They’d all been more worthy in her eyes. Even though he had slowly learned to read and write, she’d kicked him out just before he turned eight.
She probably didn’t think he could read whole books now and understand them just as well as anyone else.
Since the shop was in the Edge, several shelves were devoted to naughty tales. A large section contained books on variouskinks and how to safely practice them. Riju tilted his head to scan the titles and walked along, trying to remember where he’d seen a particular one.
Trig had once taken him there years ago to look around, and Riju had found the book he currently wanted. At the time, he’d flipped through it and read a few small chunks for something to do. Trig had helped him to improve his reading skills, and it was a lot easier with spectacles since he didn’t have to squint anymore.
He hadn’t thought to ask Trig for that particular work because it hadn’t seemed particularly interesting.
A spine with silver lettering and red stitching on the top caught his eye.Fairline’s Essays.Three more books next to it were the same.
Fairline had started The Edge over two hundred years ago in the mid-fifteenth century. Riju took the book and opened it. Some of the essays in the front were about The Edge itself. He flipped through the pages, trying to remember exactly what he’d read the last time.
He found an essay on submissives and dominants, and the next was about slaves and Masters. He scanned a few paragraphs, and a few of the lines stood out to him. It was what he wanted. His gaze flew along the sentences. Safety words and signals. Consent. It was exactly what he wanted.
Other books described such relationships and how to be safe, but he wanted this one in particular since he’d remembered a couple of bits. He had enough money on him so he found a book of fables that he could share with Kit, and he stopped in the small kid’s section. Children were never allowed in The Edge for anything. If someone worked there and had kids at home, they could buy a book for them. He found one about a toymaker, although not the kind like Trig. He made dolls, softtoys, rocking horses, blocks with letters, and little soldiers with wooden swords.
At night, after the toymaker went to bed, all of the toys came alive in the shop below his living quarters.
Why couldn’t Riju have a kid’s toy shop? Not that he expected the toys to come alive. He wanted his own business. Sex toys were okay, but there wasn’t as much creativity. He’d rather paint faces on dolls and make little clothes for them. He could make soft animals, accessories for the dolls, blocks, and whatever else he thought of.
Besides the creation part, he wanted to see little children happy with their new toys. His parents hadn’t been overly concerned with what their two children played with.
He took his three books to the counter, and the owner quickly tallied up the cost.
“How are you doing?” he asked while Riju opened his coin purse.
“Fine.” There was a pause, and Riju, with his mind still half on Fairline’s book, found it rather awkward, like the owner was waiting for something. “How much do I owe you?”
The man sighed and stacked the books. “How long have you been living with Trig? He hasn’t taught you how to have a conversation yet?”
“I know how to have a conversation.”
The owner gave the price in a much colder voice as if Riju had done something wrong. What was his problem? Riju had said he was fine and answered the question. Why couldn’t they get on with things? He counted coins, put them on the counter, and hurried out with his purchase.
A few snowflakes were falling, and the street was mostly empty. Once inside the shop, he locked the door and headed for his room. Trig must have heard him since he came from his bedroom in nothing but his drawers.
“Did you find anything good?” Trig gave him a quick kiss.
“Fables.” Riju kept the books against his chest and half under his cloak. It was true.
“Do you want to sleep with me tonight?”
Riju stared at him in the light of the dim, crystal lantern they kept hanging from the ceiling all night. At forty, Trig looked pretty good, and Riju certainly enjoyed fucking him or getting on his knees. Most of their sex had been great in the past years, and Trig wasn’t a selfish lover. If he said yes, they’d probably end up doing something.
Kit was coming in later, and quite frankly, Riju needed that more at the moment.
“No,” said Riju.
“All right.” Trig paused. “I wish I knew the thoughts running through your head.”
No. Not those thoughts. Riju shrugged a shoulder.
