Hiding their vulnerability,
Guilia just hoped that maybe they’d feel safe enough and trust her enough, to open up.
CHAPTER 9
Tay
“I don’t talk to my family anymore,” said Tay. They concentrated on keeping their tone steady, casual. A lighthearted throwaway comment that was anything but.
“Oh?” said Guilia, and there was something in her voice that had Tay looking at her. Her jaw had tightened and Tay realized that she was worried about Tay.
“It’s fine,” said Tay, and then corrected themself almost immediately. “Actually, no, it’s not okay. But they don’t get the nonbinary thing, and it seemed both sensible and safer to leave. I’d heard whisperings about Rawhide Ranch on forums and I figured that anything would be better than ignorant bullshit. And you were looking for an Italian chef—it just all seemed perfect.”
Forget perfect, it had seemed like a lifejacket when Tay was drowning. For all that they’d loved Italy, it still hadn’t been the most queer-friendly space, and then coming home to somewhere that was antagonistically anti-queer had just been hell.
Flipping burgers in a diner was so far from what they’d dreamed of, and when their mother—the only person they’ddared come out to—had responded the way she had to Tay’s coming out, getting out had been an imperative.
“How about you?”
“No family left, tesore. So I made my own: you and Nico, Lily, Hannah.Signore Derek. Sadie. The submissives on this corridor.”
“Found family,” said Tay with a nod. “They can be the best kind of family.”
“They really can,” said Guilia, and sipped her coffee.
A comfortable silence fell across them then, and Tay didn’t know what to say next. But instead of chomping at the bit, dying to continue the conversation, they merely leaned back and let the coffee do its magic on their digestion.
They’d been brought up on milky drinks before bed, and when they’d studied in Italy had sent their landlady into horrors suggesting a cappuccino. Italians didn’t have milk before bed, considering it to disrupt digestion, whereas apparently espressos had an opposite effect.
So, in adjusting, Tay had found that caffeine straight before bed actually made it easier for them to concentrate and settle down. There were papers written about this phenomenon, a side effect usually reserved for those with ADHD, but they hadn’t read any of them. Just took it at face value.
Tay was still in Big headspace, they could feel it, and they didn’t quite know how to make the shift from Big to Little. They did it on their easily enough, but this was different. Thisfeltdifferent. Like they wanted to be guided.
“Da-Daddy?”
“Yes, tesore?”
“Could we have some Little time?”
Guilia placed her cup on the coffee table beside the couch and smiled. “Of course, Tay. How does Little time usually look for you?”
Tay grimaced. “It’s usually bound up in pranks, I’m afraid.”
The burst of laughter that exploded from Guilia startled them momentarily. “I would expect nothing else. But I don’t think pranks are the way forward right now. What would you like to try instead?”
“I’m… I’m not sure.” Tay swallowed and then told Guilia the truth. “I think I might only know how to be a naughty Little.”
Guilia looked thoughtful. “Do you want to be a naughty Little?”
“No!” Tay was sure of that, if of nothing else. “I don’t actually like being told off. I just… I’m just not sure how to…” There was a tingling in their fingers, and Tay realized that they’d been gripping their hands into tight fists. Their fingernails bit into the palms of their hands, and they felt a bit sick.
So quickly that Tay barely registered the movement, Guilia had moved so that she sat right next to Tay on the couch. “Tay,” she said, and a finger under Tay’s chin urged Tay’s gaze upwards until they met dark eyes. “Tesore. You are not naughty. You just haven’t found your safe space yet. That’s what I’m here for, to help you with that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” and then Chef Guilia did the one thing that she’d never once done before.
She leaned in and kissed Tay.
