Bring Your Sub to Work Day

There was nothing on television. Well, no, that wasn’t true. There were actually at least three movies on right now that Royce liked. One, in fact, that only just started. He just didn’t feel very much like watching any of them. Royce sighed and tossed the remote to the side. His laptop sat on the couch next to him. It looked up at him in judgment. He frowned at it even if it had every right to judge him. It, like he, knew that he had a screenplay to write—a romantic comedy set in space that his agent secured for him. It was a big deal since it’d been picked up by Raving Films, so if it went well, it could open a hell of a lot of doors for him. First, he needed to get it done. But this blank page had been staring at him since he got the job last month. Unfortunately, with everything that had gone on—a pandemic, quarantine, social distancing—his brain had been misfiring all over the place. He couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t sit still. And instead of being able to write, he sighed and closed his computer. Royce leaned his head back on the couch, feet bobbing up and down as he tried to decide how to cure his boredom. Boredom, he knew quite well, led to trouble. Royce had certainly gotten himself in his fair share of trouble before and he felt particularly off-balance today. He figured that wasn’t too unusual. Royce doubted he was the only one who felt this way; it just crept up on him a little more today. It might be the rain. A dreary sort of rain. Gray skies and thin clouds and a heavy mist. No thunder and lightning. No big, dark clouds that were fun to watch roll over the sky. Strange, really. Under normal circumstances, Royce liked the rain. The way it washed over the world in gentle susurrations. Water collecting in little puddles just waiting to be hopped in. Drops sliding down the windows. All things Royce enjoyed, but he couldn’t seem to muster up any enthusiasm for it right now. Royce scooped up his phone from the coffee table in front of him and considered texting Jack. Silly, since he was just down the hall in his office. They were both working from home nowadays. Royce counted himself lucky in that regard. Not only were he and his boyfriend able to keep their jobs during all of this, they only started living together a few months ago. With that came the normal trepidation of moving in with someone for the first time. After dating for three and a half years, the time felt right, but no one could have predicted that a pandemic and quarantine would happen just six weeks after they did. So, on top of unpacking and rearranging and learning the little idiosyncrasies that came along with living together, Royce and Jack were thrust into a world of unprecedented turmoil. Royce knew that he loved Jack, probably ever since the night they met at Paddles, an S&M nightclub in the city. He could remember the first time he laid eyes on him. Those bright, sea green eyes that made Royce shiver when they first glanced his way. Tufts of dark brown locks that swept across his brow. All those muscles. And that smile. Dear God, Jack’s smile still made Royce weak at the knees. It’d been love at first sight. Even though Jack didn’t believe in the idea of love at first sight and claimed that it was more lust at first sight. “How could it not be?” Jack said once when his fingers took a soft grip in Royce’s auburn hair and tilted his head back. “Just look at you.” His lips pressed against the collar around Royce’s throat. “Those big, brown eyes. Those plump lips. That big brain of yours. So beautiful.” While Royce didn’t have a general negative opinion about his looks, he knew how the world worked. Royce reached an average height, but he had always had a curvier physique. And, admittedly, during times of boredom or stress, turned to snacking. Not everyone appreciated his soft curves. He knew he received looks sometimes when they were out. It hadn’t taken long to exchange the words anyway. Royce had never felt so strongly about someone he’d just met and they’d only gone on a handful of dates when he came out to Jack as genderfluid. Explained to him that some days he identified as male and on others as female. Jack had listened patiently and openly as Royce told him his pronouns switched accordingly with his gender. “But I…I understand if it’s too much,” Royce had forced himself to say, too nervous to look at Jack, afraid of rejection and what that would do to his heart. “If you can’t—” “Royce,” Jack interrupted, slipping a hand to Royce’s cheek. “Go to sleep tonight.” He pressed a kiss to Royce’s forehead. “And whoever you are in the morning, I’ll still love you as much as I do right now.” Overcome with joy and elation, Royce threw his arms around Jack’s neck and kissed him, more in love than he’d ever been. But whether it had been love or lust at first sight, Royce worried that a pandemic and a quarantine and social distancing mixed with learning to live together would throw them out of sync. His worry, however, had been for naught. If anything, it’d brought them closer together. Royce was teaching Jack how to speak French. He helped Jack redo his entire home office—which was good since he was now spending twenty to forty hours a week in there. They were putting together a lot of puzzles. In addition to teaching him to paint, fold origami, and tending to his bonsais, Jack also painted Royce’s fingernails and toenails and applied his make-up with those steady, artistic hands. While Royce had just enough self-confidence to feel pretty on female days, when Jack did her make-up it made her feel like a work of art. Phone still in his hand, Royce debated whether he wanted to text Jack. Whenever Jack was at the office, Royce would sometimes text him…inappropriate things. Inappropriate according to Jack, anyway. Royce didn’t see what was so wrong with sending his boyfriend and Dom a pic of him biting his lower lip. Or laying stretched across the couch in just a pair of boxers. Or down on his knees with the most wickedly submissive expression he could make. He usually received the same reply. Or at least something like it. When I get home, sweetheart. Royce could try that now, but with Jack home, it sort of lost its impact. Thinking about Jack getting a naughty message from him when he was at the office was different than sending one when Jack could simply shout his name to scold him that way. Instead of texting, Royce heaved off the couch and headed toward the bedroom, hearing Jack’s voice down the hall. He paused by the office and took a quick peek inside. Jack was pacing back and forth behind his desk while on a call. Didn’t look like a video call, but Royce wouldn’t chance it. They didn’t have many daily rules, but Jack had made it very clear that Royce was not allowed to interrupt when he was working from home and happened to be busy. As the program director of a not-for-profit l***q+ youth organization, he’d been particularly stressed lately, trying to get as much as possible digitalized. Right now, he sounded annoyed, so Royce continued to the bedroom. He stood in the middle of the room for a few moments, trying to decide what he wanted to do. The bed looked rather inviting. A nap sounded nice. But then, he hadn’t been sleeping a lot and he should get his sleep pattern back on track. At least, that was what Jack asked of him. Royce grimaced when he thought about Jack sending him to bed early. That meant lights out as soon as he got to bed. No television. No reading. Jack usually only did it when Royce was sick or not sleeping well. Although, there was the added bonus of getting tucked in and a kiss on the forehead. Jack never stayed up much later whenever he made Royce go to bed early anyway, which meant cuddles galore. He still felt off-balanced, though. Scattered. He needed some grounding. Something to sooth the jitters that skipped across his body. Over in the corner of the room was their wardrobe where they kept most of their playthings. Toys. Bondage sets. Ropes. Lube. Plugs and dildos and vibrators. All of Royce’s collars. That might’ve been nice. A collar around his neck. But then, he was only supposed to wear one if Jack put it on him. Mostly because Jack didn’t like the idea of him putting it on himself. Royce could do it, but Jack liked to make sure he didn’t make it too tight since, admittedly, Royce did tighten it a little too much just for the extra sensation. The wrist cuffs, though, he had no restriction on those, so Royce grabbed his favorite pair. The baby pink ones. All fuzzy inside. They weren’t a cinch to put on but Royce managed and smiled at his handy work when he finished. Already, he felt a little bit better and figured he could get some of his own work done now. As he made his way back down the hallway again, he tried to remember the last time he and Jack played, and if he was right, it’d been before the quarantine. No wonder he felt so off. He didn’t mean to, didn’t really think about it, but he found himself stopped in front of Jack office again. Jack was no longer pacing. In fact, he was seated at his desk and doing something on his computer. Royce could hear the clack, clack, clacking of his keyboard as he typed. He hadn’t noticed Royce there yet. Jack looked incredible. Working from home but still all formal in his suit and tie, and Royce was a freaking sucker for that look. So prim and proper. Ready for business. While right outside his office door, his sub stood there in sweats and one of Jack’s oversized T-shirts and in a pair of wrist cuffs, and just down the hall they had a whole wardrobe filled with goodies. Hell, there were probably toys right there in Jack’s desk. The thought alone made Royce whimper out loud and this must’ve caught Jack’s attention since his gaze flicked away from his computer and over to him. As soon as those bright eyes landed on him, Royce gasped and clapped a hand over his mouth. “Say that again, Kris,” Jack said, and now that he was fully facing him, Royce could see the Bluetooth in his ear, and s**t, he just interrupted him. “I missed that.” Royce held his palms out and mouthed an apology as he started to back away from the door. Before he got anywhere, though, Jack, wearing a most decidedly dominant look, held a finger up to stop him. Head spinning from just that alone, Royce went totally still. Jack kept his eyes right on him as he continued with his call and whatever he’d been doing on his computer. “Uh-huh. Right. Got it.” Jack nodded along to whatever Kris was saying. “All right, that’s fine. When that’s finished processing, call me back to gimme the total cost. Great.” Ending the call, Jack removed the earpiece and set it on his desk then laced his fingers behind his head. He leaned back in his chair, lips pursed and eyebrows raised, as his gaze wandered up and down Royce’s body. Careful not to make another sound, Royce just stood there, waiting for further instruction. When Jack went on doing nothing other than watch him, Royce started to squirm in place. Toes curling into the carpet, he bit his lip and bounced and knees and…and… “I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, all whiny and high-pitched when he couldn’t stand it any longer. “I didn’t…I…I’m sorry, it was an accident!” A smirk curled up on Jack’s mouth. The kind of smirk that made Royce go weak at the knees. It held all the love and adoration in the world and yet it still had Royce swallowing roughly. The wheels in Jack’s mind were clearly turning and when they stopped, the corners of his mouth twitched even more. “Does someone need my attention?” Royce tucked a grin under his teeth. He was already getting all hot and bothered and nothing even happened yet. Well, Jack had given him his attention, and that always got him going. “I’m sorry, sir,” Royce murmured. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He really didn’t, but now that he had, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Looked like Jack didn’t really mind, either “Mhm. Feeling a bit antsy, are we?” “Sir?” Jack pointed to his own wrist and then gestured to Royce. Oh, right. The cuffs. Royce didn’t normally walk around their home with them on like this. “A little.” Royce nodded. “I thought they would help. Is that okay?” “Of course. But…” Jack lowered his arms now and rested them over his desk, fingers laced and thumbs tapping together. “I think you need something else. Why don’t you go pick one of your collars and bring it back. I’ll put it on for you.” A thrill ran up Royce’s spine. This mistake was, so far, turning out to work very much in his favor. Without answering Jack’s request, he turned on his heels and hurried back to the bedroom. At the wardrobe again, Royce considered which collar to choose. He had a few. Different shapes and sizes and styles. The very first one that Jack presented to him when they started playing. Black and simple. Velcro. They were dating for a year before Jack bought the first one with a buckle, a blush colored one with a dangling O-ring. Some with charms hanging from it—little jewels, tags, even bells. Then there were the actual locking ones, like the one Jack gave him during their collaring ceremony. Today, Royce selected the newest one. Only a little more than a half-an-inch wide, it was pink leather, plated in brilliant rose gold hardware. The tag that sat perfectly within the O-ring was engraved with the nickname little one. They had no daddy aspect to their relationship, but Jack made Royce feel so cherished and precious and coated him in just the right amount of dominance that it made him feel safe and protected whenever he needed it the most. Collar in hand, Royce hurried back to the office.