Gentle hand, p.8
Gentle Hand, page 8
part #2 of Perfect Hands Series
Had he missed something? Had his appeal to not care about what others think been too direct?
“You’re not angry with me?” Raf said, still sounding miserable and hiding against Brendan’s chest.
“No, my sweet boy. Why would I be angry with you?”
Raf leaned back, and Brendan met his tear-stricken eyes showing his fear and anguish. Brendan’s heart clenched painfully. “Will you please tell me what’s happening in your brain, baby boy? Because I can’t stand to see you this sad and upset.”
Raf seemed to search his eyes. “Can we sit on the couch?” he whispered after a beat or two. “Like, with me on your lap? That makes me feel safe.”
“Yes, of course we can.” Brendan let go of Raf and gently tugged his hand toward the living room. Raf followed him meekly, little left of his usual spark and energy.
Brendan sat down and immediately pulled Raf on his lap, who snuggled against him, letting out a shuddering sigh when he rubbed his cheek against Brendan’s shirt. Brendan had hoped for a cuddle session after dinner, so he’d already put out the little sensory cloth. That came in handy now, as he could hand it over to Raf, who started fidgeting with it right away.
Raf didn’t say anything yet, but Brendan waited patiently. He couldn’t rush Raf, not when it was clear something was bothering the boy. At least he was confident it wasn’t anything he had done, considering how Raf sought his presence. The fact he’d admitted he felt safe on Brendan’s lap was a big compliment that made Brendan feel warm inside.
“My dad was very impatient with me,” Raf said, his voice soft and tight. “I don’t know if that’s his character or if I bring it out in him because I’m so annoying, but I never felt like I could do anything right.”
Brendan could feel the pang of pain in his heart. No child should ever feel that way about a parent, especially one who was so sweet as Raf. But he didn’t say anything, wanting to listen first and get the whole story because clearly, Raf had more to say.
“I don’t think there was a day growing up when he would not get angry with me about something. Sometimes it was small stuff, like forgetting to flush or leaving the light on or not remembering to put the trash cans out. I tried to remember everything I was supposed to do, I swear, but it’s hard for me. He couldn’t understand I didn’t do it on purpose, and he’d yell at me over all the stuff he’d told me a million times that I would still forget.”
Brendan held him a little tighter, his throat getting tight with the hurt Raf was describing. What father was that, who blamed his son for something he couldn’t help?
“But there was also big stuff, like forgetting the time and not showing up till an hour after dinner. Or not realizing he was on the phone with a client and making too much noise while playing. I’d left the garage door open a few times overnight after playing outside, and even though nothing got stolen, he was furious with me. He always yelled at me, and it made me so scared and I felt like such a stupid idiot.”
Things were starting to make much more sense to Brendan now, including Raf’s worry he’d ruined dinner. No doubt he’d been accused of that a few times. “Where was your mom in all this?” he asked, trying hard not to make his voice accusatory.
Raf let out another one of those shuddering, sad sighs that broke Brendan’s heart. “She was afraid of him as well, so she never said much. Not until he found out I was gay and wanted to kick me out.”
“He what?” Brendan swallowed back the wave of fury inside him.
“He must have suspected because everyone did. I’m not exactly straight-passing, you know? But he never said anything. Maybe he thought he could scare me straight, I don’t know. I sure as fuck pretended to be straight just to appease him.”
Brendan decided curse words were about last on the list of things he cared about right now, and even more after understanding better how Raf’s mind worked. “How did he find out?”
“He caught me making out with a guy from my class, days before graduation. Jamie and I had connected at some party and made out, and even though we both knew it wasn’t going anywhere, we were just having fun. So we kissed behind the movie theater after seeing a movie together, and what do you know, we ran into my dad.”
Brendan winced. “That must not have gone over well, I assume.”
“It was an atomic explosion. He physically dragged me into the car, and when he got home, he wouldn’t stop screaming at me. And I don’t know why, but for the first time, I stood my ground. Like, all the stuff he always got angry with me about, I could see it was unfair, but up to a certain point he was right, you know? I did forget shit all the time, so even though his reaction was unfair and over the top, it held some truth. But this, this just made me pause. I can’t help being gay. It’s who I am, and for him to get so angry—I was drawing the line. So I yelled back at him, and things got ugly.”
“Did he get physical with you?” Brendan asked, fear for Raf rolling through the pit of his stomach.
“No. He never touched me. But he started throwing my clothes into a suitcase, yelling at me to get out of his fucking house, and that’s when I lost it. I knew he’d been banging the next door neighbor for years, and so I told him that he was twice the sinner I was for committing adultery. Turns out, my mom heard, and somehow, that changed something in her. For the first time ever, she stood up to him and held her ground. She actually kicked him out. I didn’t know it, but the house was hers, inherited from her parents who had passed away young. So he had no choice, not after she called the cops and made him leave. It was satisfying but infuriating at the same time.”
What a horrific mess that must have been, to be outed as gay, having to face your dad, and then to see your parents’ marriage crash as well. Brendan’s heart filled with compassion for Raf. “Are you and your mom good now?”
Raf hesitated a while before answering. “I don’t know. I mean, I appreciated her standing up for me, but I guess for me it was too little too late. One good act doesn’t negate all the times you didn’t do the right thing, you know?”
Brendan kissed the top of his head. “Yeah, I understand. I’m so sorry, baby boy. You got a rough deal in the parental department.”
God, how lucky he had been with his own parents, who’d been nothing but understanding when he’d come out. His mom had walked in three Pride parades with him, sporting a “Proud Mom of a Wonderful Gay Son” T-shirt. It had been too corny to look at, but he’d appreciated it more than he’d been able to say. They still lived in the same town, and he went over at least once a week. Sadly, he knew all too well that his experience was rare.
“I thought after my dad left, everything would be okay. I went to college a few weeks later, and that was it. Freedom. But it turns out he messed me up good because I still hear his voice, criticizing me and screaming at me.”
Raf’s voice was so sad. It made Brendan physically ache for him. “Is that what just happened, why you were scared you’d ruined dinner?”
“Yeah,” Raf whispered. “Because you cooked for me and set the table, and then I had to go and mess up the whole schedule.”
Brendan took a deep breath to steady himself. Raf didn’t need to see his anger now, the simmering rage for what his parents had done to him. That wasn’t what his boy needed.
“You know what we’re gonna do? Same as last time. Five minutes of binkie time for you while Daddy talks,” he said, already reaching for the pacifier he’d laid out.
The eager way Raf opened his mouth made it clear he was on board, and Brendan couldn’t even put into words how happy that made him. Raf started sucking immediately, the pacifier bobbing in his mouth as he furiously put his tongue and cheeks to work.
“Good boy,” Brendan praised him. That, too, was something he understood so much better now, Raf’s deep need for praise. He’d never gotten it. “So eager to obey Daddy. That makes me so proud and so happy, my sweet boy.”
Raf’s body completely relaxed against him, and Brendan kept rubbing his back, wanting to use every tool available to make Raf feel special and precious and…loved.
God, Jacki had been so right. He loved him. There was no denying how big and all-encompassing the feeling in his heart was, in his whole body. Every fiber of his being wanted to be with Raf, take care of him, take away his pain and sadness, and make him happy.
He loved him. He loved him so much.
Raf let out a deep breath through his nose, releasing the tension from his shoulders, then resumed sucking on his binkie. With Daddy Brendan’s arms around him, his binkie in his mouth, and his hands reveling in the sensations of his texture cloth—which, really, was more like a mini-blankie—his mind quieted down. It was amazing how his stress and worry melted away here in this safe spot.
Was it because he loved being touched? He did, and it was something Rhys had commented on before as well. And Daddy Brendan loved touching him almost as much as Rhys did, though in a different way. God, Raf loved the sensation of being held, of being on his lap. The man was a wall of strength and comfort.
Or maybe it was the binkie and the little fidget blankie, both brilliant moves on Daddy Brendan’s part. It did help him to have something in his mouth and hands, there was no doubt. He tended to get distracted by either talking or because his fingers got restless, and this way, he could quiet himself down.
But it was more than that. It was everything together, the way Daddy Brendan took care of him. The more he experienced it, the more Raf liked being a little. It was freeing, not having the responsibilities that weighed so heavy on him. And it was peaceful because Daddy knew best, and all he had to do was let go and obey.
Daddy Brendan was nothing like his dad, and if Raf thought about it rationally and not in a fit of panic, he understood Daddy Brendan would never yell at him for forgetting something or for messing up. Now all he had to do was try to remember when his emotions got the best of him. But for now, he just wanted to stop driving himself crazy. And so he tried to do that, letting go of all the worries in his head and snuggling closer to his Daddy.
“That’s it, baby boy,” Daddy mumbled softly. “That’s my boy. I hate to see you so stressed and worried, but thank you for sharing your story with me. I’m so, so sorry for what you went though. I can’t take away that pain, but I can promise you I’ll never treat you that way.”
Raf nodded to indicate he knew, even if he’d had a little trouble remembering it earlier.
“But I understand your emotions can overrule your rational brain, so even when you forget, I won’t get upset with you. I’ll just keep reminding you.”
See? That alone proved there was a world of difference between this patient, kind man and his asshole of a father.
“I know you don’t know me well yet, baby boy, but I hope you’ll give me a chance to prove to you I want nothing more than to take care of you and make you the happiest little boy there is.”
Tears welled up in Raf’s eyes. When had anyone ever said that to him? When had anyone ever been focused on him and his happiness? It was a whole new experience to be someone’s focus, at the center of someone’s attention. He’d be an idiot to say no, even more because of how much he liked Daddy Brendan. And not just that—he also liked who he was when he was with him.
Daddy had been right. It didn’t matter what others thought. If this here brought him happiness—and boy, did it ever—then fuck everyone else. Nothing else mattered but whatever he and Daddy Brendan agreed on. And everything, everything the man had asked him to try so far had been spot on.
Raf’s mind went to the beautiful dressing table upstairs, to the drawers underneath it that he knew held diapers. That whole play room had scared him as much as it had intrigued him, but now he saw it in a different light. He wouldn’t have to try everything because it would make Daddy Brendan happy. He would try it because chances were it would make him happy. He loved playing with the trains, he loved his binkie and his little fidget blankie, and he loved everything else Daddy had come up with. What were the odds he’d love the rest as well? Pretty big, he guessed, so sign him up.
“How are you feeling now, baby boy? Is your head a little quieter?” Daddy asked, gently pulling the binkie out of Raf’s mouth.
“I wanna try diapers,” Raf said, sitting up and meeting Daddy’s eyes. “I wanna do it all.”
Daddy’s mouth pulled up in a smile. “That’s unexpected. A pleasant surprise for sure, but I didn’t see this coming.”
Duh, the man had no idea of his thought process, Raf realized, and the last thing he’d spoken out loud had been his anxiety and grief over what happened with his parents. No wonder Daddy was a little confused.
“I was thinking how much I love my binkie and the little fidget blankie you got for me. And I loved playing with the trains and everything else you’ve had me try. You were right. I was holding off because I was scared what others would think, and that’s stupid. I wanna try everything.”
“Ah, that makes more sense,” Daddy said, his smile widening. “I’m so glad to hear it’s connecting with you. But can I ask you a slightly challenging question?”
Raf nodded, curious where this was going.
“In my research on ADHD, I read impulsive decisions are a part of it as well. This feels pretty impulsive to me, or am I wrong?”
Was he right? Raf frowned as he pondered it.
“Rhys taught me a way to test it,” Raf said, thinking out loud now. “He said if this is the first time I’m thinking something and I’ve never felt that way before, then it’s probably impulsive. And he told me never to do anything impulsive that would cost more than fifty dollars or could cause physical or emotional harm to me.”
“That sounds like sound advice to me. I’m so glad Rhys has been such a good friend to you.”
It hit Raf like a lightning bolt. “I think he’s been a kind of Daddy to me for years. The way he looks out for me and makes sure I take my meds and not make dumb decisions.”
Daddy Brendan nodded with a soft smile on his lips. “I had that same thought as well. He definitely has the caring instincts of a Daddy.”
“Maybe that’s why it’s so easy for me with you. Because I loved it when Rhys did it as well, and you do it on much deeper level.”
His mind liked that thought, spinning it around. What made Daddy Brendan different than Rhys, aside from the age difference and the sex?
“The little stuff,” he said, joy exploding inside him. “The fact that I’m a little with you, that’s what makes it so much better. And the sex was amazing,” he added quickly, not wanting Daddy to think that wasn’t important. “I love the little stuff with you, and I want more of that. So it’s not impulsive. It’s realizing that something was right for me all along, but I just didn’t know it.”
Daddy Brendan looked at him with such love in his eyes that it took Raf’s breath away. Raf had never been very good at reading body language, but this one, even he could interpret. There was love in those eyes, more than he’d ever seen in anyone else’s eyes when they looked at him. It was how Rhys looked at him sometimes, but then multiplied by ten.
And then his phone rang, and everything changed.
9
Brendan hadn’t let go of Raf since they’d walked onto the cemetery, the boy’s much smaller hand firmly encased in his. It had been a rough week for Raf, who’d been devastated by the news that Rhys’s father had been killed in a car accident. From Raf’s emotional ramblings, Brendan had gathered that the man had kind of been a surrogate father to Raf over the years, providing a shining example of what a good dad looked like. To lose that so unexpectedly had been a hard blow.
Moreover, seeing Rhys suffer so deeply in his grief had been difficult for Raf, who didn’t know how to help him. Brendan had encouraged him to simply be there, to be present, and Raf had done so. They’d sat for hours on Brendan’s couch, the two of them, sometimes crying or hugging and sometimes quietly chatting and sharing memories.
Rhys had apologized to Brendan for intruding on his privacy, as he’d described it, but Brendan had made it clear he was more than welcome. He understood Rhys didn’t want to be home right now, where everything reminded him of his father. And apparently, his mother wasn’t taking the news well even though she and his dad had been divorced for a number of years now. Rhys didn’t want to have to be her shoulder to cry on, having enough to deal with. Brendan had taken off from work as much as he could, sensing Raf needed him, and he’d been right.
In a strange coincidence, it turned out Brendan actually knew Jonas, Rhys’s father. He was the carpenter who had custom-built the changing table for his little-room, but they’d met for the first time in a club. They’d never played together, but they’d run into each other over the years, and Brendan had met Jonas’s best friend Cornell as well, who’d gotten severely hurt in the same accident. He’d liked them both, and they’d shared the occasional beer and laugh.
“I can’t believe Cornell isn’t able to attend the funeral,” Raf said quietly. They were slowly making their way toward the rows of chairs set up for the people attending. They were early because Raf had wanted to make sure he was there when Rhys arrived, who would be riding in the official funeral car. “Rhys said he’s not even able to get out of bed, let alone travel.”
“It must be so hard for him. Though from what Rhys said, I’m not sure how aware he is. It sounded like they have him pretty drugged on pain killers.”
Raf nodded. “He needs another surgery on his knee. They did one right after the accident, but he has complications or something, and he’s going back into surgery later today.”
Brendan squeezed his hand. “He’s facing a long road to recovery.”
They walked quietly for a while, Raf’s body uncharacteristically calm. “Thank you for everything this week,” he said softly.
