Master's Boy (mxb)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Robert's POV

As much as I hoped to wake up to a peaceful and happy Sunday morning with my perfect boyfriend, it didn't happen.

After Jerry verbally assaulted me about my snoring, bitched about his sore ass eight times, complained about how my parents were terrible people three times, called his new nipple piercings ugly, yelled at me for forgetting to remind him to soak them last night, and finally called me a walking waste of space for messing up the way he took his coffee, I decided it was time to have a talk with him about sub drop.

I rested my hand delicately over his and got a death glare. "Jerry, are you feeling okay?"

He was standing, very rebelliously, while I sat and ate breakfast. He reasoned that he could never stand again, due to my, quote, "beating," and that I would have to carry him everywhere.

"Why are you touching me before I'm done with my morning coffee?" he snapped. His hair was going in every direction possible, his face was still a little puffy from the tears, and his violent fantasies were very clear in his eyes.

"I asked you a question," I said, adding an edge of seriousness to my tone. As much as I cared for Jerry, I didn't tolerate rudeness.

Unfortunately, that didn't have the desired affect. Instead, his eyes misted over. "You're seriously pulling Dom shit with me right now? I'm taking a shower."

He stalked off, leaving his breakfast half uneaten. Which, for Jerry, was unheard of.

It definitely wasn't helping Jerry's irritation that I found him to be adorable. Smirking, I stalked after him.

I managed to lurk by the open door of the bathroom and watch him undress long enough to inspect his ass. Just like I'd intended, it wasn't red anymore at all. Last night it had been a bright pink — bright enough to leave me concerned that I'd gone too rough — but not bright enough to last the night.

I didn't doubt that he was aching, but I doubted that he couldn't sit at all.

Which meant one thing: he was crabby.

"Honey," I said, making him yelp and turn around. "Last night's scene was pretty intense, wasn't it?"

He scowled and covered his private bits. "Don't be such a creeper!"

"Jeremy." I made sure to keep my voice stern. "First of all, you left the door open anyway, so—"

"So? Doesn't mean—"

"Boy, I was talking," I snapped, reaching forward to grab his chin. Jerry bit the inside of his cheek and glared at me. "And second of all, I need to talk to you."

I let his chin go and he turned away. "Just let me shower."

Jesus. It was such a stark difference from last night, and the way he'd looked at me with stars in his eyes and hardly left my side. I missed my sweet, clingy baby. Maybe he needed another spanking.

I bit my lip and watched as Jerry stepped into the shower and shut the glass door with a pointed look. I'd dealt with sub drop before, although it usually manifested in a sub acting more weepy than angry. One thing was consistent, though: it always went away.

Jerry needed some space to cool down, and then we'd have a conversation. Deciding not to give him anything more to be angry about, I walked back to the kitchen and wrapped up his meal. When he was feeling better, he'd certainly want to finish it.

It occurred to me that he was probably feeling shitty in more ways than just emotionally. And some submissives were more prone to drop than others, so maybe this would be a thing for Jerry.