The Process of Learning - 2. Lesson #2

The hour is late. I watch as you exit the restaurant into the night - your waist-apron slung over your shoulder, your head pointed downwards in fatigue as you descend the short run of cement steps to the sidewalk. From across the parking lot, someone calls your name. We both look over at the source. You smile at the young valet, approach him, slap hands, share a joke together. I wait nearby, half in shadow, half in lamplight, casually leaning against the side of my truck with arms crossed.

You aren't expecting me. It's been several weeks since we've seen one another. I’ve purposely distanced myself from the restaurant, keeping you waiting, wondering, maybe even worried that I’ve grown tired of this dance and taken my leave of you. When you finally notice me at my truck now, your smile falters. I can tell by your expression that my presence is jarring. You straighten your posture and lift your chin as though standing at attention. This pleases me, and I give you a smile.

Swiftly, you bid farewell to your colleague and make your way towards me. I watch closely as you approach, and, again, I’m pleased. Your focus is firm, your eyes are locked with mine. No more wavering. You stop a few feet before me and silently wait, pulling the apron down from your shoulder. Minutes pass as we stand like this - without words, without movement. It must surely seem like hours to you, which is my intention. It's important that you learn to concentrate on every second that ticks by, because every second between us matters. You will come to appreciate the passage of time more and more as our journey progresses.

Patience, boy.

These unspoken words are relayed through eye contact. Some messages don't need verbal articulation. They simply are. You'll come to learn this, too.

I study your reaction. There is no trembling in you, no aversion to my gaze, no ounce of nervousness. You remain stoic, obedient, and attentive. You’ve come a long way from the bumbling boy you were just five months ago. I realize now how much I've missed you these last few weeks. Although we haven't had a proper conversation yet or shared the same space together for more than a few minutes at a time, I feel extraordinarily close to you.

The temptation to send you to your knees is strong. But the valet is watching our interaction with curiosity from his post. He doesn’t understand what we’re doing, standing in silence like this with such intensity. Not many bystanders will. That’s something else you must learn as we move forward together: the majority of people won’t get it. The earlier you understand and accept this fact, the better.

Unhooking my arms, I push off from the truck and move a step closer to you. Although you’re a couple of inches shorter than me, the height difference is inconsequential as we stand together, inhaling and exhaling the same circle of air. I clamp a hand around your left wrist and squeeze it just so, just enough. Initially, you flinch in surprise at my touch, but then you quickly right yourself with a long blink. Like a good boy, you do not pull away.

"Shall we go get a drink now?" I say.

You hesitate. Longer than you should. Are you afraid to speak or just having difficulty finding the words, boy? Before I have to prompt you to answer, you catch yourself and reply, "Sure, I'd like that."

"You'd like that - what? Give me a better response." Learn to say it now, before we go any further.

I observe your Adam's apple bounce up and down as you swallow. I see myriad thoughts swirl behind your eyes. Even though you must have known it would come up eventually, perhaps you weren't expecting it to arrive so soon. But you won't be going anywhere with me until the phrase is spoken. "Thank you," you whisper. "I would like that... Sir."

I smile. Release your wrist and move my hand up to cup your jaw. Your face is smooth. I imagine much of you is smooth. I look forward to discovering every inch of your body - when the time is right, when I make the decision that you are to be naked. For now, though, we're nowhere near that stage. The gradual journey continues.

As I rub my thumb across your cheek and lean in closer, you suck in a short breath and close your eyes. Perhaps you're anticipating a kiss... Go ahead and anticipate all you like, boy. You'll not be rewarded with a kiss. Yet.

"Get in the truck," I instruct, releasing you.

You nod. Pull open the passenger door and climb inside. As we roll out of the parking lot, your valet friend gives an uncertain wave goodbye, but you pay him no notice. Your mind is focused on the set of fingers clutching your thigh, reminding you I'm near.

"I will take care of you," I say, once we've pulled out onto the road. "From now on, I will take care of you. But there is much for us to discuss, and much you have to learn. And you have to be willing."

"I am willing," you reply. Then, as my fingers dig a little deeper into the fabric of your jeans, you add, "Sir..."