Liam blinks at him, surprised at his tone. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can’t figure out how to say what I want to say to you. I’m trying to manage my responses. I’ve got this bizarre… double speak, I guess you could call it, running through my head of what I want to say to you, versus what I should say to you, as this is a job and it will end. And yet, I’m not thinking of you as a job. My instincts are…. ”

“Maybe you just say what you want to say.”

Daniel waits.

Liam says nothing.

His Dominant is distressed and attempting to hide it. If he’s upset, he should reach for Daniel. What a strange series of thoughts, he realizes. Is that what it would be like if he could be a submissive all the time? Always getting to pay attention to his Daddy rather than fixating on himself? What a relief it would be. A job, something greater than his own neuroses.

“What was the syringe in the trash for?”

“Ah, hell. I knew I should have thrown it away in the kitchen,” he says, sounding annoyed with himself. “You’ve showered, I see.” Liam has a hint of a smile.

“Yes, I was gross,” Daniel responds, blushing.

“I disagree. Fuck, your scent when you started in on your nest, Jesus,” he says, and adjusts himself.

Daniel whimpers quietly, and Liam’s hand clenches on the counter, his nostrils flaring. He’s tense and coiled. Liam closes his eyes.

Daniel doesn’t know if he’s counting, but he’s got a look like he’s counting, and then he exhales and he’s calmer. It’s a pretty impressive trick.

“I’ve taken a suppressing shot. I think I’m close to rut,” he confesses, sounding ashamed.

“Oh.”

Liam’s voice is hard. “We are here for you. This is your shelter. I know what I’m doing, and I can take care of you properly. I can manage my response to you,” he says, which is not what Daniel was worried about.

“Okay,” Daniel whispers. He doesn’t want to imply his Dominant won’t take care of him properly. He knows Liam will. He’s certain of that. “I mean, I wish you wouldn’t ‘manage your response to me,’ but I’m sure you can.”

That gets him a heated look. Liam moves to the fridge, comes back again after getting nothing, and stares at the cutting board for a moment. He shakes his head. “Look, it’s not easy at the moment, but I’ll be better in an hour. Why don’t you go back to your nest and I’ll call you when it’s time for dinner?”