Chapter 30 Dexter
DEXTER
I wish I could have taken my boy to the New Year’s Eve party at the Devil’s Club, but he put his foot down.
Since the guys at the shop banded together to give the bosses the two days off for Christmas, Johnny insisted that he would be the one working on New Year’s Eve.
It’s not as bad as it could have been, though.
The shop is a lot more comfortable now that the door has been fixed and the Paul situation is cleared up.
I watch the screen on the computer light up with line after line of dispatch requests as we get closer to midnight.
Tonight, Johnny is on dispatch while Steve is running the flatbed.
A few of the guys will come on to pick up the drunk tows for the Safe Ride program that the Wrenshaw Police run every year.
They coordinate with the local cab drivers and even some of the rideshare platforms to provide safe rides home in exchange for charitable donations.
Those calls are the ones that can wait, but I can tell my boy is tense watching each line come through. He jumps at every phone call.
“What is it, Baby?” I ask, holding him closer on my lap.
He shrugs but continues building with his Legos on the desk. I won’t push, but I do want to know. After a few minutes of silence, another ping from the computer makes him flinch.
“It always happens,” he finally mutters. “Some idiot drives drunk and causes a wreck.”
I nod because it’s unfortunately true. There’s always some dumbass that thinks he’s fine to drive after having a few at a party.
“I don’t want to get that call, not with you here,” he whispers, and I feel something wet hit the back of my hand. Leaning over to look at his face, I see the tear tracks on his cheeks and the glassy look in his eyes.
It takes a minute to put together why my being here would be problematic for him.
When it actually comes to me, I feel like the most cherished idiot in the world.
Of course, he would think about that. Yeah, it’s been six years since a drunken idiot took away the people who were my entire world.
But my world isn’t so bare and lonely anymore. Now, I have him.
Brushing my thumb across his cheeks, I wipe the tears away.
“Yeah, there are going to be people like me who have to face a whole new world because of one selfish asshole too cheap or too stubborn to call for a rideshare. That is unfortunately part of life. You have no control over what other people do.”
I hold him close and watch while he lets my words sink in.
I’m not going to sugar coat it or say that it’s okay that people drive drunk, but he doesn’t need to be beating himself up over other people’s actions.
It took me far too long to come to terms with that myself after my parents’ accident.
My boy doesn’t need that eating away at him, too.
The computer dings with another request under the Safe Ride program and I chuckle at the address.
That is the fifth request for the club and it’s not even midnight yet.
The Devil’s Club doesn’t typically allow alcohol, but a few times a year they will have BYOB nights.
New Year’s Eve is one such night with the stipulation that all alcohol is to stay in the main bar area and anyone who is drinking is not allowed to go back to the rooms.
This year, they have negotiated the Safe Ride system exclusively with Good Boys Tinkering and Towing thanks to me introducing Johnny to the club a few days ago.
My friends, especially the Littles, loved meeting him and welcomed him with open arms. Everyone seems genuinely happy for their Uncle Dex to finally have his forever boy.
And I do intend to make it to forever with Johnny. He is the Christmas miracle I never knew I needed.
“Looks like Uncle Jay is going to be busy tonight,” Johnny giggles as another two requests for the club come through. “I guess it’s a good thing he hasn’t found a Little of his own yet or else they would be mad that their Daddy has to work tonight.”
I tickle my boy’s sides to get another giggle out of him before we settle in to watch the countdown on the television.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
“Happy New Year, Johnny,” I whisper before kissing the hell out of my boy. “Here’s to the first best year of our lives.”
My boy gulps in air when we separate a few minutes later.
My chuckle is purely involuntary as I watch him wiggle in my lap, trying to not touch himself to relieve the prominent tent situation he’s got going on in his pants.
We briefly talked about the possibility of trying out chastity devices but decided that’s something for a bit further down the road – like Valentine’s Day.
“I love you, Daddy,” he mumbles and gives me a quick peck on the cheek before running to the bathroom. My chuckles turn to a full on belly laugh when Jackson sulks into the shop. The man looks like someone who just got shot down on a night that desperation runs high.
“Happy New Year, Jackson,” I call out only to get a wave of his middle finger in response. Yeah, he was shot down.
My boy jumps back in my lap after handing a folder to Jackson for him to start making his runs.
The deal with the Safe Ride tows is that the vehicles get towed to the home address and then the person has the option of paying for the tow or making a donation for at least half the amount of the tow to the local LGBTQIA charity.
The folder has envelopes for the donations with tracking numbers so that the shop can submit tickets for failure to pay if someone tries to skimp out.
I figure that with the fifty percent discount, even the grinchiest bigots will donate rather than pay for the tow, but that’s how my boy operates.
He would rather save kids than make money.
Jackson mumbles something on his way back out that has my boy shaking his head and rolling his eyes.
We can worry about him later, though. My boy needs to get back to his magical Lego creation.
After the third time his thumb starts to sneak towards his mouth, I pull out his favorite binkie from my coat pocket.
I smile when he doesn’t even hesitate to use it in the shop. I’m so proud of my boy.