Chapter 6 #2

When I finish washing him and begin patting him dry with the softest towel I own, Carlo looks almost peaceful.

His eyes are heavy-lidded, pupils slightly dilated, and for a moment he seems to have forgotten where we are and how we got here.

This is how he should always look, I decide.

Relaxed and cared for and free from the weight of constant vigilance.

“Better?” I ask softly, gathering up my supplies with reluctant efficiency.

He nods, the gesture small but unmistakably genuine, and my heart soars like it’s trying to escape my chest entirely.

I tidy everything away, humming softly to myself as I put the washcloths in the hamper and return the soap to its proper place in the bathroom.

Everything has its place in our new life together, and I intend to maintain proper order.

Organization is important in any household, but especially in ours where everything must be perfect.

When I return to the bedroom, Carlo is watching me with those dark, unreadable eyes. There’s something different in his expression now, something that wasn’t there yesterday. Not acceptance, not yet, but perhaps the beginning of understanding.

“Right then,” I announce brightly, clapping my hands together with renewed energy. “Time for my Twitch livestream!”

Carlo blinks slowly, like he’s surfacing from deep water. The peaceful expression fades, replaced by confusion.

“I don’t know what any of those words mean.”

I pat his leg affectionately, enjoying the way his muscle tenses under my touch.

“That’s okay. Old people don’t. It means I’m going to go talk online to my followers.”

His eyes narrow immediately, suspicion replacing that lovely relaxed expression. The jealousy that flashes across his features is so obvious it’s almost cute.

“OnlyFans?”

I sigh dramatically, putting just the right amount of wounded disappointment into my voice. “Of course not. You are the only one for me. You know that, Carlo.”

The relief that flickers across his face is delicious, even though he tries to hide it behind concern.

Such a possessive man, my Carlo. I pat his head gently, marveling at how mature I’m being about his insecurities.

Most people my age wouldn’t be so understanding about their partner’s jealousy issues.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be bored. I have thought of everything.”

I move to the corner of the room and bring out the projector. It’s taken quite a lot of planning to get everything right, but I want Carlo’s time here with me to be absolutely perfect in every way.

“What is that thing?” Carlo asks warily, eyeing the equipment like it might explode.

“Entertainment,” I say simply, angling the projector toward the ceiling above the bed with practiced precision. “I found some lovely films for you to watch while I’m busy.”

I fiddle with the settings until I get the image focused properly on the ceiling, the actors appearing in crystal clear high definition.

“Is that supposed to be us?” Carlo’s voice is strangled, higher pitched than usual.

I beam with pride, practically glowing with satisfaction at his recognition. “I know, right? I spent ages finding actors who look just like us. The resemblance is uncanny. The dark-haired one could be your twin, and the smaller one has my exact bone structure.”

Carlo makes a sound that might be a whimper, but I choose to interpret it as appreciation for my attention to detail.

“I thought you’d appreciate the careful casting,” I continue happily, adjusting the focus one final time. “Very realistic. Very educational.”

I press play, and the scene begins in earnest above Carlo’s head. The actor who looks like him is pummeling the one who looks like me. The aesthetic is deeply pleasing. A big older man and a younger femboy half his size.

“Ginni, you can’t be serious about this,” Carlo says, his voice climbing toward panic.

“Oh, but I am. It’s important for you to see what our future could look like. Think of it as aspirational viewing.”

I adjust the volume to a comfortable level, not too loud but clear enough for him to hear every delightful mewl the pretty little twink makes as his man slams into him.

This way, if Carlo is silly and closes his eyes, the wonderful sounds can still keep him occupied.

I need to leave now. I have to check that my camera and microphone are properly configured. My followers are expecting me in ten minutes, and I don’t like to keep them waiting. Punctuality is important in building a loyal audience.

“The production values are quite high too,” I add conversationally. “Much better than most of the amateur content you see online these days. I specifically sought out the premium options.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours,” I call over my shoulder as I head toward the door that leads to my gaming room. “Try to relax and enjoy the show! The plot really picks up around the thirty-minute mark.”

“Ginni!” Carlo yells after me, his voice cracking with desperation. “Ginni, you can’t just leave me here with this! This is insane! Get back here!”

I pause in the doorway and shake my head fondly, like an indulgent parent watching a child’s tantrum. Doesn’t Carlo realize the basement is soundproof? All that shouting isn’t going to accomplish anything except making his throat sore for our evening activities.

But I suppose he’ll figure that out eventually. He’s a very intelligent man, after all.

That’s one of the many reasons I love him.

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