Chapter Thirteen

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Jason

I make the final adjustments to the heart-shaped balloons, their glossy surfaces reflecting the warm glow of the fairy lights I’d strung across the living room. Ben and I may have agreed to a low-key Valentine’s Day date, but I can still make it special.

I add a new pink fuzzy blanket, still warm from the dryer, to the end of the couch and plump up the cushions, shaping a cozy nest for our movie later. My cheeks flush as I imagine Ben’s reaction—will he understand the care I’ve poured into all this?

At least, I hope.

The timer on the oven buzzes through the living room from the attached kitchen, signaling that the batch of heart-shaped cookies I threw together is finished. The frosting and sprinkles are already sitting on the counter for Ben to help decorate as part of tonight's activities.

I pause before opening the oven, the vanilla and sugar scent curling up around me. A sigh escapes—I want tonight to mean something, not just for me, but for us.

It’s more than a playdate. It’s my chance to show Ben, quietly but clearly, what he means to me already—and what kind of daddy I want to be for him. Maybe this night will spark a new understanding beyond the surface of our easy dates this week.

A week. It’s only been a week, and I feel like I’ve known this boy forever.

“Snap out of it, Jason. I can’t get carried away,” I reprimand myself. If I come on too strong, I’ll push him away—and that’s the last thing I want.

A quick glance at the microwave clock confirms that Ben will be arriving any minute. I smooth down my shirt, a deep red Henley, and step back to admire my handiwork. The snacks look yummy, and the decorations are on point.

The living room feels warm, inviting, and just a little bit magical, a testament to my careful preparations. I even lit the electric fireplace for physical warmth, not just ambiance, since it was snowing when I got home. Not much, just flurries.

I just hope Ben likes it and that this evening is the prelude to something truly special, something that makes both our hearts feel a little warmer.

As if summoned, the doorbell rings, a sweet chime that sends a flutter through my stomach.

I take a deep breath, smoothing down my shirt again, and head towards the door.

My heart is beating a hopeful rhythm against my ribs, ready to welcome Ben into my home for the first time and shower him with all the care and affection he deserves.

“Hi there.” I step aside and gesture for him to come in out of the cold. Before shutting the door, I noticed the snow coming down a little more steadily.

“Th-thanks.” He tells me, shivering.

I take Ben’s coat and hang it on one of the coat rack hooks. When I turn around, I see him taking in, well, everything.

“Jason.” My name is a simple whisper filled with so much emotion.

When Ben turns to face me, his eyes are wide, and he has a look of awe. A genuine, unrestrained smile spread across his face. Ben’s gaze sweeps back over the heart-shaped balloons, the twinkling fairy lights, and the inviting nest on the sofa, a soft chuckle escaping me.

“Wow, Jason,” he breathes, stepping further inside the living room. “You really went all out. This is…magical. Like a fairytale.”

My blush deepens, a pleased warmth spreading through me.

“I just wanted it to be nice,” I mumble, gesturing vaguely towards the room.

“And we agreed on a low-key night, so I thought, why not play into the Valentine's Day theme? And hey,” I add, a shy grin playing on my lips, “I even made cookies. Heart-shaped, of course.” Ben’s eyes sparkle as he follows my pointing finger towards the kitchen.

"We still need to decorate them," I wink.

As Ben walks into the kitchen, I hear his stomach rumble.

“But, dinner first. I don’t want to ruin your dinner with sweets.”

His little pout will be my undoing.

“Bu Jace, I jus have one,” he says, reaching for the platter. His fingers brushed the edge of the plate.

Is he testing me? Maybe he wants to see where my boundaries are or how I’ll react. I steady myself. This is the part I can’t mess up.

“Ben,” I tell him in a soft, firm voice, and his hand pauses midair at my warning.

“Let’s go wash your hands, and we’ll eat first. I have pizza from Maggie’s Pizzeria warming in the oven.

Extra cheese. Then, while our dinner is settling in, we can decorate the cookies and have them for dessert while we watch a movie. ” I tell him.

He makes his way over to the kitchen sink and stands there. Waiting. Swaying side to side. And waiting. Then it dawns on me that he’s waiting for me to help him, and I want to kick my own ass for not already jumping in.

“Here you go, Flower.” I turn on the water and test the temperature before squirting a little hand soap into his palms. “Okay, rub them together and get in between your digits to get all the germs off.”

Ben giggles at the word digits.

Once his hands are clean and dry, I sit him at the table before preparing our plates. Since I wasn’t sure what kind of Little Ben was, I didn’t stock up on supplies for tonight. I have a basket with some generic little-things, but nothing specific for him.

That needs to change.

I plate my food, then cut a slice of pizza into smaller pieces for Ben and plate them on a plastic yellow plate with bears on it.

“Would you like something to drink? I have milk, water, and juice. I also have Sprite.” I usually don’t keep soda in the house, but I have it on hand when I get an upset stomach.

“Milk peas.”

I smile fondly at him and pour his milk into a sippy cup. If he doesn’t care for that type of cup, I can easily remove the lid. It matches the bear plate and is a see-through yellow with one bear on the side.

I take the plates to the table first. Ben is adorable as he waits patiently for me to bring the food over. It’s only been a few minutes, or I would have offered him some blocks or coloring books to keep him occupied.

Ben’s overalls, a charming shade of faded denim, and the bright red of his long-sleeved t-shirt are the perfect counterpoint to the room's soft hues. I find myself momentarily speechless, my gaze lingering on Ben’s easy smile and the playful crinkle at the corner of his eyes. He looks so utterly…Ben.

“You look pretty adorable, Flower,” I tell him as I set his plate in front of him. Ben giggles, a warm, rich sound that fills the room.

“Tanks.”

I’m not sure whether he’s thanking me for the compliment or for the food. Either way, I offer him a smile and kiss the top of his head before taking my seat next to him.

Picking up his slice of pizza, Ben swings his legs and bounces a little while taking a large bite. The noises he makes go straight to my dick. Ignoring the sudden growth, I pick up my pizza and enjoy the sight in front of me.

Setting our uniquely decorated cookies and a refill of milk on the coffee table, we settle onto the sofa, sinking into the plush cushions that I had so carefully arranged.

Ben immediately snuggles into the fuzzy blanket, pulling it up to his chin and holding one side open for me.

I climb in next to him after grabbing the remote.

“So, what sounds interesting? Something cheesy and dramatic, or something that’ll make us laugh until we cry?” I asked, handing Ben a cookie. The feeling of comfort settled between us.

As I scroll through the movie options, the cinnamon scent from the candles weave through the air, and I steal a glance at Ben.

The fairy lights cast a gentle glow on his face, highlighting his genuine contentment.

This was exactly what I’d hoped for – a quiet, shared space where we could simply be, surrounded by little tokens of affection and the promise of an evening filled with easy conversation and shared laughter.

My chest blooms in warmth with each passing moment.

Ben's child-like voice cuts into my thoughts when he asks for Cinderella. “It's my fav-rit. I loves GusGus.”

I glance at the screen and realize I'd paused my scrolling and was staring at Ben.

"Cinderella?" I repeat his request, a pleased smile spreading across my face when Ben nods enthusiastically. I’d anticipated something more contemporary, perhaps a crowd-pleasing action flick or a laugh-out-loud comedy. But Cinderella? It is undeniably sweet, a gentle whisper of childhood wonder that feels perfectly in sync with the cozy, heartfelt atmosphere I’d so carefully crafted. “You got it,”

With a flick of my thumb, I select the classic animated fairy tale.

As the familiar opening notes began to play, Ben settles against my side, his eyes already fixed on the screen, a small, happy sigh escaping him.

The thought of choosing something that brings Ben such simple, unadulterated joy sends a fresh wave of warmth through me.

The movie plays a familiar tapestry of magic and melody. I find myself stealing glances at Ben, who is completely engrossed, his head tilted slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips.

I lean over and picked up another cookie, offering it to Ben. He gives me a smile and snuggles in closer under the blanket while birds and mice help Cinderella make a beautiful pink gown with ruffles and found beads.

As the final credits roll, casting long shadows across the room, Ben stretches with a contented groan.

“That was perfect, Jason,” he says, his voice still carrying that sweet, childlike tone, but he’s clearly out of little-space.

He turns to face me, the earlier blush on his cheeks now a soft glow from the fairy lights.

“Honestly, this whole night has been…I don’t even know.

Amazing. Thank you.” The sincerity in his voice and the genuine appreciation he radiates make my heart swell.

This quiet, comfortable understanding, this shared laughter and gentle affection, is exactly the kind of beginning I’d dreamed of.

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