Chapter 8
Bastian
He was very sneaky…at least I thought he was being sneaky.
There was something slightly fake about his innocence at the moment, but calling him out on that would probably shatter his headspace so that seemed rude.
But how had we ended up talking about bathtub orgasms?
“Well…” What was the last thing he’d said? “Oh, well, it’s good to make your limits clear and it’s wonderful to be able to tell your Daddy what you want to try. You just have to remember that if you don’t like something, you need to explain that to your Daddy.”
Nodding earnestly, he looked more genuine and less manufactured that time. “Yes. My limits and my Daddy’s limits might change and that’s okay.”
“That’s right.” And in most cases a couple could find other things in common. “You just need to keep talking to your Daddy or Daddies that you’re getting to know so you know if you have enough in common.”
Looking adorably thoughtful, he somehow seemed to get even closer and was pressed against my leg before he explained what was going through his head. “I saw littles talking about Daddies who liked lots of rules and spankings and serious frowns.”
That would not be a type of Daddy he would enjoy.
“Well, some littles might like that, but I think you need a different kind of Daddy and that’s fine.” There was no way I was watching some grumpy dickhead fuss at him constantly. “If you talk to a Daddy like that, you just need to be polite but explain you’re looking for something different.”
Orlando nodded but I wasn’t sure we were on the same page. He’d agreed entirely too easily. “Even if your Secret Santa Daddy gives good toys, he might not be a good fit for you.”
His giggle did not make me more confident that he was understanding what I was saying, but he seemed to think I was cute. “Promise. Just because I get presents doesn’t mean I let him be mean.”
He was really enjoying getting presents.
“Even if he’s nice when you talk in public, you both might need different things when it comes to being little or kinks in general.
” How could I explain this? “I met a guy one time who seemed very polite and laid-back in everyday conversations, but when he started to do a scene, he turned into a completely different person…he was stern and unemotional. He wasn’t doing anything dangerous, but I think he’d have made you sad. ”
Or any number of negative emotions.
Bingo.
Wide eyes finally looked like he’d gotten what I was saying.
“Oh, like a robot Daddy.” He took the description in an interesting direction, but he wasn’t wrong. “That would be sad.”
The way he scrunched up his face had me stroking his head again while I told myself not to send him mixed signals. “Some people wouldn’t mind that, but I think you’d like a Daddy who showed his emotions.”
“Nice emotions.” Sighing, Orlando rested his head on my shoulder. “Not loud. Not angry. No robots.”
Considering the variety of emotions his family showed on a regular basis, I couldn’t blame him. “That’s right and I’m glad you understand how important that is for you.”
“A nice spanky Daddy.” Perking up again, he giggled as he sat back up. “No meanies.”
Chuckling, I nodded. “That’s right. No meanies.”
There were a lot of other issues that could pop up outside of being mean, but I’d keep a closer eye on him no matter what he was doing or who he was dating. I’d clearly assumed he’d shifted into being the boring kind of adult…innocent and vanilla…but that was ridiculously off base.
“Nice helpers and Daddies give cookies?” His manipulatively cheerful smile was definitely designed to get a treat.
“Are you a meanie?” Giving me a pout, he sighed. “Meanies don’t give cookies.”
Brat.
“I don’t know.” Shrugging, I made a thoughtful hum and pretended to need a while to process the question. “I don’t think I’m a meanie but I don’t know if I have cookies.”
I might but it wasn’t a given.
“We’ll look.” Taking my hand, he jumped up like a rabbit and started tugging at me. “Hurry.”
If anything showed our age difference, it was how quickly he could get off the floor. I wasn’t at the groaning phase, but I also wasn’t popping up like a mole in that old arcade game. “Alright, let’s go look. Where are your shoes?”
His shrug as he released my hand was incredibly unhelpful but the expectant way he was watching me gave me a hint about what he was thinking. Finding shoes was clearly a Daddy job. “Are they playing Hide and Seek?”
Yes.
“They hide.” Orlando frowned as he looked around, arms starting to swing back and forth. “Boots don’t hide. They’re important.”
So work footwear knew they were important, so they stayed put?
“Then we need special shoes that know Trippy thinks they’re important too.” He clearly didn’t like the current ones enough to keep track of them. “What kind of shoes would be more important?”
“Car shoes.” He answered that quickly enough I knew he’d already been thinking about the answer. “But grown-ups don’t wear car shoes.”
Bullshit.
But I wasn’t sure telling him that his family was full of assholes was a good idea, so I took a different route. “You’re not a grown-up all the time, though. When you play with friends or when we hang out you need fun shoes.”
I mirrored his own shrug, like there was nothing we could do about it. “So we need to find car shoes and maybe animal shoes?”
There was special shit for everyone online, but it’d been a long time since I’d looked for anything like that.
“Animals?” Looking intrigued, Orlando started randomly walking around the living room like he was expecting his shoes to jump out and scream boo any second. “I like animals.”
He liked cars and trucks better, but we probably needed a variety of clothing so he could pick different options depending on his mood. He was going to have a lot of different moods, so there was no point in pretending otherwise.
“I think I’m going to have to do some research so we can pick out a couple of options for you.” Searching under the couch, I wasn’t sure what about that made him snicker. “What?”
Looking delighted with something, Orlando nearly bounced around the living room and up to the front door. “Presents.”
Good grief.
Were shoes a better present than flowers with cars in them?
Where did they rank in terms of chocolates and Build-a-Bear?
“I’m not responding to that.” No matter how cute he was when he snickered, I wasn’t going to promise more presents…even if I was going to get him more presents.
“Daddies give presents.” Orlando seemed to be fawning over his flowers judging by what I could see of him. “I like presents.”
That was not a surprise.
“Well, sometimes yes, but that’s usually for special occasions like Christmas and when their boy has been very good.” My response just got a giggle that sounded like he didn’t believe that at all.
I was going to blame that on Enzo and Terrence.
“I’ve been very, very good.” The silly tone in his voice had me wanting to call bullshit on that, but I didn’t have a specific reason. “Good. Good. Good boy.”
The singsongy note in his voice had me shaking my head as he bounced into the kitchen and I looked behind the couch for the still MIA shoes.
“Found them.” What were they doing tucked between the couch and the wall? “How did they end up back here?”
“Oh, the couch.” Since it seemed like he knew exactly where they’d been, I frowned at him as he bounced back into the living room. “Sorry.”
His shrug and slightly apologetic grin did not scream sorry to me, but I nodded anyway. “Thank you, but we’re going to make a plan to figure out where your new shoes will go.”
I wasn’t going to play Hide and Seek every time we needed to look for them.
Instead of pouting or even simply agreeing with me, Orlando nodded excitedly and grabbed my hand before I could move the couch. “Yes. Come see.”
See what?
As he pulled me through the small cottage-style house, his wiggles got even more excited. “I have to show you.”
He repeated variations of that as he took me to what used to be his guest room. The bed and furniture his mother had picked out were gone and in their place was a mostly white room with a large city rug that had roads and buildings all over it.
“Oh, yes, this is going to be a great place to put your new shoes.” And anything else he could need. “Is it going to be your playroom or is it a bedroom for your little time?”
He shrugged, studying his room and grinning ear to ear. “It’s mine.”
Well, considering the fact that everyone else in the family had opinions on what he needed to do with the house to begin with, this was probably the only room in the house that would completely feel like his. “It’s going to be wonderful. I love your rug.”
Still grinning, he did a small hop as his wiggles got bigger again. “It’s mine.”
And not a hand-me-down from a cousin or something else his mother picked out…so yes…it was his.
“You have a very good room and it’s going to be perfect when it’s done.” No matter what he decided it needed to look like. “Is it going to be a car room?”
That seemed to encompass anything and everything that could drive, but he shrugged and just kept looking around. “It’s mine.”
Did that mean it was going to be a combination of everything he loved?
“And my Daddy’s.” That seemed to be an afterthought but an important one based on how seriously he looked as he nodded. “Mine and Daddy’s.”
His Daddy was going to be a safer individual than that fucking stalker.
“You’re going to share with your Daddy?” When he nodded, I looked around again. “He might want a chair to cuddle you and read books.”
“Oh.” Doing another happy wiggle, his smile came back. “Daddies read. I need books.”
“And shelves?” As his head bobbed, I pointed to a low wall under a window that faced the backyard. “How about there?”
“Sitting shelves?” Rocking back and forth, his face scrunched up as he studied the area. “Sitting shelves.”
Some kind of window seat with shelves?
“You’re very smart.” Giving in to the pull again, I ran my hand over his head, getting a happy sigh from him. “I think it’s going to be a wonderful room for you.”
“And Daddy.” Leaning into my touch, he giggled. “A big chair for Daddy.”
If he let some dickhead sit in my chair, I was going to—
“That’s right. A big chair for Daddy.” I was not going to help create a Daddy paradise for some asshole that was stalking him. “And books for Trippy.”
Fucking hell.
“Now presents?” Attention turning on a dime, he focused his manipulative grin on me again. “Shoes?”
His language had definitely gotten simpler, which made me think he was going to like my goodies. “Yes, just for you, Trippy.”
Giggling, he grabbed my hand and dragged me back through the house. “Help.”
Shoes.
Help with his shoes.
I’d guessed that but I was glad to see I was right when he planted us at the side of the couch and pointed. “Oops.”
My sigh was slightly dramatic but it made him giggle again. “At some point I’m going to ask how your shoes ended up hiding back there.”
He made an exaggerated shrug and waved his arms as he let my hand go. “Oops.”
Yeah, oops.
Oops didn’t help move the couch, but I didn’t have to chase him down to get his shoes on and he was happy as we did it. That was mostly because he’d decided to make a game of guessing what I had…and doing it badly.
“Puppy?” My snort as we finally made our way across the yard had his giggles starting again.
“No.” He was technically dressed like a grown-up but we probably looked suspicious as hell walking hand in hand across the yards. “Unless you want to be a puppy?”
I shouldn’t have said it but he was so cute when he laughed.
“No tails.” Chest jerking with silent laughter as he tried to look serious, he shook his head. “No tail toys.”
I had questions about that but I was going to wait until…well…there would never be an appropriate time to ask him about that.
“Fine, no tails, so no puppies.” Had he accidentally come across them online or had he deliberately searched for them?
What was I thinking? Terrence probably talked about them.
“Cookies?”
He’d gone back to that one several times, making me finally take it seriously as we walked in the front door of my house…hopefully before every neighbor over eighty had gotten an eyeful.
“Are you hungry?” I wasn’t surprised when he started with a shake of his head but ended with a shrug.
He’d eaten plenty, but it seemed like he had a snack-shaped hole in his stomach somewhere.
“I have a surprise you might like.” It wasn’t technically something I’d call a snack but I thought he might be curious to try it at the very least.
“Nuggets?” His guess came with an innocent expression that wasn’t believable because it only lasted about three seconds before his delight started all over again. “Nuggets.”
He thought he was hilarious which actually was funny and ended up making me laugh. “Silly goose.”
That was funny too but not enough to distract him because as soon as we made it to my living room, he looked around like a bloodhound that had caught a good scent. “Where?”
Ah.
“My room. Is it okay if we go there?” I wasn’t sure how careful to be with him, but it couldn’t hurt to keep checking in. “What color is going to my room?”
His eyes lit up and he rubbed his hands together like he was a greedy little pirate. “Green.”
I wasn’t sure laughter was appropriate but it was hard to hold back completely. “Then let’s go because I’m green too.”
“Yes.” Doing an excited little hop, he looked like he was ready to run to the bedroom. “Colors too.”
“Yes, everyone gets colors and needs to say how they’re feeling.” I remembered the first part but the second was probably my weakness. “How are you feeling?”
“’Cited.” His happy dance wiggles seemed to be wearing him out because he tried to hide a yawn. “’Wake.”
Awake, huh?
“Then let’s go see what I’ve got because I’m excited too.” And a confusing mix of other things I wasn’t sure we needed to go into. “Very excited.”
Yep, that was my story and I was sticking to it.