Chapter 11
Orlando
“I’m thinking about alfredo and Christmas decorations.” Bastian was feeling like poking at me but he was doing a pretty good job of looking normal. “Which one would you like to talk about?”
“Meatballs?” Because that went with red sauce.
Rolling his eyes, Bastian sighed. “Was I thinking about getting you alfredo?”
“No?” The fact that he looked offended had me trying to decide if he was funny or if I’d hurt his feelings.
“That’s right because the whole family knows you don’t like it.” As he narrowed his gaze at me, I decided it was both. “I don’t need to be vomited on again.”
Oh.
Okay, I’d forgotten about that.
“I had the flu. It’s not my fault.” I’d also been a kid and hadn’t wanted the slimy noodles anyway. “I’m sorry you were stuck sitting by me at dinner, but it really wasn’t my fault. No one believed me.”
Possibly because I’d tried to get out of family dinner a few times using the whole my tummy hurts bit.
Crying wolf wasn’t just about livestock.
Bastian was nice enough not to call me out on the not my fault part, but his mood didn’t improve. “So?”
What?
Oh.
“I’m sorry I thought you forgot something important about me.” It was the most logical reason he’d want an apology, so I was glad when he nodded and his drama receded a bit. “I was distracted.”
And wasn’t sure how to explain the Christmas issue…little me could’ve done it but big me felt ridiculous.
“Will watching me eat alfredo bother you?” Bastian set the menu down as he seemed to ignore the holiday part. “I can get the lasagna instead if it does.”
Since I was the only Italian guy on the planet who didn’t like alfredo sauce, I’d learned to be tolerant. “No, it’s fine.”
That had him nodding slowly but I wasn’t sure he was happy with the answer. “What do you think of lasagna? I can’t remember anything specific about that.”
“Because no one makes it for family dinners.” They made lots of other good stuff, so I didn’t mind either way. “It takes too long and no matter how you make it, mom says it’s stupidly expensive for her cheap-ass relatives.”
Bastian barked out a laugh. “I bet she said it exactly that way.”
As I nodded, he shook his head. “But you’re fine with it?”
He asked the weirdest questions.
“Yes.” Could I ask why we were doing conversational circles around his food choices?
No.
Okay…what would Terrence say about the situation if he and Enzo were sitting there instead?
Neither of us had allergies, so it couldn’t be about not wanting to kill me like that dinner Leander had with the biker guy that was allergic to shellfish.
That’d been a disaster.
We were both having garlic, so it couldn’t be a kissing thing, even though garlic made everything better, so it could only make kissing better.
Oh.
“I’d like a few bites of it if you want to share.” Ha. He nodded. “You already know what I want, but the rigatoni with sausage is really good. We ate the whole menu a dozen times before the restaurant opened, and when he couldn’t find a brand of sausage he liked, he made his own.”
No one in the family ate pasta for a month after the restaurant finally opened.
“I didn’t know that.” Bastian frowned at the menu again, making me wonder if he didn’t like sausage.
I should’ve been more suspicious and less nice.
“Dinner’s figured out, so how subtle would you like the conversation about Christmas decorations to be?”
He was sneaky.
“What kind of dessert do you think I’d like?” As far as changing the subject went it was terrible, but he was the one debating being subtle.
“That bad, huh?” Leaning back in his chair, Bastian gave me what I thought was a concerned Dom expression.
Terrence had told Leander that was a bad sign because it was when they got stubborn.
Bastian liked being stubborn.
“What do I get if I cooperate without being a pain in the butt?” If I couldn’t get out of it, I was going to get something for it.
Terrence was really smart…and liked to talk to himself a lot.
“Are we talking dessert, a traditional date reward, or something…sillier?” Bastian was trying to be nice about not saying the Daddy stuff around other people, but it always sounded weird to me.
“I already get dessert and another reward for being good, so let’s say now I get a traditional date one and a silly one.” His lips twitched but he didn’t tell me I was ridiculous. “Thank you for being generous.”
Yep, now he couldn’t take it back because I’d already said thank you.
“You’re welcome.” Bastian seemed to know that rule too because he didn’t argue about it. “Deal.”
Ugh.
Maybe I should’ve played harder to get?
“So…what’s the issue with the decorations?” Before I could find another way to change the subject, he shrugged. “Only good boys get rewards.”
What kind of reward, though?
Ugh.
I was too curious for my own good…and too well-behaved to whine and demand to know what he was going to give me.
Fine.
“Um, well, my mother only let me buy gold decorations, so I’ve got lots of those.
She really likes that color but I don’t, and I can’t put them up because I don’t like them, but if I don’t put them up she’s going to get upset.
” I wasn’t sure if all families were this hard to deal with, but sometimes I had to remind myself that I loved them a lot.
Especially my mother.
“Would you like to complain about it or would you like me to fix the problem?”
Wait.
“Aren’t you supposed to offer to listen or help me problem solve?” I’d seen that on a YouTube video about relationships. Most of the stuff the guy said seemed nuts, but he seemed to have gotten that one right.
Somehow.
“No.” Shrugging, Bastian didn’t look worried about possibly being wrong. “I’m a bit more take-charge than that.”
Ah.
Dom thing.
“Please fix it.” That was so much nicer than him trying to be nice and make me do all the work. “Thank you.”
Now he had to… Thanking people really was an underrated way to manipulate them.
Bastian looked like he wanted to laugh, but he held it back, probably because he really wanted to fix my problem. “We’re going to decorate your house in silver and red just like you want, and if your mother asks about it, we’re going to tell her that it’s what I like so you were being nice.”
When.
Not if.
Oh.
“I…I’m supposed to be nice to my partner.” She sighed and whined about that every time she had to do something for my dad that she didn’t want to.
Like going fishing.
“Then there’s nothing you can do about it.” Bastian’s shrug had me trying not to laugh. “You’ve got to be nice to me. Especially since we haven’t been dating that long.”
He was right.
It was brilliant.
“But…” There was a part two to our problem. He could fix that one too. “What about my fun stuff?”
Bastian blinked a few times before his Daddy side seemed to take over. “Did Trippy pick out some fun stuff to decorate the tree with?”
“Yes.” He was really smart. “Where does that go? It doesn’t match.”
Daddy Bastian was a fast thinker. “Is that another reason why you haven’t put anything up?”
“Yeah.” It was better to do nothing than do everything wrong. “They’re fun and lots of colors.”
Because little me liked gaudy things…which probably shouldn’t have surprised me based on what my mother had said about my decorating tendences as a child.
“We’ll put those at my house.” He fixed things so fast, I knew I should’ve told him sooner. “Trippy stuff at my house this year and next year if you have your…study fixed up then we can put them in there if you’d like.”
“Both.” Yes. “Next year we can do both.”
Playroom decorations and Daddy decorations and pretty ones.
“Then we have a plan.” His smile said he liked the plan. “Now I just have to think about rewards because you did a very good job of telling me what the problem was.”
I liked being good…and I liked rewards.
“But you’re going to remember that we don’t do anything we don’t want to.” Yes, reminding him of that meant I didn’t have to worry. He had safewords too.
And he’d already promised to kiss me later…so whatever happened after that was up to him.
“That’s right.” Bastian was watching me a little too closely, but I wasn’t sure what he was thinking. “We both have safewords and we both know you’re a curious boy.”
Oh.
Well.
Yes.
“I remember them.” I wasn’t sure if I should comment on the other part or not. “But you have limits too and you’re important.”
For some reason he smiled, but it might’ve been because I reminded him that he was important too. Bastian had a tendency to put other people first, and I liked it when I was first, but I had to be careful for him since he couldn’t do it himself.
“I promise I will not go past my own limits.” Reaching out, Bastian took my hand and it didn’t feel like he was my grandma that time.
I felt very grown-up.
“We’ll just do a little bit of exploring and we’ll remember our colors.”
Safewords.
Bastian wanted us to remember our safewords.
“Those…those can be for anything…like talking and stuff like that.” There had to be something else non-touching like talking. “You know that too.”
Nodding slowly, Bastian’s fingers started gently caressing my fingers. “And we can use safewords for physical things as well.”
Swallowing hard, I tried not to squirm but my pants were getting a lot tighter than they had been when I’d put them on for our date.
“They…they can.” But he was important too. “But no matter what you have to remember yours too.”
I could remember mine, but this was Bastian.
“I promise.” Bastian’s firm tone settled some of my worries but it also made the pants problem worse. “I’m just going to have fun rewarding a good boy.”
“I…I like rewards.” That was probably important to make sure he knew. “And…and I’m not scared.”
Of spankings or anything else Terrence had talked about.
Some of the stuff I’d seen online might’ve made me nervous, but nothing I’d talked about with Bastian scared me.
“I’m glad you’re not scared, but a few butterflies in your stomach isn’t a bad thing.” Bastian smirked as his gaze dropped, so it looked like he could see through the table.
Wiggling.
I was wiggling.
Had he guessed the problem wasn’t butterflies?
Shoot. I did it again.
Sitting still was painful and so were my pants…but I did it and didn’t grab myself.
Just to fix my pants…not to play with myself.
Either way, it meant I should get another reward for being good, though.
I just had to figure out how to explain that without talking about orgasms in public. I wasn’t sure exactly what made a boy good enough to get that kind of reward, but I was fairly certain talking about it when our waiter was coming up wouldn’t be a good idea.
Oh dear.
When had cousin Emilia started working there?
I really had too many relatives.