Chapter Five
Tane
The next few days passed quickly.
Aster, Dillon and I fell into a sort of unspoken agreement that the kitten was never to be left alone in the house.
So, if I was going out to talk to someone about what Christmas songs they wanted to play at our food drive, I’d make sure Aster was home.
If Aster wanted to go for a run, he’d do it before Dillon left for work.
Between the three of us, the little ginger tom was entertained and cuddled as much as he wanted to be.
In the first couple of days none of us slept much because the kitten would wake at two in the morning with the zoomies, which caused him to tear up and down the hallway, yodelling. He even climbed the curtains at one point.
Dillon came home from work the third day looking like an extra out of The Walking Dead, so Aster shut little Ginger in his bedroom at night from then on.
***
On the twentieth of December I went into the grocery store to help out. Christian and I emptied the Christmas donations receptacle because it was overflowing and no one could add any more.
We found space for the donations out at the back and they were already stacking up again, so I made a start at packing food parcels, sharing out the items between multiple boxes, until I ran out of space in the back.
I spent a few hours each day helping in the store until Dillon kicked me out.
Then I’d go home and try and attempt some of the Christmas baking recipes Ma had sent me.
I had vague memories of helping my grandmother make some of them, when I was a kid.
Most of it came back relatively easy. Cookies I could do, they were pretty straightforward once I got the hang of Dillon’s stand mixer.
But the Russian fudge, a staple at a Kiwi Christmas event, was a lot harder.
Aster got invested in the making of fudge as well, possibly because I let him eat my failed batches.
“I just don’t understand why it won’t set right.” I handed over my latest squidgy tray of fudge goo.
Aster took it with one hand and waved his phone at me with the other. “Internet says you’re probably not boiling it hot enough.”
I blinked at him. “It’s boiling, right? I thought that was a strict 100 degrees Celsius thing. How can you boil hotter than boiling?”
“You’re in the States, we use Farenheit,” Aster said. He set the tray down and went into the kitchen.
I followed, since it seemed like he wasn’t done talking.
Aster rummaged through the kitchen drawers and eventually came out brandishing a small device. “Here, you need this.”
I took it from him. It was plastic and had a grip and a button as well as a tiny screen.
“Laser thermometer, it should help you get the boil hot enough.”
“How do I know what’s hot enough?” I pressed the little button on the grip and a red laser hit the kitchen floor.
The ginger kitten pounced on it immediately.
Both Aster and I made an ‘awww’ noise and I moved the laser dot around the floor so Ginger could play.
After a while laughing at this, Aster cleared his throat.
“I’ll send you the website I found, it has the temperatures and the length of time it needs at each.”
I lost an hour or so playing with the kitten.
***
On the twenty-first, with the aid of the thermometer, I made the perfect batch of Russian fudge in the morning and had it cooled, cut and ready to eat when Dillon came home from the shop.
Most of my baking I’d been packing away in Tupperwares for Christmas Day, but I was too proud of the fudge to hold it back.
Aster had gone out for the evening to catch up with some high school friends, so I made a light dinner and served the fudge for dessert.
“Fudge?” Dillon took a piece and sniffed it. “Smells great.”
“Yeah, this is Russian fudge, I don’t... actually know if it’s from Russia but that’s what we call it back home. Mostly sugar, butter and condensed milk, so you know it tastes good.”
Dillon took a bite and his eyes widened. “Oh, this is great.”
I grinned and slung my arm around him, pleased from my baking success and to have him home alone. I loved Aster, I truly did, but I’d been missing quiet time — just us.
Well, just us and the kitten, but he was curled up in a little cat bed Aster had found at a thrift store.
“Glad you think so.”
“I do.” Dillon turned to kiss me gently on the lips. “Thanks for doing the most during these holidays.”
“I’m not the one working my ass off at the store,” I said.
“I know you’ve been working your ass off in other ways.” Dillon smiled and fed me a piece of fudge.
I ate it happily as he nuzzled into my neck.
“Maybe we should give our asses something other than work?” I suggested, half-joking.
I knew Dillon was tired, but also, he was being very cute and affectionate and it was heating me up.
Dillon hummed and climbed onto my lap, looking me over. “What are you suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting you get your clothes off and in bed so I can fuck you.” I contradicted my words, putting my hands on his waist and pulling him closer to me so we could kiss deep and hot.
Dillon tangled his hands in my hair and I felt his hardness pressing against my stomach.
“You’ll have to let me go for that.”
“Never want to let you go,” I murmured, nipping at his jaw with its pleasant scratch of five o’clock shadow.
We made out for a while, on the couch, getting hotter, teasing each other until Dillon pulled back.
“We should move though, in case Aster comes home.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, good point.”
Dillon got up off my lap and I adjusted myself and stood as well. Ginger was still fast asleep so we stole to the bedroom and got naked.
“Let me just... I should shower,” Dillon said.
“Mm, shower sex.” I grinned and followed him into the en ]suite.
Dillon chuckled, turning the water on and grabbing some lube out of the drawer. “Okay just give me five minutes to clean off, okay? Then you’re allowed in and you can do whatever you like.”
I groaned, loving the way that invitation sounded.
At a loss for what else to do, I shaved my face, since I’d been leaving it a few days — been so busy — once that was done, I approached the shower.
Dillon had a hand behind him, and from the flush in his cheeks and his open mouth, he was prepping himself.
“Fuck...” I paused, not opening the shower door. “I could watch this for hours.”
Dillon whined. “Not hours, can’t wait that long to feel you.”
I couldn’t argue with that. But I also formed a plan for later, after all the Christmas madness was done. I wanted to tease Dillon within an inch of his life...
That could wait.
I slipped my arms around his waist, luxuriating in the feel of his lean, wet body against mine. “You’re so hot, Dill.” My voice had dropped an octave, the arousal affecting me in all kinds of ways.
“Need you,” Dillon whined in my ear. “Please.”
Growling, I gripped his hips and spun him to face the wall, the shower head to his left. He braced one hand on it, the other reaching behind to pull me to him. He didn’t need to worry about that, I wasn't going to hold back.
I grabbed the lube off the shower shelf and slicked myself, wasting no time in teasing him.
“Baby, you worked fast, huh?” I growled in his ear. He was almost ready for me.
I slipped two fingers in to stretch him further.
Dillon gasped, his head dropped to rest against the shower wall. “God, Tane, yes.”
I pushed the head of my dick against him, moving slow to match the stretch around me.
Dillon held as still as he could, breathing hard, his shoulders bunched with muscles. He was tense, I couldn’t have that. I needed him to relax.
I reached around to grip his wrists, pinning them both to the wall with one of mine. My other hand moved around his waist to stroke him gently.
“Relax, darling, I’m going to take good care of you.”
Dillon moaned, his shoulders slumping as he gave in to me.
I knew pinning his hands would get him going. I’d teased him with the idea of bondage in the past but we’d never actually discussed it. But he loved when I did stuff like this, bossed him around or pinned him down under me.
All those long days being in charge and making decisions, my boy needed a break from all that. I’d make a pillow princess out of him, yet.
I kissed his neck and pushed inside slowly, paying close attention to the way he was breathing and moaning.
“More, Tane, you don’t have to be gentle.”
I groaned and squeezed his wrists, bucking harder into him, bottoming out so he could feel all of me.
His muscles fluttered, clenching and releasing around me.
I rested my forehead on his shoulder and just felt the way our bodies connected.
It was beautiful, perfect, we slotted together like we were made for each other.
“Please,” he murmured.
I wrapped my hand around his waist and started thrusting, groaning as he moved his hips, matching me.
“Needed you, needed this,” I managed to grate out.
“Me too.” Dillon leaned his head back, turning, trying to get a kiss, even though I was pinning him as tightly as I could. The shower stream continued, soaking us in a deliciously slick way as I shoved my hips against him.
I leaned up, pushing deeper into him as I sought out his mouth and bit his lower lip.
“You’re mine, beautiful Dillon.”
His eyes were closed, lost in the sensations, just how I wanted him to be. “Yeah...”
It didn’t take long for us to get off, the shower stream adding to all the sensations I was already revelling in.
I stroked Dillon again. “Come on, let me feel it.”
He came almost immediately and the way he clenched and squeezed me had me filling him not long after. I released his wrists finally and stroked him through it, holding him as I pulled out and gently cleaned him out.
The water began to run cold just as I finished cleaning him and we stepped out and wrapped ourselves in fluffy towels. Dillon couldn’t keep his eyes open, so I put him to bed. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.”
I pulled on Pjs and went to check on Ginger.
Just as I refilled his dry food, Aster came home, cheeks flushed from the cold outside, or from beers, it was hard to tell.
“Dillon already crashed?” Aster picked up the sleeping kitten and tucked him into his hoodie pouch.
“Yeah, long day, I’m just about to join him. Oh, but uh, if you want to shower, maybe give it an hour? We just used all the hot water.”
Aster blinked. “Uh, okay, good to know?”
“Goodnight.” I beat a hasty retreat to bed before Aster figured out why there was no hot water.