Chapter 47 Jericho
JERICHO
The sound of laughter is loud as I carry the tray of snacks to Raiden’s dance studio in the backyard, following the stones of our pathway.
The sun shines brightly through the puffy blue clouds in the sky, the weather is starting to warm up so Raiden has been allowing his dancers to play outside while they wait.
Damon is spinning in circles, holding the hand of another boy in his class. When the pair sees me, they smile before charging at me full speed, still holding hands. They attempt to run past me, forcing me to break their arms apart as they cackle.
The other boy, Mateo, is Damon’s neighbor and in his same class at school. I got to hear all about the new boy at school at our last family get together. Damon blushed the whole time, but his toothy smile was too adorable with one missing front tooth to try to heckle him about it.
Mateo’s mom and Sophia have been getting close recently too, so I’ll expect to start seeing her more often than her just dropping Mateo off at dance practice.
The other kids from Raiden’s class hear the commotion and all file out in a mess of unorganized chaos as they surround me, reaching their small, grubby hands out for the snacks I’ve brought.
I’ve been demoted from the cool uncle Jer that Damon proclaimed me as, to a swarm of children’s snack bitch.
It’s not too bad of a demotion though, I quite like trying out different recipes and things I’ve seen online.
Especially if it has hidden vegetables, but that’s mostly for my own entertainment of feeding the children stuff that is good for them, but tastes good.
I’ve shared quite a few recipes I’ve tried with the other parent’s as well and they have nothing but glowing reviews.
Raiden flows out of the doorway, like some sort of ethereal fairy prince, with his pink hair braided back and tied at the bottom to keep his hair out of his face.
There’s still a few strands that have managed to escape and surround his flushed face.
Beads of sweat are visible through the thin shirt he has on.
He’s been working too hard for too long.
He pushes himself to his limits most days, and sometimes it scares me.
But other times, it amazes me with how much he’s managed to overcome.
Especially in the short month he’s been out of the hospital.
We managed to get all of his stuff moved in.
He started his own dance academy as he calls it, even helping out with the high school’s dance team.
He’s been exceptional in everything he’s done.
And seeing him standing in front of me now, I’m hit with the same sense of awe as I always am when it comes to him.
If we were anywhere else, I would pull him into me and trace my tongue up the side of his neck to catch the droplets of sweat lingering there. Tasting the salty release and his clean skin. But there are children around, and children should not be subjected to see anything like that.
I’ll wait until they go, then I can properly defile my boyfriend in the peace of our own house.
Just thinking about it has my blood boiling. We haven’t gone all the way yet, my dick still too sensitive to do anything more than stroke the tip and the top of it, but I’m dedicated to doing it tonight. I have everything planned, and Raiden doesn’t suspect a thing.
Raiden stops in front of me, his chest heaving and watching me with half lidded eyes as I finish handing out all the snacks.
“And one for the choreographer,” I say teasingly, holding out the banana protein muffin I made, stuffed with chocolate chips. I might have eaten one to make sure they tested good… Okay, it was actually three but they’re decently healthy.
“You mean head choreographer, owner, wrangler of children, and speaker to animals.” He dramatically fans his hand in front of his face, his eyes are bright with laughter.
After he found a family of squirrels in our backyard and has taken to feeding them everyday, he claims himself as the Dr. Doolittle of our house.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. Is that not what I said?”
Raiden takes a huge bite of his muffin, smearing chocolate from the chips along his chin and making a mess, before groaning dramatically and fluttering his eyes.
“I don’t even care what you originally said. These are so good, please tell me there’s more.”
“There’s plenty more, and I have some extras I put in the freezer that we should be able to thaw out and eat next week for breakfast since you’ll be so busy.”
“A man after my own heart.” He blows me a kiss, before he gets distracted by one of the kids asking him a question.
When the rest of the kids join in, asking Raiden questions about everything under the sun, I leave him to it, double-checking that everyone got a muffin before I go back inside and continue my boyfriend duties of preparing food.
Next week, Raiden is helping the dance team with their tryouts.
He’s doing their routine and judging them while they practice, and then again as they perform.
He’s been walking around the house saying a team is only as good as their weakest link.
And reminding himself that he was in their shoes once, remembering how stressful tryouts used to be.
On top of all of that, he has his weekly meetings in the backyard with a group of friends he’s made from an online forum.
A group of abuse survivors make themselves at home in our backyard once a week, celebrating their growth and enjoying themselves over charcuterie boards and fancy mocktails that I specially craft each week.
Next week I’m going to be busy as well, helping a local group with the new software we’re starting to distribute.
Hollis is taking a back seat on this, he and Connor are too busy being lovey dovey to care if the business tanks, but me and Ace are hell- bent on getting this contract with them.
They’re working with specific underground organizations to target pedophile rings, and with the new software that Elijah engineered just to backtrack and be able to trace something or another.
I still don’t know exactly how it works, but I’m going to talk with them about their plans.
Maybe they’ll even let me assist. I have plenty of experience from my time in the military, and I could be of help.
Caught in my own thoughts of how that would even work, a gentle tug breaks me out of my career opportunities.
It’s Mateo, and he’s looking up at me with dark grey eyes, lined with tears.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” I squat down awkwardly, trying to get down to his height so he won’t have to crane his neck to look up at me.
He doesn’t answer, but wraps his arms around me and puts his head on my shoulder. I feel the warm liquid of his tears soaking through my shirt. I rub his shoulder, feeling them tremble with every hiccup he lets out.
The other children are still outside playing, I can hear their loud laughs and squeals as they entertain themselves as I hold this boy from crumbling.
“I don’t fit in,” he finally says, lifting his head away from my shoulder and wiping his nose on his arm. It’s gross, I’m not going to lie, so I stand up and offer him a paper towel from the holder on our counter.
He takes it, grateful, then throws it away when he’s done, coming to stand back in front of me.
His eyes are puffy and swollen, but he stands tall as he looks at me.
There’s still a small tremor in his shoulders, but I admire his resilience as he squares his shoulders and speaks his words clearer this time.
“I don’t fit in with the other kids. They’re all so good and I’m not. ”
I’m confused at what he’s talking about, not realizing that it’s about Raiden’s dance class until I hear the music coming from our outdoor stereo and Mateo’s eyes well up again.
“You’re amazing, Mateo. I’m sure Mr. Raiden thinks so too, but the most important thing is that you’re having fun.” Isn’t that what I’m supposed to tell kids? It’s not about the finish line but the journey there?
“I don’t know if I’m having fun either.” He looks so pitiful, I pull him into my arms, and rub my knuckles across his head, messing up his dark hair.
“If you’re not having fun, don’t do it anymore. You should be having fun.”
His face blushes and he hides it away from me and I realize the real root of the problem. Oh god, how young do kids start having boy problems? Mateo is the same age as Damon, and Damon is seven. Is that too young?
That’s way too young.
“Maybe… Mr. Raiden could help you? If you tell him what you need, he can be really nice and show you until you understand,” I offer lamely.
“I can do what?” Said man asks, breezing into the kitchen and thieving another muffin from the cooling rack.
“You can help Mateo, he’s struggling with some things and I think he could use your help.
” Translation: I have no clue how to comfort children and the only child I have experience with is Sophia and at least I knew her well enough that I could say hey, might have accidentally said something awful to your kid today, might want to check in with him before bedtime and make sure I didn’t traumatize him.
I don’t think I can do that with other people’s kids.
Raiden immediately jumps from playful Raiden to his Mr. Raiden persona, the man who is in charge of making sure children don’t get hurt on his watch but also manage to have fun at the same time.
“Let’s go to the studio, and we can figure it out.” He extends his hand to the little boy, waiting for him to take it before they walk out the door. Before they disappear from earshot I hear Mateo ask, “Can we invite Damon too?”
I don’t hear Raiden’s answer, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he lets the other boy join them as well.
By the time every child has been picked up, Raiden is exhausted. He barely manages to drag his ass to the island counter and prop himself on one of our bar stools. My back is to him, I’m working on dinner for us tonight. Something light for what I have planned for us later.
“Did you know kids could be that exhausting? I swear, I played the “Cha Cha Slide ten times in a row. By the last time I was all out of Cha Chas. Shouldn’t that song be extinct by now? It’s what we were dancing to when we were their age.
” I turn my head to watch him as he wipes a bead of sweat away from his forehead with his arm.
When his eyes catch mine, his face lights up.
A wide smile taking over the previously exhausted lines around his eyes.
“It’s probably because you played it for them.
How often do people listen to that now? They probably think it’s retro or whatever.
You have no one to blame but yourself.” I turn my attention back to the sauce in my pan, gently stirring the ingredients around so they don’t stick.
I hear Raiden’s growl of annoyance and chuckle to myself.
It’s so fun to poke the bear, especially after he’s had a long day.
He starts off irritable, but by the time we make it into the bedroom he’s all smiles and pleasures as I blow his mind and his dick.
“Dinner should be ready soon, do you mind setting the table?” It's become a tradition of ours to set the table. It makes our nights together feel intentional. It’s not a couple eating because they have to, but an experience for two people to enjoy.
A time when we can unwind and have us time, with no interruptions and nothing from the outside world to burst our bubble.
Raiden sets the table, choosing a light pink color that compliments his hair. We found the placemats at an estate sale a few weeks ago, we picked them up along with a full stack of different colors and patterns. It’s always fun to watch Raiden decide which one he’s going to pick to set the tone.
“I love you, tiny dancer,” I whisper in his ear as I place the plate of pasta in front of him. It's a creamy, garlic pasta with a side of french bread that I toasted in the oven. I might have a calling to be a chef.
“Godddd, and I love you,” he says around a mouthful of pasta. I press a kiss to the crown of his sweaty head, and take my seat right beside him.
He places his hand on my leg, running gentle circles as he stuffs his face with food. In between big bites, he tells me about his dancers from today.
And it’s perfect. Everything about my life is perfect.
And I have Raiden to thank for that.