Chapter 12
Truce
Kairo slept in my arms for hours while I was only able to doze off and on. Sometimes his body shifted, but not to get away. It was to push himself closer to me.
I hadn’t come when he did. But almost. Without any touch. Instead, I settled him, held him, and savored everything. Edging was a thing with me. In kink spaces I was expert at it with others and with myself. I didn’t hate it. I loved holding onto the floaty feeling as long as I could.
As I lay awake, the dark of the room was freeing. I often thought of the night like being in another world whether I was out partying or trying to sleep. My mind raced ahead of itself in the beauty of this particular night.
How long could I keep him? Like most of my experiences, would the aspect of my popularity that everyone seemed to love grow old fast?
Kairo was so fresh and pure. So young. He couldn’t know what he wanted in life yet. He had just started out experimenting and that might be bad news for my heart.
When the shadows of dawn began to decorate my room, Kairo’s eyes opened. He stared up at me in confusion until he seemed to remember where he was. He snuggled close, whispering, “Daddy?”
“Yes. I’m here.”
“Is it morning already?”
“Just about. You can go back to sleep if you want.”
He wiggled. “Oh! I’m naked.”
I chuckled. “Yep.”
“Last night was—was—” He gulped. “I can’t find words.”
“Me, either.”
His eyebrows pushed together. “But you didn’t—”
I kissed his forehead. “Is come the word you’re looking for?”
He nodded.
“Baby, I am the king of edging myself. I love to wait until just the right moment.”
“What’s edging?”
“When a person brings himself to the edge of orgasm and then delays it. It’s a kink and some will ask for it. To be stimulated over and over but never allowed to come.”
“That sounds like torture.”
“Torture of the most pleasing and awful and awesome kind.”
“Hmm. But I wanted you to have as good of a time as I did. I never had anything like that before, Daddy.”
“Never?”
He shook his head against my upper arm, reaching out across my chest to grab a handhold on my shirt.
“Baby, are you a virgin?” I had suspected but a delightful, giddy sensation took me.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Then yes to the virgin thing. But I’m 24. That’s embarrassing to admit.”
“Why? Not everyone is the same.”
He pouted. “Everyone is, though. Usually about something like that.”
“Where did you get that idea?”
“Around.”
“The only difference for you is that now that you've told me I can understand you better. So I can take care of you better. Your mind, your body, your needs.”
“Can I take care of you, too?”
“You already are by being you. Being here with me. Calling me Daddy.”
Kairo still held onto his pout. “It’s not the same.”
“Same as what?”
“You, um, doing what you did last night.”
I smiled, caressing his hair back from his forehead. “Oh, baby. You don’t know yet. But it can be very much the same. Even better. You’re the whole package, sweetheart.”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
“It means you entice me in ways I haven't felt for a long time.”
He snuggled closer. “For reals?”
“For reals,” I replied.
He breathed the word “wow” hotly against my neck.
The quiet peace of my house and the dawn surrounded us. The most I’d done to undress last night was to kick off my shoes. Now, beneath the top sheet, I curled my toes in my socks and basked in being alive.
Finally, I dozed off and woke to find the space beside me empty. I sat up, pressing my palm to the wrinkled sheets. Splashing water noises came from my bathroom. I got up to investigate.
The door was slightly ajar but I knocked anyway. “Kairo?”
“Yes.” The door swung open and a bright, smiling face greeted me. “Hi, Daddy.”
He stood before me wearing only his colorful balloon underwear, which he must’ve hunted for since I’d thrown them willy-nilly across the room when I’d peeled them away from his sweet, hard cock.
Daddy instinct took over. “Do you need anything? I have spare toothbrushes in the drawer left of the sink.”
“Thank you.”
His phone was on the counter, lit up as if he’d been on it.
I couldn’t stop myself from peeking at it while opening the drawer to get out a spare toothbrush.
He had a text window up. The header on the screen said Sorel.
He’d never mentioned that name. It was none of my business, really, but I couldn’t help wondering.
Kairo bowed his head, kicking his bare foot on the tile.
I took a step into the bathroom. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s sorta late. Have I overstayed my welcome?”
“Don’t even think it. I can make you breakfast.”
His eyes widened. “I am hungry.”
“Do you like your eggs scrambled?”
“Yes, please, Daddy.”
As I walked through the room, I bent down and handed him his pants. The label stood out. A famous designer not found anywhere but in expensive boutiques. Setting that aside in my mind, I left him to dress.
When he came into the kitchen, pants and shirt on and looking less like a little and more like a businessman, I was halfway through cooking breakfast.
“Coffee?” I asked.
“Yes. Lots of cream and sugar.” He paused. “If you have it.”
That made me smile. I got all of that from the cabinet, then scraped fresh, hot scrambled eggs onto two plates. The toast was already buttered. Next came the bacon. And a container of mixed fruit from the fridge.
Kairo rocked from foot to foot. “I feel like I should do something.”
I handed him the fruit. “Here, put this on the table.”
When we sat, he looked everything over. “Wow, you cooked all that so fast.”
“Breakfast is pretty easy.”
“But I always have to wait longer.” His voice trailed off. “I mean, well, that didn’t come out how I meant.”
“You mean you take longer to cook it?”
He shook his head, shoveling eggs into his mouth. “I don’t cook.”
How did this sweet man get by? Then I glanced again at his shirt and remembered the label on his pants. If he had enough money for those, maybe he got takeout every day.
“That’s okay. I can cook. That’s what daddy’s do.”
“And also, other things.” He smirked as I laughed, forked some eggs onto his toast and took a large bite.
He wasn’t a large man, but boy could he eat.
“Slow down a little. Enjoy.”
He looked up. “I work out four days a week. Not because I like it but on purpose so I can eat whatever I want. Grandfather told me I should always move my body when I think about it. He walked every day up until he got sick.” His head bowed.
“I think he saw me lying around playing a lot of video games when I was a teenager and worried I’d get sick like him. He died.”
“He sounds smart. I’m sorry he died.”
He stopped chewing. His breaths deepened. He blinked and spoke softly. “Four years ago. I don’t really remember much the first weeks after. Sorel got me into grief counseling. It helped a lot.” He slipped at his coffee. “Am I talking too much? I do that when I’m nervous.”
“No.” I reached out and patted his hand. “I love hearing you talk.” I meant it, but my shallow male brain kept asking, Who is Sorel?
Being forward was easy. Like a default. Yeah, I could be a dick no matter how popular I was. “Is Sorel a friend of yours?”
Kairo’s head jerked up. “Who? Oh yeah. Yeah. A friend.” He gulped and I instantly knew he was lying.
But why?
“I’m glad he could help you.”
“Yes. He’s been helpful.”
A tinge of envy poked at my heart. “Good.”
I wanted to know more. But I hadn’t earned that position yet. Guys who felt interrogated often ran. Pushing others too much too soon caused shorter relationships.
After breakfast, Kairo helped me clear the table.
But it was obvious he didn’t know his way around a kitchen.
He couldn’t even find the dishwasher, but when I showed him he eagerly helped me put the dishes in.
He asked a lot of questions. Where did this or that go?
The weirdest question was if I had different place settings for different times of the day.
Getting to show him around was fun. His little self emerged more and he became the sweet baby I knew he could be.
We went to the living room with our second cups of coffee and sat on the couch where last night’s date had all begun.
He leaned against me, a welcome warmth. “You have today off?” he asked.
“It’s Saturday. My offices are closed. No texts, no emails, no phone calls from my boss asking for a just-finished file.”
He stretched. “Sounds a bit stressful.”
“Sometimes. I love it, though. I got my accountant’s license when I was twenty-two. It pays well enough that I could afford this little place. Do you like it?”
Kairo glanced around, smiling. “It’s cozy and comfortable and you live here. So I love it.”
That was about the nicest answer I ever could have expected.
“It’s my pleasure to share it with you.”
He looked up at me. “What? What does that mean?”
“I mean, I want you to come over again. Spend the night again.”
He sat up, his legs sliding over the edge of the couch. “Oh. Yes. I definitely want to. But I should go.”
So soon? Don’t push, I reminded myself. “All right. But come back, won’t you?”
His bright blue eyes sparkled at me. “Soon?”
“Tonight, if you want to.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
His laugh fizzled through the air. “I want to. Tonight I swear to everything I love, Pinkster and Virgil and Raspberry to name a few, I don’t have any plans tonight.”
“Who are they?”
“You know who Pinkster is, Daddy.”
“I do.”
“Virgil is my butterfly. And Raspberry is my teddy bear, the only toy I came with when I went to live at Grandfather’s.”
“Your butterfly’s name is Virgil?”
He nodded.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just came into my mind. I’m weird.”
“Not to me. Can we do our dinner out tonight, then?” I asked.
“Oh boy! That would be fun!”
“Six o’clock.” I wanted him earlier but I also wanted to give him time to reflect and not feel pressured.
“That’s good. I won’t be late, I promise.” He put his hand over his heart.
Suddenly, I remembered late last night he’d been dropped off. “I can give you a ride home, baby.”
Quickly—too quickly—he blurted. “Oh no. No. I’ll take an Uber.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure. I want to. When I don’t drive myself, that’s how I like it.”
“Well, I am a good driver.”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m sure. But I have an account with them and everything.” His voice trailed off again like he didn’t want to say more.
Secrets. My boy had secrets. I just needed to be patient.