Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Stone
I could tell that he was gearing up to play twenty questions, while I just wanted to watch him play. There were brightly printed schedules tucked in laminated sleeves on the table, detailing the various activities offered during the next leg of our journey.
“Have you checked out the bingo car?” I asked when I spotted it on the list.
“I haven’t done anything yet,” he admitted.
“I didn’t even realize they had a bingo car, which is sad, because I love bingo.
I hope they have awesome prizes. I had to leave most of my stuffies at home because there wouldn’t have been room for anyone to sleep in the bed, even me, if I’d brought them all. ”
“I guess that means there isn’t room to add one to the collection if we happen to win,” I said, sighing. “Sad. I love a good bingo game.”
“Who says there isn’t room for more stuffies?" he declared. “There’s always room for more stuffies, especially if they have unicorn ones.”
“Looks like we have our plan for the afternoon then,” I declared.
Knowing the meals were included in the ticket he’d gifted me meant I went ahead and ordered a burger and ate it while he ate his nuggets, daintily dunking them in different sauces, a new one for every bite.
He wasn’t messy about it, though, and paused to wipe his fingers whenever he got anything on them.
Honey, ranch, sweet and sour, and barbecue sauces were lined up in front of him in a specific order.
One dip, one bite, and on down the line he moved, consuming each nugget in four bites before moving on to the next one.
I hardly paid attention to my burger. I was too interested in watching him, the serene look on his face like glimpsing a rainbow peek out from behind a cloud. There was just something about the soft, genuine smile on his face, like he was the luckiest boy in the world to have those nuggets.
“How was your burger?” he asked, burping at the end of his sentence and blushing afterward. “Excuse me.”
“Not bad at all,” I replied. “Though I suspect the nuggets are the yummiest thing on the menu. I might have to order them next time and an assortment of sauces to go with them.”
“You like nuggets?” he asked.
“What’s not to like?” he replied. “Back when my bandmates and I were just getting started, we’d stop at these places that had giant boxes of sliders and family-sized packs of chicken tenders, find a park or some nature center we could pull into and sit at a picnic table or in the back of the van, and share a feast. We could pack those bite sized sliders away too and fight over the dipping sauces like a bunch of toddlers because they never put enough in the bags. ”
“Sounds fun,” he said, cocking his head as he studied me. “Your face lights up when you talk about them.”
“Because I miss the rat bast…” I stopped myself before I could finish the word, casting furtive glances around me in the hopes that no one had overheard my near slip-up. Fortunately, we were seated well away from the next occupied table.
The knowing smile he gave me was like an arrow to the heart.
He knew what it was like to be lonely and miss people, though I hoped he wasn’t wasting time missing the asshole who’d bailed on him.
Maybe I wasn’t as big of a bastard as I thought I was, because I’d never even think about doing to someone what his so-called Daddy did to him.
Even with my limited knowledge of the dynamic, I still understood that there was supposed to be a sacred trust between Daddies and their littles, pets, and the submissives they took care of, that demanded they put the needs and emotional well-being of their partner first. Maybe I was just a vagabond guitar player and not the brightest crayon in the bunch, but it didn’t seem like the man Payden had been waiting for had given any thought to how devastated Payden would be when he didn’t show up.
Though he did seem to have bounced back enough to have embraced taking this trip with me.
Still, it might be a good idea to pay close attention to how he’s feeling, just in case he was masking his pain as hard as I usually did when I don't want to deal with it.
“Ready for bingo?” I asked once I finished swirling my onion rings around in ranch dressing that tasted like it had been made with real buttermilk.
Yeah, I was getting nugs and onion rings the next time and dunking the fuck out of them.
“Uh-huh,” he replied, doing an adorable shimmy in his seat while he used a wet wipe to finish cleaning his hands.
“Then let’s go see if the numbers will be in our favor this afternoon, little unicorn, or if we’ll be riding off into the sunset with our tails tucked between our legs.”
“You don't have a tail, silly,” he replied, hopping down and taking my hand.
“No, but you do,” I reminded him, carefully scooping it up and draping it over my arm, even if it wasn’t long enough to reach the floor. I stroked the pretty colors and watched his face light up even more. “And it’s way too stunning to be tucked and hidden as you slink out of a train car.”
It felt good to hear him giggle all the way out the door.
“You like words, don’t you?” he said as we passed from one car to the next. “I can tell by the way you put them together.”
“I love stringing together the lyrics of songs, though I guess you could say that some border on poetry, since there’s no music to them yet and I don’t know if there ever will be. You must like words too to work as a journalist.”
“They’re fun,” he replied. “And I love getting to share the events I attend and the conversations I have with others so that even if they weren’t there, it feels like they were a part of it.”
“Songs are the same way,” I said as we reached the bingo car. “No matter how personal the experience was, there’s always a way to write it so others can relate.”
“Whoa, look at all the prizes!” He declared, pointing to the table at the far side of the car that was so filled with a colorful assortment of toys, stuffies, and baskets that they practically blacked out the windows.
“We’d better hurry and get our cards so we can try to win a few of them, then,” I encouraged and ushered him over to the table, where we were presented with a dozen bingo cards and our choice of assorted, colorful bingo markers.
He chose the lavender, and I grabbed the aqua, so our blotters matched his costume. We sat side by side with our cards in front of us, eyes trained on the bingo caller when the game began.
We laughed our way through the first game, nudging one another’s shoulders after damn near every number, whispering about how the game gods must already be displeased with us because we had fewer than six numbers blotted between us before a little dressed in a frog onesie cried out "Bingo!
" and hopped up the aisle to show the bingo caller his card.
Once it was confirmed, he retrieved his prize, squealing when he found a stuffed animal that was a turtle with a frog on its back.
I spied a unicorn peeking out from behind it and wondered if Payden had spotted it too.
It might not be a good idea to draw his attention to it, I told myself as we settled in for the next game, since every seat in the room was filled, creating a fierce sense of competition after every new letter-number combination was announced.
It got to where I started dialing in on the anxious, excited intake of breath Payden sucked in when he heard the letter, often followed by his grumbles, and I swear he cussed those numbers out in the least offensive way possible, though I know he called thirteen a stinky old bad luck sign.
He was so busy giggling when the number sixty-nine was called that he forgot to blot it, so I blotted it on his card and then on my own, suddenly staring at a line of aqua running diagonally across the page.
“Bingo!” I said, waving my card in the air.
It wasn’t until I headed up there with a bunch of eyes on me that I got nervous, hoping I hadn’t fucked it up, but the line was there, in aqua bright enough to damn near glow when the light hit it, so hopefully…
I passed it over, eyes darting to the unicorn again, despite knowing it was still there, since only one prize had been claimed so far. As soon as they confirmed my bingo, I made a beeline for it, spotting unicorn cupcakes beneath it with little unicorn duck bath floats pressed into the frosting.
Oh shit.
Now, which one to fucking snag him?
Okay, cupcakes in a room full of littles weren't going to last long, so I had to hope the… Oh shit, wait a minute. I pulled the cupcake container, and the unicorn stuffy moved with it, tied to the lid of the package with a bow. It was so damned cute, sitting there with all its green and lavender hues and sparkly mane and tail, holding fluffy balloons in its hoof, that I truly couldn’t believe my luck.
This was a serious prize right here, and I kept it hidden as best I could on my way back to our table.
“Unicorn treats for my little unicorn,” I declared, presenting the cupcakes and stuffy to him.
“Ohhhh.”
His hands flew to his lips, eyes widening before tearing up to the point that I was afraid he’d start sobbing.
“Oh my gosh!” He gushed, “They have bath duckies on them. And they're all different. We get to eat the cupcakes and play with the unicorn ducks later. Thank you. You didn’t have to choose something for me when you’re the one who won.”
“And I chose him and his treats,” I said, stroking the top of the unicorn stuffie's fluff. “And then I chose to give them to you because you like stuffies.”
“I love cupcakes too, and now we get to have dessert while we play the next game,” he declared, popping the box open then and there and holding one cupcake out to me.
I ate it from his hand, making nom-nom sounds when I reached his fingers, just to make him squeal and laugh as he pulled them away. Of course, turnabout was fair play, and I fed him one too, then we rushed to catch up on our blotting when the game started without us.
We didn't win that one, or the one after it, but halfway through the fifth game, Payden sat up a bit straighter in his seat and started staring at his card, an intensely focused look on his face that involved the tip of his tongue poking out from between his lips as he sat with his blotter poised over the card. It was obvious why, too, he needed one number, his dreaded thirteen, to be called and he’d have bingo three different ways.
That meant three prizes, and I could tell that he knew it too.
“B….”
Oh, she drew it out, making him squirm.
Payden’s tongue poked out further, his body curling more, inching the blotter closer to the page.
“7.”
Woosh, all the air went out of him. I could practically see him deflate, scowling, before this hopeful look crept back in when no one cried out, "Bingo!"
“B….”
The pause was making him squirrely in the most adorable way. His eyes widened, and he was right back to vulture position, poised and ready to strike.
“13.”
“Bingo, bingo, bingo!” He cried, punctuating each word with a hard blot right over the number.
Hopefully, they could still read it when he got up there, because he tore up the aisle in a flurry of bouncing tail material, doing a happy dance while they checked his numbers.
“Three bingos!” She declared once they’d finished going through them. “Go collect your prizes. This might take a moment, so if anyone needs treats or refreshments, this would be the perfect opportunity to grab them from the snack table.”
I got up and joined the line, glancing over my shoulder every now and again to see him still at the prize table, carefully moving items aside.
Smart boy, not just grabbing the first thing that caught his eye.
Since we’d just had cupcakes and would likely have a few more before we left the room, I grabbed us both juice boxes and white cheddar popcorn, along with a couple wet wipes for our hands, and started to turn away when one of the other men in regular street clothes, probably a Daddy or caretaker, tapped me on the shoulder.
“The cooler under the table has soda and energy drinks for the Bigs, if you’re in need of a caffeine pick-me-up,” he said, directing my attention to the clear plastic bin filled with ice that I’d already spotted.
“I’m good, but thanks,” I said. “If I have the same thing as he does, It’ll be way easier to tell when the sugar twitches and inevitable crash are fixing to hit.”
Whether it was the right way of thinking or not, I didn’t have a goddamn clue. I just remembered hearing one of the leather daddies at a club say it way back when. It had popped into my head while I was trying to select what to get for us, so that was the direction we were going in.
We reached the table at the same time, a huge basket clutched to his chest, along with a package containing bubbles with unicorn heads for caps and unicorn-shaped bubble-blowing wands and another package so hidden by everything else I couldn’t tell what it was.
Oh yeah, Payden had unicorns on the brain.
His basket looked to be filled with unicorn-themed items, including board books, stuffies, and a block train set with unicorn-shaped cars and a uniform figure to act as the conductor.
He’d have fun building those, or we both would, if he didn’t mind me helping him.
I was glad to see that he left everything in the basket, though, with the cellophane wrapper keeping his treasures in there, there was no risk of losing something.
“I got something for you this time,” he declared, a rosy blush blooming on his cheeks.
He removed the plastic wrapping before he passed me a headband with a plump, colorful unicorn horn sticking up from the top, but only after he’d pressed a button to show me the way the tip lit up.
“Now you can be a unicorn too. Well, um, if you want to wear it.”
He dropped his gaze then, at least until I raised the headband and slid it into place. It was a bit on the heavy side, perfect for holding my long hair back as I sat back down beside him.
“There, now we can be unicorn besties to the bitter end,” I declared as the next game got underway. “Onward and into battle.”
I didn’t have a sword to point, but I did have a blotter that I directed at the paper, and as the room was reduced to groans in the wake of numbers and letters again, all I could think about was being unicorn besties forever.
But how the hell was I going to make anything last when this train ride came to an end?