A Daddy for Alexi by Joe Satoria

10. WARREN

I forgot to be cautious, I forgot to assure him and be caring. In my limited experience, I knew I needed to be there for him, and I knew I needed to make the effort. He was hurt I hadn’t texted him, and I understood that. Alexi had been trying to protect himself emotionally, and he’d been doing a good job at it. Keeping himself held off. I was the reason he let his guard down. I made him come out for coffee, and I made him listen and talk.

“Where are we going?” he asked as we entered the multistorey car park. He’d stopped a couple paces behind me.

I held my hand out for him. “So, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” I said. I stepped closer, taking his hand. He held it. My thumb stroking over the back of his hand. “It’s a surprise, or at least, it was going to be a surprise tonight when I asked you to come over.”

“Oh.” His hand grew tight as he tried to pull it from my hand.

“But it’s still a surprise, and I want you to see it now,” I said, keeping his hand in mine. “So, let’s go find my car, and you can see what I’ve got for you.”

The car was parked on the third floor. It was close to the office building, which was great, and equally close to the city centre.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked as we stepped into the elevator.

In the reflective panels, I saw his soft face pouting and his eyes filled with emotion. I wanted to squeeze him and tell him it wouldn’t happen again. “I’m not mad,” I said, “I’m mad at myself, I should’ve been better.”

“Don’t you think I overreacted?”

I pulled him tight into my arms, squeezed in my embrace. His head resting on my shoulder. I stroked his hair, gently. “No,” I said, kissing his forehead. “I told you I’d text in the morning, and I didn’t.”

I could feel him exhale, like a relief from his shoulders. He sighed. “Where were you coming from?”

“When? Just then?”

He nodded.

“We were actually out at a printer, and we had an early morning meeting with the food festival organisers about our booth. We need to make sure of sizing for banners and the logo, you know.”

“I feel silly for overreacting.”

“No, no,” I said, kissing his forehead once more. “You didn’t. I should’ve known, you’re not like everyone else. You’re special, and I should’ve remembered.” I was the one who felt silly. I should’ve left him a note, I should’ve tried something else. Communication was so important for him, to have the reassurance, that’s what he relied on. Words.

The elevator dinged as we arrived the third floor of the car park.

Walking, we held hands. I approached my car. It was a beat-up old Honda Civic. I hadn’t bought a new car, or even thought about it in years. I personally thought they were a waste of money, they devalued almost immediately, definitely not an investment when you already live so close to cheap transport links.

“What is it?” he asked, his hand squeezing at mine with excitement.

Pulling my hand away, I had to key the lock of the boot. Opening it to reveal three grey postal bags. They’d been delivered to the office this morning.

“On Friday night,” I began, “when you came over, and you went to sleep. You were so cute. I couldn’t sleep. Staring at you, in a non-creepy way.”

Alexi shuffled on his feet; compliments made him uncomfortable too.

“So, I ordered you some things, and I was going to invite you over tonight. They’re not big, but they’re—just open them and see.”

“I love presents,” he said, his hands itching to get them.

“Give me those,” I said, taking the shirt and small bag tucked beneath his arm. “They’re all yours.”

There was a childlike excitement to the way he tore through the packaging. I didn’t know why they were packed individually, but they were.

There were two onesies, one in Totoro grey with the ears and tail to match, the second was a panda onesie, and the third package was a suctioned pastel purple bear to match his phone case. It looked small in the suctioned bag, but it was supposed to be half his height when fluffed out.

“I got them for when you came over,” I said. “I didn’t have anything that fit you last time, and I wanted you to have something for you.”

“I could—” he paused, squeezing the fabric of the onesie to his face.

“I asked you on Saturday night, and last night,” I said.

“You’re so busy, and I—I need to prepare myself for being around people,” he said.

It was understandable. I didn’t want to push him or the topic of him coming over. He made his own steps, and I liked that about him. They were small steps, but courageous ones for him.

“I love it,” he said. “I do.”

“The teddy was because you kept reaching out for something in bed,” I said, “and I think you enjoyed being spooned too much to turn and grab me.”

He blushed. It was a strange colour to see under the harsh light in the car park. I could see his chest raised slightly, pulling the onesie harder in his arms. He was going to cry.

I immediately pulled him into a hug. “I don’t want you to quit,” I said. “I’ll see if I can get you some different work. Would you like me to do that?”

“Please,” he sniffled.

I kissed his forehead, moving my head to nuzzle my nose again his nose. “You’re too sweet and pure,” I said. “You can’t work with people all day.”

“I already quit,” he said.

“Unless it’s in writing, you still work for Fizz,” I said, “so, I’ll see what I can do about moving you around. But that’s only if you want to keep working there.”

He nodded. “Because then I’d get to see you every day.”

I squeezed him tighter into my arms. “If you accepted my invite to spend the night with me, you could still see me, every night.”

Alexi pressed the fabric to my cheek. “If this is what you’re offering, I don’t think I can say no.”

“Good boys don’t say no, do they?” I asked in a whisper against his ear.

He shook his head.

“Daddy likes good boys.”

“I’m a good boy,” he snapped, quiet and quick. “I am.” His doe eyes, looking up at me. They were also the same as his, fuck me, daddy eyes.

“You know,” I said, “let me keep my word, let me take you back to my flat so you can give me a show in these.”

“But—but you have to work.”

“I can go back for my meeting in the afternoon,” I said, “but this can’t wait. I want to see you in that.” I tugged at the grey onesie. “It’s a small, it should be perfect for you.”

“Thank you.”

Reaching around, I slipped a hand down the back of his trousers. They didn’t feel lacy, at least not the lace he’d worn the other night. “Oh, what underwear are you wearing?”

He looked hesitant to say. “Yours.”

“Oh, daddy’s underwear?”

“I took them.”

“And how do they feel?”

Alexi chewed on his lip. “Feels good,” he offered in a hushed voice.