A Daddy for Alexi by Joe Satoria

18. WARREN

SUNDAY

For the first morning since we adopted the kitten, I woke before Alexi. We stayed up all night, and we didn’t go to bed until he wanted to. It was a reward for having to go through the tense Benny situation. I knew he felt it. He wouldn’t let go of my hand—or I wouldn’t let go of his hand.

I enjoyed him staying over, and all it took was a small kitten. I’d always wanted a cat. They were independent and curious, and I loved that.

I prepared him breakfast in bed. It was his favourite cereal in a retro plastic bowl with a matching plastic spoon. He said they made him excited when he saw them. They were something I’d bought for him online. I wanted to give him everything he wanted, and even things he didn’t know he wanted until they were sitting in his lap.

They were served on a tray. A tray I’d been waiting to use with him. And today was the first time he’d slept over and slept in.

“Wakey, wakey,” I said from the side of the bed. I wore nothing but a nightgown, held loosely by a belt around my waist. It was slowly coming undone. And if he woke any later, he’d have my cock in the bowl of cereal. Probably not something he would object to.

Dressed in his grey Totoro onesie, Alexi stretched out. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. Glancing at me, standing over him, he let out a groan. “What time is it?” his soft voice trembled.

“It’s eight,” I told him.

“Oh no,” he whined. “You woke up first.”

“Of course, I did,” I chuckled back, “and I made you breakfast in bed. Because you’re my boy and you deserve everything in this world.”

He continued to writhe and push at his onesie.

“It’s your favourite,” I said. “Cheerios. Those are the ones you love, right?” He nodded, letting out another stretch. “Big stetch.”

Sitting upright in the bed, I placed the tray over his lap. “We’re going to be late,” he mumbled, “and I haven’t even watched TV with Sugar yet.”

Tucking my nightgown together, I squatted at the side of the bed to look up at his face. “We’re not working today,” I said. “We were never working Sunday.”

“Oh, you—you never—”

“Because I wanted it to be a surprise,” I said. Raising a hand to his face, I stroked my hand down over it. “So, eat your cereal, because we have a big day.”

“Oh?” I felt his jaw clench against the back of my hand.

“I was thinking, we’ll take a short tour of the living room, a tour de television and game, then there’s a beautiful afternoon of getting wet in the tub, followed by an evening of strawberries and chocolate.” I hadn’t planned completely what we would be doing on this day off, but after what happened yesterday, I couldn’t help think that Alexi needed a nice day of peace, to do whatever he wanted.

“You know,” Alexi said, picking up the plastic spoon, “I need to go back to my flat, make sure that Amelia and Tim don’t think I’ve moved out or something.” He offered a wry smile.

“And—that’s something else I wanted to ask,” I said, removing my hand from his face. “You should move in with me.”

He dropped the spoon. Glaring into my eyes, the look on his face as they glazed over. “Move—move—move in?”

I nodded. “Yeah, move in with me.”

He grabbed at the spoon again. “But—but what if—what if we get under each other’s feet and you start getting annoyed at me?”

From what I knew and from what he’d told me, this was what he’d gone through most of his life, quietly going about his life, not saying a word to anyone, or trying to be a bother about anything. “You’re not a bother,” I said. “I want you here because we make each other happy.”

As he started eating, I ran my fingers from his head, pushing back the hood to see the messy long hair. Combing my fingers through it, he smiled, sipping the milk from the spoon. “Did you feed Sugar?”

I shook my head. “I know you like to feed him.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to decide now,” I said. “All I want is for you to be happy, for us to be happy. And I don’t want you running back somewhere every night and letting your side of the bed go cold.” We’d only been together intimately for a few weeks, and yet, he’d left an impression—not on the bed, but everywhere.

Between mouthfuls of the cereal, he looked at me. “I don’t—I don’t want to rely on you.”

“Please,” I said, combing his hair back with my fingers. “I want you to rely on me, I want you to need me, like I need you.”

“You don’t need me.” He looked away.

“I do.”

“But you have everything.”

“Everything but the world’s most precious boy,” I said, “and you fill me with every want to protect, to guard, I would do anything for you.”

“Can I think about it?” He looked at a spoonful of cereal.

“Of course,” I said, standing. I kissed his forehead. “You can have all the time to think about it. My offer stands. I want you to bring all your things and fill this place with more than just what you’ve left and what I’ve bought.”

“All my onesies?” his lips pressed together, forming a wide smile up both sides of his cheek. “I have a lot of them. There would need to be a lot of room made for me.”

“I’ll throw all my things out,” I said into a light laugh. “I’m semi-serious about that part. I would make all the room for you. You already have room here. I’m just asking you to make it permanent.”

It was true. I’d made a lot of room for Alexi, even if he didn’t realise it. His onesies were hung in my closet and there was an entire drawer filled with things for him. He might not have seen them, but they were there.

“So, what do you think about the day I have planned? We can factor in some time to visit yours and—unless, you want to stay there tonight.”

He shook his head. “My place is just one room, it’s so small, I don’t want you to see that.”

I didn’t push him on it; I didn’t want to push him on it. Alexi wasn’t the type of person to push, especially not when I was trying to convince him to live with me. Perhaps I was being selfish. I wanted to wake up to him in my bed every single night.