A Daddy for Benito by Joe Satoria

19. BENITO

SATURDAY

Harry interrupted my TV show after eight in the evening, his slurred voice. Telling me he’d invited Warren and Alexi to come over tomorrow. At first I thought he was joking, and then I saw a text from Alexi, excited to bring his kittens over to meet me.

I didn’t sleep much, mostly because Harry climbed into bed, drunk, and he laid like a log, snoring. He cuddled me, at least, which was nice, but the smell of alcohol on him wasn’t. I knew he’d hate himself when he woke, smelling like that, the man didn’t leave the flat unless he’d sprayed on several douses of his cologne.

He’d apologised in his sleep, a sloppy arm around my waist as he tried to touch my dick. Even asleep, he had one thing on his mind. But the only thing on my mind was getting the house cleaned, and more importantly, those crumbs which I knew where on the sofa. He hadn’t been around last night to tell me I couldn’t eat pizza while watching TV, nor was he there when I spilled a little yoghurt down my t-shirt and on the arm of the sofa.

Thankfully, he was a heavy sleeper, and that gave me time to clean.

From five-thirty in the morning, I was up, listening to my music in my headphones, being nice, and not giving him a reason to act like I hadn’t done anything. But I did expect a whole lot of grovelling from him. He said he wouldn’t be drinking much, and he’d be home early. Neither of those things happened.

It was around nine when I heard the toilet flush.

“Benny,” Harry’s soft voice called out. I had no sympathy for him, as I continued to watch Sailor Moon. He brought it on himself, everything, and mostly him inviting Warren and Alexi to visit. I didn’t think I would see him until a couple more month down the line, after Alexi and I were solid friends again. “Benny,” he called out once more.

I suppose, I could play doting for five minutes. “Yes,” I said. At the door of the bedroom, I looked at him, he was laid back in bed, his underwear down his ankles.

“Baby, are you mad at me?” he asked, barely lifting his head from the pillow.

“Mad?” I questioned. “You tell me.”

“Phew. Well, I’m saying you’re not mad, so help me.”

I sat beside him on the bed. “Well, I’m annoyed,” I said, slapping a hand on his inner thigh. His cock flinched before he did. It put a smile on my face to know his cock was a priority. “You could have said next week. I don’t even know what I would say, especially after what happened the last time I saw him.”

He reached out; his palm was warm against my back. “You have me now.”

“You should probably get up,” I said, “I haven’t cleaned anything,” I lied. “You trashed the place last night when you came home, and it’s not ready for anyone to visit.”

“What?” He shot upright in bed; his eyes were wide. He glared at me. He was still wearing his shirt on one arm. “No, what—no, please.”

I nodded. “You should go find some bleach too, because I spilled wine.”

“Benito—no—no you didn’t, please.”

The fear in his eyes. I chuckled. “No, I didn’t, but now you’re up, you can at least go take a shower. You smell like beer, in a bad way.”

Harry lifted an arm and sniffed at himself. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Next time—”

“You’ll shower before you get in bed, and next time, I want to go out as well. I only went to Canal Street once when I was here. I’m jealous.” My bottom lip pouting out.

He snuggled his head into my shoulder. “Next time, we will,” he said. “Uh. What time is it?”

I hadn’t been keeping track, but I was calculating time based on the time of each episode of Sailor Moon, and he’d gone ahead and ruined that for me when he called me in. “What time did you invite them over?”

He shrugged; his head still nuzzled into my shoulder. “Afternoon-ish.”

That could’ve been any time after twelve, or before. But if they were in as much of a state as Harry, then maybe that afternoon-ish would have been more like an early evening.

“Oh god. I’ll get you some water.” I moved away. Harry dropped back to the bed.

I had never seen him like that, except the first time we met, we had both had a little to drink, and he didn’t stay the night and cuddle. Maybe if he’d stayed to cuddle, I might think of him differently. Sloppy, was one word that came to mind.

It took him nearly an hour of slow moving and a shower before he looked a little more human, and definitely smelled it.

“I told them I’d make lunch,” he said, appearing over me as I laid on the sofa watching another episode. He was a distraction, but smelling nice, and looking like he did, I didn’t mind being distracted by him.

“I could make them scrambled egg,” I said, pausing my show. “I mean, I’m getting really good at it now, and you know, there’s almost no shell in the bowl anymore.”

He hummed. Ok, there was still some shell that I couldn’t get out because it would always be too slimy. “We could play it off with a small cheese board,” he said, “and on the balcony, because it’s getting stuffy in here. Did you open any windows while you were cleaning?”

“Oh, so you noticed I cleaned up?”

He leaned over me, falling on top of me on the sofa. He laid there for a moment, kissing at my cheeks and lips, going across my face and back again. “Yes, I noticed baby,” he said. “And you did an amazing job. I’m so proud of you.” He continued to kiss at my face.

It was the least I could do while I was trying to do anything to take my mind of the upcoming disaster. “Thank you.”

“Well, I’ll go to the shops, get a whole bunch of cheeses and hams. We’ll show them you’ve changed.”

“I can dress up?” I asked.

He kissed my neck, biting at it slightly. “As long as you feel comfortable.”

I already had it planned out, except, it was going to be three months from now, and not today. I’d been watching my fair share of Gossip Girl between Sailor Moon, and the fashion was always my biggest envy. I had a chunky sweater and a polo shirt, the one with that embroidery on with the guy playing golf—at least, he looked like he was playing golf. Or maybe that was polo.

The sweater was navy blue, and the polo shirt was cream. I looked expensive. I paired it with some of Harry’s sunglasses. They were in his sock drawer, hidden inside a glasses case. And I wore trousers with a belt. This was my interview attire; if I ever planned on going for an interview anywhere. I’d planned that already.

Harry had been gone for twenty minutes before a knock came at the door.

“Forgot your key?” I called out.

There was no response. Predictable though, I would’ve been surprised he’d remember anything after the way he arrived back last night.

At the door, to my surprise and shock, Warren and Alexi. Warren held a small plastic cat crate where a small din of meowing came from.

“Harry just left,” I said.

“Can we come in?” Alexi said. “We’re early, but I thought, if we’re going to be friends, we should spend the day.”

I nodded, welcoming them in with a gesture. Warren continued to stay silent, and I didn’t blame him, the last time we spoke, we were civil, but barely.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were staying with Harry?” Alexi asked.

I led them into the living room where Warren placed the cat crate on the coffee table by the wilting white roses. I didn’t say anything about it, even though I knew Harry would throw a fit.

“I told him I wouldn’t say anything,” I said. “You were out drinking last night then, I take it?”

Alexi immediately shook his head. “No, I went home because we got a new kitten,” his eyes lit up, looking to Warren. “It’s for Warren’s birthday, which was yesterday. And then—” he paused, a giddy breath of excitement.

“I asked Alexi to marry me,” Warren said, “so, we were celebrating.”

Flabbergasted. “That’s—wow—that’s amazing!” I let out. “Congratulations. I should tell him to get champagne.”

Alexi shook his head. “I don’t drink.”

Of course, I knew that. “Well, I’m so happy for the both of you.”

“Thank you,” Warren said, barely wanting to interact. He needed to know that we were in the past, basically historic, and that meant nothing anymore.

The front door burst open. “Ok, so, I got all different hams, and meat slices,” Harry called out. Stunned in place to see the guests had already arrived. “Oh.”

“How come you didn’t say Warren proposed to Alexi yesterday?”

His eyes lit up. “I—shit, I forgot.”

Alexi chuckled it off. “I wanted to tell you in person anyway.”

“We can sit on the—” Harry began, his eyes locking onto the cat crate on his coffee table. “You brought the kittens. Well, maybe we can’t have the balcony door open then. How about, we sit around the dining table and catch up?”

Warren followed Harry into the dining room while I threw myself onto the sofa, letting out a deep gasp.

“Want to see the kittens?” Alexi asked, sitting beside me. “I think, if you work at the café, you’ll probably want to adopt one. But I’m not sure if he likes them.” He was talking about Harry, and I wasn’t sure if he did.

“Sure,” I said, “and I think Harry will talk to that guy.”

“Grant?”

I nodded. “Yeah, think he’ll talk to him about getting me a job. Just something to get me out of the flat. And—”

Alexi’s eyes were glued to the TV screen. “Oh, you were watching Sailor Moon. The cat with the little moon on its head is my favourite.”

“Luna,” I said. “If I had a cat, it would have to be a black one called Luna.”

“Obviously.” Alexi dipped to a knee and unlocked the cat crate. “They’re only babies, so they might get excited and pee on the floor, but it’s ok. Warren said Harry always has cleaning stuff, like a lot of it.”

It seemed his clean freakiness was well-known then. “I think Harry’s hands are full with me,” I said, “if you know what I mean.”

Alexi gasped. “Not in front of Sugar and Syrup.”

“I can’t believe you two are engaged, that’s amazing.”

“It was a shock, because he was talking about how we shouldn’t ever let a day go by without telling the people we love that we love them,” he said, “and then he asked me. I think I cried, but I don’t remember. He said there was no pressure, and that he just wanted me to be happy.”

I would be lying if I didn’t say there was a pang of jealousy in my stomach. They were having this fairy tale romance, and I was still feeling like there was probably a chapter of my life that was blank and maybe if I got to it without a plan, I’d just fall off the face of the world.

“So, do you love Harry?”

It had been a week. I couldn’t say I loved him, but I also couldn’t say I didn’t love him. I was stuck for words, on the tip of my tongue, I didn’t know what was going to come out next. But whatever it was, I’d probably need a bucket.