Uncle, Grunge & Love: Chapter Seven
At the table Jayson served two large bowls of pasta with meat sauce. It was simple but fantastic, and I was hungry as shit. There was some bread, too - couldn't tell if he'd made it or bought it and didn't think to ask. For some reason a cat had my tongue - more likely, his cock had it. I was just tongue-tied, so I said nothing, as I shoved my mouth with food.
"Thanks for the flowers, kid," he said, slurping up noodles. The bouquet was set in a Mason jar on the table.
"No worries," I said, eating. "I'm sorry about this morning."
I meant it.
He stopped, looking at me.
"I was mostly kidding," he said, winking at me. "About flushing my boy away."
"Mostly means that you partly weren't," I replied, looking right into his eyes. He blinked.
"Good point," he said, stabbing his fork into the bowl, twirling it.
"You didn't have to hold dinner, Jay," I said, meekly.
"Naw - I like havin' dinner with you. I like being with you - talking with you - dinner is a good time to talk."
I just nodded, then went back to eating. Suddenly I was trying to figure out what to talk about but all I wanted to talk about was the fact that I was falling in love.
"It's funny," he said, chewing. He'd cracked a couple of beers and took a glug of his. "I been in - like - five or six relationships since I got out of college - been on way too many dates beyond that - and not once did any of 'em give me flowers. Not once. I gave flowers all the time - I gave candy and jewelry and everything. They gave me shit. Maybe a belt or socks at Christmas. But you, kid -" he said, pointing his fork at me, "You've given me flowers twice - in a fucking week."
He laughed at himself, focusing on his meal again, shaking his head.
I spoke: "I like flowers. I like pretty things. I like giving things to people that are special."
He just kept nodding, looking at his plate. But I had become attuned enough to see his faint blush.
"And - I AM sorry -" I said, again this time more forcefully. "I'm sorry, Sir," I repeated, making clear that I took my violation seriously. And I WAS serious - I had been sorry all day - been wound up about it all day. It felt important to get it off my chest - like I could only breathe freely after stating and apologizing for my violation.
"Like I said, I was mostly kidding - but you're right, Stewart. Mostly is not entirely - and so your apology is accepted. I'm - uh - having a bit of a time trying to figure this all out - you know the whole - being in charge thing."
"You didn't have any trouble just now," I said. It was a statement of fact, not an accusation, referring to the near rape just outside of the kitchen.
"I know," he said, nodding again. But, now he was looking at me - eyes of steel.
"Gonna be honest, kid," he said, revealing himself. "I'm a little scared by how much I like it."
"Me, too," I replied.
"What does that mean, precisely? You scared about how much you like it, too - or scared of how much I like it - or scared of me?"
"All three," I whispered.
Then I went on: "What I mostly meant is I'm in the same boat - I'm scared by how much I love you being in charge - taking charge. But - being honest - I'm scared of you, too - in a really fucking sexy way. You get this look in your eye that scares the shit out of me, but that makes me hard as a rock. And I'm kinda scared by how turned on you are - you weren't lying about your sex drive - never known a guy who could shoot as much as you - as often as you ..."
"Is it too much?" he asked, eventually, after processing that.
"No," I replied, clearly. "Absolutely not. It's ... um ... something to get used to - but it's not too much. I - um ... I love it."
"I'm serious, kid -" he went on. "I been thinking about that ass all day long - so there was no doubt in my mind I was gonna fuck you the minute you walked through that door. But - in the corner of my mind, I was also - you know - testing the theory of the case."
"What does that mean, precisely?" I asked, imitating him, which he appreciated. It made him smile. I also used it as an excuse to slow my intake. It was a lot of carbs and I was trying to manage my carb intake.
"You told me I could take it when I wanted it - so I was testing that - you know - testing that theory."
"Did I pass?"
"Did I?" he asked, more forcefully.
"Yessir," I said, enthusiastically.
"Good to know. There's more where that came from."
"I know," I whispered. It was almost worshipful.
"Finish your pasta," he said, pushing my bowl closer to me.
"I'm tryin' to cut my carbs," I said, as if this was a normal conversation between gay lovers - but, it was not.
He got his back up - the eyes came back again - there was fire there, too.
"Finish your pasta, kid," he said, not fucking around now. Even as he stipulated his unease at our new power dynamic, he seemed completely able to exert authority when he wanted to. "We're working out tomorrow and Friday - I'm gonna make sure those carbs are put to good use. And let me worry about your fucking carb intake from here on out, understood?"
"Yes, Jayson," I said, falling even harder in love. "Yes, Sir," I whispered, getting used to the words of respect coming out of my mouth.
"And anyway, kid - neither of us are going to get what we want if we eat like fucking birds. What happened tonight was hot as fuck - one of the hottest things that anyone has ever done for me, you slurping up your slime like it was the most normal thing in the world. If we're gonna do raunch, babe - we got to eat. Every bite you take tonight - every bite I take - gets us closer to the holy grail. Never forget that."
And then he pulled off a chunk of bread and tossed it in my bowl.
"Eat that, too, kid - " he grunted, focusing on his pasta. "But you can take your time. I got a surprise for you tonight - a reward for being Daddy's little toilet pig."
He smiled at me - I couldn't tell if he was joking or being serious but I didn't care. Any talk of love was off the table - at least for now. He had that glint in his eye that told me more sex was coming my way. I ate with gusto, filling myself up with raw material for our future.
The candles kept burning.
((((()))))
We talked a little more - he asked me about my day and I didn't have much to say about it. I asked him about his - he had dealt with the 'That Bitch' at the management office of his prior apartment complex - getting off the lease. Suddenly I got a clue why he fucked me so hard. Kind of turned me on, frankly.
"She fucking broke down sobbing when she signed the new lease - I could tell she hated my stank but she loved my money more, and gave me this song and dance about credit card debt and the new rent - fucking whore. She practically begged me for money and goddamn I cut her a check. Pisses me off."
I just looked at him.
"What? You got something to say about that?"
"No Sir," I said. "Except what I said before - you been shopping at the wrong store, Unc. Not sure what it is with you and women - but it seems like they treat you like shit and you like it."
"I don't like it."
"You put up with it."
"That's true," he growled, pushing around the last strands of pasta. "Fuck, I don't know, kid. I got enough money - at that point I just wanted to be free so I did what I did."
"Are you free?"
"Yah - I am."
"Then it was worth it, huh?"
"I guess so."
"I mean - I don't got that kind of money, Unc - I live paycheck to paycheck - but if you got it, spend it, that's what I think - and if spending it gets you out of That Bitch's clutches - then it's money well spent."
"Just pisses me off."
"Who you pissed off at?"
"Her - at first - but, mostly me. What the fuck, kid? Why do I put up with that shit?"
"I got nuthin', Uncle Jayson," I said, and I didn't. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me. If ladies couldn't see that - it was their loss. "I mean - you heard where I'm coming from. I don't think you should take shit from no one - I think you're the kind of man that deserves - you know - respect. I guess that's considered Neanderthal if you're straight, but from where I sit, I think some guys should be in charge and I think you're one of them. And I think, deep down, you know that - but have never given yourself permission. Or, maybe you were such an asshole when you were a jock that, now you're over-compensating on the other side of the equation. I don't know, Jayson - half the time I don't know what comes out of my mouth - I start talking and shit comes out, so I'm just guessing, but ... you know ... I HAVE known you a pretty long time. Like ... all my life."
There was silence for a while. What I said kind of puffed him up to begin with - but I could tell he was at war with himself, too. Ladies had done a number on him - as I said - but so had societal norms which he clearly did NOT thrive under. But the totality of what I said sure as fuck had him thinking - deeply.
Finally, I caught him looking at me and I realized that I had more to say.
"Just to be clear - I ain't in this for your money. And I ain't in this to make you feel bad or me feel bad - or to make you anything that you're not. Fuck - I like who you are, Uncle Jay. Hell ... I'm beginning to love who you are."
There - I said it.
He looked up at me - eyes shining.
"Kid - you got a way of saying the most bad-ass shit."
I blushed.
"And you know what? We gonna talk about that, too. But after I got free of That Bitch all I could think about is your ass and your surprise - so let's can the small-talk and get some more freak on."
I completely jived on the fact that he'd avoided "The Love Question" and he'd done so masterfully. If anything, it made me love him more. And, anyway, I hadn't gotten my nut and had been sexually charged all day long. My fucking hole was leaking cum and throbbing - and all I could think was what this fucker had in store for me next.
Besides, I could tell he was still thinking and he obviously did his best thinking while having his best sex - so, now was not the time for talk - it was the time for freak.
"Sounds like a plan, Daddy," I said, winking.
((((()))))
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