"More than anything, but I only have a shower." At least it wasn't rejection or fear coming off of him, it was practicality.
"Then how about we get you some warm jammies and I’ll put on some hot cocoa?"
"I don't have any."
I reached into my coat pocket. "Good thing I bought this while you were putting the mustard on your hot dog." I held up two packets of cocoa that were decorated to look like reindeer.
He clapped his hands and ran into the other room.
Cooking in someone else's kitchen, even something as simple as hot cocoa, took a bit of adjustment in finding things. The entire time, Mr. Whiskers was staring me down. "Listen, Mr. Whiskers, I'm not here to steal your boy, I promise."
He didn't look like he believed me.
"And besides, you want to like me. I have a cat condo for you at home. It looks like a fairy village."
"You don't have a cat?" I looked up to see Dakota there. I hadn't realized he had been listening.
"No, I just felt bad. There weren't a lot of tickets in there, and I figured I'd know where it belonged when I did. And I think Mr. Whiskers needs it."
Dakota ran over to me, throwing his arms around me. "You're the best!"
"I'm not, but I try." He looked up at me, and I wanted to kiss him, but I also didn't want to step on boundaries, especially with him wearing his Christmas jammies again, which were very much Little-coded. I shouldn't have worried. He leaned up on his tiptoes and kissed my lips…gently, sweetly, and far too quickly.
"Let's have cocoa, Santa." It wasn’t Daddy, but felt just as amazing.
"Yes, baby boy, let's have some cocoa."
We did, but as we drank, he started yawning.
"It's time for bed." I took his nearly empty mug from him.
"I know, but can you stay?"
"Is it because you want milkies, too, Dakota?" And that was an acceptable reason. I just needed to know what he was asking for. The answer was going to be yes to any of the possible questions. I doubted I’d ever be able to turn this sweet boy down.
"Yes, but also no. Can you stay? Stay, like, still be here in the morning?" He was so brave asking for what he needed.
"Of course I can."
And that was how I ended up with Dakota's lips wrapped around my nipple as he sucked on my chest, drinking my milk. Only this time, it was different. It wasn't him just getting milk, at least not anymore. Because as he switched to the second side, his hand went lower and lower still, until he wrapped himself around my long, hardening length.
"Does my Dakota want more than just milkies?"
He popped off my nipple and nodded his head.
"Use your words, Dakota."
"I want you, Niko. I want you."
7
NIKO
I hadn't expected the evening to take this turn, but I couldn't say I was disappointed. Dakota's warm mouth on my nipple sent waves of pleasure through my body, a feeling I'd grown accustomed to in our time together. His tongue circled the sensitive areola before he latched on and started to suckle, drawing in the milk my body naturally produced.
Just the act of nurturing connected us in a way words couldn't express. But tonight felt different. Tonight, I sensed something shifting between us in a hunger that went beyond this familiar comfort.
What had started as just dinner had evolved into this intimate moment when he'd looked up at me with those wide, innocent eyes and asked for more. How could I ever deny him?
