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He was so smart.
Just not about alcohol.
“Thank you for coming to rescue me.” Sighing, he closed his eyes again and shook his head…well, attempted to. He mostly just carefully rolled it back and forth as he groaned. “I’m sorry you had to fuck up your night coming to save me…well, us.”
I snorted as Bishop huffed, cutting me off. “No cursing and you didn’t fuck up our night.”
“We’ll always come to rescue you, cutie, but really, I have a few questions.” I was hoping honesty would be the best policy and get me better answers, but his frustrated huff said I was probably wrong.
“After coffee?” His soft whine had me wanting to laugh again, but I managed to nod and sound almost reasonable.
“Yes, cutie. But first, I think we have to brave your living room.” That was where everyone seemed to have crashed last night after the great BDSM caper had been concluded.
“Can we have pancakes? You promised, Uncle Cohen.”
Huh?
That sentence would’ve made more sense if Ian had said it.
He hadn’t.
It’d come from the floor at the foot of the bed.
Who the fuck was on the floor?
Emerson was on the floor.
His head popped up over the end of the bed, and thankfully I could see his shirt covering his shoulders, so he seemed to be dressed…or at least more dressed than he’d been last night. He gave me a helpless look and pouted, being wonderfully manipulative. “I’m hungry, Uncle Cohen.”
Before I could decide how to respond to that, Ian scoffed. “Stop that. He’s mine and only I get to whine and pout for pancakes.”
Emerson didn’t seem to be offended, but he did pout and stick with the wide-eyed expression. “I’ll go start the coffee. Please…”
Hmm…it might be worth it for caffeine.
“I don’t even know if Ian has the stuff for pancakes.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to get out of it or not, but Ian decided to be helpful.
“I do, Uncle Cohen. I got them special. I even have berries and chocolate chips and whipped cream.” His pride in his careful planning was evident in his voice.
Bishop was going to kill me.
“Alright then. Coffee and pancakes.” My relief at having made the decision was quickly shattered when Emerson bounced up squealing and I realized he wasn’t wearing pants.
I wasn’t sure where I could look and where I couldn’t, so I focused up at the ceiling and sighed as he scurried out of the room, leaving the door open.
Ian giggled, not even looking at the insanity that had just run out into the living room. “Was he naked?”
“Not technically. He had on a shirt and panties.” So just naked enough for it to be questionable…even by the L and L guys’ standards.
Bishop went very still before turning his head and whispering. “Is it some kind of kink-shaming if I tell him he has to wear clothes?”
I snorted. “You’re a Dom at the moment, so you get to make unreasonable rules.”
Ian giggled, approving of the plan. “Daddy’s a Daddy for now. He makes the rules when he’s Dommy and you make the rules when he’s not.”
That was a very good way to see it.
“What do you think about that, cutie?” I thought it was perfectly understood that I was talking to Ian because he was our boy, but obviously not.
Kenton’s head popped around the bedroom doorframe.
“He thinks he should see Bishop’s pup because it’s been three dates, and he wants to play with the puppy and throw a ball for him.” Kenton’s overly helpful answer had Ian springing up like it was a horror movie.
“I didn’t say that.” He looked very offended and very cute, but I couldn’t tell what part he was getting worked up over, so I just waited. “I don’t know if he even has a ball.”
The toy was the problem?
Did Bishop have a ball?
“Would you like to go to the store and pick out some toys for him?” This was entirely new ground for us, but Kenton was nosy…and right. “We can have special little and pup time tonight, and after everyone goes home, we’ll get ready and go to the store.”
Bishop was so quiet it took me a moment to realize he hadn’t put any input into the plan at all. As Ian nodded, he wiggled around and draped himself over me so that Kenton got a wonderful look at his naked bottom. “Do you want a ball, Daddy?”
That had to be the most interesting sentence ever.
Bishop’s brain was probably going a thousand miles an hour, but after only a few seconds, he nodded. “Yes, cutie. Would you like to pick one out for me? It would be very special.”
Ian started nodding so hard, he somehow slipped off the bed.
I wasn’t sure how it happened, but one minute he was grinning and nodding, and the next he was all wide-eyed as he looked like he was on a Slip ’N Slide. “Oh…”
