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Wakingupwithmyboy sleeping against me is the calmest feeling I can remember. I may not have Tiffany's dealer, but I've carried out some important housekeeping with my thieving cutters. There is some satisfaction to be had from that. And then there's Porter. This delicious boy resting with his head on my shoulder, arm across my chest. I've pushed him to the limit so far, with the theory that I'm better off scaring him away now with my sexual appetite. It would be worse if we let a connection develop and then I reveal what I want to do to him. Yet every word that he spoke in his sleepy rant was about staying. I feel so good this morning, I would quite happily be rid of Tiffany as he requests.
“Morning treasure,” I greet him as he stirs.
“Huh?” My sleepy boy replies.
“There’s no rush to get up today.”
“Can I phone my mum today?”
“You can do anything you want; just remember she doesn't book in till ten.”
“She's going to hate me, isn't she?” He mumbles sadly.
“Yes. Drug addicts don't see help as it really is.” I can't lie about his mum's feelings. She isn’t going to thank him for this, and she will struggle with rehab having not chosen to repent from the demon in her veins. The likelihood of a successful cleansing is slim, but all I can do is try. I just need to remember, and remind him, that this is about him. Getting that woman out of his life is the best thing for him. He needs to fly from the nest he's been trapped in, preferably to my silk lined luxury nest.
“How do you sleep at night knowing you are giving them drugs?” Keeping his head down, Porter’s fingers run little paths around my abdomen. Drawing a secret tattoo that only he can see.
“Because if I didn't, someone else would. I guarantee my crack is pure, not diluted with the shit that causes overdoses. And all my users are recreational users who know how to shoot up safely.”
His short laugh is sarcastic, I can imagine images of druggie schools dancing through his head.
“Take your dancing, for example. You could dance safely on a stage before an appreciative audience, or you could perform in a seedy club where nothing protects you from groping hands.” If he gives me any hint that he works in the latter, he will be unemployed by the end of the day.
“I suppose it makes sense,” he decides. Honestly, I think he's too sleepy to really care.
“Today I think we can have breakfast in bed.”
“Can you… am I… these…”
I dream of a day when he manages full sentences. But I also dream of calling him mine forever.
“Gonna need a bigger clue than that.” My chuckle annoys him, but he starts haphazardly waves his arm around to the point where I conclude he wants the wristbands off. The poor boy is shy to wear them in public, and by public, I mean Gladys pushing a trolley.
“We have a dumb waiter,” I inform him, trying not to laugh anymore. The boy is naked under the quilt but it's his hidden arms that bother him. It's cute, especially after Gladys confirmed my suspicions he was skinny dipping in my pool. Such innocence doesn’t belong in my world, but I won’t let him go.
“That's not nice.” He pushes himself up.
“What isn't?” What were we talking about before my mind trailed off to naked swimming?
“Do you mean they are mute or not intelligent?” He challenges me. At least I'm getting full sentences from him, even if it makes the same amount of sense as his stuttering. I stare at him confused until it finally clicks.
“Oh, the dumb waiter?” I think I've backtracked far enough now. “You are adorable.” This time I can’t stop the laughter.
“Why are you laughing at me? You shouldn’t refer to someone like that.”
He is completely serious, and I have to mentally discipline myself to stop laughing.
“A dumb waiter is a cupboard. Gladys puts a tray of food in the opening in the kitchen and there used to be a pulley to bring it up to the cupboard here. It's all wireless now.” The look he gives me is priceless.
“Now I feel dumb,” Porter grumbles.
“You're not dumb,” I run my fingers through his hair then cup his chin. “It's a stupid name and not something many people even mention or use anymore. Really not a surprise you didn’t know.” He gives me a tiny smile and shrugs.
“May I use the bathroom?”
“Absolutely.” I grant free usage of the facilities as he needs them. “Did you like breakfast yesterday? I'll order the same again.”
“Does she have any chocolate muffins left? They were magical.”
