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Guessing that was a student in one of his classes or someone he’d run into around campus, I glanced across the street as I shut the door and locked it. “I hadn’t really been thinking about them. They are…they notice things, though.”
Their gossip network was even better than mine, but I wasn’t sure Russie wanted to hear that.
“They’re smart.” Rocking side to side, he still was looking very thoughtful for a little as he shrugged. “Smart people learn stuff.”
This was not how I’d pictured our night going but I was curious to see where it would lead, so I nodded and gave him a quick cheek kiss. “They do, and we are not responsible for the things smart people figure out.”
Russie’s earnest nod said I was on the right track. “That’s right, Daddy. So we can’t worry.”
There was some logic I’d missed along the way, but agreeing with him seemed like the right plan. “I think that’s a very good way to look at things.”
But what were we talking about exactly?
Mentally walking through the conversation again as I took Russie’s hand and led my confusing cutie toward the kitchen, it took me longer than it should have to figure out what he was talking about.
We weren’t going to worry that they knew he was little and I was his Daddy.
That seemed like it would encompass everything from our dating to BDSM in general, but instead of panicking, Russie looked accepting but confused.
What had Malcolm said over lunch?
As Russie plopped himself down at the table where he’d already laid out coloring books and crayons in preparation for my arrival, he looked entirely too laid-back. “Your roommates are smart too. Can’t help that.”
Yes, Malcolm and I were going to have a chat about their lunch.
“They are smart but they also know how to mind their own business if they need to.” I tried to sound casual about that as I went over and picked out a box of macaroni and cheese. “Just because someone is smart doesn’t mean we have to talk about what they think they know.”
Russie gave a half-shrug as I headed over to the fridge to see how we could dress up the box mix. “But we’re not rude, Daddy. We’re nice. We’re brave too.”
Lunch had definitely been very interesting.
“I agree. We’re very brave and nice.” And that meant we were okay with talking to my roommates about our relationship? “But we’re not going to be too nice and let people push us around.”
“I’m not under the table, Daddy. I’m brave.” Russie seemed to think that made perfect sense because he hunched over his coloring book and started to make a masterpiece. “Can we have dessert? I don’t got none, though.”
Had we eaten all the ice cream?
No, that didn’t sound right.
“Should I ask where the ice cream went?”
My question got a giggle. “No, Daddy.”
Ah.
“Then we’ll see what we can find for dessert.” Part of me wanted to tie treats to explanations because I had more than a few questions running around my head at the moment, but I knew better than to do that.
I’d send him a questionnaire instead.
Yes, that was a much better plan.
So as I dug out some leftover bacon and some sharp cheddar, I started organizing his new list of questions.
“Are we going to play or watch a movie after dinner?” Russie had volunteered a lot of interesting information but nothing about what he thought we should do for the rest of the evening. “I didn’t think we’d get to do anything tonight, so I didn’t plan anything.”
As I dug through what veggies I could find, Russie made a happy agreeing sound. “No meetings. No boring grown-up stuff. No meetings ’cause some people aren’t good grown-ups.”
It sounded like someone had dropped the ball on whatever they were supposed to be doing. But the singsong tone in Russie’s voice said it wasn’t him who’d screwed up, so I wasn’t worried. “You’re a very good little and a good grown-up. You’re amazing.”
