Zale
Kendry would not leave my mind. At home. At work. In bed. His slightly sullen but very animated voice read to me even in my sleep. I dreamt of dragons flying at sunset, and racing raindrops named John and James. I kept thinking about beetles named Alexander. I raced talking cars and had a few minor nightmares about sea serpents.
I had planned to wait for Kendry to initiate anything that might happen between us, but it seemed I was not patient. I had asked for that hug after our pizza night.
Had I been out of line? If he was ace, did he want touching only on his terms? I could ask him, instead of wondering, but with Kendry I wanted him comfortable, with few or no demands from me. We could just hang out and be ourselves.
But then there was that annoying thing called communication.
I itched to text him the next day, pacing my rooms. Kendry was fun. But more than that, he was getting his hooks into me. I felt it like hands grasping at my shoulders and arms. At my neck and waist.
He had wanted a longer hug last night. I knew that. But I had to stop just in case I was reading him wrong. It mattered that I handle Kendry just right. But that hug. It was everything.
I stared at my phone. This boy. He was the only thing on my mind.
I opened the text window and started to type.
I had a good time last night.
Before I could finish and hit send, my phone chirped. The incoming text was from Kendry.
I started to laugh as I opened the message.
Kendry: Last night was fun. Thank you so much for the pizza and letting me keep the leftovers. When can we do it again?
Zale: I don’t work tomorrow. How about tonight?
I worried I was being too forward. But he had opened that door. He had texted first.
Kendry: I don’t have to work, either. I can work, but I like to take my weekends off. I’d like to see you tonight.
Zale: You can come to my place this time. If you’d like.
Kendry: Yes! I’d love to see it. And you.
Zale: Come early. Texting you my address. Or I can pick you up.
Kendry: I can drive. How early is early?
If it had been entirely up to me, I would have said right now. But it was only ten a.m.
Zale: Come around three o’clock. I’ll have snacks.
Kendry: I love snacks.
Zale: I’ll have dinner for us, too.
Kendry: See you at three.
Did Kendry seem excited? How could I tell from a text? I read our thread over again three times and decided he typed with enthusiasm. That was a win for me. I’d have to keep a handle on things, though. If he was ace, I couldn’t allow myself to get out of hand.
I returned from the store with quite a selection of snacks, and the makings for spaghetti for dinner. Every little liked spaghetti, didn’t they?
I set out a huge serving plate on my coffee table with brownies, tinfoil-wrapped kisses, and mixed nuts, along with carrots, celery, dip, and little dill pickles to round out the healthy choices. I set another bowl out with grapes, sliced apples, and peeled and sectioned Cutie tangerines. I’d even bought Kendry a sippy cup and some juice. It was blue with little yellow emoji faces on it. The grocery store didn’t have a huge selection, but I thought he might appreciate it.
After I got all that done, it was only one o’clock. I stood back and admired my setup. Everything was in place, perfect for the boy that was coming to spend the evening with me.
I sat down hard on my couch at a new revelation. I was acting like a total daddy. I wasn’t a daddy, though. I didn’t crave any little in any onesie sucking on any pacifier. I wanted just one little. That little was Kendry. He was the one. I didn’t care if he was a little or a middle or older. He could be and do anything he wanted and that wouldn’t change how I felt. Nor did I have to change myself around him. I liked doing nice things for my lovers in the past. That was built into me.