Page 35 of Just A Little Fling

“Good boy.” Nico smiled broadly at my praise. “We can go as soon as our hands are washed.” His beaming smile turned crestfallen.

“Babbo, my hands are clean. See?” Nico held up his hands, and while they were less dirty than mine, no one would call them clean.

“Nico, you aren’t getting in my car with dirty hands, and neither am I.” Before he could argue, I held up my hands to head him off before he could get a word out. “We’re going in the kitchen. We’re washing our hands. We’re going to the garden center. We’re coming home to plant flowers. We’re going to order a pizza for lunch. That’s our list. Got it?”

“Got it, got it. Let’s goooooooo.”

Never once during any of our hookups had I seen this facet of Nico. I don’t know where it had been hiding, but I was fucking here for it. His stubbornness. His cuteness. His goddamn pouting. I wanted every drop of it because, even with the obstinateness, he was visibly more at ease. The tension lines had left his face. His shoulders were not hunched up. He was no longer worrying about the stupid plants that got trampled. Nico looked happy and carefree, as if the weight of the world wasn’t settling around him. I wasn’t even sure if he knew this was where his mind wanted to go, but I was beyond proud that he trusted me enough to share it with me.

“All right, ladybug, let’s go.” I stretched theOout to mimic him. I earned a giggle.

“I not a ladybug, silly.”

“Well, I’m not gonna call you worm.” Nico’s giggles turned to belly laughs, and a little of my burden slipped away too.

* * *

“How’s it possible to get this messy eating pizza?” I asked Nico as I wiped more sauce from his face. His answering grin and shrug didn’t bode well.

After our trip to the garden center, we came back to the house and planted the flowers we’d picked out. Nico had insisted we get only pretty colors. He declared that meant roses that bloomed pink, yellow, and lavender. They didn’t have purple roses, so we’d added some lavender plants to the cart. Problem solved.

We worked fast because the dark clouds that had been threatening all morning finally let loose. The rain wasn’t heavy, but it was chilly. As predicted, we didn’t use the tools I’d told him we wouldn’t need. Thankfully, Nico was more amenable to putting the tools away than he had been earlier.

We ordered a pizza and sat in the living room to eat. Nico managed to get sauce all over his face. I kept wiping his hands, but I wasn’t convinced I’d be able to save his T-shirt. He was careful not to get sauce on the couch or carpet, which I appreciated. Every time I praised him, he sat a little taller, a little straighter.

“Didn’t I say you got to pick the movie?”

“You did! You did! You promised.”

“I’m not gonna go back on that one. Don’t worry, Sweet Boy.”

Nico settled and gave me suggestions that weren’t helpful at all while I tried to find the remote. I wasn’t sure why he thought it would be in the freezer, but I didn’t bother to look. Luckily for us, I finally found it underneath a couch cushion. Once located, I scrolled through the streaming options until I came to a channel that was mostly cartoons.

“Here you go, Sweet Boy, pick the one you want.” Nico clicked through the options carefully and methodically. He paused on a few, cocking his head to the side as if thinking deep, deep thoughts, and then moved on to the next one. After a few minutes, he decided on a movie about talking cars who lived in the desert.

“Babbo, this okay?”

“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it. Is it a pretty good one?”

“It’s super-duper good, Babbo. You gonna like it.”

“If you’re sure I’ll like it, then it’ll be fine.”

I got the movie all set up for us. Nico was cuddled up next to me, but I noticed his fingers were drawing patterns on his leg as the cars were doing whatever it was they were doing. He needed something more. Decision made. I got up from the couch, went into my office, and scrambled around until I found leftover crayons from god knows when and blank paper. I placed them on the coffee table in front of Nico. When his eyes lit up with excitement, I knew I’d made the right call.

“Draw Babbo a picture while you watch the movie.”

“Okay, Babbo.”

Nico settled on the floor and drew scenes of the movie while he watched it. At one point, he made a map of the town to help the newcomer car find his way around town. By the time the film was almost over, Nico had finished his drawing and scooted over until his head rested against my knee. Almost on instinct, my hand dropped onto his head to play with his hair. My fingers carded through the soft strands, occasionally twirling the longer pieces around.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have a bottle or a sippy cup for him, but I made a mental note to make sure I had them available in the future. The sleepier Nico got, the more his hand found its way toward his mouth. At first, he was tapping against his lips, and then he was pinching them after a little. After a while, he started nibbling the edge of his nail. I knew what my boy wanted.

“It’s okay, Sweet Boy. If you want to suck your thumb, go on.”

Nico looked at me with startled eyes and asked hesitantly, “Me not bad?”

“No, Sweet Boy. There’s nothing wrong with sucking your thumb. It’s fine…go on, put it in.” When he faltered, I guided his thumb into his mouth. He immediately latched on.

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