Page 29 of A Little Christmas! Johnny
Two hours later, we finally park at the duplex after we delivered four of the five dogs to the vet for boarding. Despite my earlier nap, I am still exhausted and want to curl up with my boy for the next twelve hundred hours. I’ll even accept the drooling ball of fur that insists on hogging half of the bed as long as I get my Johnny snuggles in.
23
JOHNNY
The last week has been amazing. I basically moved out of Russel’s half of the duplex and into Dexter’s the day I brought Peanut over and was even able to get my stuff out of the storage unit before I would get charged for another month. Despite the whopping fifteen dollars extra in my bank account, what is more important was going through all of the stuff with my Daddy. I showed him all of my albums of project cars that I’ve done with Mike. He even put my “Best in Show” trophy up on the bookshelf in the living room with the photo of me, Mike, and Steve from the big car show in South Park a few years ago. That Challenger was a thing of beauty – and the last car we all worked on together.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I actually feel cared for. I can’t say loved because I know the niblings love me. I know the dogs love me. But no one ever stops to take care of me. At least, not until Daddy Dexter came into my life.
Tomorrow is Christmas Day, and as much as I’m looking forward to ripping into those presents under the tree, there’s something more important that I need to take care of with Dexter. We’ve known each other for almost a month now, andI still haven’t seen the man naked. I even asked Russ if Dexter is asexual. At least if he was, then I wouldn’t feel like there’s something wrong with me that he doesn’t want to have sex with me.
It was a long talk over many beers for me and at least an entire bottle of wine for him while Daddy was at work the other night. Finally, he got it through my head that Dexter is being careful with me because we don’t know yet if I’m the type of Little who likes sexy times while Little or if I need to be fully Big to enjoy them. I guess I understand what he means, but at the same time I don’t.
While I’m sure there are Littles out there who mentally regress to the point where sex isn’t on their minds, I’m not one of them. I enjoy the peace of sucking on a binkie and building pillow forts. Finger foods and coloring are a blast. Having Daddy wipe my hands and face after meals or helping me brush my teeth is comforting. But I never forget that I’m a grown man and that I reallyreallywant to swallow my Daddy’s cock and ride him like I’m a rodeo star.
And that’s why Daddy’s present from me for Christmas is me.
Russ helped me find the perfect pajamas covered in candy canes – complete with butt flap. I’ve taken care of all of the baking, even making those amazeballs brownies. I was a good boy, too. I only ate five of them. Russ was the bad boy taking an entire pan over to his place without bothering to ask. I would have said yes, but he’s on the naughty list for sure for just stealing them like that. And then he had to go and leave for Florida to see his dad, so I can’t even go steal them back.
Now, all I have to do is wait for six o’clock to roll around for Dexter to get out of work and then I’ll have my Daddy for the whole day. After my shower, I still have at least another hour to kill before I need to worry about dinner. I’ve already unpacked and put up a few of my decorations from the boxes inthe basement. Instead of putting on the pajamas and risk getting them dirty, I throw own some boring sweats for now. I’ll change after dinner is ready.
In my family, Christmas Eve is just another night. If we ever did dinner together as a family, it was nothing special. I always hated that. Since I’ve lived on my own these last couple of years, I’ve gone all out in steeping myself in Christmas traditions. I learned from watchingDoctor Whothat linguini alfredo is a thing for Christmas Eve in the UK, so I incorporated it into my own traditions. I’ve added shrimp and scallops and even got crab legs for a full seafood feast this year. But I don’t want to cook those things too early or they will get rubbery.
Since I’m so far ahead in my schedule, I pull out my phone to check what’s going on in social media land. I’m not one to post anything, but I like to check out what other people have going on. A few of the guys from the shop post some hilarious videos and memes at times as well, so it’s not just my niblings that I follow. And yeah, I have the whole family in my friend list, but I usually skip over everyone else’s posts.
@jess_the_mighty2910 shared a story
Huh. I didn’t expect to see anything from my nibling while they are on the cruise.
“Looks like your person figured out a way to get Wi-Fi access,” I tell Peanut with a scritch behind his ear. “I know they at least know better than to risk the international data charges.”
Within seconds of me liking Jess’s story on Instagram, my phone rings. It’s showing an international number, but I figure it has to be them. No one else would be calling me on Christmas Eve from an international number.
“Merry Christmas! How’s my favorite nibling enjoying the Caribbean?” I ask while propping my feet up on the coffee table. My new slippers to match the pajamas are shaped like the curly elf shoes and even include the jingle bells on the toes. I giggle at the noise while I wait for Jess to say something.
“Oh, Uncle J, I wish you were here,” they break into laughter almost immediately. “Mom and Dad got in a huge fight on like the first night because he found Mom going down on one of Santa’s helpers. Then Uncle Pete got kicked out of his room with Sheila, Sharon, Shelby – whatever her name is – because he was caught giving a blowie to the bartender in an alcove by the pool – giving, not getting.”
And yet somehow the guy who likes cartoons and playing with Legos is the bad influence. There’s no real mirth in my responding laugh, but Jess continues on.
“And then Gran got food poisoning after insisting on going to the seafood buffet ten minutes before they were supposed to close down for the day. I told her the crab legs smelled funny, but she wouldn’t listen to me. And did you know Pap gets severe motion sickness?”
Taking pleasure in my family’s suffering would surely be enough to get me onto the naughty list, but I can’t help it. Jess is so animated in telling me all about the ways that karma is coming back to bite all of them in the ass. So far, it seems like only the kids have been spared – which is only right. Suzy getting to ride a dolphin before they had to close the attraction when another one tried to molest Pete sounds like things are working out just like they should be. That little girl is obsessed with marine life. I wouldn’t be surprised if she grows up to be a marine biologist. Then again, she might end up working as a mermaid entertainer in a giant fish tank and be just as happy.
When the living room smart speaker stops playing Christmas music to remind me to start dinner, I tell Jess I have to go.
“Sweetheart, as much as I am loving this, I don’t want to rack up a bunch of charges on the phone bill. You know I would gladly pay anything for you or your sister and cousins, but your mom and grandmother will use this to justify demanding I pay their bill for them. I would rather not have to sell a kidney to pay for our chat”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” they tell me. “I bought one of those international e-sim cards at the airport. It was only like twenty-five dollars and has free calling and texting to the U.S. and it gives me like unlimited data while we’re here so it’s not a big deal. The data can be super slow at times, but Jamie and I made friends with one of the lifeguards on the ship who gave us the employee password to their Wi-Fi. As long as we limit it to social media, he said no one will even notice a couple of guest phones connected.”
After putting Peanut in his cushy alcove in the basement for the evening, I put the rack with the crab legs into the oven to warm back up. I boiled them earlier and had them on the rack in the fridge to keep them fresh and to get the excess water out of them. I could have just cooked them later, but then they get all squirty when you crack them open. While that’s a ton of fun and something I plan on taking full advantage of on one of our “Daddy and Little Johnny” dates, I’m hoping that tonight will be something a lot more grown up.
“I appreciate it, Squirt,” I say while popping open a jar of basic store brand alfredo sauce. “But you’re interfering with my culinary masterpiece over here.”
They snort and repeat what I just said to someone on their end of the call. Seconds later, I hear Jamie’s laughter and an assortment of giggles that must belong to Pete’s spawn. I love them all, but the boys are destructive little shits. Granted, they are children, but they should still know not to touch other people’s belongings without asking that person.
“Unky Shownny, you makin dinos?” Suzy pipes up in the background and I chuckle. Of course she thinks I’m making dino nuggies. It’s the only thing I've ever made for the kids. I only do it because her mother has this fucked up notion that all processed food is evil. So, I get the organic ground chicken breast and make homemade dino nuggies for her and her brother when I get the chance. All kids deserve dino nuggies.
Placing the phone on speaker and mounting it in the stand Dexter set up for me on the counter for when I want to follow a recipe I found online, I tell the kids my plans for a huge seafood feast for Christmas Eve dinner with my boyfriend. I get a chorus of giggles and squeals from the girls and Jess, but one of the boys pipes up with a question just as I put the shrimp in the pan of garlic and butter to cook up.
