Ascension - Book Eight - Man x Man

Extra- Easter Dinner (M)

( This is just an extra that didn't make it into the book. A fun little writing exercise to get me back in the grove! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it! ) 

"Boys are taking a nap." Verando yawns as he descends the stairs, looking particularly domestic in his dark-colored jeans and his button-up, collared shirt. I try not to allow my eyes to linger as he rolls the sleeves up to his elbows with precise, clean folds. 

I sigh appreciatively, closing the oven once more. "What a strange holiday. Did you ever celebrate it?" Turning, I move to the counter to work on chopping the potatoes. "I feel as though we had something like this but.. not quite with ham." Frankly, ham wasn't something my family often partook in. 

Considering this, he pulls his lips into a thin line at the scene of clutter on the counters and settles for handling the destruction rather than meddling in my cooking. "I've heard of it but Mama wasn't so much for rituals or religion. We certainly didn't decorate eggs or anything of that sort.." Eyeing the freshly painted eggs on the kitchen table, he rolls his eyes at the thought and I smirk over my shoulder at the gesture. 

"It's just for fun. I often forget that your childhood is a guaranteed mood killer." Watching the boys decorate the eggs had been the highlight of my day, much as their stained fingers seemed to bring him a great deal of discomfort. 

"Well we can't all grow up in a castle, now can we?" He retorts sarcastically, moving to the sink to start working on the copious dishes. A heaviness falls onto his shoulders as he tests the water. "It is odd, I must say.. this time period, that is. A luxury such as a 'nap'. I don't quite know how to take it at times. I'm glad the boys have you, this is something I could have never provided for them."

 The somber air of his tone causes me to pause. Resting the knife down, I turn to examine his shoulders, tracing the lines of his back through his shirt as I attempt to decipher his intentions.  

Tilting my head thoughtfully, I consider his point of view. "It is odd, but I like to think of it as a gift? They will never have to know the struggles of life as they might have lived in our time." I never know how to respond in the rare moments he confides in me about his childhood. He never wanted my sympathy yet at times it seemed quite necessary to reassure him. Truthfully, if they'd grown up in my family they would have known all the luxuries. 

This home didn't compare to my castle but it was nice, it was comfortable and safe, more than I could ask for given the current state of things and more importantly, it was more than he'd ever had until quite recently. Verando never wanted for my possessions, but it was no secret that he and his foster siblings had grown up with little to nothing.

Feeling like we were in need of salvation from his self-loathing, I grasp the spatula off the counter and smack him playfully across the ass. There was a time where it might have sent a rush of fear through me, playing in my head what my punishment might be. Now, the fear was replaced with a thrill of excitement as I hear him inhale sharply in surprise. 

My masochistic warlord. 

I quickly hide the spatula behind my back and flash him my most innocent of smiles as he turns to face me. "Are you going to pout all day or are you going to help me with dinner?" I attempt in my sweetest voice. 

Narrowing his eyes, he places his hands on either side of me on the counter, pursing his lips as he examines my expression for any hint of guilt. Lucky for me, I feel no fault over claiming what's mine. "You're quite bold for someone so small." He muses, reaching behind to snag the spatula.

 I quickly hold it out behind me to keep it from his grasp. Amusement grows on his expression for he's so much taller than me, I might as well have handed it to him. I feel him returning to me and know I'm on the right track.