My Home Is With You [LGBT+]

Nineteen

MY HEART RACES as Max casually walks inside the room. We've slept in the same room before, when I was hospitalized, but the bed was a bit too small for the both of us to lay comfortably. Now we're sharing a single bed, more than comfortable for the both of us. And still, I find that we gravitate towards each other.

"You tired?" He asks quietly, voice soft and the timber soothing.

"A bit," I nod, trying to smother a yawn with little to no success.

But the effort makes him smile, something sweet and sleepy, hands subconsciously reaching out to me and pulling me closer to his warmth.

I don't resist, not when he's so comfortable and warm. So, I lay my head on his broad chest without a thought. My ear pressed against his chest and my thoughts drowning in the lub-dub sound of his beating heart.

"How do you feel my baby boy?" He asks eventually, hand running up and down my back soothingly, mindful of how sensitive I've become with the burn marks still marring my skin.

And there it is again.

That nickname reserved just for me. It makes me feel warm. I'm almost embarrassed, but it feels so good to be his baby.

Maybe it's the sleep.

Or maybe it's the softness of the question, the nonchalant way he calls me his and baby boy.

Or maybe my brain to mouth filter is malfunctioning again because I don't find anything wrong when I answer, "I'm fine daddy."

And it's only when the silence stretches for a bit too long to be comfortable that my sleep addled mind catches up with what I said.

My face heats up.

It's like the words are stuck on replay in my brain.

Hoping that the silence means he either didn't hear or he's already fast asleep, I try to shimmy out of his tight, yet gentle, grasp. As if I'm simply turning in my own sleep.

But the silence is broken with the clearing of a throat.

And I'm still too mortified to speak.

I don't want to see his weirded out and disgusted reaction.

"Never thought those words would turn me on," he whispers hoarsely.

I'm a bit flabbergasted at that.

It takes my mind another second to register before I'm burying my face in his chest to hide, "Please don't lie. Be honest, it's weird, I know it is."

His chuckle is low and throaty, amusement he can't quite hide bleeding through.

"This is what we both signed up for," and I can hear the grin in his voice, "you're my baby."

My breath hitches in my throat as I feel my lower region take interest. I feel kind of dirty and I finally break free from his hold, turning around so he doesn't feel the aching hardness between my legs pressed against his thigh.

His arm slings around my waist, his lips pressing against the curve of my ear. His warm breath is ticklish as he whispers, "You don't believe me?"

A noise I have never made before escapes my lip to confirm that I do not in fact believe him.

But it all ends when his arm pulls me back, my back pressed to his chest, our bodies lined together, and I feel it.

I feel his hard cock pressing against my pert ass and a soft gasp escapes my lips.

"Not disgusting. I can't say that I don't find it sexy, after all, I want to take care of you however you let me baby boy. I want to make you feel good if you want that too."

"Oh god," I moan.

"This is what you do to me baby," he whispers huskily, "You drive me mad."

"I'm sorry," I squeak out.

He buries his face into my neck before pressing a kiss to a burn mark on my shoulder.

"Hurts," I hiss.

I can feel his smile falter before he orders, "Sit up baby."

I do as I am told, biting my lip to prevent anything else to escape without my consent.

I see Max reach for the prescribed mupirocin ointment. He uncaps the tube and begins to methodically rub the soothing balm on the nastier stinging burns on my body.

"Sorry," he mumbles with a small frown.

"You didn't hurt me on purpose. We both know it'll take time before I heal," I whisper, "give it a few weeks."

"I hate seeing you in pain," he mutters.

My heart skips a beat and I force him to stop so I can turn around to face him, "and I hate seeing you sad."

I reach out and cup his cheek in my palm. His scruff tickles my exposed fingertips as I pull him closer and peck his lips.

I can see he's struggling to hold something back. I don't know what, but the words are on the tip of his tongue.

"I..." he pauses, thinking about what to really say, "I need you to tell me what you like, what you want from me. If you have anything you want to try, you want to experience and explore. Tell me."

My face turns an embarrassed shade of maroon red.

"I don't know," I answer honestly, voice a bit shaky, "I've never had sex like this before. Never really thought of what I'd like."

"We'll take it slow. We'll learn together, our likes and dislikes. We'll go as slow as you want. Right now, right now let me focus on you."

Biting my lip and a bit hesitant, I mumble a quiet, "Thank you for taking care of me... daddy."

His smile returns, brighter and more at ease.

"Come 'ere baby boy."