This had to be the first time in his entire life that he wasn’t looking forward to Christmas morning. He’d taken his gift for Sandro from under the tree and hidden it under his bed.
Any other year, he’d have gotten up early to see his presents, but this time Christmas morning felt different. He only rose from bed because he couldn’t sleep anyway, and determination drove him to seek answers.
It was chilly in the house, so he put on a hoodie over his pajamas with a polar bear pattern, and he walked downstairs with the determination of an ice breaker. Even the prospect of passing the creepy bathroom wouldn’t stop him. He ran past its half-open door without as much as a glance inside.
Sandro had left the Christmas lights on in the living room, so Kevin was welcomed by a warm glow in the otherwise dark house. Dawn was barely breaking, but Kevin had no time to sit around in the armchair and watch the changing scenery outside.
He bit back a yelp when he stepped onto the broken bauble, cutting his foot open. “Fucking fuck,” he whispered and took a second to pull the shards out of his flesh, but even though he was now limping, he walked down the corridor that ultimately led him to the white door behind which Sandro held his secrets.
Kevin pressed on the handle, but as expected, the door was locked. He touched the wood, searching for hidden weaknesses but found nothing. So he kneeled, trying to peek under the door, but the opening there was barely enough to slide an envelope through. He huffed in frustration and put his eye against the keyhole.
A faint green light flashed in the corner of his eye now and then, but that was that.
Kevin sat back on his heels, at loss over what else he could do.
“What are you doing?” Sandro’s voice was cold as steel and made Kevin stiffen.
He swallowed and looked over his shoulder at the man who’d become his whole world. Sandro only wore pajama pants, which was painfully distracting after two weeks of not seeing him at all, but it was the bruises on his shoulder and stomach that captured all of Kevin’s attention.
“Did Roberto do that to you?” Kevin asked, scrambling to his feet, but winced when pain reminded him of the injury to his sole.
Sandro crossed his arms on his chest. “Answer my question, Kevin.”
Kevin could play this game too, so he mirrored Sandro’s body language. “You know what I was doing if you were standing behind me this whole time! I don’t think it’s fair that you won’t tell me what’s in there. I do everything you ask, and you can’t give me this one small thing? It’s okay if it’s your man pad or whatever and you don’t want me there, but you should tell me.”
Sandro frowned. “Oh. I should? What else should I do, Kevin? Because I think I should re-establish some ground rules. I told you when we were making our arrangement, I told you upfront that this area is off bounds for you. Go to my room, get the belt, and I will see you in the living room.”
Kevin’s head exploded with heat as if Sandro had put a chilli pepper straight into Kevin’s brain. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he yelled and pushed at Sandro’s chest, though it hardly made the wall of muscle budge. “You’re late for Christmas, your friend assaults me, and now I’m supposed to be punished for a minor transgression?”
Sandro took a deep breath and rubbed his face. “An infraction is an infraction. You agreed to these rules. But if this isn’t the kind of relationship you want to participate in anymore, then… you’re free to leave. I just thought we were much more compatible than that.”
Kevin’s heart sank, and the floor seemed to tremble under his feet, about to crumble and send him into a free fall to the pits of hell. “Daddy… no. That’s not it,” he whined, angry when tears stung his eyes again. “I… I’ll get the belt.”
He ran off before Sandro could have said anything else, but his anger bled all over the floor. Would it really be so easy for Sandro to let go of what they had because he didn’t like Kevin snooping? His heart broke into a million pieces before he even reached Sandro’s bedroom, the one they slept in together whenever Sandro was here.
He hadn’t been punished since the start of this arrangement—not counting a couple of gentle slaps on the ass for minor shit he teased Sandro about like putting cream in a carbonara, or being too lazy to go jogging with Sandro when it rained.
If Kevin chose to stand his ground and got himself kicked out, he’d still be leaving with about half a million, but his distress wasn’t about the money. He didn’t want to leave this little paradise where he lived with a man who understood his needs so well and was always eager to spoil him.