Big Dump

Ages

I muss his hair, then smooth it and then muss it again. He gives me one of his growling stares, but I don’t mind and continue with my routine, obsessed with the feeling of his locks sliding between my fingers. He pouts now and jerks his head a bit, and I’m granted with an evil from-under-the-forehead look, but I know that I have all the power, for even though he is a vigorous lad, I can still pin him down whenever I want to.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and now he is growling, almost inaudibly, and I can’t help smiling. He’s like an angry kitten – all threats, no bites. I smooth his hair once more and then slide my palm up from the back of his neck, tugging at it lightly, manipulating it in any direction I want and annoying him thoroughly. His arms are crossed on his chest now and he stares at the TV. For a brief moment he looks down and sees Colin sitting on the floor, propped up against the couch and he pokes him in the ribs with his toe. Colin flashes him an annoyed look and Thom manages to smile, happy with some kind of release.

I shift into a more comfortable position, facing him rather than TV, and see him give me a sidelong look. I grin and let my finger slide over his smooth skin and prickly stubble, which is bordering with a beard now. He stiffens but doesn’t budge, knowing better. I enjoy the control I have over him and continue fingering his jaw line and neck, my eyes following my finger over his ginger-and-gray beard; I chuckle and he sighs uneasily, his eyes fixed on the screen, however I know that I’ve ruined it completely for him and he is not watching the film anymore.

He looks at me with that childish sulk of his, his whole being telling me to sod off, because he is “a grown man and a grown man is pissy sometimes, and a pissy grown man doesn’t need anybody to play with his hair and face, especially when it is done by somebody taller than him, and especially in the middle of the film.” I laugh soundlessly and he rolls his eyes and throws his feet to the floor to get up, but I wrap my arms around his small frame and pull him back, against my chest. He groans and I kiss his shoulder, sitting him on my lap and feigning interest in the screen, while he is still sulking and pouting, and cursing at me in his mind.

I place a gentle kiss to his temple and I swear I can sense the smell of milk.

“Thommy,” I whisper into his ear mockingly and he bites his lip to keep from smiling.