Chosen Boy [7] bxb Bdsm

Sixteen

I left the groceries in the car and knocked.  Honestly, I felt like I was screwed either way.  He was expecting me but it wasn't a 'kneel in the Den' night and after last week it just seemed safer.  I didn't want to risk just walking in.

He opened the door before long, looking perplexed.  "Hello Chris."

"Hello Sir." And then I had no words.  "I um, brought the groceries."

"Ah, you'd like some help.  Of course."  He stepped forward and I stepped back to give him room.

No, that really wasn't what I'd been after but he didn't seem mad about the knocking so I let it go.  It was much better of him to offer than to shut the door in my face. I had two good arms though, there was no reason for him to carry anything so I picked up the heavy bag and left the light one for him.  And then, once I'd set my bag down on the counter inside, I realized what his delay in answering me had been about last night.  Yes, I'd helped him in the kitchen before.  I'd even made breakfast once while he watched but a whole meal?  It seemed daunting.  I was going to need things that he didn't know about and have laid out for me ahead of time.  I needed to be careful.  He sat his bag down and sat in the stool, watching me.

"I just need a big skillet" I said, pointing to the cupboard where they were stored.  He nodded quickly and I grabbed it out, setting it on the burner.  "Can opener?" I asked, repeating our game of me pointing to let him know that I knew where he kept it and him nodding permission.  It was silly but working and that was good enough.  I'd decided on a Southwest chicken dish and hoped he'd like it.  "It's better with fresh tomatoes but I thought easiest was best for tonight.  I hope that's okay Sir."

"It's fine.  I've been eating crap so any vegetable that isn't deep fried will be an improvement."

"I got fresh cilantro so hopefully that will help freshen it up.  Do you like black beans Sir?" Beans were off-limits to some people and I didn't remember ever seeing him eat them. Shit.

"I do."  He was watching me pull the rest of the supplies out of my large bag.  "It looks like it will be quite good."

Well his mood had certainly improved over last week.  "I hope so Sir.  When I made it with Mike we had to roast the peppers and tomatoes but he said it would be fine if I made shortcuts.   It was good to learn to do those things though."  Learning to cook was a life skill that I didn't know how I'd gotten this far without.  If I'd had the chance to go back, I wouldn't have taken dinners at home for granted now that I knew how much work they were.  I should have watched and helped my mom and learned this stuff.  At least I knew now, thanks to Greg.  "Thanks for my lessons Sir."

"You seem to be eating better."

"I am.  I have to admit that I'm still lazy and eat out too much but at least now I CAN cook dinner at home, and I try to do it at least once a week.  I make more breakfasts than dinners; I'm a whiz at eggs now."  It felt so nice to relax and just TALK.  I was nervous though and probably talking enough for both of us. As much as I hated to admit it, maybe I'd needed a little break too.  Obviously he'd needed a huge one but I guess I'd been a bit burnt out as well. 

"What's in the other bag?" he asked.

"Oh, just an idea I had.  I wasn't sure how you'd be feeling or what you'd want to do but I thought you might enjoy a new puzzle."

"A puzzle?"

"Yeah.  I figure it's one of the few things you can do one-handed.  I don't know, I just thought..."

He actually looked at me then and I was the one to turn away.  "That was very considerate."

"I know you might be in the middle of one or not want to do it but..."

"Pet?"

"Yes Sir?"  I finally forced myself to look back but he didn't look mad.  I smiled.

"Thank you.  We will begin working on it after dinner."

I just nodded and turned back to the stove, turning the burner down just a tad as the liquid came to a rolling boil.  "It'll only be about ten minutes."  Shit, he hated approximations.  "Ten minutes Sir.  Would you like something to drink?"

"I'll handle those, it seems the least I can do.  I have a story, although I'm not sure it will be amusing."

"I'd love to hear it Sir."  A story?  He never talked about anything with me except for a few times that I could probably count on one hand.

"I went for a check-up yesterday to have my facial stitches looked at and see if I would need a referral to a plastic surgeon.  The RN told me that it was healing up nicely but that I shouldn't smile too much.  I didn't get the joke and she explained that she had been joking and that it was safe to do so.  I replied that I didn't do jokes or smiling due to being autistic.  I was trying to be funny but she didn't get mine either.  She just looked embarrassed."  His presentation wasn't great but when he shrugged I had to try not to laugh.  "I tried.  It rarely works out for me though."

"But it IS funny Sir, I mean to me anyway.  I'm glad you tried just so that you could tell me the story."  And it really was, because I could imagine it.  I could see him stone-faced telling the poor nurse that he never smiled and her eyes getting wide.  It was funny.  "I'm going to plate these up and let them rest two minutes.  Would you like cheese on yours Sir?"

"Of course." He got up to get the drinks.  "Over dinner we need to talk about tomorrow.  About the wedding."