Trust Me | MxM | BDSM

43. Atrocities

I'm dedicating this to White_Dragon19 - thank you for reading and voting and always devouring every new chapter! I remember seeing your name on my newsfeed for quite a while now.

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I'm leaning against the kitchen counter, forearms resting on it while I'm watching Gav stir that French onion soup that he's insisted on cooking. I don't know a damn thing about that, but he seems really good at it, at least judging by my limited experience with his creations and the smell that's filling the room. He delves a spoon into the dark fluid, only to poke it at my lips afterwards. I open up obediently, then moan at the heavenly taste.

Gav chuckles. "Is it good?"

"Way better," I say smiling contentedly, and he mirrors the expression. "Who taught you how to cook?"

"Guess I'm mainly self-taught, but I took some practical classes." He shrugs and returns his attention to the food. I'd half-expected a story about how his mother loves to cook, but since he's never talked about his parents before, I probably shouldn't have. Then again, he hasn't really told me much about himself or his past in the first place.

"Gav?" I ask quietly, regaining his attention. His brow creases slightly; he's got a knack for noticing when I'm uncomfortable. "I know I'm not one to talk, but you, uh, you never told me anything about yourself."

He rolls his eyes, poking my forehead with the spoon before laughing, shaking his head. "You had me worried again for a moment. What do you want to know? It's not like I've got anything to hide."

"Oh," I make very intelligently, quickly thinking about something. Gav's sigh interrupts me, though.

He now pokes my lower lip with his newfound weapon. "Don't bite your lip or this soup's going to be ruined because I'm too busy spanking you."

My body tenses at that, and I instinctively straighten my posture a little, already releasing my lip.

Gav nods. "So, what do you want to know?"

"Uh, parents?"

"Dead," he only says, then turns around to pull out a couple spices. So much for telling me about things.

"And?"

"Nothing."

I take a deep breath to prevent myself from groaning in annoyance, then notice the mischievous glint in his eyes and the way one corner of his lips is pulled up slightly.

"You know, if you want to spank me, just do it," I grumble, eliciting a laugh from him.

He waves his hand dismissively. "Sorry, nevermind. I couldn't resist. So, my parents, right?"

"Yep."

He scratches his chin, looking at the ceiling briefly. "My parents had an arranged marriage. Their fathers did business together, and their moms were pretty much in love with each other, so everyone thought it would be for the best. Mom didn't mind since she'd always had a crush on dad, but dad-"

His voice trails off and he shrugs. "You know, he was still young, he was a player, getting every girl he wanted and so on and so forth. The girl who was swooning over him and promised to him anyways wasn't really that interesting, so let's just say it wasn't a happy marriage and they never got around to working on it."

"And where do you come in?" I ask after a moment of silence, mainly because he's making it sound as if he has nothing to do with that story. He raises his eyebrows, giving me that look that asks if I'm a bit slow on the uptake. I roll my eyes at him. "I'm not asking how your existence came to be, just- well- I guess how it was for you?"