Unspoken - 3. Waterpark

The kitchen was framed by music just loud enough to hear as counterpoint to the arrhythmic sounds of food. Bacon sizzling, fridge compressor running, pancakes flipping, and the dial on the toaster oven ticking down.

I happily danced to the beat of the music as I cooked, hoping that the smell of bacon would produce results. Nicolo was always a heavy sleeper, and though alarms did work, I didn’t want to jar him awake. Little Bryce almost never slept past 6am, even on weekends, though I figured a bit of sleep-in was inevitable considering the previous night slash early morning.

Plating some bacon and pancakes before starting more, I took a moment to set three places at the island for when we’d sit down to eat. I paused long enough to admit o myself that I forgot to check the garage and the kitchen in my search last night. No harm done but I need to remember to be more thorough.

Seconds later a thunderous cocophany was heard as what could only be Nicolo’s footsteps almost ran down the stairs. He entered the kitchen in just his sleep shorts with Bryce, also still in just his undies, draped across his back. Bryce was laughing in joy as he was jerked around from the inertia of Nicolo’s jerky movements, and they came skidding to a stop just short of me, as I turned to give them a mock glare that quickly turned into a smile. Nicolo leant over - farther than he normally would - so that Bryce could give me a good morning kiss on the cheek, along with a smiley but sleepy ‘morning dad!’
After depositing a yawning Bryce on the counter, which earned another mocking glare, Nicolo bent himself down to me for his own good morning kiss. Obviously I kissed him back, as I was always happy to see him in the mornings. We couldn’t deepen it, as Bryce was rolling his eyes at us in jest. I think it’s good for him to see others expressing love. He never saw enough of it in his earlier years. Despite keeping our sexual interchanges solidly behind closed - and locked - doors, we were a very casual house, and needless to say Nicolo was, *ahem* showing. I gave it a quick look, and then a smirk to Nicolo, before giving him a little push upright. I deftly flipped the last pancake, plated the last of the bacon, and pulled out juice for all of us. Pulling the toast competed the breakfast plates. I gave Bryce a sideways glance, and raised a single eyebrow. He answered my unasked question with a small nod. I gave him my own small nod in reply, and lifted him down from the island so he could scurry to the other side for breakfast. I shook my head at him. Sometimes I wish.... No, I shook the thought from my head. Despite being smaller than the average thirteen year old, he was still getting too big for some things. He’s shot up the last year, so much that I can’t piggyback him anymore, being only four inches taller than his four foot eight. Luckily his papà was a solid six-six, so he could still get rides whenever he wants. As we sat down to eat, Nicolo spoke before chowing down.

“You sleep well, midge?” I rolled my eyes and kicked at his shin as I sat down myself. I think he will forever call me ‘midge’ as a playful mocking of my height. I once asked him why ‘midge’ instead of ‘midget’ and his laughing reply was “you’re too short for the whole word!” That was the beginning of him getting a playful kick whenever he calls me that.

I nodded back to him, giving his shoulder a quick rub. There wasn’t much sound as we ate, but both Nicolo and I knew that Bryce would start talking up a storm about whatever subject caught his attention as soon as he was full. He was always quieter with me but chatty with Nicolo. It was understandable. My methods of communication had no chance in hell of keeping up with an excited child. Eventually their conversation wound down - apparently some big event had happened on Bryce’s favorite cartoon - and Nicolo was asking what the plans for today were.

I slipped my phone out of my pocket, flicking my fingers over the screen to bring up the calendar. Empty. Wait, empty? It was rare that we didn’t have anything planned for a Saturday, and I slapped Nicolo on his arm, shoving the phone in his face to share the news. He stared at it in shock himself for half a second, before leaning over to whisper a single word in my ear: “waterpark?”

I nodded enthusiastically. I loved the water and I loved to swim. We all did really; it was one of the things all three of us really got into. Nicolo turned back to Bryce and asked if he wanted to go to Waterworld. Bryce dropped the fork he was still using to play with the small pieces of pancake still on his plate, and rushed off to get ready without saying a word.

Nicolo pulled my face to his, giving me a tongue kiss, before pushing me right off my chair. My arms flailed ineffectually to his laughter as I flopped right to the floor. “You go get ready bello, I’ll take care of the dishes.” Climbing to my feet unharmed I slapped his ass as he stood, before rushing off to change and pack.

I passed by Bryce’s room, to see him almost buried in a drawer. I knocked the frame, and when he looked up, I pointed to his bathroom. He squeaked out an “okay!” and ignored his open drawer to rush into the bathroom. Seconds later his shower started running. I rolled my eyes. Love this boy but as excitable as he is he forgets where he puts things. I slid the open drawer shut, and slid another one open to pull out this summer’s swimsuit of choice. I tossed it on his bed before continuing on to our room. In our own room it took seconds to pull out a swimsuit for me and one for Nicolo. I also pulled out clothes for me to wear over the swimsuit, and grabbed the sunblock, tossing that on the bed as well before hopping in the shower myself.

I was interrupted in the middle of washing my hair by a blunt object stabbing me in the back. I’d heard him enter, of course, and I’d heard - and felt! - the shower door open and then close. I should have expected this. I managed to rinse the shampoo out so I wouldn’t get any in my eyes before he manhandled me into position and had his dirty way with me. Let’s just say I didn’t complain. My behind was pleasantly sore the rest of the day.

After we were (finally!) clean, I joyously tripped his ass as we reentered the bedroom. He glared at me from the floor, and I gave him a shit-eating smirk that screamed revenge for pushing me off the chair earlier. He laughed as he got up, and we both slid on our small swimsuits before getting dressed. When we got back downstairs Bryce was waiting impatiently on the couch, swinging his legs, three towels sitting next to him.

We bundled off into Nicolo’s Cherokee - we always eschewed my small MX-5 whenever I wasn’t driving - and off to the waterpark we went.

The waterpark was surprisingly less busy than we expected for a Saturday in summer. After we took off our clothes to reveal our swimsuits, we were liberal with the sunblock. I tapped Bryce on the shoulder, and gave him a questioning look. He rolled his eyes at me. “I know, dad. Stay with papà. If we get separated we can both find him easy in a crowd.” He huffed and crossed his arms, sulking at me. “You don’t have to tell me this every single time we go anywhere.”

“Bryce!” He flinched as Nicolo scolded. “Do not snap at your dad. You remember the one time we got split up just as much we do. You wanna go through that again?”

The first time we came here, last summer, Bryce, still being new to us, didn’t listen and a crowd broke us up. Being short as hell I can’t see shit, and though Nicolo is tall as hell, even with me on his broad shoulders we couldn’t find him quickly. The lifeguards found him over an hour later hiding in the bushes crying. It was not an incident any of us wanted to repeat. Bryce’s arms dropped to his side and his shoulders slumped. “No papà, I don’t. You’re right that was scary.” I put a hand on his shoulder, and we nodded to each-other. I wasn’t going to let this small occurrence ruin our day, and neither was Nicolo.

I’m sure Bryce and I looked more like brothers than father and son. Being small and with my genetic anomaly I didn’t look anywhere near my age, and the matching purple swimsuits probably didn’t help. It’s lucky that I’ve been wearing brief swimsuits my entire life, or the sight of Nicolo in all his Italian glory in his own red brief suit would have me unable to do anything! I know many people were giving us weird looks - speedos are still rare in the US - but more often were looks of desire for my big lovable bastard. All I could think to myself was muahahahaha you can’t have him he’s all mine!

We went on all the slides, including the megadrop that Bryce was too scared to do last year. We had to play balancing games on the raft, as myself and Bryce together probably still didn’t equal Nicolo. We took turns riding with each-other on the tube slides, and the new watercoaster that could seat three was intense! Bryce was having the time of his life. Even if I gave two shits about what other people thought of our swimsuit preferences, his smile and laughter would have made it all worth it.

Even with all the running around we did, he was still wired come 5 o’clock when we made out way out of the park. He was chattering away to Nicolo about everything we did. When we got to the Jeep, Bryce stopped me before we climbed into it. “Dad, I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I know you just want to keep me safe.” I pulled him into a tight hug, and he hugged me back. A muffled “I love you” made it’s way to my ears, and I nodded onto his shoulder. We let go and climbed in the car.

“That was an awesome day, right boys?” Nicolo asked as we started moving. “Yeah!” Bryce called out, a small fist in the air. “Thanks for bringing me here papà, thanks dad!” I turned to look back, and with a bit of dexterity, pressed the tip of a finger to his chest. He smiled back. “Well,” Nicolo spoke up, almost in a sing song, “I think for being man enough to apologize for his mistakes, we should take our piccolo to a movie. You agree, bello?” I made a great show of being thoughtful, for all of thirty five seconds or so as the “please pleeease pleeeeeeease!” pleading of Bryce filled the car. “Please dad! I wanna see the Sonic movie!” I nodded my consent. It was hard to deny Bryce when we was this excited. And he *had* apologized without being told.

So, off to the movies we went. When we arrived home after a long day, it was a trial to get him to eat and take a quick shower before passing out in his bed. We took a shower ourselves before following suit. What did take me somewhat aback, was waking up at three a.m. again, and doing a search, finding Bryce exactly as I had the night before.