Chapter 4

(Dion)

Cashing in that Raincheck

"There is no way you're planning on wearing that to the club tonight," Bella declared as she paused in the doorway in stripped short-shorts and crop top that showed off her butterfly bellybutton ring.

Her hair was in two colorful ponytails high on the sides of her head, curtesy of Angel, the whole look modeled after the Harley Quinn comics that had always been her favorites. The day he'd splattered grape juice on one had ushered in the scariest week of his childhood after she'd vowed vengeance and turned him into the most paranoid kid on the block.

In the end, making him think she intended harm to one of his prized possessions had been the best vengeance of all, as he'd going to some Loony Tune-esque lengths to protect his things. She, however, had gone about each day with a whirlwind level of energy, soaking up every moment of summer fun while he'd skulked close to home, intent on catching her making mischief.

"You are correct, I do not plan to wear this to the club tonight," Dion replied.

"Oh my god, hurry up and get dressed so we can go!" Bella urged.

"I am dressed."

She sputtered at that, eyes widening as she raked them over him.

"I'm dressed for how I intend to spend my evening," Dion said as he located the remote and cued up The Golden Girls.

"Explain," she demanded, arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe, purple-stripped sock covered foot tapping a beat on the floor. "'Cause I thought we were spending our evening together."

"Sis, I hate to tell you this, but it seems like this time you thought wrong," Dion explained before gesturing down at himself. "I didn't put this on to go clubbing. I put it on to get in this bed and get comfortable."

As if to punctuate his words, Dion slid beneath the sheets, plumped the pillow, then sighed contently as he laid his head on all that softness.

"What? Why! Benny's is having a Pina Colada Parade and I plan to be the grand marshal."

"No one is stopping you ," Dion declared. " I'm just bowing out while simultaneously passing on the opportunity to help you stagger back home."

"See, now there you go sounding like Old Man Dion again."

"Perhaps, but Old Man Dion has a signed raincheck that he's planning to cash in tonight while you're trolling for precocious pina colada partners you can entice into random acts of debauchery."

"Says the guys with plans for his own bout of debauchery," Bella said, eyes going wide as she stared down the hall.

Dion couldn't see what she saw, but her outrage gave him a good idea, especially when she stamped her foot and pointed.

"And here comes debauchery now," Bella declared, rolling her eyes at him. "How did I not see this coming?"

"I don't know, did you forget to put your contacts in again? You need to stop that before your vision gets worse. Now please let the Angel of Debauchery pass. You go have a wonderful time with the Pina Colada Parade. Take lots of selfies and try not to fall off the bar this time if you decide to dance on it. You do not rock bruises well."

Jaw dropping, she sputtered while he smirked.

"Have fun and say hi to Billy for me," Angel said. "Get him to walk you home at the end of the night, too, even if you've got a second escort."

"Fine…but the three of us are going out tomorrow night, no backing out, I won't hear of it. I'll drag you to the club in PJs if I must, but we will be going. That is a mandatory part of the marathon. By day we binge, by night we infringe."

"And right now you can go infringe for all of us," Dion said, "but don't forget to do as Angel said and have Billy walk you back here."

"You know I'll find out about it if you don't and we'll both be pissed," Angel chimed in.

"Oh hell no, you are not teaming up with my brother to gang up on me!"

"That is exactly what I'm doing," Angel declared. "Now go have a good time. I promise we will all head down to Benny's tomorrow night for whatever flavor of the evening he concocts. I'll even let you pick my outfit."

"I will not let you pick mine," Dion declared, wanting to make that clear right from the jump, before she got it in her head that he should rock an aqua studded leather harness again. Comfy as it had been, there had been way too much bling involved for his tastes, like slipping a bedazzled sweater a rottweiler. Even looking in the mirror he'd been uncertain of whether he'd come off as fierce, or in need of petting and pity.

Though if it would get Angel's hands on him or lead the man to glue himself to Dion's side, he'd volunteer to wear it again in a heartbeat.

She narrowed her eyes at him and blew a raspberry like when she was five, "Spoilsport."

"Always, now go on while there's still a chance at us seeing some of this episode."

Snorting, she shook her head and finally let Angel pass. "The only thing you'll be looking at is naked skin so don't even pretend like you'll see ten minutes worth of the entire program block."

"Fair enough," Dion said, "though if The Days and Nights of Sophia Petrillo come on, we may have to pause activities to watch."

"You pause in the middle of the wrong thing, and there will be no unpausing."

Dion shot him a look of mock-outrage. "Now don't be like that."

Angel tisked. "Try me."

Narrowed eyes, pursed lips, hands on his hips with one hip cocked, yeah, Angel was serious. Dion wasn't about to test the waters and try him on it, either.

"I'll be going now," Bella said. "Try to keep the kink confined to the bedroom, please. I do not need to come home to see someone's naked ass tied spread eagle on top of the dryer."

The specifics of that threw Dion into silence, while Angel giggled and cocked an eyebrow at him. "I know where she keeps the bungee cords and zip ties too, might be fun to try and reenact the moment."

"Angel…" Bella growled, pointing a finger at him.

"Just sayin'. You're the one who brought it up."

"And now you're gonna tell me the rest of the story once she's gone." Dion growled, a slow smile creasing his lips as he watched the tip of Angel's tongue poke from between his lips as he shivered.

His eyes drifted to half-mast too. Hell yeah. That was worth exploring.

"Keep it up and you two will be banned from playing together," Bella warned.

"Yes, mom," they singsonged as they waved goodbye.

She flipped them off on her way out, high heeled boots tapping a sharp beat as she sauntered up the hall, a giggling Angel right behind her. He turned into the kitchen, flipped the light on and started rummaging in the fridge, judging from the sound of things, while Dion rolled over, stretched and turned the volume up a little.

"We've got drinks, we've got snacks, and I believe you have a little slip of paper you'd like to cash in tonight?" Angel said as he placed a colorful tray laden with treats on top of the chest at the foot of the bed.

"I do, indeed."

"May I see it please?" Angel said with that teasy-flirty smirk of his. "I've got to make sure it's authentic. Counterfeiters these days will copy anything, you know. Especially something as valuable as a raincheck for a night of unbridled bliss."

"Isn't that a conflict of interests, being the one to authenticate what you wrote?" Dion asked as he picked it up off the top of the dresser and held the raincheck out to him.

"Only if I really did write it," Angel snarked. "That's what I need to make sure of. If it is my handwriting on the back of that bar tab, then I'll have to honor its promise."

"And if it's not your handwriting, how did you know it's on a bar tab?" Dion shot back.

Angel froze, scrunched up his nose, then turned his attention from Dion, to scrutinizing the paper.

"Uh-huh, you just keep on pretending you didn't hear that," Dion said as he snagged a grape and a cube of cheese off the tray on his way back to his side of the bed.

"It uh-looks legit to me," Angel said with a little cough before slipping the paper in the drawer of the nightstand on his side of the bed.

"Hey, I was planning to keep that." Dion protested, wanting to tuck it away in the chest of mementoes he kept on the shelf in the closet.

"Keeping it is the opposite of cashing it in," Angel explained. "So, what's it gonna be?"

Dion froze at hearing that, wondering what game Angel was up to now and how he was going to counter the smooth n' slippery man's antics before Angel outmaneuvered him again.

"Okay, say I do cash it in," Dion hedged, carefully testing the waters. "What happens to the physical slip of paper after I give it back to you?"

"I keep it until it's time for another raincheck," Angel declared without pause. He clearly had it all figured out then.

"Fair enough. But tomorrow I'm using a piece of that lamination paper we bought this afternoon to make sure it survives the exchanges."

"Sounds like you're planning for this to be a long-lasting game."

"You don't mind, do you?" Dion asked as he locked eyes with him. "After all, if I'm gonna be the Lord of Lattes for years and years to come, I should get something for my troubles."

Of course Angel, that shit, placed a finger on his cheek and stood there pretending to be deep in thought. "Well, now that depends."

"On."

"Just how growly-sexy that voice of yours gets when we're having fun."

"Liked that, didn't you?" Dion asked, deliberately adding an extra bit of brass to his voice.

"Couldn't you tell."

"Oh, I could tell, especially when the tip of your tongue poked from between your lips and all I could think about was…"

Clop clop clop clop clop

Dion rolled over to see Bella racing up the hall like her wig was on fire.

"Don't mind me," Bella huffed as she rushed past the doorway and disappeared down the hall.

"What'd you forget this time?" Dion asked. "ID, bankcard, or money."

"Screw you and all three."

Laughing, Dion turned his head to see Angel smack a hand to his forehead and double over, giggling.

"Every time," Angel muttered. "Every damn time."

"I know, right?" Dion remarked. "She's been doing that since we were kids. We'd be halfway down the block before she realized that she'd forgotten her house key, or her library card, or bus pass. Pops was constantly complaining about her wearing the hinges off the front door with how many times she ran out then came sprinting back inside to get the car keys after she'd gotten her driver's license."

"Quit telling stories about me."

"You wouldn't hear me telling stories about you if you didn't forget things," Dion pointed out.

"I promise to make it worth your while if you don't quit telling stories about her," Angel offered.

"Sold!" Dion declared as Bella stomped back out into the night.

"Normally, I'd say we'd better be wary in the morning, but if it's Pina Colada night, there is no way that she'll be up before we are."

"Especially not when someone has Lord of Lattes duties to perform."

"As long as you're still making omelets, I will happily retrieve your breakfast sundae."

"Ha. Ha. Ha."

Even with the overhead light off, there was more than enough glow from the television and the lamps on the end table, for Dion to study Angel as he slid into bed beside him. From the first time he'd laid eyes on him over a video feed, Dion had been stricken with curiosity. From the top of his curly hair to the stripped, calf length socks he wore in winter, there had been something captivating about Angel. The perfect marriage of snark and whimsy with an unbridled air of commanded that easily captivated a room.

Every time Angel had spoken up during their planning session, it was with something well thought out and innovative. He and Bella fed off one another's ideas and there had been a few times when Dion was forced to rein them in while the plan was still feasible. Their excitement about the splash pad was infectious and had left Dion with wistful thoughts about their childhood and how amazing it would have been to have one on a hot summer day.

"I've fantasized about this since the first time I saw you pop up on Bella's video feed."

"How did you know I wasn't an asshole she'd wind up kicking out of her life?" Angel asked as he got comfortable.

"The way she talked about you," Dion admitted as he danced fingertips up his arm. "And the fact that you were sprawled on her couch eating spicy pickles right out of the pouch. She doesn't trust just anyone to eat in her living room."

"Don't I know it. Tiny is forever relegated to the kitchen table after his elbow caught a plate of shrimp creole and upended it on that cream-colored Berber shag she had down when she first moved in here."

Dion winced at that, intimately familiar with the struggle of getting tomato-based sauces out of cream colored anything.

"He's lucky he's not eating on the stoop after that," Dion said. "That's what happened to my old man when he spilled red wine all over the antique lace tablecloth Pops had laid out. It didn't help that it stained the white seat cushions of the chair set The Old Man had vehemently voiced his displeasure about. Not practical had been the way The Old Man described them. He'd sworn up and down that they'd be gross and stained up inside of a week and it wound up taking less than seventy-two hours. Pops still claims that the old man did it on purpose to protest the color and impromptu dinner party Pops had decided to throw that the old man claimed to know nothing about.

"So how'd it all play out?"

"The Old Man spent the dinner party on the porch, the meal was served without wine, or a tablecloth covering the table, and the table had two odd chairs at each end, since Pops felt that having one mismatched piece was sure to stand out."

"While two makes it look like it was on purpose."

"Yup," Dion said. "First thing Monday morning Pops took the chairs to the upholster and The Old Man spent the rest of the next week eating out of pie tins on the porch swing until Pops got over being pissed at him."

"Sounds like they have an interesting relationship."

"Interesting, awesome, I couldn't imagine a better childhood than the one we had growing up, which made the choice to come back here easier, especially when I factored you into the equation."

"So, it was your plan to get me in your bed?"

"Technically, this is my sister's guest bed which you've slept in way more than me. I dare say you might sleep in it enough that we can consider this your bed, in which case maybe I should be calling your motives into question? As for my plan, it mostly just involved getting to know you outside of being my sister's best friend."

"Would you have felt that way about anyone else if they'd started popping up in her videos too?"

"I don't know, that didn't happen. You were the one with her when she came out, you were there through her transition, and you've been by her side as she fought to maintain the place in the drag community that she'd already carved out for herself beforehand. You were the one I always chatted with when she ducked away from the camera to go get ready and when it dawned on me that coming back here to become the official event planner for Chili-Pops also meant getting to spend a ton of time with you, well, I already knew the kind of person you were. That was all I needed to see that you were someone special."

"Well, in the instance of fairness and reciprocity, I should probably admit that I quizzed her about you in between fantasizing about you, especially when she told me how much you like to be called Daddy, though I hope you don't mind that I prefer using Papi instead."

He popped the p and dragged out the ahhhh until Dion's dick took notice and he snaked an arm across Angel's hips, hauled him flush, and nibbled his shoulder and the back of his neck.

"Papi huh, you wanna call me papi? And what do I get to call you?"

"Angel," Angel declared.

"What about My Angel," Dion asked. "Or Angel Baby?"

"I'll be Angel Baby if you'll be Ol'Man Papi." Angel replied, winking at him.

"And My Angel it is."

"I knew you'd see things my way."