“I don’t like soup.” I sounded like a little complaining that I didn’t want all my food mixed up in broth…but I didn’t want all my food mixed up in broth.
“That’s good to know?” Dante frowned at the takeout container I was holding like he was expecting it to jump out of my hands. “I know that’s probably related to something I should understand, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He really needed to pay more attention to everything else not related to Professor Winslow, his new little and partner.
“I’m getting soup delivered.” Holding up the brown paper bag, I set it on the small table by the stairs. “It’s making me insane. How have you missed this?”
He was the one who’d thought being a Secret Santa was a good way to get Ruslan’s attention, but I was being punished with soup. “Are you torturing me?”
He had to have had a hand in this nonsense.
This was more like a threat than a Secret Santa, though.
“I can confidently say ‘not it.’” Leaning against the stair railing, he finally looked like he was paying attention to what I’d been saying. “Who have you pissed off lately?”
Numerous people.
I wasn’t going to list them all off, though.
“Someone is having soup delivered to me about every two days. It honestly varies but it’s always soup and most of it comes with notes like ‘hope this improves your mood,’ so yeah, I’ve pissed someone off.” Me at the very least…especially because I was eating most of it.
Free food was free food even if it was soup…and the dining halls were basically closed for the next couple of weeks for winter break, so I had to fend for myself or go home.
Soup was the best option.
“I need it to stop or to give them another food to fuck with me about.” There had to be a way to convince whoever it was that I hated pasta or steak.
“Have you asked the restaurants delivering the food who sent it?” Somehow the normally smart guy was a moron…or thought I was a moron.
“Yes, but they’re playing dumb.” The guy at the door had insinuated that he’d been well-bribed to play dumb. “And since they’ve already been paid in cash, they have no reason to help me.”
It seemed like my tormenter tipped very well.
Dante blinked, clearly not sure what to say to the chaos driving me crazy. “Who knows you don’t like soup? I’m not even sure I knew you don’t like soup.”
He knew everything about everyone on campus so that wasn’t possible. It wasn’t even like he was a gossip. People just told him random things and he ended up knowing all about everything going on.
“I don’t know.” That was a damned good question. “I don’t remember talking about it with anyone lately.”
Mostly because it sounded ridiculous.
Who randomly announced they didn’t like soup?
“Soup?” Cocking his head, Dante finally realized how strange it was. “I guess it’s a good way to fuck with you, then. But we’re back to who have you pissed off lately?”
“I’m not making a list that long.” People were easily offended. “But I’d say with most of them it’s been mild irritation, not soup level of pissed off.”
The holiday season sucked.
“I don’t know what to say, but we can help you eat the soup if that’s the problem?” Even as distracted as he was by his new relationship with Ruslan, he was generally a good roommate. But I wasn’t sure if that was a helpful suggestion or not. “The guys or Ruslan would like it.”
Not helpful.
“I’d actually like it to stop.” Someone was spending entirely too much money on the ridiculousness and they’d made their point. I was a dick. Got it. “But yes, one of you guys needs to start eating the soup. I’ll trade for other options…baked goods or non-soup dinners are preferable.”
Hell, I’d eat the mac-n-cheese that Ruslan was so passionate about.
I wasn’t going to be picky at this point as long as it wasn’t a soup, stew, or chowder.
Clam chowder was disgusting and like eating chewy snot.
Stew was the least offensive, so I’d obviously only gotten that once.
“Your life is weird.” Taking a deep breath, Dante shifted back to his thoughtful Dom taking charge expression.
Most of the time it pissed me off because I was just as much of a Dom as he was, but as long as he got the soup to stop, I’d ignore it.
“You’re going to have to sit down and make a list of people you’ve pissed off or situations where someone has gotten bitter. Like…take revenge bitter, not the hot kind of angry.” Digging out his phone, Dante sighed as he looked at the screen. “I have to go, but we’re coming back to this because I don’t know if this is stalker behavior or if someone is just fucking with you because you were a pain in the ass.”
It could go either way, so I shrugged. “To my knowledge I’ve never had a stalker, but I’m not discounting the theory.”
Did people get those because they’d pissed someone off?
“You really are a pain in the ass.” Shaking his head, he wrapped one arm around my neck and pulled me into his chest. He laughed as he rubbed his knuckles against my head just to make me crazy as I tried to get away without actually hurting him. “Be happy. Classes are over. You have time off. That fucking paper is done and you got an A.”
“Let me go, asshole.” Pushing him back got a laugh from him as he released me and bounded toward the front door, full Daddy-mode engaged. “Be nice or I’ll get your boy glitter for Christmas.”
I’d overheard him and one of his other little buddies talking about how they could get some unsuspecting sucker to give them glitter for Christmas. Glitter was evil but they weren’t my littles, so I didn’t have to tattle on them.
I could, however, buy them glittery chaos.
Oh, or something even better.
Ha.
Pushing my Christmas chaos plan to the side for the moment, I picked up my newest delivery and sighed as I took it into the kitchen. It was from a small restaurant on the other side of campus that specialized in healthy things that tasted healthy.
Half their menu was incredibly healthy and my tormenter had spent a lot of time picking out different kinds of lentil and bean soups for me over the past two weeks. He’d carefully worked his way around everything there that tasted good, so I knew it’d been deliberate.
His level of commitment to my torment was actually impressive.
“Why couldn’t it have been the stew people again?” That at least had chunks of meat in it. “That delivery guy isn’t bad looking either.”
Another delivery and he’d have given me his number.
“What are you doing?” Gary looked up from where he was meal prepping something at the stove and gave me a look like he thought I had a screw loose.
Great. He’d heard me talking to myself.
“God, more soup?” Walking away from whatever he’d been cooking, he frowned at the bag before taking it from me. “What are you doing?”
Did he think I was doing this to myself?
They were all morons.
“It’s some kind of torture-by-soup method of making sure I know I was a dick.” They’d proven their point. “It’s been going on for three weeks. Why would I be doing this to myself? I hate soup.”
“I know.” Gary didn’t give opening up the bag a second thought. “You don’t even like my chili. I make great chili.”
“I eat it when you do that chili mac stuff and when you put it on potatoes.” He really did make good chili as long as it wasn’t in a bowl with too much liquid making everything swim around. “You do a great job with that.”
Oh.
“Hey, why don’t you make the chili mac when Dante finally brings…whatever we’re calling him over for an official dinner to introduce him to everyone?” The fact that Dante’s boyfriend was one of the professors at the college was messing with me.
Calling him professor didn’t work in social situations where we wanted him to be able to color and tell us about his toys. It would make him think he had to be a grown-up and that wasn’t the tone we wanted.
Hell, even I wasn’t that big of a dick.
Gary snickered as he pulled out whatever monstrosity I’d been given. “You need to practice seeing him as Dante’s sub and boyfriend. Ignore the you know him from work kind of vibe. Think of the friend kind of stuff you know about him. He likes mac-n-cheese. He’s got to like playing in some way. He’s probably a chatty little since he’s so grown-up at work.”
Yeah, a lot of the professors treated work like we were in a circus but he always did his best to be professional.
“Good point.” I could do it. “What do you think about going out later this week and picking out something for him for Christmas and some kind of welcome gift for when we eventually get to hang out with him?”
Nodding, Gary brought my takeout torture over to the stove, not understanding that the white container held more lentils. “Something fun so he knows we’re good with him being little. I was thinking about doing a Christmas dinner before everyone left for home?”
We could do that.
“That sounds good, but I haven’t been a dick to him, so I don’t need to apologize.” He was one of the only people on campus I’d been careful to keep my crappy mood away from. “So we know he’s not the one sending me soup.”
Barely holding back laugher, Gary shrugged. “He seems like he could hold a grudge, so you might want to be careful.”
It couldn’t personally get worse than soup, but I didn’t want to fuck with Dante’s relationship either. “Noted.”
I could fake it for short periods.
“You don’t mind if I help you make this edible, right?” Gary looked up from studying whatever soup was in the container and laughed at whatever he saw on my face. “I don’t even know why I asked.”
Me neither.
“You’re polite?” I could fake being a functional human for him too, so I sat down at the table and tried to shove back my attitude. “And you’re a good cook who likes tinkering in the kitchen?”
He barked out a laugh, probably not believing my change in attitude for a second. “You think I’m a sucker.”
“I think you’re nice and you like to see the best in people. You also don’t like seeing a hungry college student punished when he doesn’t know what he did.” Someone was very frustrated with me and very creative.
“Okay, I like that one, so I’ll help you.” Mumbling to himself about something that seemed to be related to my food, I watched as he grabbed a small pot and poured…yep, more lentils into it. “I can work with this.”
Hopefully.
“I would appreciate it.” The little beans themselves weren’t bad but there was so much broth. “With the dining hall closed, I’m not willing to throw it away.”
Gary glanced over at me and rolled his eyes as he scooped something from his big pot into the little one. “And you’re feeling bad about the money too. I know you, asshole.”
Fine.
Just because I grew up without having to worry about money didn’t mean everyone else was in the same situation.
“I’m going to feel even worse if they’re living in their car because I was a dick.” It didn’t feel like that was right, but worries weren’t rational.
“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t heard of anyone on campus in that kind of situation.” Gary seemed confident about that, and he would know because he’d spent the past year working in the admissions and housing offices. “We’ve got a few people we’re watching but no one in that position.”
Good.
“Okay, then I’m going to assume pissed off and at the very least saved up enough money to fuck with me.” Maybe it was their Christmas gift to themself? “This is getting ridiculous, though.”
Chuckling, Gary nodded. “Yeah, considering how often you’ve had soup lately, I’d say so.”
Duh.
“How are you going to figure out who you need to apologize to?” Gary grinned as I groaned, but he kept tinkering with my food, so I wasn’t going to be an ass about it.
“Maybe I can try to narrow it down since most people aren’t on campus?” I’d clearly been attacking this from the wrong angle considering the bark of laughter he let out. “What would you do?”
As he magically produced some kind of beans and rice meal from the soup he’d started with, Gary shrugged. “I’d start with figuring out who knew you’d be home to accept a delivery.”
Huh?
Fuck.
