Rewarded
The safehouse wasn’t on any map—no guards at the gate. No cameras. Just forest, silence, and the quiet hum of wind through pine trees.
Luca hadn’t said a word since the car turned off the main road.
Now, curled in the passenger seat, he looked small again—bare feet tucked up on the leather, hoodie sleeves swallowed past his fingertips. He was holding his bunny as if it had all the answers. Marco parked the car. He didn’t rush. He just turned the key, then turned to him.
“Come here.”
Luca blinked slowly, like he was waking up from somewhere deep. “Are we…?”
“We’re alone,” Marco said softly. “Just you and me, baby.”
Luca climbed into his lap without hesitation.
His bunny came too. They sat like that for a long moment—breathing together, chests rising and falling in sync. Then Marco whispered against his hair: “You were perfect yesterday.”
Luca didn’t answer. Didn’t move. So Marco kept going. Gentle. Loving. A Daddy’s rhythm.
“You made the call. You gave the orders. You looked him in the eye and made him regret it. And you did it all without flinching.”
Still nothing. Marco kissed his temple.
“Are you proud of yourself, baby?”
That cracked it. Luca made a tiny noise in his throat—something between a sob and a whimper—and curled tighter against Marco’s chest.
“I don’t know if I’m allowed to be,” he whispered. “It felt so… cold. I felt like I disappeared.”
“You didn’t disappear,” Marco said. “You protected your family. That’s not cold. That’s brave.”
Luca shook his head. “I don’t want to be cold.”
“You’re not.” Marco pulled him closer. “You’re warm and brave and soft and clever and everything I love, all at once. And you were so, so good for me today.”
Luca shuddered.
“I brought you somewhere safe,” Marco murmured. “So you can come back. I’ve got your blankie in the bag. Your softest pajamas. Even your paci, if you want it.”
Luca didn’t speak. Just nodded into Marco’s hoodie.
A little while later…
The fire crackled in the stone hearth.
Luca was curled up on a thick blanket on the rug, in footie pajamas with tiny stars on them. His bunny was tucked under one arm. A warm bottle of milk rested in his lap, untouched.
Marco sat behind him, knees bracketing Luca’s hips, strong hands massaging the tension from his shoulders.
“You don’t have to think anymore tonight,” Marco whispered. “I’ll take care of everything. Just let go, baby.”
Luca made a sleepy noise and finally took a sip from the bottle.
Marco smiled.
“That’s it.”
He shifted slightly—kissed the top of Luca’s head, then pressed his lips to his cheek, then his neck, trailing warmth.
“You were so good today. I’m so proud of you.”
Luca squirmed a little. Blushed.
Marco pulled the bottle away gently and whispered in his ear:
“Good boys get kisses. Good boys get cuddles. Good boys get anything they want.”
Luca whimpered. “Can I stay little all night?”
“You don’t even have to ask.”
“Can I sleep with you?”
“You always sleep with me.”
Luca turned, half in Marco’s lap now, eyes glassy and soft.
“Will you hold me all night?”
Marco cupped his cheek, thumb stroking under one eye.
“I’ll never stop.”
Sunlight spilled through gauzy curtains, painting the safehouse bedroom in soft gold. The blankets were heavy and warm, still wrapped around Luca like a sleepy cocoon. His bunny was under one arm. His paci had fallen onto the pillow. And Marco…
Marco’s arms were around him.
Big. Solid. Bare.
Luca blinked up blearily, curls messy and warm against Marco’s chest, and let out the tiniest sigh.
Safe.
He was safe.
“You awake, baby?”
Marco’s voice was gravel and silk. Low in his chest. Still half-asleep but there—attuned to him in that unshakable Daddy way.
Luca nodded. Didn’t speak.
Marco nuzzled his hair. “Mm. Good morning, my brave little prince.”
Luca smiled sleepily. “Mornin’, Daddy.”
There was a kiss on the crown of his head. Then another, just behind his ear. And another, lingering longer, right at the base of his neck.
Luca squirmed a little.
“Tickles.”
Marco’s arm tightened around his waist. “You love it.”
Luca giggled. Blushed. Burrowed closer.
And then—
A press of hips.
A subtle shift.
Marco was still half-hard beneath the sheets. Not urgent. Not demanding. Just… there. Warm and heavy against Luca’s thigh.
Luca froze.
Just a second.
Then he peeked up at Marco through thick lashes. “Daddy?”
“Mm?”
“Are you…” He trailed off, face burning.
Marco just smiled.
Gentle. Knowing.
“You’re warm. Soft. Smell like sugar and stars. And you’re mine.” He kissed Luca’s cheek. “Course I am.”
Luca hid his face in Marco’s neck. “I’m too little for that…”
Marco hummed. “Too little for anything big. But not too little for kisses.”
“Kisses?”
Marco rolled slightly, pinning Luca beneath him—gently, thoroughly, protectively. His forearms bracketed Luca’s head, and his eyes were glowing.
“Can Daddy kiss his good boy everywhere?”
Luca squirmed, breath catching. “Y-Yeah. I think… I think that’s okay.”
“Just kisses,” Marco whispered, lowering his mouth to Luca’s neck. “Just love. Just mine.”
And it was just kisses. But they lingered.
At his collarbone.
At the hollow of his throat.
At the soft curve of his stomach, where Marco slipped the pajama top up and mouthed, “Perfect.”
Luca whimpered—safe and adored and wanted.
His hips bucked once, instinctive and shy, and Marco stilled him with a firm hand.
“Not yet,” he whispered. “Just let Daddy love you like this. Let yourself be spoiled.”
Luca moaned—quiet and high, almost like a whine. His little space was still wrapped around him, but it pulsed now with heat instead of fear.
“You’re glowing,” Marco murmured. “You’re so beautiful when you let go.”
“I wanna make you feel good too…”
“You do,” Marco said fiercely. “You do just by being you.”
And when Luca started to cry—because it was too much, too good, too soft—Marco hushed him with kisses to his cheeks, his lashes, his hands.
“You earned this. All of it.”
And Luca believed him.
Later that morning…
Luca was in the kitchen, wearing only Marco’s oversized hoodie and a pair of socks with bumblebees on them.
He sat on the counter, swinging his legs while Marco flipped pancakes.
“Can I have whipped cream on mine?”
“You can have whatever you want.”
Luca smiled around his paci. “You’re too nice to me.”
Marco turned, fork in one hand, syrup bottle in the other.
“No,” he said, deadly serious. “I’m exactly nice enough.”
When he set the plate in front of Luca, it had whipped cream, strawberries, chocolate chips—and a single gummy bear on top. Luca lit up like the sun.