Language 101

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***Gavin's POV***

"почему ты так долго." I ask Alexei as he walks into the kitchen with Oupa. He rubs the back of his head. He seems hurried and apologetic. 

Alexei stares at me intently. He gives me a beautiful smile that I drink in. Then, he tilts his head to the side, questioningly.

"Did I say it wrong? Sorry. I asked what took so long. I thought I got that one." I deflate. I am not any good at this.

Smack!

"What was that for?" Alexei asks his Oupa. He shrinks back when Oupa glares at him. "What was that for, Sir." He corrects.

"When your boy asks a question, you answer. Don't be rude. I taught you to be a better daddy than that." Oupa chastises my boyfriend.

I giggle.

"I apologize. No, my heart. You did not get it wrong. You did perfect. Always perfect." Alexei promises me. He rushes to my side to affectionately run his fingers through my hair.

My eyes flutter shut while he praises me. This is why I let him lead me. He knows exactly what I need.

"That's sweet. Good job, my boy. Now help." Oupa claps his hands quickly, moving everyone at one time with his command.

"Thank you, my king." Babushka openly praises her husband. 

My mouth tries to drop open. Realizing it would be disrespectful, I focus on keeping it shut. Is this where Alexei gets it?

"May I help you? Tell me what you need." Oupa moves to Babushka's side. She slides the chopping board in front of him. He immediately begins chopping the meat into small chunks.

"You must give them instruction. You must allow them to worship you." Babushka whispers to me. 

"Да, мадам." I nod my head in appreciation for her direction.

Alexei taught me how to say the most respectful terms in Russian. It was our first lesson. He explained how important it was to reverence our elders. I worked tirelessly to learn the correct pronunciation for yes ma'am, among other terms, knowing I would need to say it to his Mama and Babushka. I did not want to be anything outside of respectful. His family is important to him. They are important to me.

"Alexei, show him. Prepare the dough." Alexei's Mama points between us, giving him a command.

Alexei crooks his finger towards me. I step away from the kitchen island. I follow him to the fridge. He hands me a worn sheet of paper that is stained with oil. The script looks faded. The paper has obviously been folded and unfolded many times over the years.

"Will you read the directions to me, love? I will show you how to do it." Alexei softly requests.

I nod my head eagerly. The idea of cooking with him makes my skin flame. I can feel the heat touch my cheeks.

"Use the stove." Papa yells above the chattering in the kitchen.

Alexei gives his papa a nod of acknowledgement.

"We need to heat the milk." I start with the first line. "I think we need a thermometer. It says 120-130 degrees." 

"There is a specific one we use. It is in the drawer to the left. It has a clip on it. It looks like a meat thermometer, but it is smaller. Grab that, please." Alexei gives me detailed instructions.

I grab the correct tool while glancing over the next few steps. We need a lot of ingredients.

"Here." I hand the gadget to Alexei while I search the room. I need to find a bowl.

"Let Mama help you, sweetie. I will place everything over there. You stick with Alexei." Mama gently presses her petite hand against the small of my back. She pushes me back towards the stove. I breathe a sigh of relief.

"They like you. Alot." Alexei whispers next to my ear while watching the temperature of the milk rise.

"I hope I don't mess this up." I worry. I don't know whether I am describing my relationship with him, his family or the food we are attempting to cook. I feel like I have waged a bet that is too expensive to lose.

"Impossible." Alexei places a soft kiss upon my neck, relaxing my stiff spine immediately.

"When the milk is hot, we have to bloom the yeast?" I state questioningly. I have no idea what that even means though.

"Don't worry. I have made this once or twice." Alexei promises with a wink. I glare at him. 

Why doesn't he just cook for me, then?

"You have a dirty habit of holding out on me." I accuse playfully.

Alexei chuckles deeply before accepting my accusation.  I swat his side with my hand. I wonder what else he has been keeping from me. 

Alexei talks me through the yeast activation. I have to add sugar and active dry yeast into the milk. I set a timer. We need to wait for it to bubble.

Alexei plucks a kiss from my lips while the bubbles are forming in the milk. He cages me against the island. I pull him closer, slotting my own lips with his. He slips his arms around my back, deepening the kiss until my breath is rushing into his mouth. My mind goes blank as he slides his tongue in and out of my mouth. A small hum of delight vibrates from my throat. I savor his touch.

Our alarm goes off causing us to separate immediately with a jump. I momentarily had forgotten we were supposed to be doing something. I scan the paper to see what step we were on.

"Butter, salt, eggs." I rush out. 

A burst of laughter from behind me causes me to blush deeply.

A storm of chatter starts up. I do not understand the majority of it as Russian words are passed back and forth between Mama and Babushka. I hear them cooing, bringing me to the conclusion that they are probably gushing over me and Alexei.

"They said you are good for me. Mama said she thinks you look like an angel. Babushka says you may be love bitten." Alexei translates for me with a smirk.

I may combust from embarrassment.

"I think I need to use the restroom." I lie so I can get out of the hot seat.

"Come right back." Alexei warns knowingly.

I nod while walking away. I rush to the bathroom. I close the door, locking it immediately.

Looking in the mirror, I see that I am red. My skin is flushed. Sweat is beading on my flesh. I look happy but I am a mess. 

I run cool water over my face. I try to fix my hair, so I do not look so windblown. It is no use. It looks like I have been running a marathon.

Giving up, I decide I cannot hide in here much longer. I close my eyes, breathe in deeply and accept my fate. I head back towards the danger zone.

"Just in time." Alexei praises as I slip back into my spot beside him.

"Why is that?" I ask cautiously.

"It's time to knead the dough." Alexei points to the sticky mixture in the bowl.

He pours it out onto a floured counter. Alexei rubs flour on both of his hands before grabbing my hands and covering them just as well. He wraps his arms around my body and puts our intwined hands on top of the ball of dough.

Alexei pushes the dough forward before dragging it back. I can feel his chest push against my back every time he presses the dough out. I try to feel his heart beating through my back. He squeezes our hands, picking up the dough and rotating it. He drops it again, before repeating the process.

"This is fun." I admit huskily. It's turning me on.

"Yes, I agree." Alexei pushes the dough away again; this time he presses me against the island. His cock brushes against my ass.

"How long do we do this?" I ask hopefully.

"You will know when you are ready." Mama innocently interjects.

I stifle a giggle into my arm.

Alexei pushes the dough out once again; he stretches his arms even further forward. I find myself completely bent over in front of him. I covertly shimmy my ass against his crotch.

Two can play at this game.

"My joy. Be careful." Alexei whispers against the shell of my ear.

Without heeding his warning, I repeat my assault over and over as he moves our hands backwards and forward. Alexei growls against my ear each time we move forward. I can feel his steel length throbbing behind me.

"Having fun?" Papa asks behind his back. He is busy washing dishes in front of us.

"So. Much. Fun." I struggle through the rising arousal between Alexei and myself.

"Last round.  Make it count. You have to really work at it." Oupa winks at me while giving us very stern instructions.

I may cum in my pants.

"What's the next step?" I ask hesitantly. I cannot handle much more. I need to get out of this kitchen. I need to get away from him.

"Rest." Alexei punctuates his instruction while pushing his groin deeply into my clothed bottom. I gasp trying not to moan. My body shudders with desire.

"Go, enjoy yourself. We will join soon." Babushka interjects. She shoos us away from the counter.

The laughter bubble ups without warning. I practically exhale my guffaw. She could not possibly mean that.  

Alexei slides his hand over my mouth, warning me in my ear. He drags me to the sink where he rinses our hands in haste. Suddenly, I am wrapped around his chest like a sleepy toddler, and he is whisking us out of the kitchen.

He carries us to the same porch where we often sit to talk after eating dinner. I sigh in relief when the cool wind rushes around us, easing the heat on my warmed skin. Alexei sits down on the porch swing with me still attached to him.

"You did so good, my heart." Alexei whispers above my head. He gently presses his kiss to my crown.

I shake my head quickly. I do not feel the same. I feel overwhelmed.

"I was moaning. My dick was hard. In front of them." I embarrassingly admit.

"I meant with my family, cooking, language." Alexei breathes out the clarification.

"Did they realize they were encouraging you?" I deadpan.

Alexei's chest rumbles causing my body to vibrate with his laughter. He runs his palms up and down my back. I hide my face in his neck.

"Papa was innocent, for sure. Mama was really trying to help. Oupa had intent. I have my theory on Babushka." Alexei shares.

"I have a question." I hesitantly inform him.

"Anything. I will answer anything for you." Alexei blindly promises. He plunders my hair with his hands.

"Is your grandparent's relationship." I pause. "Is it like ours?" I quietly ask.

"разные, но одинаковые." Babushka replies proudly.

I whip my head to the side to see all of them rejoining us. My skin burns in chagrin. I didn't mean for them to hear me prying.

"Милая любимая, кожа пламени, его любовь согревает тебя." Babushka talks over me. Alexei rubs my back mindlessly while I try to decipher the words that bounce all around me.

It is difficult to keep up with what is being said. My frustration starts to grow as I realize I am the center of a conversation; yet I cannot join. I really need to learn this language sooner rather than later.

"Petal. He cannot understand. You must explain." Oupa admonishes Babushka with a soft brush of his fingers against her lips. As she stares at him, you can see the appreciation swirling in her eyes. 

"Простите меня, forgive me." Babushka requests of Oupa. He captures her lips in a kiss that makes my heart feel warm. Their love is timeless. Witnessing the exchange seems intrusive. 

"Dear beloved, skin of flames, his love warms you." Babushka translates for me. 

I acknowledge her poetic observation with a grateful smile. She is very affectionate with her words, much like her grandson. Although, she is a tad off the mark, it's his touch that sets me ablaze.

"To answer your question about our relationship it is different, but the same." Oupa smiles fondly at his wife. "It is my teaching that you should openly reverence and cherish your beloved. We do not hide affections in this family. We would not want you to hide yours either."

"I believe he was referring to our directional relationship." Alexei explains to Oupa with an inviting glance.

"Do not mix words. Open. We are always forthcoming." Oupa chastises Alexei, eliciting an apology from Alexei's lips.

"Alexei and I. Well. I trust him to give me everything I need. Sometimes, that includes punishments. He demands respect and has a specific set of rules for my behavior. So, I noticed similarities in the way you interact with Babushka. I wondered if you may have influenced him. You said you taught him how to be a daddy. He's, my daddy. I was trying to connect the dots. Um. I am sorry if this is disrespectful or oversharing. That's not my intention. I was curious. Really, I was trying to learn more about him. Then, I observed you. Just don't answer me. I shouldn't have asked. I apologize." I rush out the words, trying not to offend the most important people in my boyfriend's life. Feeling very self-conscious, I seek refuge in Alexei's chest. He squeezes me gently while kissing my head again.

"I'm sorry." I frantically whisper into Alexei's chest. I tuck myself into his embrace, trying to shrink away so I can be invisible. I do not desire this type of attention. I want to disappear.

"Do you intend to be a part of this family?" Alexei's papa asks me. The question takes me off guard. I turn to look at him knowing that I must be in flames once again. Surely, I am about to be on the receiving end of an uncomfortable correction.

I tried to be on my best behavior.

I wait to answer. Time goes by while my anxiety peaks. I can feel my heartbeats getting closer together. I really need to learn to be quiet. There is a time and place for everything. I should have asked when we were actually alone. I wish I could take it back.

"Gavin, you were asked a question. I think now is a good time to speak." Alexei gently reminds me. I can sense his growing impatience. I do not want to piss him off today. I don't want to lose sexy time tonight. 

I was being so good.

Gathering up my courage to face this tragedy head on, I accept my fate.

"My intention is to be with Alexei." I qualify.

"That is not what was asked." Alexei reprimands me sternly. A shiver runs through my spine. 

Goodbye to you, dick touches. Until we meet again.

"If Alexei decides to keep me, after this, I do intend to be a part of your family." I finally admit. "If you let me." I whisper the last part with fading hope.

If there is a merciful god out there, shine your favor upon me.

"Good. Then we will instill this little lesson." Oupa warns me. My anxiety shoots through the roof. I am beginning to feel nauseated.

"You did nothing wrong. Alexei comfort him. He looks like he is going to get sick." Alexei's mama urges her son. 

Alexei immediately looks at me with worried eyes. I try to smile reassuredly but, my stomach lurches. I have to cover my mouth with my hand. Thankfully, it is a dry heave.

"я тебя люблю. я тебя люблю. My heart. Calm down." Alexei wipes the sweat from my cheeks with the back of his hands. His eyes flicker around my face for assurance. I nod while trying to follow his instruction.

"I was about to explain that you are allowed to ask any question you want. You are family now. Do not shy away from your curiosity. We are not ashamed of our love language in this family. Oupa would be happy to address your concern. You only had to ask. Would you be interested in the answer?" Papa calms my rolling waves of nerves with his clarification.

"Yes, please." I agree. I am still curious. If they say we can talk openly, I want to do so.

"Good boy. Now, Alexei expressed interest in my relationship with his grandmother early on. I would say he was nearing his mid-teens. We have always had an open relationship. I knew questions would arise." Oupa begins. I sit up straight to give him my full attention.

"I spent countless nights teaching him how to respect his beloved. As he got older and more observant, he witnessed discipline between the two of us. Naturally, he was intrigued." Oupa smiles at me knowingly. I have to stifle an embarrassed giggle.

"Having only one side of the equation in hand would be irresponsible. So, I balanced it out. Of course, I spoke with Babushka and even Viktor and Hannah before I began. We all agreed that if he wanted to follow my relationship structure, he would need complete transparency." Oupa's honesty makes my nerves settle. Unfortunately, the thought of this family accepting me so entirely lets butterflies loose in my belly.

"I learned how to speak, to listen, to cherish, to encourage and finally I learned how to gain trust. All of that came before I was allowed to explore what a disciplined relationship even meant. Often, I still call upon both Papa and Oupa to help me explore options and provide me with valuable tools to help take care of you in all of the ways that are necessary." Alexei's words make me want to kiss his entire face. He learns for me in ways that I would never imagine possible.

"Any more questions?" Papa asks of me.

"Two?" I hold my fingers up to show them.

"Go ahead." Alexei encourages.

"When do we eat the Piroshki? I'm very hungry." My stomach growls loudly causing everyone to jump to their feet.

We head to the kitchen. I attentively listen as they instruct me on how to properly set the table. Alexei pulls food from the oven before setting it onto plates and bringing it to the table. He stares at me with so much adoration; I have to focus on the conversation to keep from finding myself in his arms again.

"Ready." Alexei announces. He pulls my chair out for me. I watch as Papa and Oupa do the same for the love in their life. I feel overwhelmed with the position I have suddenly taken. It is so much more than a seat at a table or even a day spent in their conversation. I have been invited to be familial. I recognize the honor.

As the food is passed around, I fill my plate and smile at these people who are so welcoming. The conversation starts back up, Russian and English intertwining much like the way my life was weaving with theirs. I fill my stomach while they fill my heart.

"You had another question." Oupa directs towards me.

Remembering that I had forgot to ask, I nod in acknowledgement.

"What is the English translation for я тебя люблю?" I ask out of concern.

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