Chapter Nineteen: Anson

“ S o…” Vince corners me in the hospital cafeteria three days after Christmas, sliding his tray onto the table in front of mine as he drops into the seat across from me. His dark eyes glint with curiosity, a little humor, and concern.

It’s the same kind of look Drake gave me when we finally parted ways after returning from the mountains, and it makes my heart squeeze with longing.

I push my cafeteria stir-fry around with my plastic spork listlessly. “So?”

“Dude. Are you really going to leave me hanging? How was—” Vince lowers his voice and glances around furtively, as though anyone is going to be listening in over the noise of fifty other conversations, kids crying, and people coughing. “— everything ?”

I sigh and abandon my meal, not really interested in eating it. After three and a half days of Daddy’s cooking, I’ve been spoiled, and nothing else seems appealing. Vince frowns down at my plate, but I answer him with a despondent, “Incredible.”

Distracted by my answer, my best friend smiles and cocks his head. “Yeah? All of it?”

“All of it,” I agree, finally smiling at my recent memories. “I’m so a Little, Vin. Like…a little Little. Like…pacis, diapers, baby-talk…” I breathe in deeply and then let my shoulders sag as I let the air out again. “Drake was —is— amazing. He tried to give me every possible experience I could have wanted in just a few days.” Huffing, I slump in my chair and fold my arms, “And all I gave him was a pair of socks that say ‘save a horse’ on one foot and ‘ride a bear’ on the other.”

Vince snorts and grabs a fry off his plate, biting it in half and waving it around as he says, “Pretty sure you also gave him a weekend of perfect Daddy time, too.”

I eye him suspiciously. “That’s what he said. Have you talked to him?”

I wouldn’t put it past my far-too-protective best friend to follow up on the conversation he’d had with Drake that first night. Sure enough, Vince averts his gaze and shifts in his seat.

“Vin…what did you do?”

“I just wanted to make sure that he was okay, too,” he admits, popping another fry into his mouth. “I know we haven’t been close or anything, but it wasn’t hard to see that he was lonely. And then a few days spent trapped in a cabin with you driving him crazy—”

“Hey!” I protest, but I’m starting to grin now. “I’ll have you know, I was the perfect Boy. I was on my best behavior.”

“So he said,” Vince agrees, but he arches an eyebrow at me and then pushes his plate in my direction. I snag a few fries and stuff them into my mouth, much preferring the unhealthy, deep-fried food over the mess of vegetables, rice and oyster sauce on my plate. “You didn’t want to be even a little bit bratty? I mean, I know you, man. My money would be on cute brat over angel baby any day of the week.”

“I can be both,” I insist, snagging a few more fries and munching happily. Through a mouthful, I add, “I like being his good boy, too.”

My best friend’s mouth twitches underneath his own beard, and complete with the dad bod, I can see far too many similarities between him and Drake. But, I swear, I’ve never had a thing for Vince. He’s my brother from another mother, and even if I sometimes read taboo romance novels, I couldn’t ever see my BFF in a romantic or sexual light. Eww .

“Yeah, well,” Vince says, shaking those disturbing comparisons away, “you should talk to him about exploring your…uh…naughtier side, too. I think he’d enjoy the challenge.”

“At the moment, trying to work out when we’ll see each other next is challenge enough.” And now I’m back to pouting. “Stupid work. I hate it.”

“You do not,” Vince chides and grabs for his burger. He takes my plastic knife and then butchers his burger into two ragged halves. Taking a bite out of one, he says, “you love your job. The kids are your life.”

Yeah, until I have to tell their parents that the results from their bloodwork wasn’t promising and that they need to find a pediatric oncologist…

“Sometimes,” I reply instead, pushing the pain and sadness from this morning’s meeting away. Vince deals with enough trauma in Emergency and doesn’t need me piling on top of it. “But right now I wish I was working a normal nine-to-five job so I could make plans to see my boyfriend regularly.”

Dark eyebrows drawing down as his eyes line with sympathy, Vince agrees, “Yeah, okay, I get that. Having Bear move in with me made that part a whole lot easier to deal with.”

“As fast as my relationship with Drake has developed, I don’t think suggesting that we move in after three days together will go down well.”

“I don’t know…he sounds pretty smitten.”

“Smitten?” I blink across the table at him. “Who says ‘smitten’ these days?”

His cheeks color and he pushes the other half of the burger towards me. “Just shut up and eat.”

Chuckling, I do as he says, but his words and the unspoken implication follow me around for the rest of the day. Maybe moving in would be too much, too soon, but who’s to say I can’t suggest regular alternating sleepovers?

* * *

Stepping into The Little Community Center always makes me smile. Founded by a former cop who is also a lifestyle Daddy, the whole function of this place is to provide support to anyone in the kink community who needs it. They run information sessions, buddy programs, charity auctions, counseling sessions, pro-bono legal assistance and so much more.

The main space is a bright room set up like a giant living room, with couches and beanbags and coffee tables all inviting and welcoming. There are also adult-sized tables and chairs set out with toys and coloring activities, too. Charlie, the founder, and his husband (and Little), Asher, have put a lot of effort into creating an age play friendly space which is not situated in a kink club. It’s like a midway point, for people who aren’t comfortable going to a club, but who still want to interact with others in the lifestyle.

“Well, hello stranger,” Ash greets me as I stride across the main room towards the little reception desk. He gets up from the desk, his mess of floppy curls flying around his face as he shuffles paperwork into a neat pile, then walks out of the little room to greet me properly. “We haven’t seen you in ages.”

Asher is a true lifestyle Little. He’s about my height, if a bit shorter, with what my mother would have called a ‘swimmer’s build’. He was the first person I met here when I came looking for a bit more personalized information than the internet could provide, and I find his bright, bubbly outlook contagious.

I feel a stab of guilt for not having visited much since I switched over to visiting The Grove once I was ready to properly explore my interest in the lifestyle. I’ve seen Charlie and Asher at The Grove’s Littles’ Nights, but it’s not quite the same as sitting and talking in a quiet space.

“Sorry,” I apologize sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck.

Asher shakes his head emphatically. “Oh, no, don’t be. I get what it’s like to be busy with life. Plus, with your job, I’m betting you don’t get much downtime.” He cocks his head, his hazel eyes sparkling. “So…what brings you back today?”

This is the point where I shrug and squirm a little, because I honestly don’t know why I came here. I just felt the pull and went with it.

Allowing my gaze to flit around the main room again, I smile as I take in the Christmas decorations which are still proudly on display. “Need help taking the tree down and getting ready for New Years?” I ask in lieu of answering his question.

“You did not drive halfway across the city just to offer to help me redecorate,” he replies and leans against the window to the office. “Especially when you know I have a bevy of Daddies at my beck and call.”

“You have one Daddy, little lamb,” Charlie’s deep, authoritative tone corrects as he steps out from his own office and closes the distance between himself and his husband. He kisses Asher on top of his mop of curls and adds, “and your Uncles spoil you.”

Ash just grins at that. “That’s ’cause their Littles love me, and they want to keep ’em all happy.”

Charlie sighs. “Well, I can’t argue with that.” He turns his attention to me and smiles, sticking out his hand for me to shake, which I do. “It’s good to see you, Anson.” His expression morphs into one of sympathy. “I was sorry to hear that things with Tanner didn’t work out.”

I blink. God, my relationship with Tanner feels like it was eons ago, and not only a month or so. I’d feel guilty for almost forgetting about it, except we were never serious. In fact, whatever feelings I’d had for the cute Little pale in comparison to the deep, intense attachment I’ve formed for Drake.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” I find myself stammering. “But, uh, we’re both good. We weren’t compatible, and we were better off ending things early than forcing it.”

Charlie nods and gestures back towards the main space. “Want a coffee?”

I screw up my nose. “Cocoa?”

“Oooh, great idea!” Asher turns pleading eyes on Charlie. “Please, Daddy?”

“If you spoil your dinner, you’re getting corner time.”

I watch their conversation with a smile on my face, but it makes my heart squeeze. I miss Drake so badly. He hasn’t called me since we’ve been back in the city. I mean, we’ve texted a bit, and he arranged to have my car fixed for me, but our schedules have been out of whack, and I know he’s been super busy getting back into the swing of running his business. Still, I don’t know if I should call him, or if I should give him more time, or—

“You okay?” Asher’s question shakes me from my spiraling thoughts and I’m surprised to find that I followed them over to the comfy couches near the coffee station. He tugs me down onto the soft seat of my favorite big, orange couch, and tells Charlie to make my drink, too, silencing my protests when I attempt to say I can do it myself. “Seriously, Anson, what’s up? I doubt you came here just to drink all our cocoa.”

“I guess…I don’t know. I think…I think I wanted to talk to someone?”

I’d been ready to drive my ass over to Drake’s bakery to talk about the revelations I’d had at lunch time, but I didn’t have a clue what to say to him. Then I’d driven myself here instead.

“I think…I mean, I talked to Vince at lunch, but he’s hardly an unbiased third party, so…”

“You’re going to have to back up a bit,” Charlie interrupts as he hands me a steaming mug of instant cocoa. I sip at it and try not to make a face. It’s nowhere near as good as the stuff Drake spoiled me with over Christmas. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh!” Ash bounces in his seat beside me, the contents of his own mug sloshing dangerously. “Have you met someone new? Another Little?”

“Your constant matchmaking worries me,” Charlie sighs at him, then looks at me expectantly. “But is that it?”

I chuckle before carefully setting my mug down on the table beside the arm of the couch. “I met someone, yeah. Well, I mean, I already knew him.” I huff and wonder, momentarily, why I’m so scared to say this out loud. I’ve already told Vince, and he’s the only person whose opinion really matters to me. But these are the guys who basically introduced me to the lifestyle. They answered all of my questions and were right there with me when I said I thought I was a Daddy. My cheeks flame, and I duck my chin to confess, “But he’s a Daddy…and I’m, um, not. A Daddy, I mean.”

At my side, Asher gasps loudly. “ Really? Does that mean you’re a Boy? A Sub?”

I exhale with a whoosh of relieved air, no longer feeling as panicky now that the truth is out there. “Yeah. A Little, actually.” I swallow and glance at Charlie, feeling oddly shy before I smile at Asher. “ So Little. Like, um, pacis and… stuff .”

He thrusts his mug towards his husband and then launches at me, squeezing me in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you! And, oh , Daddy!” He turns to look at Charlie, still not releasing me from his hold, “I get a new friend for playdates!”

“Maybe let him breathe and ask him if he’s comfortable with that, first?” Charlie smiles indulgently. Then, while Asher hurries to apologize, says, “Good for you, man. Last time we talked, I got the feeling you hadn’t quite sparked with the kink…but I take it that’s changed?”

Still blushing, I nod. “Yeah. I feel a bit stupid for not realizing that I wasn’t a Daddy and that I actually wanted a Daddy, but—”

“Nope, we don’t use that word,” Charlie points his finger at me, his face marred with consternation. “Besides, there’s nothing stupid about it at all. The whole Daddy thing was what interested you to begin with, so it makes sense that you started there.”

“That’s pretty much what Drake said,” I sigh.

Asher sits up straighter again. “Drake? Like… Drake Drake? The cuddly Daddy who runs the bakery on the corner of Twelfth Avenue?” He wiggles with excitement. “Is he your Daddy? Please say yes! He makes the best cupcakes!”

Is it wrong that I feel a bit jealous that Asher knows what Daddy’s cupcakes taste like, but I don’t?

Don’t answer that.

“Yeah,” I start, and Asher squeals. His enthusiasm is infectious, and I find myself grinning despite my moment of childish envy. “We, um, we spent Christmas together, and I accidentally discovered that I’m really into being Little—”

Asher squeals again. “This sounds just like one of Tony’s meet-cute romance novels,” he declares, and I have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about, but I agree anyway.

“Baby,” Charlie sounds exasperated as he looks at his husband, but the look on his face is full of love, “it’s great that you’re excited for Anson, but you keep interrupting him.”

“Sorry,” Asher apologizes again, and I shrug.

“It’s fine. My thoughts are all jumbled anyway.”

He reaches over to squeeze my thigh. “I get it,” he nods with understanding, the glimpses of his Little side receding with his seriousness. “When I first realized I was a Little, I really struggled with it. Not that I think you are,” he’s quick to add, “but even so, it’s probably jarring when you thought you were a Daddy. Also,” he shrugs, “who’s to say you’re not, like, an age play Switch or something? A Daddy with some people and a Little with others?”

“Is that a thing?” I ask, frowning as I swivel my gaze between him and Charlie.

Ash pouts a little, lifting his hands up at his sides with their palms up. “I can’t see why it can’t be.”

After considering it for a moment, I decide that it’s possible there are people out there who are into playing both roles, but that’s not for me. Shaking my head, I admit, “I don’t think that’s me, though. I found being a Daddy hard. Being Little was…liberating.” I think back over the holiday just gone with wistfulness.

I miss Daddy.

Just like that, Asher is back to being his bubbly, bordering-on-Littlespace self. “So, what’s the problem? Is it that you think people at The Grove are going to be all ‘ugh, weren’t you a Daddy?’ or something?”

That concern never even crossed my mind. “No…it’s just…I guess I miss Daddy. A lot. Only I haven’t really spoken to him since the day after Christmas and, I mean, we did kind of fall into a super serious relationship really fast and…I don’t know. I just…I wanted to talk it out with an unbiased party before I turned up on his doorstep demanding cuddles and a paci.”

Or to fuck him and claim him as mine.

So sue me, I’ve been watching a lot of porn since I’ve been left to my own devices. But it’s not just about the sex or the kink.

“And it’s not that I don’t think he’d like that,” I hurry to add, “because we talked about everything, and I think we’re on the same page. I mean, I know he cares because he’s been texting, and he got some guy to fix my car, so I’m not, like, afraid that he’s changed his mind or anything. But…sometimes I don’t trust my own impulses, y’know?”

And there’s my lightbulb moment of the day. That’s the reason I came here instead of tracking Drake down. I trust him wholeheartedly to have been completely honest with me and, especially after talking to Vince, I know he would be happy to see me. But I’m still unsure that I can trust my instincts now, when until this point they were leading me down the wrong path.

Like…what if I’m not really a Little after all and I’ve just led Drake on? I would hate myself for hurting him.

“So, you’re questioning whether you’re really a Little?” Charlie puts my garbled thoughts into a succinct question.

I bob my head so quickly my teeth clack together. Scooting to the edge of my seat, I clasp my hands tightly between my spread knees and lean forward. “If I was wrong about being a Daddy…”

“You said being Little was liberating,” he takes over calmly. I find his low, gravelly voice soothing. He’s very Daddy. Just not my Daddy. “Why?”

I blink. “Why what?”

“Why did it feel liberating? You chose that word for a reason. You didn’t say it felt sexy, or kinky, or naughty. You said ‘liberating’. Why?”

“Well…because it felt…it felt…” Like I could finally let go and just be myself. Like I didn’t have to put on a role to make someone else happy, or to keep someone else calm. Like I didn’t have to worry about anything other than just enjoying myself. Hell, I didn’t even really have to worry about going to the bathroom! I could just be free of any and all concerns or stresses.

And there goes another lightbulb.

“Oh,” I finish lamely.

Charlie’s right: my primary motivation to stay Little wasn’t the kink. It wasn’t the sex, even though I really enjoy the sex. It wasn’t that I was trying to fit a mold or play a role. It was that being Little comes naturally to me.

Being with Drake comes naturally to me.

Charlie grins knowingly at me. “So, are you still worried that you can’t trust your gut on this one?”

I turn to Asher, a rush of joy bringing my own Little side forward as I ask, “Can I hug your Daddy?”

Asher beams back at me. “He’s the best, right?”

My thoughts drift to Drake and I only just manage not to refute his claim.

Charlie snorts, though, and I’m pretty sure he knows what I was thinking. Still, I give him a hug and thank them both for letting me talk out the antsy feeling that I hadn’t been able to shake.

Now to find my Daddy…

…and claim him.