12. RUSSELL

We were all fun drunk. This wasn't my first wine tasting. I'd been on a couple of them to schmooze clients, but this was definitely the most fun I'd ever had at one.

Once we were back on board with our wine, we wasted no time in getting into them. I'd noticed Griffin take a like to a couple of them, and to him, he said it was basically justfruity juice anyway, and I couldn't disagree with that.

I took responsibility and didn't let him get through too much of the wine before taking him upstairs for dinner. His eyes were a little pink and glassy from the wine, as well as being hit with a bout of giggles. He was infectious, his energy had that effect on everyone around him.

He had tenders and fries, I had pasta. I dripped his tenders in the ketchup and fed him them. It brought him so much joy, even if he didn't verbalize it.

"Tomorrow is the little's meet up," I reminded him, gaging the excitement levels from what I'd seen earlier.

"I'm so nervous," he said after chewing and swallowing his food. "What if I don't fit in with the other littles?"

"Being different is good," I told him. "But you all share the same common interest in age regression, playing with toys, teddies, and dressing up."

He hooked the back of his foot around mine under the table. "You're coming with me, right?"

"I will be there, but not with you." I assumed there was probably going to be a different area for the Daddies, Masters, Sirs, and Doms. I couldn't be completely certain about that, but right now, I didn't need to be certain, I just needed to give him reassurance and confidence.

"Ok," he said, grabbing my leg with both feet now and tugging. "Tonight, I wanna color on you again. But not with glitter. I have pens. I don't like the way the glitter pens looked. They were too light."

"Consider me your personal coloring book," I said. "And let me know if you want any additional pages added?"

"More tattoos?" He perked up, sliding in his chair.

I dipped another tender in sauce before feeding him. "Yeah, absolutely. I like to keep it corporate, so as long as it's not on the hands and stays above the knee, I'm pretty easy. I go to this one guy in the city. Gael, he has his own studio." He was someone I'd met through the Playhouse Club, that place was a great networking spot for queer business owners.

"I could never get a tattoo," he said, before taking the tender off the fork with his teeth.

"Because of modeling?"

He nodded. "It's also just not something I think I could do. Like, what if I hate the design I've picked out. I don't want to live with regrets about it."

"You don't have to get one, and they're definitely not for everyone."

"You think I'd suit one?"

"There's no way of knowing until you get one. But you could absolutely pull off any look you tried. Probably why you've got a success career."

His excitement got the better of him as he kicked his legs around under the table. "Maybe I could get one of those temporary ones. But like on my ass or something, nobody ever sees that."

I reached out with a napkin, wiping sauce from his mouth. "I see that," I told him. "And I'd like to keep seeing it. If that's ok with you."

Griffin's face grew red, either the overhead lighting was changing, or he was blushing. I liked to believe it was the latter.

When we got to the cabin afterwards, we were both exhausted, drunk, full on food, and in the middle of finding everything funny. We held each other up from slouching too far and falling, and thankfully we made it back to the cabin in one piece without any bruised knees.

The stumbling happened as we undressed, but we couldn't be held accountable for the swaying I was sure had been the ship. The ship was stationery so that was unlikely, but in the moment, I made a joke about it.

We settled on the bed together, naked and radiating a mix of drunk heat and the heat we'd collect from the sun that day.

"I wish we could stay on this cruise for a month," Griffin confessed, laying on top of me like a cat almost. A set of felt coloring pens in a baggy at my side for his convenience. "Or maybe just like this."

"It would be a lot of fun," I said, combing a hand through his hair. It was so soft and springy, like running your hand through a field of conditioned grass. "And we have room service, a view, sure, it's only a small porthole, but it's a view outside."

"Have you seen the view Ryan and Thom got?" he mumbled. "A full balcony. Two chairs."

"I bet it was double the cost as well."

"Yeah. I think so, this room was one of the cheaper options."

I couldn't help but smile at his words. "It's one of the reasons I'd gone for it as well. It made good business sense to pay less and rooming with someone I matched with."

"Oh. I actually booked it because of the matching option," he said, switching out pens. "Ryan has been on at me to find someone for ages. I've never been in any rush to find a—anyone really. In fact, I've just considered myself romance averse."

"I don't believe that. Not for a moment."

"Well, believe it. You're getting a different side of me here. Once I'm home, it'll probably change."

I understood that. I knew this wasn't going to be a forever thing, we'd only just met, but it was nice to think the cruise had done something good. And I was different. I found myself falling in love again and again, and perhaps that was my problem. I was a romantic. I loved to care for those I considered a partner. Being a Daddy, or a Dominant figure was always something that brought pleasure to me, but like all pleasure, I knew it had to be temporary.

There was a constant reminder happening in the back of my mind, telling me to savor every moment. It was better to have experienced this and let it go in a week, than to have not shared the experience at all.

Griffin was in a world of his own, head going side to side as he sang a little and continued to color within the lines of my chest and arm tattoos. I didn't recall falling asleep, but I had, and when I woke up, Griffin was snoring beside me on the other side of the bed hugging Snug Bug.

It was too early to wake up, so I cuddled up beside him. Both of our bodies were radiators. The comforter and any sheets that had been on the bed were eventually kicked off. It might not have been the best practice, but the only way our bodies were cool were from the mattresses themselves. The AC only touched the top of our bodies.

My dreams were telling of the situation running around in my mind. The way I was chasing Griffin around New York City, and the city itself had life, moving us further from each other, but keeping us within watching distance. I knew we both wanted to see each other after our time together, but it was impossible to say what was going to happen in the future, or where Griffin would find himself through modeling, and I wasn't going to hold him back from that.

Eventually I woke to Griffin coloring on my skin, bright light streamed in through the porthole window, making his tanned skin appear to glow in my face. "Morning," I said in a yawn.

"Morning, Daddy," he said, not breaking concentration from his coloring. "You were moving around so much last night. Were you having a nightmare?"

"No," I said, touching at the glow on his skin. It warmed him. "It's just warm. We might need to request a bedding change," I told him. "I think I kicked off the rest of the sheets last night."

"Good idea. And I already know what I want for breakfast," he said. "I want to go to the oat bar again. I think I'm going to get the strawberries, as much as they can give me this time."

"What time is it?"

"Um—like eight."

"Then we best get up, unless you want to miss out on all those strawberries."

Griffin grasp dramatically. "No, no, no. I can't miss them. I need those strawberries in my life." He pulled away from my body and cocked his head, looking at the art he'd created on my body. I couldn't crane my neck to see.

"Did you do a good job?"

"Yes," he said, blowing and fanning the colors on my skin. "Go look. But don't wash it off."

"No?"

"No, don't wash it. I want you to have it on you all day today. That way, when I'm playing later, I'll be able to figure out who my Daddy is."

I nodded along like my tired brain was processing his words in real-time. "Right."

I was a good Daddy. I wasn't going to let him down by washing it. In the bathroom mirror, I got a good look at the mural he'd painted on my skin. It was a little claustrophobic in a way just looking at it, like my skin couldn't breath, but I knew that was nonsense. I dressed in a button up and a tank top, making sure some of the colors were showing through on my skin.

Griffin got a kick out of seeing the colors at breakfast, like it was secret we shared together, even if some people could also see it. He got what he wanted from the breakfast bar, another large bowl of oats with strawberry toppings and all the sweet sauces.

I was never going to deny him of any of it. In fact, I wanted him to have as much of them as he could. I needed him to think of me as a positive, and give him a reason to seek me out once we were off this boat.

"What if nobody likes me?" he said, out of the blue, although he'd mentioned it last night about the play date event.

"I told you, you're gonna be great." I caressed the back of his hand on the table. "What prompted that thought?"

"Just—just seeing people and wondering if they're like me on the inside, or maybe they're more open with it."

People around the ship weren't afraid to let their freak flag fly. In fact, it was encouraged. People engaged in all types of play onboard, from pet play, to adult baby, and even some servant submissives. It was fun to see it in action, even if it wasn't something I got involved with.

"You know, if they don't like what you bring, then we can go to the Playhouse Club, have you been before?"

His head perked. "I've heard of it."

The first time I'd mentioned it, he hadn't had that type of reaction. "It's a lot of fun there. I'll take you when we're back in the city." And that was step two, put a plan in motion. Something tangible.

"Is it just a weekend thing?" he asked. "Because that would be best for me."

"I'll check," I told him. "But that's a yes, right?"

He brushed his leg up against mine. "If we can meet up when this is over, I'd like it, but I feel like I won't be the same person." His voice turned soft as he looked down at the oats remaining in his bowl.

"I think you'll be the same person," I reassured him, brushing my leg back up against his. "In fact, I'm absolutely sure of it." I understood a lot of stuff Griffin was going through. He was younger, and at that age, he was career focused, trying not to make any wrong steps. I wanted to hold him tight and tell him that it didn't matter what steps he took, because they were all the steps he were meant to take. "Have you picked your onesie out for tonight?" I asked, quickly changing topic so his mind didn't get bogged down thinking about the future.

"Yep. The bear one that matches with Snug Bug."

"Didn't that get something on it?"

"No, well, maybe. I have two." His smile was back, and that was a relief to me.

"Good. Ok, finish up your breakfast. I think we'll have enough time to take a quick trip into Lisbon and grab a couple of those famous pastries."

He smacked his lips at the idea. "Mhmm." I knew that would convince him. I just wished there wasn't an end date to this trip. I needed more time with him.