5. GRIFFIN

Every previous relationship I'd had was fleeting. It was a temporary piece of time that I would reflect on. I tried not to look back on all those times while I was with Russell, who for all my little needs was Daddy.

I had a lot of work to do in myself, and every step forward I took, my brain was making me take two steps back. This wasn't my first rodeo, and I was beginning to let it cloud my mind the closer and more cuddly Russell grew with me.

As the kick-off event started and we all had drinks, I allowed myself a moment of quiet outside. It overwhelming when all I could see were couples together, holding hands, kissing, and some of them getting their exhibitionist side on.

I'd never been part of a gay scene, even in New York, I was rarely there to do anymore than brunch. That was about as much of the gay scene as I saw, and even that wasn't inherently gay, but where Ryan lived in the West Village, it absolutely was.

There was peace outside, looking out over the water as the sun was almost completely set. I took a seat on one of the benches and sipped at the last of my cocktail. Ryan knew I was easily overwhelmed in some social situations, but Russell didn't, and the last thing I wanted was for him to think I bailed.

"Don't stress," I mumbled to myself. In modeling, I sometimes had to pep talk myself into getting things done, like forcing a smile, being happy, and pretending like I wasn't having a crisis because everyone else was comfortable, confident, and had no secrets to hide.

Russell waited for me by the arched doorway into the room. "I figured you'd gone to get some air," he said. "It's a bit stuffy in there."

"Yeah, I—"

He took my hand, locking his fingers with mine. "Let's go for a walk upstairs. I heard they put on these light shows in the evening and they look the best from the deck above the pool. Whichever one that is. Do you want to figure it out with me?"

And after all that doubt and self-talk, he wiped it away. I wondered if he even knew what effect he had on me. "Yeah. I'd like that."

We were quiet in the elevator, finally figuring out the deck we had to get off at. In my brain, there was a symphony playing, soft and sharp, violin strings like the throb of my heart as it raced, wondering why Russell had an effect on me.

"Look," he whispered once we were outside. "A rainbow."

The sun had set, and now the ship was projecting lights into the sky. All the colors of the rainbow, one by one went from left to right in the sky. "I needed this," I told him. "I guess today has been a fucking whirlwind. Not that I regret anything," I quickly said. "I just—I take a longer time to come out of my shell to people."

"It's ok," he said, cuddling me in at his shoulder. "In fact, I'm the same. I don't open up. I focus on work too much, blah blah, you know. All the things people have told me before."

We were similar. I wondered if that was another thing that pushed us together so quickly. "It's like one of those times when the world around me feels like it's stopped. And I don't feel myself breathing."

"That doesn't sound good."

It wasn't good. It was a sign of my internal organs panicking. "I'm trying not to let this overwhelm me."

"Good. Don't let it. It'll ruin you if you do," he said. I wondered if he was telling himself that as well, since we were similar, I assumed he was going through the same thing. "I want to get to know you. What else do you do for fun?"

"I—" Biting my tongue, I didn't know what to tell him. I seemed pretty boring when I thought about it. "I—I don't do much, actually."

"Of course, you do." He nuzzled his nose in at my neck and kissed me. "You like to play. Right?"

I did like to play. I just wasn't something I had on the my mind all the time. There was a real fear in my life that I would accidentally bring up something about age play or Daddies, or how much I love my stuffies. "I do love to color, and be in that state, but I don't get to be in it as often as I'd like."

"How about the two of us go back down to the cabin and see what we can do to help figure out what things you like," he suggested. "Or—you go down, and I'll see what I can find around this shop that might make you happy."

My eyes lit up. He appealed to the part of me that needed to play, and I was in desperate need of some little time. "Ok," I said. "I should tell my friends that I'm going back down for the night. Oh—oh, but we didn't even have dinner."

As he showed this caretaker side, he became Daddy, and Daddy winked at me. "I already thought of that," he said. "It was going to be part of the surprise. They offer room service."

Now I understood why people called these things hotels on water, and they were slowly growing on me, even if I felt both claustrophobic and free. Being trapped on a ship, but also surrounded by the freedom of the open water.

At the elevator, we parted ways. I went back to the cabin, my stomach and chest swelled with excitement. It had been a while since I'd had someone to play with. The idea of playing with a Daddy was nice. I'd played with other littles, but those were purely friends. I liked to play and play in the sheets.

I made a mess, trying to figure out which onesie I wanted to wear. It was warm, so all of the extra fluffy ones were out of the question. I ended up in a blue onesie that the back opened. It wouldn't be getting any use there other than the bathroom.

Before Daddy came back, I'd shoved the mess of clothes I'd made into the closet. It reminded me of how I had a floordrobe back home in New York. It wasn't like I actually spent much time there anyway to keep it clean.

I was sat on the two beds pushed together, playing with my stuffie and organizing the coloring crayons into the rainbow. I was ready to start on some of the coloring pages I'd brought with me. They had been reduced to use on flights and long car journeys now, but since people gave me weird looks sometimes, I'd resorted to using apps on my phone, and they didn't give me nearly half the satisfaction as pens, pencils, crayons and some good paper stock did.

Daddy had a tote bag on his arm. "I found so many things," he said. "It turns out, when they're not doing these pride cruise events, they're catering to kids, so my friend who works here went back into the little supply closet and he got us supplies."

"Supplies?"

He kicked his shoes off and sat at the bottom of the bed. "He asked me what types of things I wanted, and I didn't know. I should've asked you properly before going. But, it's trial and error, so let me know if you like anything in here."

Inside the cloth bag, there were plastic animal toys, more coloring pages, and so many colorful pens, even some glitter pens. My hands shot for them immediately. As a teen, I'd gotten into so much trouble in school for coloring all over my hands with glitter pens, making five-letter words on my knuckles and then attempting to press each knuckle down like I was a human printing press.

"Do they smell like anything?" I didn't wait long enough to answer, removing the top of the pen and sticking it below my nose to take a whiff. It wasn't a flavored scent, just inky, which wasn't really a scent at all.

Daddy started to undo his shirt buttons. "I saw the way you looked at my tattoos earlier," he said. "Maybe I can be your paper and you can color me in."

I squealed, bouncing on my knees and clapping. "Yes, please."

"And while you do that, we can think about room service," he said. "There's a menu somewhere. I—" he looked around, moving objects on the desk. "It's under the bottles." He pulled out a black folded binder. "Can't believe we missed that."

And on cue, my stomach grumbled. "What do they have?"

"Let me guess," he said, flicking through the binder. "You want tenders, fries, and plenty of dip."

He spoke to my soul, and my soul was sitting in my stomach right now. "Please." There were other things I could use to get into my little space, like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with all the crusts cut off and some chocolate milk. Then there were tater tots, but I figured asking for these on a cruise ship in Europe would've had people giving me the side eye. I didn't count on them having any child options for food because this was an adult only cruise.

Now that we'd sorted one of my comforts out, it was time to get onto the next.

Daddy laid still as I sat on his chest. Snug Bug was under me, secured in position to watch as I used the glitter pens. They were really good quality not running out or stopping like some pens did when they were used on skin.

"I got these tattoos in my late twenties," he said. "But I never had the money to go back and get them colored, so I just left them outlined. I think it's the best decision I made."

Hyperfocus took over, my tongue peeking out of my mouth as I pressed it between my teeth. I colored within the lines, very careful about making sure I didn't make any mistakes. There were abstract shapes and one of them made up a lion face, another a panda, and a third one created a bird of some type.

"Why these animals?" I asked.

"One time, I went to the zoo and I saw this lion there, sad, looking. I wanted to work in a zoo, but then I didn't. It's the story of my life, really. Always wanting to do things, and then never. But that was in my twenties, I manage to see things through now."

"What's your favorite animal?"

"It changes," he said. "I love otters, they're so cute when they're in the waters swimming with their mate. And I love blue whales. I just can't comprehend how large they are. It's exciting to think about. And what's your favorite?" He tapped a finger at my chin.

"My stuffie," I said, wiggling around on top of them both. "He's a bear."

"A teddy bear," he said, tickling my sides. "A real animal."

"A teddy bear is a real animal," I giggled.

Before I could finish coloring, a heavy knock came at the door with food.

As Daddy went to get the food. I thought about what my favorite animal was. It must have changed since the last time I'd thought about it, because animals were so free, I would sometimes think about living like them. Right now, blue whales seemed pretty exciting, but I also liked the idea of being a panda, just living carefree and munching through tons of bamboo every day. I was easily influenced, apparently.

The food arrived on a small cart. They were covered by metal cloches. It was exciting, like Deal or No Deal getting ready to see what was hiding inside out boxes.

"Don't get your hopes up," he said. "I've heard people complain about the food on these things."

"I guess that's because people only come here for one thing," I said.

"And one thing only," he chuckled, finishing my sentence. "After three, we say it."

"Ok."

"One, two, three," he said.

"Dick!" I shouted.

"Alcohol," he said.

I guess we weren't on the same page about things, but they definitely went hand-in-hand.

My food was a handful of chicken tenders, a small bowl of thick fries, and four small paper caps with sauce in them. I wasn't mad about it, but it looked like I'd get one dip out of each. Daddy had a rice dish with chicken.

This was the perfect way to spend the night. Tenders, coloring, and a warm Daddy making sure all my needs were being met.