Chapter 18
DEXTER
I still don’t understand how this boy doesn’t see his own value.
The guys at his shop, minus the jag who was arrested yesterday, all love him.
His nibling loves him so much. Hell, even Russ loves him already and that man would spite a granny baking him cookies if she wore the wrong color shoes on a Sunday.
“Why are you even telling me all of this?” he asks, pulling me out of my thoughts of dismembering his family for ever making him feel lesser.
“Because I like you, Johnny.”
I watch the blush creep up his neck and have to refrain from kissing the tips of his now scarlet ears. My boy absolutely has a praise kink.
“But you said you’re a Daddy,” he pouts adorably and I lean in to peck him on the lips. As much as I would love our first kiss to be passionate and lead to some exhausting cardio, right now, I want the focus to be on our connection. The rest can come later.
“And you, my boy, are a Little. You just needed to find people who let you be yourself freely.”
Johnny springs to his feet and starts pacing. I know he needs to come to terms with it on his own. I know this. In my haste and sleep deprived mind, I went too fast. I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that. Now he’s going to disappear on me and hate me and...
“It makes sense... I think.”
Looking over to where he stopped pacing, it takes me a second to notice what he’s looking at. Russ is the type of Little that likes a little bit of everything, so his room has the full range of toys from tiaras to Hot Wheels. Johnny is staring at Legos in the tub on the shelf.
“I like the feeling of building with these,” he says while lifting up a handful of the bricks to let them fall through his fingers back into the container. “Like, I like how I feel peaceful inside when I create things with them.”
He turns back to look at me and I know it’s the fully grown up Johnny that I’m dealing with while he comes to terms with everything he’s rediscovering about himself.
There’s something about the juxtaposition of the grown man in the childish pajamas reflecting on the joy of just being able to play that pulls at my heart strings.
He walks over to the decal on the wall next to the Paw Patrol play set and I see a tear slide down his cheek.
Why is he crying? I stand up from the bed, but he holds a hand out to stop my approach.
“I thought it was wrong to like things like this,” he whispers while brushing his fingertips over the cartoon dog.
“I hid it away because I knew people would see it like Paul does. What kind of grown man watches kids shows and plays with pre-school toys? That’s what they always say.
Add in that I’m gay and suddenly they think I’m trying to do something to little boys. ”
I don’t care if he wants me to stand back. There is no way I’m not offering him the comfort he obviously needs right now.
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Baby Boy,” I whisper and pull him into my arms. “They’re just toys and television shows. My aunt used to watch true crime documentaries, but it doesn’t mean she was getting away with murder. You’re allowed to enjoy what you enjoy.”
“But what about...”
I cut him off with another peck to his lips. I am going to destroy the people who put this insecurity in his mind. I just have to figure out how to do it without ending up in jail.
“Are you forcing other people to play with you or watch your shows with you?”
He shakes his head slowly, watching me warily.
“Then you’re not doing anything wrong. What you’re doing is exactly the same as going to the garage and working on a project or watching football on a Sunday. They are activities that bring you joy that don’t harm anyone.”
His body sags in my arms and I realize just how badly this worried him. I need to put an end to his worrying and get down to letting him enjoy being Little.
“And personally, as someone who would absolutely love to be Daddy to your Little, none of those activities bother me one bit.”
Johnny tenses in my arms for a few seconds before wrapping his own around my waist and squeezing tight.
“I think I like that idea... Daddy.”