Chapter 6
Duval
Foster's stomach grumbles as we make our way downstairs. I grin from where I’m snuggling up beside him on the elevator.
My arm wraps around his waist, pulling him tight to me.
“Someone is hungry,” I say.
He blushes and tucks his head closer to me. He's deep in his Little state. It's been interesting to try to communicate with him since he's practically mute.
I'm not sure if it's him being shy or simply how he assesses the situation at first. I would ask, but he hasn't been big long enough for me to. And it seems like the nonverbal part of things might be new to him too. I think we’re learning everything together.
Not that I'm complaining at all. I’m loving this version of him.
Having someone I can take care of all day long? Sign me up.
But I also worry that I'm missing something. That maybe he needs things that I'm not providing.
The only way to fix it is to go above and beyond. Since that's already my personality type, we seem like a good fit.
Downstairs, I stop at the reception desk to ask if they have a menu for the restaurant there to give us an idea of what they have. She hands one over easily, and we step to the side so she can help other people while we scan the options.
Foster looks over them with me. He doesn't light up like he did about the ice cream. I suspect nothing here appeals to him.
It's standard fare with a high dollar touch added in, a mix of dishes to cater to everyone. But clearly, my boy wants something else. Possibly something less fancy than this place offers.
I slip the menu to the woman once she's done with her client and ask for recommendations for a place nearby.
"What kind of cuisine are you interested in?" she asks me.
I turn to Foster, hoping he'll give me some kind of sign. He's not paying any attention to us, though. His eyes are moving around the building, taking in all the bright lights and colorful images.
I worry it might be overwhelming him with the state he's in.
When I brought him in earlier, I had been careful to make sure we weren't here for too long, simply because I wanted to get him somewhere safe. Now, though, I wonder if maybe it's just all too much in general.
I'm still not sure what caused him to panic. There's a lot I have to find out about him. I intend to spend as much time with him as I can to uncover every truth.
“How about something with tacos? A variety. That seems like it would give us plenty of options.”
She smiles. "Yes, sir, there's plenty of those around here.
If you head out onto the main street and take a left, you will find both sides of the road are covered in things from shops you could go and sit down at, to carts where you can grab something on the go and keep walking. Just follow your nose."
Her words make me laugh. I thank her before tucking Foster to my side again. We take off in the direction she said. He moves like he knows where we're going, though I can tell he's also letting me guide him with my hand on his back.
He's teetering between his big and little sides. While I could tell him which one to choose, I know that this is something he has to feel out for himself.
All this seems new to him, both the dynamics that we have and his choice to be nonverbal. I've seen him looking at me several times as if he wants to speak, but he doesn't have the words.
As we walk, I point out different things to him, noting how they're interesting and might be something we could do together at another time.
“If anything smells good, just tell me. We can stop and look at any menu options. We're in no hurry,” I say.
As we pass a cart, the man there is warming up tortillas, and he's got a vast selection of meats. They look delicious, but since my boy doesn't stop, I keep on moving.
A few more blocks go by before I see him freeze. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in, then turns to look across the street. Traffic is fairly busy, but people are moving about as if it's normal.
I see a sign with bright colors, just like the rest of the city, but it's also got this cartoonish style to it. There are pictures on the sign too. It looks as if it's some place dedicated to families and little kids rather than grown men.
Not that that would stop me. If it's what Foster wants, it's what he'll get.
He looks from me to the sign, then points.
“Okay little one, let's go check it out,” I tell him before linking our fingers together and jumping into the fray of things. We weave through bodies and traffic to cross the street.
At the restaurant door, we're greeted by a friendly woman wearing a colorful smock. She greets us in Spanish. Thankfully, I'm fluent enough to speak with her.
"Welcome," she says.
"Thank you," I reply. "We followed the smell. It's enticing. Do you have a menu?"
She nods, pulling out a folded piece of paper from her pocket. It's obvious this is a mom and pop type of place. Somewhere that doesn't see a lot of heavy traffic but clearly has delicious enough food to stay in business.
On the page is a small typed up list of what they have. Once I look over, I show Foster. He nods eagerly, but he doesn't point to one specific thing.
I tilt my head and look at him. "Would you like to try all of it?"
He bites his lip and gives me a slow nod this time, as if he's worried I won't agree.
Silly boy. He’ll learn that I’ll give him anything he wants. All he has to do is tell me.
I tell the woman, "We would like one of everything, please. Well, two of them, actually. And then we might need more depending on what we like.”
Her eyes widen as she takes back the menu and waves us in eagerly.
"Come, come sit," she tells me, switching to English.
When she opens the door, I see that it is…
a Little's paradise, basically. There are crayons, markers, and coloring books laid out on a long table on one side. There’s a carpeted area with books on short bookshelves.
It looks like a cozy place to sit. There's also a screen playing an animated movie, and a wall full of sippy cups, bottles, and divided plates.
What I also notice is that there is not a single child in sight. The room is filled with men like us and even some women. I spot a few androgynous people as well, so I hold off the rest of my gender speculation.
But, wow, what a varied group.
The woman sees me looking around and grins up at me. I wonder if maybe we've just been pegged for what we are.
"Your boy will be happy here," she tells me in perfect English. I gape at her as she laughs and twirls away.
Yeah, we've just been bamboozled.
Foster is enamored with the space. He hasn't settled on one thing in particular he likes because his head is bouncing from space to space and person to person.
I don't think he's overwhelmed. It's more that he’s surprised to find something like this right when we get here.
I knew that the hotel didn't boast any type of kink-specific adventures or events. Still, I hoped maybe I would find someone to play with or spend time with.
Of course, fate made it to where I found Foster on the plane.
It gave us a chance to find one another away from our normal routines in Bellport. From what I can guess, there isn’t much of an opportunity for my boy to be Little. Here, we have the space to have play dates and explore.
If I had to guess, I’d say Foster allows his worries about his age and his job commitments prevent him from getting the regression time he needs.
Hopefully, I can convince my boy that neither of those things factor into my views of him.
He could be ten years older, and I’d still want him.
He could have no job at all, and I wouldn’t bat an eye.
"Do you want to join?" I ask my boy once the silence stretches for too long. “You can do anything you want, Foster.”
Using his real name is my way of making sure he understands I'm serious.
Anything he wants can be his.
All he has to do is tell me.
“I…” he starts, stopping before he finishes the sentence. Instead of saying more, he points to the soft area where the books are.
I smile as I place my hand on his lower back to guide him over.
There's one other boy in this area, and he has his face very deep in a thick book. It's a fairytale collection from what I can see of the cover. And though it doesn't have as many pictures as some of the other books, I have a feeling he’s just as regressed as my boy is in his own world.
I help Foster drop into a seated position. He crosses his legs and puts his hands on his knees as he looks to me where I kneel beside him.
"Would you like me to read to you, Little one?” I ask.
I get another nod, and then I go about helping him select a book. We look at each cover until he settles on one with, ironically enough, dragons on it.
I start the tale and get lost myself as we explore this magical land where these children protect their families with these jewels and fight a bad guy who wants to take their dragons from them.
Near the end, I'm interrupted by the woman who led us inside. She has a large tray of food. She folds two legs down and sets it beside us, creating a small coffee table setup.
"Eat here," she tells us. "It’s fine."
She turns around to leave before I can say anything else. Foster stares down at the food hungrily, so I go about picking up a taco and pointing it his way.
“Bite,” I tell him.
He smiles, opening wide like he did with the ice cream, allowing me to feed him. It's such a wonderful experience.
I can't really put it into words.
To have him trust me this way so soon makes me feel really good about our future.
When he’s done with most of his food sometime later, I devour my own portions, making sure to note what he does and doesn't favor. The woman comes around again, and I order even more.
Before I know it, hours have passed with us sitting there, reading and eating, surrounded by the comforts of what we know, what we enjoy.
It's only as we're getting ready to leave that the boy with the book speaks up.
"Hey," he calls out.
I turn my head.
"There's a party tomorrow. Well, tonight too. But I think you'll like the one for tomorrow better," he says quickly.
He pulls out a small card from his pocket and hands it over.
I look at it and note the information on it. It's not anything special, only an address and a time. On the other side is the same address with a time for tonight. I scrunch my face up, confusion working through me.
"Are you inviting us to a party at your house?"
He shakes his head. "Not my house, but you come to party, okay? Bring your boy."
I open my mouth to speak again, but he slams his book shut, stands up, and runs into the back of the shop. I want to say that I ignore his request, considering the abrupt exit he made, but since he seems familiar enough with the space, I'm tempted to go.
What if this is something else that's a perfect fit for us?
Or what if it's a trap, and we're going to be trafficked across the country?
Considering my brother would lose his shit and come after me if that were to happen, I let some of the worry of it fade. It’s still probably best to think it over and sleep on the idea. I can decide tomorrow.
With full bellies, we make it back to my room. It takes more time because of how slowly we have to go. Foster is very clearly drifting asleep as he stumbles around.
It's adorable.
He's adorable.
"Sweetheart," I say, trying to get his attention.
He frowns at me and shakes his head.
I grin and say, "Little one."
His face smooths out as he nods.
"It's time for bed. We need to get you to sleep. Now, I put your suitcase in the other room, but you’re welcome to join me if you would like. It doesn't mean we have to do anything.” I rush to say it all at once.
Instead of answering me, he lays his head on my shoulder. His body presses against mine, and his thumb moves to his mouth. I chuckle, taking the hint for what it is.
"Okay, okay, little one. You can sleep with DD. Let's go get your pajamas and then we can snuggle up." I ease him on the bed, then leave to get his things.
After opening his suitcase up on the spare bed and pulling out his clothes, I send him into the bathroom to get ready. I leave everything else where it is in case he decides to change his mind in the middle of the night or at any point.
Consent can be taken away if someone changes their mind. It's not a permanent thing. It changes and shifts depending on what's going on.
So I give him space to allow that to happen.
Back in my bedroom, I wait in just a pair of sweats for him to come out. When he does, my heart melts at the adorable pajamas he has on. They're covered in rotary phones, CD players and all types of electronics through the years.
I tug on them, smiling. "I love these. They look good on you."
He blushes, then rushes into the bed and tucks himself under the covers.
I climb on, hovering on my hands and knees as I look down at him. “I think you’ve forgotten something very important.”
He blinks at me, clearly unsure of what I mean. From underneath my pillow, I pull out his teddy from where I had stashed it.
He makes a grabbing motion, and I quickly hand it over. He tucks it into his arm happily. Then his thumb reconnects to his mouth. He sighs, as if all is right in the world.
Once he's all settled, I reach over and turn off the light. It's the most perfect feeling to have him next to me, to know that even though it’s only day one, he’s mine.
When he pulls his thumb out of his mouth a minute later and tilts his head up to mine, I wonder what might happen next.
Instead, he says one word that seals my affection for him in place.
"Kiss?”
It comes out like a question.
Of course, I have the answer.
I press my lips to his gently, making sure to not turn this into anything more than what it is. A gentle kiss goodnight for my sweet little one. Later, we can talk about anything else that might come.
But for now, this is enough.