Chapter 8 Noah
NOAH
I never expected to fall in love just before Christmas, much less become someone's Daddy in the process. When Corey knocked on my door just a few weeks ago, my grumpy heart didn't stand a chance.
Now here we were, on the morning of our first Christmas Eve together, and I was watching him sleep in my bed like he'd always belonged there. His brown hair was adorably mussed against my pillow, his lean body curled toward me even in sleep.
Just a few days ago, we were basically strangers. And now I was already planning forever with my boy.
A soft ping from the living room caught my attention. It was usually Corey's phone. The boy was obsessed with the social media accounts for his business, which was understandable given how successful he’d become in just the few weeks since his launch.
I carefully slipped out of bed so I didn’t wake him. He'd been working himself to the bone over the past week to fill all the Christmas orders he’d received. But with all his cookies shipped, he was finally able to turn off his order form and take a few days off.
In the living room, I picked up his phone to silence it, but caught sight of the notification. Another photo he was tagged in. I was so proud of my boy.
The room was dark, so I pulled back the curtain to find— "Holy shit," I whispered.
Snow.
Not the dusting we'd been expecting, but several inches of powder blanketed the ground outside, with more still coming down. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass and watched fat flakes swirl in the wind.
"Mmm, Daddy?" The sleepy voice behind me made my chest tighten.
Corey was standing in the doorway of my bedroom with his hair sticking up in all directions, wearing nothing but my oversized university history department t-shirt.
It hit him mid-thigh, making him look even smaller than his 5'9" frame.
"Morning, sweet boy." My voice automatically softened in a way that only happened for him. "Come look."
He padded to me and pressed against my side so I could wrap my arms around him. “We’re gonna have a white Christmas after all.”
"It's beautiful." His voice held that note of childlike wonder that had been appearing more frequently since we'd started exploring his Little side. "Is that... Are we snowed in?"
I nodded, surprised to find myself smiling at the prospect. "Looks that way. My guess is pretty much everything's gonna be closed. Even the roads."
"Oh!" His eyes widened. “So what are we gonna do?”
I squeezed him closer and kissed his neck. "Now you're all mine for the holidays."
He beamed up at me, his eyes shining. "Promise?"
"Cross my heart." I made the motion over my chest that earned me a giggle. "How about breakfast? I make a mean French toast."
“Can I have my milk first?”
“Of course.” Corey was getting used to milk in the mornings and at bedtime.
I still pumped at least once or twice during the day to donate, but I couldn’t deny him something he enjoyed so much.
Not to mention how much I enjoyed it too.
And suckling almost always led to making love, so neither of us wanted to skip a session.
Afterward, Corey showered and I puttered around my kitchen, pulling out ingredients for our big Christmas dinner. It still felt surreal having him in my space.
Just a few days ago, I was a loner with a secret that only a small group of people from the Lactin Brotherhood knew about. Now, I was sharing my apartment, my body, and my heart with this gorgeous baker who had somehow unlocked parts of me I'd kept hidden for years.
By the time he came back out, I had coffee brewing and bread soaking in the egg mixture.
"Mmm, cinnamon." Corey hopped onto one of the barstools at my kitchen island. “Smells yummy.”
I slid a mug of coffee his way, with more cream than coffee and enough sugar to make my teeth hurt. "Did you sleep well?"
"Mmhmm." He wrapped his hands around the mug and blew at the steam. "Even though someone wore me out last night."
I smirked at the memory of Corey spread beneath me, gasping and begging so prettily. "Guilty as charged."
As I cooked, Corey scrolled through his phone and liked all the pictures of his baking creations or comments from his followers. The domesticity of it all felt exactly right, like we'd been doing this for years instead of days.
"Oh wow!" He turned his phone to show me a weather report. "The National Weather Service says we might get two more feet of snow by tonight. That's crazy!"
"Looks like we picked the perfect day to be trapped together." I slid a plate of French toast in front of him. "Eat up, sweet boy."
Corey dug in eagerly, making little sounds of appreciation that went straight to my groin. I had to remind myself that we had all day. There was no need to rush anything.
After breakfast, we found ourselves back at the window, watching the snow continue to fall. Corey leaned against me, and I could feel a shift in his energy. It was almost like a release in his posture.
"What would you like to do today?" I ran my hand through his hair.
He didn't answer immediately, just leaned into my touch like a cat. Then, in a voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear him, he said the words I’d been waiting for. "Can we... Can I be Little today? Just for a while…"
My heart swelled. We'd talked about this aspect of his desires, how sometimes he wanted to let go of adult responsibilities and be cared for completely. We'd dipped our toes in but hadn't fully explored it yet.
"Of course you can, sweet boy." I turned him to face me. "Do you want Daddy to help you figure out how?"
He nodded, suddenly shy.
"Okay." I took his hand and led him to the couch. This was new for both of us, but I’d been collecting supplies for just this moment. "Let's set some rules for Little time, so we both know what to expect. Would that make you feel safe?"
Another nod, more eager this time.
"When you're feeling Little, I want you to use your words as best you can to tell me what you need. If something doesn't feel right, we have our color system—green for good, yellow for pause, red for stop. Remember?"
"Yes, Daddy." His voice already sounded softer, younger.
"Good boy." I squeezed his hand. "When you're Little, you don't worry about big things like work or bills or responsibilities. That's Daddy's job. Your job is to play and be happy and let Daddy take care of you. How does that sound?"
His smile was radiant. "Perfect."
"And Daddy will make sure you're fed, and clean, and safe, and loved." I brushed his hair from his forehead. "So, so loved."
His eyes welled up a bit at that, and he threw his arms around my neck. "Thank you, Daddy."
Watching Corey slip into his Little headspace was like watching a flower bloom. His movements became more uninhibited, his laughter more frequent, his eyes wider with wonder at simple things.
I suggested we bake Christmas cookies for fun…without the pressure of it being for his business.
In the kitchen, he sat on a stool while I gathered ingredients. I'd never been much of a baker, but I had basic supplies.
"Can I measure the flour, Daddy? I'm really good at it!"
"Of course, sweet boy. Show me how it's done."
He took the measuring cup with careful concentration, his tongue poking out slightly as he leveled off the flour with a knife. The precision didn't surprise me since he was a professional baker, but the pure joy on his face when I praised him did something to me that was new.
An emotion bubbled up inside me that was as overwhelming as it was satisfying.
"Perfect job, sweetheart! Such a clever boy you are."
He beamed, bouncing a little on his stool. "I can do the sugar too!"
We worked together to mix the dough, his professional knowledge peeking through even in his Little mindset. I found myself laughing more than I had in ages, especially when he got a smudge of butter on his nose and didn't notice until I leaned over to kiss it off.
When the cookies were in the oven, Corey turned to me with pleading eyes. "Can we build a blanket fort while they bake? Please, Daddy? Please?"
How could I say no to that? We gathered every blanket and pillow in my apartment and draped them over the furniture to create a cozy hideaway in the living room.
I even took the small string of lights from the tabletop, fake tree Corey gave me and strung them inside the fort to create a magical glow.
Once we were settled in our fort, Corey curled against my chest and tucked his head under my chin. “I cuddle, Daddy.”
"Yes, sweet boy. I always want to cuddle my sweet boy."
"Mmhmm…" He murmured against my chest and closed his eyes.
This connection between us was unlike anything I'd experienced before.
Corey’s hand rested over my heart, and I covered it with my own.
"Thank you for trusting me, sweet boy." I kissed his forehead. "How do you feel?"
"Safe. Happy." He yawned, stretching like a cat. "And hungry for cookies!"
The timer was going off, so we crawled out, and I pulled the pan from the oven.
We spent the afternoon in gentle play—coloring in some printouts I found online, watching a Christmas movie, and building a "snowman" out of pillows since we couldn't go outside. Throughout it all, I offered praise and guidance, delighting in every smile and giggle and moment of pure joy on my sweet boy’s face.
As evening approached, I sensed a shift in him—a gradual return to his big self. We were cuddled on the sofa when he looked at me with eyes that held both his Little and adult sides.
"Noah?" I was almost startled to hear him use my name instead of "Daddy" for the first time in hours.
"Yes, Corey."
"Thank you for today. For understanding and accepting this part of me." His voice was soft but fully coherent. "I've never shared this aspect of myself with anyone before."
I pulled him closer and kissed his temple. "Thank you for trusting me with it. It's a gift, Corey. You're a gift."
He was quiet for a moment, tracing patterns on my chest with his fingertips. "I know this is fast since we've only been together for a few days, but I've never felt this way before."
My heart raced from the weight of the moment. I'd been thinking the same thing. This thing between us was impossible but also completely magical.
"Me too." My voice was rough with emotion. "For someone who lectures about the long arc of history, I'm suddenly very impatient about my own future."
He laughed at that, and I wanted to hear more of the joyous sound. Then he pushed himself up on one elbow to look me in the eyes. "Noah Richmond, I want you to know that I’m stupidly, ridiculously in love with you."
My breath caught. Despite feeling it myself, hearing him say those words made it real in a way that shook me to my core. I cupped his face in my hands, with my thumbs brushing his cheeks. "Corey Abrams, I have loved you since you dropped that first stocking on my doorstep."
He laughed again, tears shining in his eyes. "Oh, come on. You were annoyed by that."
“Maybe a little, but only because I didn’t know how to respond.” I chuckled and pulled him closer for a kiss. "But I do love you. All of you. The brilliant baker, the influencer and entrepreneur, and the sweet boy who trusts me to be his Daddy."
He sighed, content to let me hold him against me.
"Merry Christmas Eve, sweet boy."
"Merry Christmas Eve, Daddy. Thank you for making it the best Christmas ever, and it’s not even Christmas yet."