7. Everett
EVERETT
After getting him cleaned up, I watched over Trace until his breathing evened out and I was sure he was down for the night.
A big part of me didn’t want to leave at all, but he hadn’t asked me to stay over.
I would have if he did. But he’d only asked me to stay until he was asleep, so I had to respect that.
Even though leaving felt wrong in a way that made no sense at all.
Trace had been taking care of himself just fine before I came along. But now that we’d all but made our budding relationship official, the idea of walking out of his apartment while he slept felt dangerous. Anything could happen to him while I was gone.
I was being ridiculous and I knew it, so I gathered my resolve to do the right thing and walked out of his room.
It was surreal to think that I'd spent such a long time telling myself I didn't need a boy to feel complete.
That the past decade of quiet mornings and dinners for one were preferable to worrying about someone else every day.
But that was bullshit, and it was easy to see that my life was already irrevocably changed.
Whether things worked out or not, Trace had changed me.
Trace brought the Daddy in me out of the bottle, and there was no putting it back.
Just one bus ride and a walk through the park made all that patience I used to have morph into a desperate need to move things forward with Trace. We’d already lost so much time together. I didn’t want to spend another day without him by my side.
But I had to.
We could move fast, but we couldn’t move at a pace that might be overwhelming and trigger unnecessary seizures. Trace’s health and well-being were my first priority, well above my own need to spend every second with him.
Before I left, I grabbed his new Connor Cow off the couch and set it gently against his chest. His arm instinctively closed around it without him even opening his eyes. “Thanks, Daddy.”
My whole body froze in place, checking to see if he’d woken up. But he was still asleep. He was talking in his sleep. Fuck, he wasn’t making it easy for me to leave.
There was a taco-shaped notepad and pen on the kitchen counter, so I peeled off a sheet to leave him a note. After a moment of deliberation, I told him I had a great time and hoped to hear from him in the morning. Then I left my number since we hadn’t had a reason to exchange them yet.
I considered attaching the note to his fridge with a magnet, but there were a lot of photos, coupons, and lists already taking up space, and I didn’t want him to miss it. Not just because I didn’t want him to think I left without giving him my number but because I really wanted him to call me.
The ball was in his court as to what happened next.
I just needed him to pick it up and shoot.
After I placed the note on his nightstand so he didn’t miss it, I headed to the front door.
There was a photo on his bookshelf of Trace and another young man his age wearing Minion costumes.
They were both adorable, and I wondered if that was Connor.
I hoped it was, because he seemed like a good partner for my sweet Little.
Then I let myself out and closed the locked door behind me. Every step felt like a hundred pounds were being added to my back, but I kept going until I was inside my car and had no other option but to go home.
The next morning, I woke up early. I didn’t work on the weekends, but my internal clock didn’t have a calendar, so I was always up by five. The first thing I did was to check my phone, but there were no messages or calls from Trace.
In an attempt to distract myself, I did my usual weekend errands.
I threw a load of laundry in the washer before going for a run.
After I got home, I moved the wet clothes to the dryer and took a shower.
My cock couldn’t be ignored a second longer, so I relived the velvety-soft skin on Trace’s dick as I sucked it into my throat and the tangy taste of his come as I swallowed his offering.
I came quickly, but wasn’t nearly satisfied by that.
My hand would never be a good substitute for a partner, but until I was able to see Trace again—with condoms—it was good enough.
After my shower, I checked my phone and then again as I was folding clothes.
The message I’d been waiting for finally arrived a little after nine. Hey. It's Trace. Good morning.
The smile that cut my face was almost painful. Good morning, sweet boy. I hope you slept well.
He responded instantly, like he was staring at his phone and waiting for my response to come through. Slept great. Finding your note was the best way to wake up. If not for that and the cow, I might’ve thought I dreamed the whole thing.
You didn't dream it. He was my dream come true, but in the real-life kinda way. How are you feeling this morning?
There was a pause before the next text came through. Good. Really good, actually. Kinda scared how good, if I'm honest.
I wasn’t sure how to take that. Scared how?
A lot happened yesterday. Usually it takes me months to trust someone and to feel so…attached.
My smile was back, but I didn’t want to pressure him if he needed some space. Just because something is new or different doesn’t mean you should be scared.
I know. I just want everything you said and did to be real.
I thought about how to answer in a way that wouldn't spook him further. I needed to be honest but not overwhelming. It was real for me, Trace. Every word. Every touch. Every kiss. So much for not spooking him. Hell, I was spooking myself.
Promise?
Promise! We weren’t wrong by moving fast. Some things just don't need a slow version. I wasn’t sure if I was saying that to convince him or myself, but it felt like the right thing to say. And believe.
That's a very reassuring thing for a Daddy to say to his anxious boy at nine in the morning.
Fuck, I liked seeing that word come from him unprompted. It sent a warmth through my chest that made me want to drive right over to him. Does that mean you’ll be a good boy for Daddy and believe it?
Yes, and thank you. For everything. I don't think I said that enough last night.
You said it plenty. But you're welcome all the same.
Also, did you pick the taco notepad as some kinda subconscious message?
The taco was the first notepad I found, but now it feels like a lucky food. Nothing about that made sense, but I couldn’t remember the last time I had a nonsense conversation with someone and enjoyed it. It was…refreshing.
Bummer. I thought maybe you were also inviting me out for a taco date.
Oh, I’m definitely inviting you for a taco date. Name the time and the truck and I’ll be there.
We kept up the silly banter through most of the day. By afternoon, I realized that we hadn’t solidified our taco plans. So, tacos tonight? I can pick you up at six.
The typing bubble showed up but then disappeared for a few minutes with no message coming through.
I was just about to call him to make sure he wasn’t in the middle of a seizure when his response finally came through.
Today's actually my sleepover with Connor.
I don't wanna bail on him, but I really wanna see you.
I smoothed out the comforter I’d just replaced on my bed after changing the sheets. I would never ask you to bail on Connor. We can meet up tomorrow or Monday, if that’s better for you. As disappointed as I was to not see him, I was happy he was going to get some Little time with his best friend.
Gimme two minutes to check something.
The bubbles didn’t reappear, so I grabbed my keys and headed out to the grocery store. I needed to stock up for the week, and there were a few important supplies I wanted before I saw Trace next.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with a message. I asked Connor if you could stop by for a little bit. He said, and I quote, one movie, maybe dessert, and then you're out, this is still our night.
Grinning at my phone, I made a note to get some extra treats for those boys. I can absolutely respect those terms.
He's very serious about the terms. And I should warn you that he already has a list of questions for you.
It warmed my heart to know that Trace had people looking out for him that way. I look forward to the interrogation.
Don't say I didn't warn you.
Meeting the best friend felt like the kind of thing I wanted to get right on the first try. What time should I come by and what are your fave desserts?
7 is good. And Connor loves those gourmet cupcakes from the bakery on Fifth.
I knew exactly the bakery he was talking about. It wasn’t on my route, but I drove by it every day. Noted. See ya at 7.
See you at 7, Daddy.
I hearted his message and kept looking at it as I did my shopping. For the rest of the afternoon, I imagined hearing him say those words to my face. When he was awake, at least.
I spent longer than necessary picking out cupcakes. How was I expected to decide between chocolate and confetti…or strawberry or cookies & cream. They all looked amazing. After an eternity of anguish, the woman behind the counter took pity on me and boxed up one of each.
As long as they didn’t eat them all in one night, they might not get sick. But as long as Connor liked at least a few of them, maybe my chances of getting his seal of approval weren’t bad.