Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Theo
My hand trembled, clenching onto the hem of my shirt so tight that my knuckles whitened.
Shea’s eyes dropped to my stomach, and a soft gasp burst out of him.
Blue eyes filled with tears, attention flickering between my chest and my face.
The longer that passed without him saying something, the more I wanted to turn and run.
I was familiar with Littles, even more with those who regressed to a point where they had accidents.
It was part of the job, and I wasn’t bothered by Shea’s gender of all things.
It didn’t bother me that he might have needed my help.
What did bother me, was the fact that he thought his top surgery scars were what had me freaking the fuck out.
No, it had nothing to do with the scars, or the soft, light smattering of hair on his chest. Below those faint pink lines, above the trail of fuzz that led down to his belly button, was something I hadn’t seen in a very long time—and that I thought I’d never see again.
It was a small tattoo, no bigger than the palm of my hand. Calling it a tattoo was generous, because it had been done in someone’s basement with a homemade tattoo gun.
So had mine.
The chunky lines were blown and faded, but the image was clear. A headstone with the words, “See You.”
Mine was near identical, but said, “In Hell.”
Heat built behind my eyes just as Shea let tears crawl down his cheeks. I let out a shuddering breath and let my shirt fall. Shea’s mouth opened and shut, floundering for something—anything to say.
When he’d entered the building, something familiar tugged at my chest, but I never in a million years would have imagined that he would be…
“Hi,” I whispered, resisting the overwhelming urge to haul him into my arms and never let him go again.
“Hi,” he echoed.
And for a moment, we just stood there, taking in each other for the first time in a decade. The last time I’d seen him, we’d been teenagers—and both of us pre-transition.
While my parents were more than accepting of their daughter no longer being a daughter, Shea wasn’t so lucky. Even before we were both out as transgender, all we ever heard was how we were sinners, and how we would spend eternity in Hell for what we were doing.
The tattoos happened the night before his parents hauled him to another state, far away from “temptation.”
I’d scoured social media for months after, called and texted relentlessly. He’d just… vanished.
I was heartbroken.
I began my physical transition soon after and while I did date and play at kink clubs periodically, I never forgot Shea. He’d been my everything, and no one else ever measured up.
Blinking away my blurry vision, I remembered that Shea was still wet and needed clean clothes. “Um… I understand if you’d rather have some privacy,” I said, throat tight.
Please don’t make me go…
Shea smiled sweetly, handing over the things he’d snatched from the table. “You’ve seen it all before.”
My stomach flipped at the memories of spending our nights exploring each other.
Suddenly bashful, I slid his wet jeans down his body, kneeling to untie his shoes and pull everything off his legs and feet. When I reached for the waistband of his underwear, he stopped my hands. “M-maybe you haven’t seen everything,” he said shyly.
“Have you had bottom surgery?”
Shea shook his head and glanced toward his bag, where I’d tucked the vial of testosterone deep in the bottom. It hadn’t bothered me, nor did the side effects of the hormone. I smiled and tested the waters brushing a tender kiss across his thigh where his underwear ended. “It’s okay.”
He released my hands, and I slipped his boxer briefs down his legs.
Arousal was the furthest thing from my mind in that moment, because I had a Little who needed me. I reached behind me to the changing table, pulling a pack of fragrance-free wipes from one of the drawers and peeling it open.
As I cleaned him, I wondered when he’d discovered that he was a Little.
It wasn’t long after I went to my first kink club that I knew I was into age play, and that my ideal scenario was to be a full-time caregiver, but Shea had been the only person I ever saw myself having a life with.
It was truly unfair for anyone I dated after we split, because they paled in comparison.
“Have you had anything to eat?” I asked him. “Or to drink?”
Guilt flickered across pretty eyes, but I’d known the answer the moment I saw that vial of hormones. Sometimes the thought of trying to figure out which bathroom to use was too much to deal with, so you skipped eating or drinking to eliminate the problem entirely.
Only, the human body didn’t work that way.
I dressed Shea in some clean clothes and even tied his shoes—because my Da senses were on fire and after being separated for so long, I shamelessly wanted a few more private moments with him.
Once he was clean and dry, I put his wet clothes into a plastic bag and set them aside to be washed. “Wash your hands please,” I told him.
He turned his back to me to do so, but I didn’t miss the stolen glances he gave me in the mirror, blushing and ducking his head when he got caught. “I’m sorry,” he whispered while I washed myself.
“What for?”
“All of…” He gestured around the room. “—this. I shouldn’t have been caught so short.”
“Accidents happen, Shea. I promise you couldn’t have been in a better place for it.” Nerves flared in my gut with even the thought of my next question. “Are you here with anyone?”
He shook his head, and it was all I could do to mask a sigh of relief. “No, I’m alone. You?”
“Same.” Out of instinct, I shouldered his bag for him and led him out of the bathroom. “Come on. Let’s go finish the welcome spiel so you can have a proper shower and get some rest.”
Though before he could make it a few steps, Shea swayed and grabbed onto the wall for support. He didn’t need that stupid wall—my arm was right there to hold him. “Maybe we'll get you something to eat first.”
A nervous laugh bubbled out of Shea’s mouth. “I promise I’m not usually like this.”
“I know,” I said. I dropped his bag next to a table in the small dining area next to the store and pulled out a chair for him. “Road trips are hard for people like us.”
After planting him at a table with a Gatorade and a snack, I went back to the desk to grab his things. As I took inventory of everything to make sure it was what he needed, I felt a presence at my back.
Jordan.
“I know you’re standing there,” I murmured without looking over my shoulder. I wasn’t ready to face his inquisition.
Yes, I would have to eventually, but not later. Right now, I had so much catching up to do. But the feeling of someone standing behind me grew into something stronger when Jordan gave me “the look.”
The one that always read straight through my bullshit.
Sighing, I whirled on him with Shea’s welcome packet in my hands. “Remember that ex I told you about?”
“Mmhmm….”
I couldn’t bring myself to say the words out loud, so I just let my gaze wander to where Shea sat at the dining table, eyes on his phone.
“That’s them?”
“Him,” I corrected. Obviously, I’d use very different names and pronouns when talking about my ex before, but Jordan was aware enough to not repeat any of them now that he’d laid eyes on Shea. “We haven’t seen each other in like… ten years.”
Jordan, all fiery hair and broody eyes, quirked a brow at me, stroking his scruffy beard obnoxiously. “And now you’re both here…” He shrugged and walked away before I could deliver the smack I wanted so desperately to give him. “Kismet!”
If I heard him say that word one more time…
“Front desk is covered,” he said just before disappearing into his office. “Go do your thing.”
And then he was gone.
Shaking my head to clear it, I returned to Shea. Food and hydration brought more of the color back to his face, and I added a bottle of water to the mix for good measure. He wasn’t going to dehydrate on my watch.
When I sat down, Shea turned off his video and set his phone aside, face down to give me his full attention.
“Good boy.” The praise was out of my mouth before I could stop it, but Shea blushed and grinned at me.
I slid the welcome packet across the table and placed the tote bag on top of it.
“Are you ready?” At his nod, I went into the speech I’d given a hundred times that day.
“The folder only has copies of the paperwork you’ve already signed, so there’s nothing you need to do there.
Along with it is the code of conduct and a list of numbers you can use if you need someone.
Of course, since you’re here on your own, you can go to any member of camp staff wearing a uniform and they’ll help you, okay? ”
Shea nodded, flipping through the folder. “I’m just checking for—”
“We’re already prepared to handle your bee allergy. Every member of staff is required to carry an EpiPen at all times, and there’s one in each cabin as well as the dining hall and change rooms. All allergies are taken very seriously.”
Shea gave me an easy smile, unspoken words lingering in his glittering blue eyes.
Before I lost myself, I slid the tote bag his way.
“In here are just some fun Little things, but there are also colored wristbands and sweatbands to let people know your intentions about play—red for not interested, pink means interested but cautious, and we all can figure out green. There are pronoun stickers and badges as well based on the pronouns on your form, but if anything is wrong or those pronouns change at any time, just tell us and we can fix them for you.”
“Wow,” Shea breathed. “You guys really thought of everything.”
Pride swelled in my chest. This camp had been my idea, after all. They’d been cropping up all over the country, but this was the only one in our area, and the first for the nightclub that I owned. “We wanted this to be as inclusive as possible. Would you like me to show you to your cabin?”
Shea’s face completely lit up. His eyes shined bright enough to rival the sun pouring in from the windows behind him. My heart fluttered. God, I’d forgotten how much I’d loved that smile—the genuine one, that was reserved for those he deemed worthy. “I’d love that.”