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"I know that now," Matty replied. "Most of the time, anyway. It was that experience that made me get my own place… such as it was."
He got a kiss for that confession and I got a smile.
We ate in silence for a few minutes, both processing. I wanted to ask about Degrassi, about what he'd done, but I didn't want to push too far.
"Can I ask you something?" Matty said suddenly.
"Anything."
"How much experience have you had before? I get Dom vibes from you, but is that recent, or…”
I hesitated, setting down my fork. "I've been in the lifestyle on and off for about ten years, but it's been... situational."
"What does that mean?" Matty asked, genuine curiosity in his eyes.
"It means I've had Dom tendencies with certain partners, but I've never been in a formal Dom relationship." I met his gaze directly. "What happened with you these past few days—that was new territory for me."
"Yet you seemed to know exactly what to do," Matty observed.
I shrugged slightly. "I followed my instincts. And Bolt gave me some guidance."
Matty's cheeks flushed. "I'm still embarrassed about that."
"Don't be," I said firmly. "Your Little side is beautiful, Matty. The way your face lights up when you're coloring, how carefullyyou introduce your stuffies to each other—it's a gift to witness that kind of joy."
His blush deepened, but I could see him processing my words, perhaps reconsidering his shame.
"When I was deployed," I continued, sensing he needed to hear more, "I saw the worst of humanity. The cruelty people are capable of. Coming home was...difficult." I paused, gathering my thoughts. "Finding the lifestyle, discovering I could provide structure and safety for someone who trusted me completely—it helped heal something in me. I wish I'd had time for more."
"So you're saying my Little side is therapeutic for you?" Matty asked with a hint of playfulness.
I smiled, recognizing the defense mechanism. "I'm saying we might be good for each other in ways neither of us expected."
He looked down at his plate, pushing the remaining pasta around with his fork. "And if I don't go into that headspace again?"
"Then we figure out what works for us as we are now," I replied simply. "No pressure either way." But I honestly didn’t think that door was closed. Sure, it might have cracked wide open when he was stressed, but I’d bet when Matty learned to trust the safe space I could create, he would find it easier to let go. I wanted his Little side to be fun, and not so much a trauma response. Right now he was embarrassed and panicking.
Matty nodded slowly, then looked up with determination in his eyes. "I want to help bring Harold down. Not just hide while you and the club do all the work."
The sudden change of subject surprised me and I immediately tamped down the initial alarm, but I recognized the importance of his request. "What do you have in mind?"
"I don't know," Matty said, his jaw set with determination. "But I can't hide forever. And I want to help."
I considered his words, weighing the immediate sick feeling of him putting himself in danger with his need for some self-respect. "Whatever we do we do, we do it carefully."
"Thank you," Matty said, genuine relief in his voice. "For taking me seriously."
"I've always taken you seriously," I replied, reaching across the table to cover his hand with mine. "Even when you were building block towers with Patches supervising."
He rolled his eyes, but the tension had broken. As we finished dinner, we chatted about growing up. Matty listened attentively.
"My mom would have loved you," I said honestly.
"I miss the idea of her," Matty replied, and his brutal honesty slayed me.
"I bet you were cute growing up," I said with a smile.
"I was a little shit at school," he admitted. "I wasn't big enough to intimidate physically so I learned how to bully verbally."