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I don't know how to react to how easily Gabe fits into our new lives.

Owen gives him a whole ten seconds to say hi and hand over the ingredients for dinner before taking his hand and pulling him to show off his room.

Owen is talking plenty loud enough and Gabe answers with the same enthusiasm that I don't bother following.

I smile when I hear Gabe asking specific questions about some of the toys.

He really is good with kids. I can see the whole Daddy thing and how it works for him.

Thoughts flash through my mind of our time at the club last week. I'm no stranger to a hook up, but what we did was something completely different. It felt different. Still feels different. Finding someone I'm attracted to is the last thing on my to-do list.

Actually, it wasn't even on the list.

After unpacking, the whole list went as follows: make sure my paperwork for work is in order, get Owen signed up for kindergarten and ready for the orientation next week. That’s it. That’s the list. And it’s a lot.

Also, I am not ready for Owen to start school; he's growing up too fast.

"What do you think you're doing?" Gabe's voice pulls me out of my thoughts and I look up. I know I look like a deer stuck in headlights. Gabe's smile is slightly lopsided, and I drop the noodles into the water.

"Cooking?" I say the word slowly and raise the end of it like a question. "Was I not supposed to? You handed me the bag, so I just assumed."

"I handed you the bag because Owen was pulling me away.

" Gabe crosses the open space and stands inches away from me.

A warm hand encases my hip. My glance shoots towards the living room and hallway, confirming that Owen isn't in sight.

"I didn't come over here for you to cook, sweetheart.

I'm doing all the heavy lifting tonight.

" His fingers trail slowly up under the hem of my shirt.

It's a small touch but shivers rush through my body.

"Why don't you get out of these jeans and find a movie for all of us to watch? "

"Okay." My voice is barely above a whisper, but my dick is definitely making some noise. Well, if dicks made noise.

Gabe's hand drops and he winks at me before turning toward the stove and hip checking me to move out of the way.

I walk past my bedroom door and peek into Owen's room.

His head is hidden in a shirt and I'm pretty sure his pajama pants are on backward.

The sight is adorable. I lean against the doorframe with my arms crossed and watch the struggle to get his head through the correct hole.

He gives me a bright smile when he sees me.

"Gabe said we're going to have spaghetti with balls tonight!" Owen says excitedly. I feel my cheeks immediately redden with embarrassment.

I hear Gabe cough in the kitchen and lean back to look at him across the house. I love that it's a clear line of sight from one end to the other. His expression is one of holding back laughter. I turn back to my son .

"It's called spaghetti and meat balls," I correct Owen.

His little head bobs, but he ploughs on with the conversation. "Gabe says we're going to watch a movie too. Is he staying with us?"

I brush away the mental image of the three of us living together. It is much too soon for even a thought like that. We don't know each other's middle names yet! But after calling him Daddy, some part of me has run far, far ahead of any kind of rational thought.

"He's going to be here for a little bit today," I answer, moving into his room and shutting the door behind me.

This conversation is something I'd prefer Gabe not overhear.

I squat down in front of Owen, lifting my arm to fix his mess of curls.

"Are you okay with him being here? He's Daddy's friend, but this is your house too, buddy. "

"I like him here," Owen says. "He asked me about all my toys and he tells jokes about dads."

I am somewhat of a Master in Owen-ese. ‘Jokes about dads’ means Dad Jokes. I can’t imagine what Gabe told him, but my son's laughter is a good sign.

I stand back up with the weight of that off my shoulders. "I'm going to change into my pajamas too, then we can pick out a movie together, okay?"

"Happy Feet!" Owen jumps up and down, giving a little dance move in excitement. "Penguins, please."

We've watched Happy Feet three times this week alone. I don't mind it, though, because I love the movie just as much as he does. Sometimes, I’ve even watched it without him.

"You can go out and ask Gabe if he wants to watch it, but fix your pants first, buddy. They're backwards. Remember how I told you that the little tag goes on your bottom?"

** *

The house smells like garlic when I walk out of my own bedroom in a pair of gray sweats and a white t-shirt. I don't own any real sets of pajamas. Heat courses through me when I catch Gabe giving me an up-and-down onceover.

Owen is sitting at the island holding a slice of bread. It's the basic sandwich slice type and it's cut in half. Owen is truly glowing as he chews with his mouth wide open. "Daddy! Gabe gave me garlic bread! It's so yummy!"

"I cut it in half," Gabe says quickly. "He said he never had it and I don't know if that's true or not. Figured he could have the other half with his spaghetti…which will be ready in just a minute. I hope you don't mind I used your air fryer for the meatballs. I cleaned it already."

"The air fryer is a lifesaver," I say. "And it's okay with the bread. I don't think I've given it to him before, but he doesn't have any allergies. I would have told you if he did. On sandwich bread, though?"

I sit at the island next to Owen. I stifle a laugh when Owen takes an exaggerated bite, making a chomping noise as he bites into the bread.

"It's how my mom made it when I was growing up," Gabe says.

I look back at him, admiring the way he steps around the kitchen area with ease.

"Impromptu garlic bread when it would take too long to make langos .” The word rolls off his tongue in a wholly different accent.

Something European. I want to ask him about it, but he continues, “Toast the bread, spread some butter, and sprinkle garlic salt. It was a last second decision. "

"If I don't have to cook, I don't care what you do in this kitchen."

"Daddy, Gabe says we can watch the penguins." Owen interrupts. "He showed me pictures of a big penguin dancing."

"He did?" I keep my voice light, like it's the coolest thing Owen has ever told me.

"Alright, you two," Gabe interrupts us, "I hope you're hungry."

***

I wake up on Tuesday morning to Owen's alarm in his room.

He's only five, but he fell in love with the duck light that doubles as an alarm clock.

It quacks to wake him up. I want to throw it every morning, but I can hear him imitating the noise after he turns it off.

A few seconds later, my door cracks open and he climbs into my bed.

"Daddy, wake up!" I pretend to still be asleep. I can feel Owen climb on top of me, his little hands pressed to my chest. "Wake up! We go to school today!"

He has two weeks before he starts school, but they're doing an orientation for the new class grade today. They will be showing the parents around the school and the kids where everything is in their classroom.

Owen bounces right on my bladder and I let out an involuntary grunt. He finds this hilarious.

We get our day started by brushing our teeth together.

I put him in a bath and, afterward, attempt to style his hair a bit.

It’s an ‘A for effort’ situation. I dress in a pair of slacks and a button up short sleeve.

I want to make a good impression. Owen, on the other hand, decides to go full Paw-Patrol with his shirt and shoes.

We compromise on the blue shorts to match Chase .

"Do you want to see where Daddy's going to be working?" I ask once we're buckled in the car. The sun is still rising, but the temperature is already in the high seventies and getting hotter by the minute. I crank the AC in the car.

"Yes!"

It isn't a terrible drive through Phoenix to get to my new workplace.

I imagine the traffic will be thicker when schools start back up, but today it only takes twenty minutes to navigate around neighborhoods and businesses.

I pull over to the side of the road when we get to the large, rectangular building.

It has a dome-like top and there's a fence erected around the whole thing.

"I'll be working here, buddy."

"That is huge!" Owen exclaims from the backseat. I look over my shoulder and laugh at the gaped expression his mouth is left in. "Can I come to work with you one day?"

"Maybe, buddy. Let's get you to your school."

My thoughts travel back to Friday night when Gabe came over. We did end up watching Happy Feet. Owen fell asleep between us, his head in my lap and feet in Gabe's. I carried him to bed and tucked him in while the credits rolled.

After that, Gabe and I spent two hours talking, sharing small touches, and possibly a quiet make-out session at some point between.

He answered each of my questions, and I had a lot.

We talked about scenes versus lifestyle Littles, specific things that Gabe likes or doesn’t like to do from his experience, and aspects I may have Googled and found interesting.

Gabe even showed me a website where you can buy clothing and other items to fully indulge in age play.

On it, there are all sorts of things, from stuffies and train sets, to bottles and blocks aimed at a younger regression.

There are also diapers, which I don’t think I’d enjoy.

The training pants and underwear are kind of cute, though.