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How the hell have Justin and I never had the ‘what do you do for work’/’what do you do at college’ conversation?

My mind is blown at seeing him in my locker room and blown further still at being told that he’s our new physical therapist…

and also the guy I’m supposed to be tailing for my practical experience.

At least I know we get along…

The thought makes me smile as I pack up my gear and head out of the arena.

We’re obviously overdue a serious discussion about how life is going to work around college, as well as his job and kid, and it’s more vital now than ever that we have that talk.

But, even though seeing him today threw me for a loop, it excites me, too.

I mean, I kind of get to work with my boyfriend. And we obviously have more in common than either of us realized, too.

“What’s that smile for?” Marshall asks when I drop my bag inside the doorway of the apartment Iz and I share. My friends are all lounging on the couch, a box of pizza open in front of them.

My stomach rumbles at the sight of the food, but I force myself to grab a healthier snack —a sandwich container filled with precut veggie sticks and a tiny tub of ranch dressing— and I drop into my usual armchair.

The melty cheese and pepperoni are out of my reach, and I tell myself the carrots taste way better than the pizza smells. (I’m lying to myself.)

Izzy leans over from the couch and smacks my knee. “You were spoken to,” he reprimands.

Crunching on a piece of celery, I chew before looking at Marshall. “Sorry, man. I was on a mission and not listening.”

He smiles widely and waves my apology away with a large hand. “Nah, I was just asking why you had that goofy smile on your face when you came in.”

“Oh,” I chuckle, “right. Turns out the guy I’ve been dating…Justin?”

“The one with the kid,” Noah mumbles with a mouth full of carbs and cheese.

I scrunch my nose. “Yeah, the one with a kid…a kid who has way better manners than you, by the way.”

Noah shrugs.

“What about Justin?” Marshall leans forward, all wide-eyed and invested in whatever I have to say.

“It turns out he’s the team’s new physical therapist. Well,” I frown, “maybe not exclusively for the team. He might be there for the football team, too. We didn’t really get to talk about it…but he’s also the guy Coach told me I should shadow for my practical credits.”

“And that’s not gonna be awkward for you?” Israel arches an eyebrow. “I mean, considering your dynamic...”

“He’s not Daddy when they’re on the ice or whatever, though,” Noah answers before I can.

The guys are all aware of my kink and they’re cool with it, even if Iz happens to be the only one who I know to also have less-than-vanilla interests. Still, it’s a surprise that Noah seems to have done some research about it. Well, either that or a lucky guess.

“What he said,” I tilt my head to Noah, who is sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Marshall’s seat. “In the club or in our private lives, I’m Daddy, but I’m not one of those guys who gets all macho and offended if his sub or Little is superior to him in public.”

“It’s not like you’ve had to experience it yet, though,” Izzy argues. He leans into Marshall’s space so he can snag a slice of the pie before it’s all gone. Before he takes a bite, he adds, “It might be an issue without you even knowing it. And if it’s not for you, it might be for him.”

“Oh, true,” Marshall nods enthusiastically.

“I read that some subs want their Dom —or their Daddy— to always be the one in control, in and out of the bedroom.” He cocks his head, his nose scrunching as his face contorts into a thoughtful expression.

“Justin seemed like the kind of guy who likes it when someone else takes over for him. Well, he did when we moved him into his house. And, hey,” he pouts, “wasn’t he going to have us over for dinner? ”

“He’s had a lot going on,” I assure my friend. “I’m kind of responsible for a lot of his distraction. But I’ll remind him.” If nothing else, Justin could use more friends. Friends who aren’t also his Daddy. And my friends are pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.

Marshall beams. “Please? We can do a potluck kind of thing so he doesn’t have to do all the work or spend a heap of money to feed us.”

“That’s really thoughtful, Marsh,” Izzy commends softly, taking the words right out of my mouth.

As Marshall preens under Israel’s praise, Noah and I share another one of our ‘when are they going to get their act together?’ looks. The thing is, I’m not even sure either one of them know that they’re into men or, if not men in general, each other.

“You gonna have a slice?” Noah asks me, nudging the pizza box my way. I frown at it and dip another carrot stick into my ranch.

“Nah,” I wave the dripping carrot stick in the air, “I’m good. You should go for it.”

I’m not unaware of the looks that Noah and Izzy share, but they don’t get it: I need to stay lean to stay fast on my skates. I’m agile, and it won’t stay that way if I weigh myself down with grease and cheese.

“Your loss,” Marshall tells me, oblivious to the silent conversation our friends are having. He grabs himself the second to last slice and munches down happily. “Mmm, pizza.”

***

“This was a great idea,” Justin tells me as I help him carry a bowl of salad to the outdoor table. It’s already laden with a couple other salads, scalloped potatoes, and the steaks and hot dogs hot off the grill.

Out in the tiny square patch of backyard, Owen squeals and pushes his little legs as hard as he can to outrun the college-aged guys “chasing” him for the ball in his arms. His little rounded cheeks are red from exertion, and his mop of red hair is plastered to his head from sweat, but he’s wearing a huge grin.

“Yeah,” I say as I watch my friends entertaining the kid, “thank you for having the guys over. They’ve been looking forward to it. Marshall especially.”

My Boy smiles and his gaze drifts over to watch the guys entertaining his son. Marshall has switched teams and is planting himself in between the other two and Owen, dramatically yelling “Run, O! Save yourself!”

Justin snorts. “He’s a big kid, too, huh?”

“Yep. He’s actually studying to be a grade-school teacher.”

“It suits him.”

"I think so, too." Marshall is a big goofball with a heart of gold who loves kids even more than I do.

“I’m surprised you didn’t have other plans for Labor Day, though,” Justin adds, still watching the guys horse around. “When I was in college, it seemed like everyone always took advantage of the holiday and partied hard. I mean, not me, because I had Owen, but…”

I shrug. “We’re not big on the party scene.

I prefer to go to Kik if I want to dance, Noah has some social anxiety and prefers smaller gatherings, and Iz…

well,” I look at the big guy, my lips quirking affectionately.

“He’s not a people person. Not unless you’re in his circle.

” I look back at Justin, whose own lips have turned down into an adorable frown. “Which you are now, by the way.”

He blinks in surprise. “What?”

“He wouldn’t have come to hang out if he didn’t like you. Izzy is one of those brutally honest types, you know?”

“So…him being here means he wants to be my friend?” There’s a hint of something in his voice which I would call his Little side, even if we haven’t really gotten to explore much of that since that first night at Kik.

“It does,” I nod, while ideas of how we can spend our night start to circle in my brain. We’ve prearranged for me to stay the night, with Owen’s grandparents picking him up later this afternoon.

As much as I enjoy having Owen around, I’m more than excited to get Justin to myself for the night.

When we were planning the evening, we discussed an array of ways we could spend tonight, including exploring our dynamic as Daddy and Boy.

And, now that Justin sounds like he could be ready to regress, I hope that is what he wants to do tonight.

To be honest, I think he needs it. The past couple of weeks since the fall semester started, he’s been getting edgy.

I don’t know if he’s got more of an issue with working with me than he originally let on, or if there’s more going on in his home life stressing him out than he has told me, but I think letting go and being Little will help ease some of that stress…

assuming he wants to give it another go.

I wasn’t lying when I told him that I wanted to date him either way. He’s been so cute in calling me Daddy, but if he has changed his mind and that’s all he wants to do, that’s okay, too.

Still, that hasn’t stopped me from planning just in case.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, pulling me out of my distracted musings.

“Tonight,” I answer honestly, and I love the way a pink blush spreads over his cheeks.

“I forgot what having a twenty-two-year-old libido is like.”

I can’t help snorting. “Uh, you’re not that much older than me, baby. But, no, I wasn’t thinking about sex.” Although… Images flicker through my mind and I smother a groan, willing my cock to stay down. “But, thanks; now I am. That’s your fault.”

He laughs, catching the guys’ attention. Marshall’s eyes light on the table and he cheers, “Food!”

“Go wash up first,” Justin and I say in unison, which makes Noah snort and even Iz smirks.

Owen leads the trio through the house and Justin asks, “Okay, but what were you thinking about, then? ”

“I was thinking about the bag of stuff I have in my car,” I shrug, “and how I can’t wait to show you what I’ve bought you.

I know you felt weird about being Little and using Owen’s stuff —which, y’know, totally fair— so I’ve bought Little Justin some stuff.

But only if you want to try being Little again. No pressure.”

“Oh.” He bites his lip and his blush deepens. “I think I’d like that.”