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“Uh huh.” He shakes his head, and it’s only now that I notice the dark circles under his eyes. Concern immediately takes over and my amusement —and arousal— vanishes instantly.

“Are you okay?” I ask, reaching to cup his jaw. I smooth my thumb over the dark skin beneath his left eye. “You look tired. Stressed, even.”

He sighs and steps out of my reach, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just had a little argument with Lauren’s parents. It’s nothing.”

Hmm.

I still haven’t met Owen’s grandparents, but I know they have been helping pick Owen up after school and stuff.

I can only assume it has been a huge adjustment for Justin, uprooting his entire life so Owen could spend more time with his grandparents.

Going from being the sole carer of a kid to practically sharing custody with his former in-laws must be a stressful experience .

“I think maybe you need some Little time,” I eventually reply, letting the thoughts filter through a pros and cons list in my head before voicing the idea out loud.

Before he can protest and tell me it would be too weird with Owen in the house, or something to that effect, I add, “After Owen’s in bed, we’ll lock ourselves in your room and try to get you to let go for a bit.

Nothing too intense. And, if he wakes up and calls out, I can help him, okay? ”

Justin thinks about it for a long moment. The green in his hazel eyes looks more pronounced when he finally awards me with a slow nod. “Okay. I think…I think that would be good.”

***

Over dinner, where Owen happily catches me up on the things he has been doing at school, I consider what kind of activities might help Justin tonight.

I’d love to give him a bubble bath, but with only one bathroom in the house, that’s probably something better left for a night when Owen is at his grandparents’ place.

It’s only after Justin slips into Owen’s bedroom to tuck him in for the night that I decide mirroring the experience is the best option. I want tonight to be about relaxation for my Boy; I don’t want him getting all excited and fired up with silly games or invigorating play.

I choose his outfit from the bag stuffed in the back of his closet, and I pull Kelvin out from his hiding place as well.

Then I arrange a sippy cup of milk and wait for Justin in his bedroom.

I’ve linked my phone to the little speaker he keeps on his nightstand, and I’ve got soothing instrumental music playing in the background.

When he finally joins me, Justin pauses inside the doorway .

“Oh,” he murmurs quietly, taking in the scene I’m setting. The lamp on the nightstand is lit and emitting a soft, warm glow. The bedcovers are pulled back, and I have a selection of picture books sitting next to his sippy cup. Kelvin is propped up against his pillow.

“Have you gone potty and brushed your teeth?” I ask, and he bites his lip, shaking his head.

“Would you like Daddy to help you do that?” I ask, hoping that it might help guide him towards his Little headspace. It’s been happening a lot more easily for him the more regression time he gets to indulge in, but with how on edge he seemed tonight, I think it might help to give him a nudge.

He nibbles his lip and blushes. “Yes please, Daddy.”

“Good boy,” I praise, crossing the room to take his hand. “Let’s go.”

We make our way inside the bathroom quietly, and I help him pull down his shorts and underwear, then press up behind him as he stands in front of the toilet.

My hand wraps around the back of his and I help him aim into the bowl, then I let him go as he gives himself a couple of shakes, before offering him a few squares of toilet paper.

It’s a far cry from the first couple of times, where Little Justin insisted he could potty by himself.

We wash our hands together in a very similar fashion, and he giggles quietly when I rub the soap into a bubbly lather over his hands and then my own. The sound is music to my ears.

Making funny faces in the mirror as we brush our teeth in tandem, it’s almost like watching a switch get flipped in his head as he finally starts to let himself go towards his Little headspace .

“You brushed your teeth very well, sweetheart,” I say after we’ve rinsed and spat and wiped our faces clean and dry. “Daddy’s proud of you.”

His cheeks still turn a little bit pink at the praise, but he smiles widely. “Thank you, Daddy. You did a good job, too.”

Oh, my heart.

It’s innocuous little moments like these that really seem to hit me in the solar plexus, like I’ve been body checked by emotion.

And they still scare me a bit, because it’s too soon to name the emotion itself.

I’m not even sure my interpretation of it is correct, because I’ve never felt like this before.

I’ve thought Boys were adorable before. I’ve even felt flutters of affection and excitement for them. But this breath-stealing, almost-physical ache in my gut is wholly new and daunting.

It’s only been a couple of months —a handful of weeks, even— since we started dating.

I know that I’m Justin’s first ever serious relationship outside of the one he had with Owen’s mom, and the fact that I’m his first ever serious relationship with a guy shouldn’t make a difference… but in my head it still kind of does.

What if he’s not as invested as I am? He wasn’t looking for anything serious, so what if he decides it’s not actually what he wants after all?

And, yeah, I wasn’t looking for anything serious, either, but here I am, falling head over skates in lo—

Nope. I’m not jinxing this.

Getting Justin back into his room, I smile, playfully teasing and tickling him as I get him out of his grown-up clothes and into his penguin onesie. It’s his favorite, and I want to give him every possible opportunity to regress properly tonight .

Then I guide him into his bed, ignoring yet another one of those pangs when he cuddles Kelvin close to his chest and looks up at me like I hung the moon, and I slide under the covers beside him.

I’m still wearing my casual outfit of gray sweats and a soft cotton t-shirt with the team’s logo on the front, but the clothes are comfortable enough that I could sleep in them if I choose to. With Justin snuggling up against me like a warm, cuddly limpet, I just might do that.

Wrapping one arm around him, I hand him his sippy cup (ignoring the futility of having brushed his teeth only minutes earlier) and I grab the top book from the pile of choices.

These books are all for Justin only. I bought them for him, and we keep them separate from any which he might read with Owen.

We’ve found that keeping his interests and toys completely separate helps with his regression, and with not second-guessing or getting anxious about his kink and his personal life crossing over.

So, the books might be a bit unconventional for most Daddies, but they work for us.

“Go the fuck to sleep,” I read the title page of the first book from the pile, and Justin chuckles.

“That’s a naughty word, Daddy.”

“Sleep is not a naughty word.”

He giggles again.

And so we continue on.

***

“Thank you for last night,” Justin says the next morning when we’re getting dressed for school and work. “I feel so much better today.”

I’m proud of myself for getting him to relax and enjoy himself.

“Anytime, baby,” I bend to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

“I love being your Daddy.” The admission skirts dangerously close to naming the feeling that makes my heart pound in my chest. I clear my throat.

“But, uh, I have a favor to ask. And you can say no.”

“Okay…” He gives me a look not unlike the kind that he gives Owen when he’s expecting an explanation for some of the kid’s cheekier behavior.

At times like this, I’m reminded that he is actually the more adultier-adult in our relationship.

“My, uh, my family want to meet you. And Owen. And I know that’s asking a lot, because there are like a million of them, but…I would actually really like to introduce you to them, too.”

The look on his face gentles into understanding before he smiles. “Sure,” he shrugs. “When would they like us to visit?”

And there’s that feeling again.

Oh, I am in big trouble, I think to myself. But, strangely, I’m feeling good about it.