Page 35

“I’m sorry you lost the game,” Justin says, leaning into my side as half the team chases Owen around the small backyard.

I shrug. “It’s fine. The other team played better. And, no,” I give him a little squeeze, pre-empting his concerns, “it wasn’t because I was distracted by wanting to be at the courthouse with you.”

I mean, I did want to be there, but I knew things would be fine.

“I hope not,” he sighs. “It’s nice that the team cares so much, though. I can’t believe so many of you turned up.”

“Yeah, well, I was kind of anxious, and because they’re still hung up on the idea of having a ‘small human shower’ for the kid I’ve accidentally procured” —I can’t help chuckling at how hung up on the idea they still are— “they wanted to celebrate you winning the custody thing.”

“But…how could you be so sure I was going to win?”

Smiling, I tell him, “For one, your lawyer was super confident. And secondly, I knew that any judge with half a brain would be able to see what an awesome dad you are.”

Justin hums softly. “Hmm. I wasn’t as sure that would happen.”

“I know. It was scary. And stressful. But it’s over now.”

“Thank God,” he slumps against me, as if he needed to hear the finality spoken out loud.

“No. Actually,” he tilts his head up to look at me with wet eyes that tug at my heartstrings, “thank you , Daddy. I couldn’t have gotten through all of this without you.

And you turning up to the courthouse today… it really means a lot to me.”

“Baby…”

“No, no, I need to say this. I…I know that in the past couple of months we haven’t had much of a chance to” —he lowers his voice— “ play . And I know this all got so serious really quickly, and you’re only twenty-two, and I know how scary it is when things get serious at that age.”

“Justin…”

His glance drifts to Owen. He was my age when he was born and changed his whole world. “And there’s no expectation that you should saddle yourself with all of this—”

“I love you.”

Justin inhales sharply and the moisture in his eyes wells over.

Before he can say anything, I gently tug him inside the house so we can share the moment in private.

“I love you,” I repeat softly, allowing the once terrifying emotion to fill me up and warm my insides.

“I turned up to the courthouse because I love you. I will always turn up for you. And for Owen. I love him too, baby. So much. You are a package deal, and this is me signing up for a lifetime subscription.”

Justin lets out a watery bubble of laughter. “Dork.” The amusement on his gorgeous face softens into a reflection of everything I am feeling for him. “Gabe…” he starts, then stops and licks his lips, giving his head a little shake. “I love you, too, Daddy.”

I smile, so happy to hear those words returned.

Then we’re kissing, and I’m backing him up against the nearest wall, and the sounds of raucous laughter from outside fade away.

With our ‘I love you’s still on the tips of our tongues, the kisses almost feel different again.

New. Renewed with excitement and the relief of Justin winning the custody dispute.

The past few months have been rough, and I know that we still have the realities of me finishing out my final year of college and working out what the actual fuck I’m going to do afterwards ahead of us, but I am giddy with excitement for everything that we can build together after I graduate.

“Whoa,” Mason’s voice sounds out behind me, filled with amusement and a hint of cheek, “there are little eyes here, guys.”

“Daddy and Daddy Gabe always kiss,” Owen’s little chipmunk voice replies with the kind of exasperation only a five-year-old can project. “That’s what I told the judge man.”

Justin is shaking and I pull back a little, concerned that he might be upset at Owen’s reminder of what they went through, but I’m glad to see that he’s just trying to contain his laughter.

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, I release him from the wall and turn around to face my teammate and his grinning co-conspirator.

“We kiss all the time because we love each other,” I tell them, a grin stretching my lips at how good it feels to say it openly.

I don’t know why the concept scared me so much before.

There’s nothing more wonderful than knowing Justin loves me.

I want to shout it from the rooftops. Then I look down at Justin’s redheaded miniature and make grabby hands in his direction. “And I love you, too, kiddo.”

He squeals with delight, already catching on to my plan. “You can’t kiss me if you can’t catch me!” he cries as he takes off running outside again.

“You’ll slow down at some point!” I yell right after him, earning another laugh from Justin .

As we head back out to join the others, I think about how much has changed for me in such a small time and how happy I am now.

***

My wonderful, amazing, superior, intelligent, super thoughtful sister takes Owen to her house for a sleepover playdate on Saturday. She winks at me when she picks him up, telling me to enjoy reconnecting with my man.

She is definitely my favorite of all my siblings.

Even though Justin has spent the past few months stressing about letting Owen out of his sight, even he seems grateful for the break we’ve been offered.

A big part of that is probably because, aside from nighttime stories and short scenes in his bedroom, he hasn’t had much of a chance to be Little.

With all the stress he’s gone through, I know he could use some proper regression time to really let go.

“What do you want to do today, baby?” I ask him after Mandy’s car has reversed out of his driveway. “Or do you want Daddy to plan a day of all your favorite Little things?”

“I’d like that,” he says, but then his teeth sink into his lip and I frown.

“But…?”

His cheeks turn pink. “I, um, can we…I mean, I know we briefly mentioned it a while ago, but…”

Closing the front door, I take him by the hand and gently push him to sit down on the couch in his living room. Sitting beside him, I encourage, “You want to try something new? ”

He nods, swallowing roughly. His fingers tangle in the hem of his t-shirt as he fidgets. “I…I want to, um…can we…can we try an accidental wetting scene?”

A thrill of anticipation shoots through my body.

He’s right: we did talk about it a long time ago but never got a chance to explore it further with everything that happened.

And yet it was his trust and vulnerability the first time he asked which made me realize how serious my own feelings had become, and now that we’ve exchanged declarations of love…

well, I can’t think of a more perfect time for this, really.

“I’d love that,” I answer him honestly, watching him relax with my easy answer. “How do you see it playing out?”

We talk through his options, and eventually he decides that going with my original idea of regressing as usual and enjoying all of his favorite Little activities will feel the most natural.

I’ll get him extra drinks while we play, and I won’t remind him to go to the potty.

Whatever happens from there is up to how deeply regressed and comfortable he feels: we’re not going to force the scene to go any particular way.

“I’ll probably feel really embarrassed,” he says as we talk about comfort levels and re-confirm safe words. “But…I’m kind of excited about it, too. Is that weird?”

“Not at all,” I assure him. “There’s something really liberating in giving up complete control.

It’s why so many people who like wearing diapers use them when they’re regressed.

I know you’re not interested in that,” I add, smiling, “but we’ll see how you feel after today.

You might really like the idea of trying potty training play or pushing the limits of your bladder and seeing if you can make it to the potty in time, that kind of thing.

Because you know that, no matter what, your Daddy won’t be angry or annoyed, and I will really enjoy getting you all cleaned up again. ”

He squirms, his cheeks pink again. “Can I wear my training pants today, Daddy? I’m a big boy.”

I’m not surprised that he’s already sinking into his headspace. He’s been anxious to do so ever since Mandy texted to say she was kidnapping Owen to give us some much-needed grownup time.

If only she knew.

“No pull-up?” I ask him indulgently. “Just in case?”

He gives me one of his sassy little eyerolls. “I’m a big boy. I don’t need a pull-up.” Even as he says it, he blushes again. We both know that he’s lying about that today.

I lead him into his room and let him pick his outfit. Surprising me, he chooses puppies instead of penguins. Then I realize that he’s leaving me the option to dress him in his penguins later.

Normally, I would tell him to go potty before we start playing, but today I stick to the plan we’ve discussed. As I help him into his training pants, I ask him one more time about his safe words, and he responds with a sweet, “Still green, Daddy.”

We start by playing cars in the living room, and he guzzles a sippy cup of apple juice happily. It gets refilled with water, and he drinks that more slowly when we switch to playing with a train set I bought for him during an away game not too long ago.

“Toot toot!” he cheers, watching the battery-operated train chugging around the plastic track. “Look, Daddy, it’s going under the bridge!”

“You did a very good job building that bridge,” I tell him, having enjoyed watching him construct it with his small collection of blocks, his tongue peeking out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated .

He wriggles a bit, and I watch him carefully, though he hasn’t had that much to drink yet, and we’ve barely begun playing. I guess I’m as excited for this new experience as he is, especially when it could happen at any time. A pleasant sense of anticipation bubbles away in my gut.