Page 5

CHAPTER FIVE

NICO

Rory

OMG! Nico, welcome to the group chat.

Jakob

I’m so glad you’re here. I had no idea you were a little. You don’t seem like a little.

Owen

I don’t even know what that means, Jakob. Also, welcome again, Nico.

Anders

Hey, Nico, sorry for the delay in adding you to the chat. I was caught up at work and didn’t look at the text. It’s my fault it took so long.

Nico

No worries.

Jakob

OMG! Anders, are we muted?

Anders

If you weren’t muted, would I get anything done?

Rory

Ouch! That kind of hurts my feelings.

Anders

Bestie Boo, I’ve had you muted for years. It’s not personal to the chat.

Rory

How am I just finding this out now?

Anders

I don’t know how to answer that question for you, but I still love you—mostly.

Jakob

I want in on the love.

Owen

Guys, we’re supposed to make Nico feel welcome.

Jakob

You are correct. Nico, do you want in on the love from Anders even though he mutes us?

Nico

I wasn’t aware Anders was offering to pass out the love. Is there a newsletter I have to sign up for?

Anders

No newsletter. No fee.

Rory, if you didn’t text me nonstop to tell me what you’re having for breakfast, it would help.

Rory

I thought you cared about what I have for breakfast.

Anders

If I tell you the truth, will you be sad?

Rory

Like devastated.

Anders

In that case, I’m fascinated by your breakfast choices. Please tell me more.

Rory

Thank you for asking. It was scrambled eggs, toast, and extra protein.

Anders

Dammit, Rory, this is why I mute you.

Owen

My eyes.

Jakob

I am a youngster. A youngster!

Nico

Oh god, maybe this was a bad idea.

Rory

No, no, no. It’s a great idea, and I won’t make jokes like that again. We didn’t even do anything this morning. It was last night.

Owen

Rory, you did it again.

Anders

This is what we’re talking about, Rory.

Jakob

Heh

Rory

I’m sorry. Nico, don’t delete.

Nico

I’m down for Vegas rules.

Rory

What’s said in chat, stays in chat? Yes.

Owen

I vote yes.

Anders

Yes

Jakob

Yes

Nico

We’re good.

* * *

“Hey, Ma,” I called as I walked in the back door. As expected, she stood over the stove, stirring a pot of something. They must have gone grocery shopping recently because bulk items were stacked on the floor waiting to be put away. No one loved a deal more than my parents. They treated saving a buck like an Olympic sport, and their abilities were impressive.

“Nico!” she exclaimed as if she hadn’t seen me in months instead of only a week since I’d moved out. It had been tense between us since I announced my intention to move out and then did it the following day. Admittedly, it was abrupt.

My assurances that it had nothing to do with them and everything to do with my need to be independent had fallen on closed ears. They weren’t having it. Regardless of their absurdness, I hadn’t left the country and moved halfway around the world. It was across town, and it was less than a fifteen-minute drive, maybe twenty, with traffic.

In the time I’d been gone, Ma texted me daily to ask if I had enough food in the house. She didn’t need to know that I hadn’t gotten around to grocery shopping, so obviously, the answer was a lie. Until I found time to go shopping, I was getting by on takeout.

All that convenience was taking a hit on my bank account. This morning, I made a legitimate promise to get real food this weekend. I should have scooped up all the times my ma had offered to teach me to cook, but I’d never gotten around to it. My repertoire of dishes was sadly lacking. I could make three things: spaghetti from a jar, mac and cheese from a box, and tacos.

“Smells good. What are you making?”

“Your father said he wanted some Guinness stew and rolls.”

“You know you’re not Irish, right?” I teased her and snagged a sip of the broth from the ladle she’d just put on the counter.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t need to be Irish to like stew and fresh bread,” Ma said with a laugh. After our tense conversations about me moving out, it was nice to see her laughing again.

“Where are Copy and Paste?”

“Nico.” Ma sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t call them that. It’s rude.” I schooled my features into an appropriate apologetic-adjacent expression. She wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t thrilled to have her point it out.

“You’re right, Ma. Where are Luca and Leo?”

“They’re on their way home. We’re celebrating tonight, and they wanted you to be here for it.” I rolled my eyes at that line. They hadn’t given a damn about me before, so I wasn’t sure why it mattered now. If they weren’t brothers, I’d wonder if there wasn’t some mutual pining.

They were a pair. I was a singleton.

“How’s work going?” As much as Ma wasn’t thrilled over my decision not to attend college, she adored Gabe and fawned over him every time they ran into each other. She stopped by the office occasionally to meet me for lunch, and he always took the time to flirt with her. It was beyond cringe. I wanted to die every time, but they enjoyed themselves. Last time, Rory was there and fell off his chair laughing at their antics. I was the only one bothered by it, so I kept my mouth shut.

“It’s fantastic. We’ve got some great projects coming up, but our in-house project manager decided to move back to Ohio or Idaho… I don’t remember exactly, but it’s one of those ending-in- O states. Anyway, she did it fast, so I’m taking care of some of it while Gabe looks for another person.”

I loved this part of our relationship—Ma and I talking without interruption or competition for attention from anyone else while she worked in the kitchen. Since I never took her up on the offers to cook, I mostly just watched or stirred things, but it was our time.

“What does a project manager do?” Ma asked as she began chopping vegetables for a salad. The methodical thunk on the cutting board seemed unnaturally loud in the quiet room.

“They manage the scheduling and deadlines. Mostly, they’re the point of contact for the project and keep the cats herded. Why?” While I answered, I jumped onto the counter so it would be easier to sneak snacks off the cutting board. I wasn’t as slick as I hoped. The smack on my knuckles for swiping one too many tomatoes hurt.

“Jesus, Ma. That hurt,” I whined and rubbed away the sting.

“Stop stealing the good stuff.”

“Copy and—” Her cleared throat interrupted me. “I mean, Leo and Luca don’t even like tomatoes.”

“I do, and so does your dad. Leave some for the rest of us.” With a threatening wave of her knife—safety first wasn’t the rule in her kitchen—she returned to her chopping. “So they manage and organize and make sure people who need to know things know the things?”

“I mean, that’s oversimplified, but yeah.” Ma’s voice was deceptively casual.

“That sounds like what you do.”

“Not really. I keep Gabe’s calendar and straighten out filing systems.”

“When I picked you up for lunch the other day, you were meeting with someone and talking about deadlines and whatnot when you came out of the conference room.” She wasn’t wrong, but I was lost on the point.

They’d never taken much interest in my job except to complain that I hadn’t gone to college. As much as it irritated me, I knew it was because they loved me. She was a customer service rep, and my dad worked in a warehouse. They’d both been laid off at least once, although my dad had been several times when the warehouse was between larger contracts. They wanted me to have more security than what they’d had.

“Why not apply for it yourself?” Ma’s nonchalant tone was so fake that I was forced to give her the look . The one that said I knew what she was doing and she needed to back off.

“That’s not how it works, Ma.”

“Why? If you’re good enough to do it sometimes, why not all the time?” She had me there. Fortunately for me, Copy and Paste interrupted our discussion, and I happily tabled it so their big announcement could take center stage.

“Hey, the baby has come home for a visit,” Copy, a.k.a. Luca, shouted as he entered the kitchen. He was still tall. He was still toned. He was still blond. It was still unfortunate. He pulled me off the counter and gave me a noogie. Unfortunately, seeing how he had a solid six inches on me, I had no chance of shoving him off me. It didn’t stop me from wrestling him, though, trying anyway.

“I’m sure your brother doesn’t want to hang out here all night since he doesn’t want to live with us anymore.” And there it was. “So go set the dinner.”

“That is not why I moved. I love you. I just want a little bit of space.”

“I don’t understand why you couldn’t have space here.”

“Space means more than not asking me where I’m going. Anyway, it doesn’t matter because I love my new place. It’s convenient to work and super cute. You should come see it, Ma.”

“Have I been invited?”

“No, you haven’t. How about next Sunday you come over for dinner and bring Nonna.”

“Do you know how to cook anything? Do I need to bring dinner when I come to dinner at your house?”

“Ma, I’ve been practicing my cooking, and I’ll have a fantastic dinner for you. It’s gonna be great. You, Dad, and Nonna are gonna love it.”

“Are the rest of us not invited?” Copy hadn’t followed instructions to leave the kitchen after all but stood in the doorway looking nonchalant instead.

“I’m sure you’re gonna be working.”

“Next Sunday? Nah, I’ll be off, and so is Leo. We can all join you for dinner. I, for one, can’t wait to try your cooking. It’ll be amazing, right?” His smirk told me he knew I was full of shit. How hard would it be to go to Costco and get a family meal and pretend I cooked? An excellent plan, except Ma knew every meal at Costco, so she would recognize it. Goddammit, I was gonna have to fucking cook. Luca went to grab Leo, and we all sat down at the table.

“Boys, do you want to tell us your news?” my dad asked with a mouth full of meatloaf.

“John, don’t talk with food in your mouth. How are we supposed to set an example?”

My dad looked at Ma as if she had grown two heads, and then, around a mouthful of meatloaf, he said, “Are you kidding me? How old do you think they are?”

Copy and Paste were hooting like loons, and even I had to crack a smile. Ma insisted on treating us like we were still in junior high, and my father was ready to push us out of the nest. None of us would live at home if it were up to him. He was the only person who wasn’t surprised when I said I was moving out. He shook my hand, gave me twenty bucks, and said, “Buy a pizza tonight because you’re probably gonna be tired.”

My dad was fucking awesome. My mom was awesome too—nosy, pushy, and intrusive because she didn’t want her children to grow up but still awesome. They had the kind of marriage I knew I’d never be lucky enough to get. They bickered because it entertained them, but they loved each other fiercely. I knew myself, and there was no way in hell I was destined for what they had. It was too perfect to be believed. It was love at first sight during their sophomore year in high school, and it had never been anyone else for them.

“We applied for a work program that will allow us to finish our remaining intern hours under hospital supervision while being paid as practitioners. We were both accepted. I’ll be working in the emergency room,” Luca proudly announced.

“Same,” Leo added.

Ma jumped up from the table and rushed to them, hugging them at the same time. She had tears streaming down her face, and I knew they were happy tears, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty that she would never have that experience with me. All they wanted was for their children to be more secure. Neither of my parents had gone past high school. Just like everyone else in their family, they’d gone to work. Copy and Paste were the first on either side of the family to attend college. Our folks were rightfully proud.

“Congratulations, guys.” I wasn’t going to be a dick, but I’d let myself be a teeny bit jealous. I peeked at my phone. If I could tough it out for another thirty minutes, I could safely bail on family time and head down to the club.

* * *

Before I turned my phone over at Wilde Dandies, I checked it again. Nothing . I was the one who said no hooking up and slammed the door shut on friendship, but I still obsessively checked my phone to see if he’d texted me. He hadn’t. After weeks of hooking up, being around him felt weird and awkward, and I didn’t like it. I wanted our fun, easy, and hot hookups to return.

What I got instead were awkward conversations in the driveway when we ran into each other. Since the hot hookups weren’t options anymore, I was going to find myself a man tonight, Daddy preferred, and have a good time. A scene was exactly what I needed to get me out of my slump.

“All right, here’s your wristbands—green for open to play and purple for middle. Remember, if you’re feeling uncomfortable, the playroom supervisors are available to assist you.” The host gave me the same spiel every time, so I stopped listening but kept the smile, hoping he’d think I was paying attention. Once released into the wilds of the club, I headed straight back to the littles and middles area.

Tonight was supposed to be a gaming tournament for the middles, but usually, they set up an activity geared toward littles on the same nights. And…I was right. In the Rumpus Room was a cupcake-decorating station and a crown-making station with pom-poms, glue sticks, and more glitter than should be legal. I kinda sorta loved it.

Since I was a self-proclaimed middle, I avoided the little table. There was an unacknowledged line that neither side crossed. Little boys stayed in their area and middles in theirs. It was a shame because some days I’d really like to do some little crafts. When I started exploring age play, the Daddies I’d encountered pointed out that middles and littles might be a spectrum, but the Daddies typically weren’t. I kinda sorta hated it because I’d been drawn to the other side and wanted to know what it felt like to be little.

But there was no time for that because I needed to change. I’d worn my work clothes to the club, and as always, my suits were always on point. What some people called loud, I called eye-catching. You knew who I was because there was no chance of missing me. Today’s aubergine option showed my butt to perfection. The sales lady said it was eggplant—gross. I didn’t want to wear the color of slimy food—aubergine was a vastly superior word. The shirt I’d picked out was floral, and I loved it. My obsession was floral prints. Even though I didn’t know much about actual flowers, I loved wearing them.

When I’d casually asked Gabe about his plans for the evening, he’d said he and Rory were meeting Rory’s parents for dinner. When he said it usually turned into a longish evening, I figured I was safe to come to the club without running into them. I was wrong because there they were, in the flesh, standing across the room from me. Dammit. Ugh, I needed this night out. If I couldn’t let everything go and relax, the odds were high that I’d spontaneously combust soon. It’d been weeks since I’d played with anyone. And by anyone, I meant Babbo.

Rory might know I was a middle, but I didn’t want to blur the lines between us more than they already were. It wasn’t like I could say, “ Hey, Ma, how about you help me figure out how to become friends with my boss’s boyfriend because we both like to mess around with age play .” Ack.

They were in the area that was set up like a sitting room. Gabe was talking to a dark-haired guy I didn’t recognize. And damn . He was fine, dressed in jeans, a Rainer hockey T-shirt, and sweet gay gods, a backward ball cap. Even from this distance, I could see a mega-watt smile flash across his face. And I felt nothing. Well, objectively, he was pretty…like super-duper pretty…but nothing besides that. I was confuzzled by my lack of reaction, but I refused to give it one more brain cell, considering the reasons behind my lack of attraction.

Rory sat at Gabe’s feet, dressed in a sweet pink onesie costume, seemingly oblivious to the gorgeous guy talking to his Daddy while he focused on his picture. His titian curls glinted in the low lamplight of the club, and his crayons covered the entire table in a messy jumble. He was quietly concentrating until he looked up and spotted me skulking in the shadows like a movie villain,

“Oh! Oh! Nico! Nico!” Rory waved wildly before jumping to his feet and rushing to me across the room. No. No. No. My cover was blown, and Gabe would see me. He wouldn’t see his competent assistant, only a boy who needed direction. Gah . I knew enough about Rory to know there’d be no stopping the little barreling his way across the room. Unfortunately for me, his slip-ons were in sports mode. I was trapped.

“Nico! You came an’ Daddy’s here. Wanna sit with me? I color. You wanna color?”

“Hey, Rory. I was just on my way out.” His crushed expression broke my heart.

Since Rory had come into Gabe’s life, he’d never been anything but kind to me. When he visited Gabe, he always made sure to speak with me and ask how I was. When Rory brought lunch, he always double-checked if I wanted anything. I wasn’t immune to his sad puppy-dog eyes either. “Maybe for a second.”

“Yay!” Rory’s fisted hand shot into the air and he did an abbreviated happy dance. He’d been spending a lot of time with Jakob, and it showed. His outburst was cute in its own way, but Rory’s was more spinning and less butt-shaking. “C’mon. We gonna put your pretty picture on your fridge?”

“My fridge doesn’t need it.”

“No, you need a pretty house. Owen makes the bestest and prettiest houses. He gonna make it pretty for you?” Rory grabbed my hand and pulled me back to the sitting area he’d been in. His supplies were spread out along with his book. Gabe, thankfully, only nodded in my direction and went back to his conversation. He didn’t introduce the guy chatting with him, and I didn’t ask either.

“Owen’s busy.” I found a page in one of the unused books and helped myself to the crayons. If I concentrated on my drawing, maybe I could forget Gabe was here. Rory chattered on about the guys, and I listened with half an ear. It was a pleasant buzz that didn’t require me to pay attention that closely. Once wound up, Rory didn’t need much input from me. Anders, his bestest non-little friend, was working hard and had the meanest boss in the whole world. As sad as Rory sounded about it, I was glad it wasn’t me. My boss was the best.

“Daddy! Look who’s here!” I heard the shouts long before I figured out who was shouting. Or why. When I finally spied Jakob, he was tugging his Daddy, Reed, forward and making a beeline straight to our little group. As much as I didn’t want to see him because I’d never get away, I wanted to just as much. It was impossible to dislike Jakob. He was a ray of sunshine in a human suit.

“Nico, came to play wit us?” Jakob asked when he plopped down on the floor next to me. They’d clearly coordinated their outfits because Rory was a pink axolotl and Jakob was a lavender one. Their getups were cute though. No judgment. Did they sell green ones ?

I appreciated the boys were trying to stay big for me. Just from seeing Rory around the office, I knew his natural state when he was in little space was much younger than he was presenting now. He also knew from the other day that I was a middle, and I knew in my heart he was trying to make me comfortable, which was the sweetest thing. And very much Rory.

“I like your outfits,” I said shyly. Rory and Jakob beamed at my compliment.

“Thank you. Daddy gots it for me,” Jakob replied.

Rory nodded emphatically and added with a grin, “Daddy gotted mine too. He’s the bestest Daddy in the whole world.”

“Boys, what are you talking about?” Reed asked.

“We tell Nico about our prezzies,” Jakob answered.

For the first time, maybe in ever, I was sad that I didn’t have a Daddy to buy me prezzies. I was the one who never wanted to be tied down, and I had exactly what I wanted. No commitments. No promises. But until I’d spent time with Babbo, I’d never even considered it was something to miss. But with these two boys looking like the epitome of happiness, maybe there was more to what I thought I never wanted.

There was this calmness around them that scared the crap out of me. And that frightening thought propelled me out of the space I’d been floating toward. In a flash, it was gone, and the realization that this wasn’t the place for me replaced it.

“Boys, I’m gonna go. Thank you for letting me color with you.”

“It was nice to see you, Nico,” Gabe said softly as I gathered myself to leave. All I managed was a curt nod. There would be no hanging out in the middle section for me today. I just needed to go. I felt fragile and a little broken. The longer I stayed, the more lonely I felt.

On my way out of the club, I glanced at the crown-making station. The littles looked like they were having so much fun. They were laughing and playing in the glitter. A few times, their Daddies told them to knock it off because they were throwing it at each other, and I wanted to be a part of all of it. I wanted to giggle and forget who I was in the real world—a high school graduate who didn’t know what he wanted to be when he grew up.

Since the Rumpus Room was a bust, I decided to head over to the regular dance club. If I got lucky, there’d be someone there I could occupy my time with. Hell, even a blowjob in the restroom would take the edge off tonight. There’d likely be at least one good-time friend there, and it would take my mind off the handsome man I’d cut out of my life for a dumb reason I didn’t really even care about. What I wanted was for him to ignore my decision to separate myself and invite me over anyway.

I refused to let myself fall into the trap of thinking a Daddy was needed. There was no need to speculate about whether I needed someone to take care of me when I was perfectly capable of that on my own. As far as I knew, there wasn’t a handbook that said I couldn’t spend my age play time being as independent as possible. Restricted to scenes at the club or a hosted visit meant I was free to be myself and be perfectly satisfied. I could still do whatever I wanted, didn’t need to ask anyone’s permission, and didn’t need anyone to tell me what to do.

I stomped down the street, upset at life, myself, Levi, and everybody in the world. By the time I got to the club, I’d worked up a head of steam and was ready to blow it off. After a brief stop at the bar to down a shot or three and start a tab, I left my jacket on the empty chair and headed to the dancefloor. My stomach burned from the cinnamon and bad decisions. Properly woozy, I reached the floor. A few guys I knew gave me a nod of greeting but didn’t intercept me.

Nothing would interrupt me this time.

Not the boys being boys.

Not my boss.

Not a sexy man who was probably at home on a couch watching a superhero movie I really wanted to watch.

I was going to work off all this pent-up energy. By the time my night was done, I planned to suck someone off in the restroom and forget I’d ever imagined the idea of what it would be like if Levi was my forever Daddy. I would wash that man right out of my hair and then restyle it to perfection. With my mantra in place, I landed on the dance floor and threw myself into the beat. Every pulse of the bass hit my heart. It took some work to lose myself because, at first, I recoiled from every touch by someone who wasn’t Levi.

The only person I wanted grinding up on me was Levi, and he wasn’t here. I seriously doubted he was interested in going here with me, being with me, or even talking to me. A tiny voice in the back of my head reminded me I was the one who shoved him away. I knew my catastrophizing brain had fueled my decision about breaking things off with Levi and likely fed me lies about why it needed to be done. Even though I knew that, I couldn’t deal with the reality of it. Instead, I threw myself into the scorching nonstop dance beat, song after song, until I could let myself grind on anyone looking for it.

When I was offered a drink, I downed them like water. By the time midnight rolled around, I was delightfully shit-faced drunk. How I was getting home or who I was going to get off with was still an open question. I needed to erase the memory of Babbo from my skin and this was the only way to do it.

“Hey, sexy,” a husky voice whispered in my ear as I threw myself into yet another song after yet another shot on the dancefloor. I whipped my head around to see a man in nothing but hot pants and a leather harness dancing beside me. He was fine . Everything about this man was fucking hot, from his harness to his hairy chest to his tree trunk legs to his teeny-tiny hot pants. He was sex on a stick, and I felt nothing. No stir in my gut. No twitch of my cock. No quickening in my chest. Nothing. Again. Levi had ruined me for other men. This was a problem.

“Hey, yourself.”

“I think I’ve seen you in here before, right?” It was so loud in here that to be heard we had to shout directly in each other’s ear. It brought us closer together, and at first, I thought maybe the feel of his skin underneath my hand as I balanced myself against his shoulder would help me feel the stirring of something. Nope.

Even though this guy was, objectively speaking, five-alarm fire hot, he was gonna be getting lucky with someone else tonight. A not-so-small part of me was disappointed because I’d seen this before. You got sucked into commitment, and before you knew it, you were arguing in Costco about how many paper towels to buy. My parents' marriage was unattainable as far as I was concerned, and if I couldn’t have that, what was the point of having anything less?

And Levi said casual, but anyone who met him knew he was commitment. He was sensible chinos in boring beige. He was Saturday night movies and Monday morning kisses on the cheek before going to work. He was stability. He was safety. He was marriage material. And he was the only guy I’d ever dreamed about.

Goddammit.