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Six Weeks Ago

I'm tired.

Not just a typical tired, but the one that seeps into the bones and stays for days. The kind of tired that doesn't go away with sleep. I've tried everything that my money can buy, which isn't a lot. I'm barely making ends meet, keeping my head above the water. I've been on my own since I was seventeen. Almost six years ago. Somehow I've made it work. I'll continue to make it work.

Making it work includes finding a place to sleep tonight. I have an apartment. Just signed the lease last week. I'm… still furnishing it. The couch that was included is lumpy and there are more stains than I feel comfortable sitting on. The previous tenants left a bedframe but no mattress. I'm working on it.

Sunny View Apartments is so far from its namesake. It's open faced apartments that all share the same balcony for each floor. The apartments are three sides of a square and all face a courtyard that is less than ideal to look at. The grass is dead from the cold weather and the bird bath that sits off centered is empty and looks like it hasn't been cleaned in years. The security gate at the entrance doesn't even lock properly half the time.

The apartment has a crack in the window sill that lets in a cold draft and I'm down to just two thin blankets. I'm tired of freezing each night. I check the cash in my pocket once more, looking at the screen on the phone. I'm using the local library's Wi-Fi right now, trying to navigate the site on a flip phone. The website says that the closest club to here has an entrance fee of forty dollars. I have sixty.

I weigh the pros and cons of spending that much money. It's cheaper than any hotel in the city and I can stretch twenty dollars to last me at least two more weeks until the next government check is deposited. That will help pay for my rent and then, hopefully, I'll have a normal paycheck coming. I have an interview at a coffee shop next week.

Just the thought of having a place to hang out, grab a drink, and possibly head home with someone that has a house with heat is enough for me to make the decision. And a bed. I pocket my phone and money and head down the street. I run the directions through my mind on repeat so I don't get lost. The weather is brutal this time of year and the thin jacket and oversized t-shirt isn't helping. My jeans have a hole in the knee from years of wearing them. They're my favorite pair. It doesn't help to keep my body temp regulated.

The simple building comes into view and I pick up my pace as a gust of wind swoops down the street. I can feel the cool air against the back of my neck and pull the hood closer around my face. When I step into the lobby of the club, I'm greeted with a rush of warmth and sigh at the relief.

"Welcome to Club Thrive," the man behind the desk says. He's shirtless, thick hair across his chest, wearing a blue harness with loops and buckles all around it. I try not to gawk, but damn. Older men are just… swoon-worthy. This guy, despite his size and bear-ness, is definitely a submissive. I'm not judging or anything, but there's a man next to him that is attaching a leash to one of the loops. I'm inferring. "Are you a member here?"

"No, just a one time pass please."

I fill out the appropriate paperwork quickly, two signatures on forms stating privacy, safety, and liability. I fill it out as unattached. The guy takes my money and gives me the quick rundown on the place. There are floors to this place, hallways that lead to private rooms. They can be reserved for up to four hours at a time. Anything longer has to be approved by the front desk staff and reserved ahead of time. Fairly standard in my brief knowledge and experience of kink clubs like this.

I don't indulge often, but I've been known to watch videos of varying kinks. I don't have a preference; barely have experience with other men. Definitely prefer men, though. I've known about my sexuality from a young age, something that my mom and dad weren't all too pleased about. She kept me around, though, because I was the one that watched my younger siblings. Made sure they had dinner at night, breakfast in the morning, got to school, did their homework, everything Mom and Dad should have done. I hated leaving them, but after the last incident I couldn't take it anymore.

I push the thoughts of my younger siblings away and look around the place. I'm definitely underdressed in jeans and a too-big shirt. Other patrons are in varying degrees of undress. There's a couple sitting at one of the sofas. The man is dressed immaculately, screaming 'I have money', while his partner is curled up next to him with their head resting on their master's knee. The second guy is wearing only pants, a set of dog ears, and a tail. I'm not into pet play, but I do see the appeal in the submissiveness of it.

I continue along, aiming to grab myself a drink. The entrance fee covers two drinks and I fully plan to use both. Alcohol is a rare occurrence on my budget and two drinks will be enough to give me the start of a buzz. I pass a hallway with a line of people. I see them disappearing into a room one-by-one. There's a large window where those waiting are watching. I'm tempted to stop and see what it is, but something else catches my attention first.

A man in a bright yellow onesie and white shorts that barely hide his ass. He has a pacifier in his mouth and is holding the hand of a woman a couple inches shorter than him. Her other hand is in his hair, fixing it so it's not falling in his face. I'm not close enough to hear what he says, but she smiles and gives him a kiss on the cheek before they disappear down a second hallway.

I've come across age play before, but like the pup play, it isn't something I think I'd like. Granted, I've gotten off to many videos where the bottom screams out for his Daddy. And yeah, maybe sometimes they're sucking their thumb or a diaper had been involved at one point. My interest is piqued, sure, but I don't follow them. I continue to walk around, toward the bar on the opposite end where I walked in.

There are two bartenders. The one that asks me what I want is a tall brunette woman with shocking green eyes. She's beautiful, in an objective way. She's wearing some type of suit that reflects the lighting around the room. Leather, maybe? I can't tell since the lights are much dimmer by the bar.

"Can I just get a beer? Whatever you have is fine." I present the drink ticket and she smiles, taking it and walking away. Thirty seconds later, a cup is set in front of me. I thank the lady bartender.

"First time here?" she asks. Her voice is lovely, warm. She leans her body over the bar, resting on her elbows. If I were a straight man, the view of her cleavage would probably do something for me. Instead, I keep her eye contact.

"Here, yes. Kink clubs in general, no." I take a sip of the cold liquid. It's not my favorite type and she must be able to tell by the expression I pull.

"If you didn't like a certain kind, you shouldn't say whatever is fine." She laughs and goes to take the drink away. I hold firm to it though. I don't know if this would be wasting my ticket or not.

"It's not my fav, but it's fine." I take another sip. It'll have to be fine.

"I can't watch this," she says. She swipes the drink from me expertly without a single drop spilled. She continues to talk as she dumps it and starts pulling bottles and a fresh glass with ice. The bar top isn't crowded so I can hear her easily. "My patrons leave this bar happy or they sit their ass right down until I find something they like. I'm not known to leave someone unsatisfied."

She flicks her eyes at me and I can hear the double entendre in her voice.

"I'm flattered, but you're barking up the wrong tree." She purses her lips for a half second before shrugging.

"Can never tell with those that come in. Worth shooting my shot at anyone as cute as you."

I blush at the compliment. I've been told I look older for my age. I'm only twenty-two but I've been mistaken for up to thirty. My skin is naturally darker, thanks to the Puerto Rican genetics passed down from one side of my family, and I can grow a beard. It's dark, nearly black, and definitely makes me look years older than I am. I'm clean shaven right now. The years of having to parent my younger siblings must give me that vibe. I'm not sure.

"I appreciate it," I say. She slides a new glass in front of me. I haven't paid attention to what she put in this. It's a green color with a pineapple on top. "What is this?"

"Liquid Marijuana," she says. "Blue Curacao, Malibu rum, Watermelon liqueur, Captain Morgan, pineapple juice, and Sprite. I hope you're not allergic to any of that."

"Not that I'm aware of," I say with a smile. I hold the drink up to my nose and sniff. It smells good. "I'm not much of a cocktail guy."

"If you don't like it, third time will be the charm. I'll make sure you have something enjoyable tonight." Someone sits a few seats away and she nods toward them. "I'll be right back. Give it a shot."

I raise the glass to my lips and take a tentative sip. The taste explodes in my mouth and I pull back, licking my lips. It's fruity, sweet, and I can still taste the alcohol in it. I gulp down more, making sure I pace myself. This is dangerously delicious.

I'm halfway done with the glass when the bartender comes back. She's smiling and I return it easily. "So, I did a good job?"

"Very good," I say. She beams at that and I stifle a laugh at the way she bounces on her toes. I don't think she's much older than myself. Maybe late twenties.

"Don't give her too many compliments," the other bartender says behind her shoulder. He's an older man, definitely more my style, with a salty beard and stormy, gray eyes. My dick immediately takes interest. "She has a praise kink."

"Shut up, Ben." The words are playful and the woman tries to smack him with the towel she has in her hand. He catches the towel in one hand and in the smoothest movements I've seen in my life, spins her and pins her body to the bar in front of me. His eyes bore into hers and then flick to mine and fuck if I don't want to reach down and palm my dick right now.

"Brats don't get their rewards, do they, Princess?"

I can't tear my eyes away. The way the girl— I don't even know her name— lets out a breath audible enough for me to hear and Ben's hand wrapped around her body to hold her close. I've never been one into voyeurism nor am I into straight couples, but… Damn.

The moment is over in ten seconds, but Ben shoots me a wink and they go back to making drinks like nothing happened. I take another sip of the cocktail to try and cool my own body temperature rising. "Friend of yours?" I ask after a second.

She laughs, grabbing Ben's attention once again. He's hot in the granddad type of way. He's easily in his fifties and while his clothes are covering all the good bits, the fabric stretches across his arms and chest. "Ben is a friend. We've messed around a few times before, but it's nothing like that. You, on the other hand, are going to have no trouble leaving here with someone else if you want."

"That's the plan." I try to make it sound saucy and not like I'm desperately needing a place to stay. I finish off the drink and slide the empty glass toward her. "I'll be back for a second one, I'm sure."

"I'll make you something different. See if you like it. Enjoy your night."

I thank her once more and continue my walk around. I'm more relaxed now. And warm. The place is a lot bigger than it looks on the outside. Everyone in the main room is paired up with someone already and no one catches my eye. The thought of the guy from earlier, with the pacifier, pops back up into my mind as I pass the hallway they disappeared down.

The hallway doesn't give much away. It's plain off-white walls and a rug that spans the length. The floor underneath is the same floor in the main room, a concrete color with a clear coat of resin or something overtop. Probably for easy cleaning. The rug is a beige color. Either side of the hallway has private rooms labeled. There's three on each side. The fourth door on the right is brightly decorated. It's painted in a rainbow of colors and has clouds and pictures of dogs playing. It's cute.

I can hear laughter and conversations on the other side of the door. Why am I here? I ask myself that as I continue to stand in front of the door. The door opens suddenly and I jump back, startling the man that opened it.

"Sorry." I mumble the word and give him enough space to walk out. He's followed by another man. This guy is dressed in a footie pajama set with polar bears wearing Santa hats all over it. He smiles at me and his face looks so carefree and… happy. I catch a glimpse of the room before the door shuts again. It looks—

I step forward and open the door. The noise level rises drastically and there's holiday music playing. The song about wanting a hippo for Christmas. I recognize it because it was Jayden's, my younger brother, favorite song. I don't know if it still is. He's sixteen now, so I'm sure he's outgrown it. The room is sectioned off into different stations and there are people at each spot.

There are varying degrees of age play going on in this room. Some are in more casual clothes, shorts and a t-shirt, while others have footie pajamas or have pacifiers in their mouths. I spot one girl curled up in the lap of another woman sipping from a bottle.

It's overwhelming, but I don't find myself wanting to move. I spot a group of older adults, ones that aren't dressed in play clothes, and assume they are the Mommies and Daddies, sitting in the further right-hand corner. Squeals and laughter catch my attention and I move to look at the block station. There's a group of four either on their knees or standing up, building a tower several feet tall. One has a toy dragon that they're flying around and the others, it looks like, are trying to keep it safe.

"Hey." A deep voice says close to me. I turn away from the group playing to see who approached me. When I look up, holy shit. The man is gorgeous and fit. My whole body is immediately at attention. "Are you here with someone?"

The man is bald but his beard is thick and not a hint of gray in it. It's only an inch long, maybe two. His shirt is stretched across his chest and I clock the muscles on his arms and the abs under his shirt. I open my mouth to say something, but have no idea what. My curiosity got the better of me? I was drawn to the sounds of being carefree? That I kind of wish I could have some time where I don't have to constantly be worried about my next meal or if I'll freeze at night?

"Are you okay?" The man's voice goes softer and he leans against the wall two feet away, crossing his arms over his chest. I feel small next to him, a feeling I'm not familiar with as the oldest sibling and being six foot even. "If you want to play, you can, but Honey, you'll have to talk to someone. Going nonverbal before you've set boundaries with anyone isn't safe."

Honey.

The way he says it, talking to me, melts something inside me. I look up at the man, chewing my bottom lip. "I'm not… I was just looking around."

He gives me a gentle smile, probably happy I was able to say some words. Why am I having trouble thinking around this guy? Sure, I'm a bit out of my element in this room, but I know how to talk. This guy is just… intimidating. Yeah, I think that's the feeling I have low in my gut.

"Are you interested in trying?" He asks. "If you are, that's completely fine."

"Oh, um, no thank you." I glance around the room again. Everything is cheery and happy here. I remind myself of my goal coming here. To spend a few hours hanging out somewhere warm and possibly find someone to go home with for the night.

"Can I ask what your name is?"

"Orion," I answer automatically, my eyes flicking up to his on instinct.

"Like the constellation?" I nod. That's always the first question anyone asks when I give my name. "I like it. I'm Garrett Beachum, but you can call me Gare or Garrett."

"Not Daddy?" My whole body floods with embarrassment. I clearly don't have a filter around this guy. "I'm sorry. That just came out without me thinking."

"You could call me Daddy," he says. His eyes darken a bit when he says it and steps closer to me. It's not intimidating the way he's standing so close to me. He seems genuine when he asks the next thing. "Are you okay?"

Am I okay? I just spent the majority of my last money to come here in hopes of finding a place to stay that isn't the freezing cold box of an apartment. I'm here for the wrong reasons, I know it. Everyone here is having fun and enjoying themselves. I just want to sleep. Actual sleep, not really sleep with someone.

I look up at Garrett. His eyes are scanning my face, looking for what, I don't know. There are small lines at the outer corners, but otherwise his face is clear. He has to be around forty, though, if I had to guess.

"Do you like dogs?" Garrett asks, throwing me for a loop.

I do love dogs, actually. I was never allowed to have one. For some reason, my parents thought I could raise three kids but not a pet. Any spare time I got to myself, I would walk by the dog park or go to the shelter. It's been years since I've done that though. Survival mode is a brutal thing.

Garrett must sense my excitement at the mention of dogs. He pulls his wallet out and flips it to me, showing me a picture of an adorable pit bull. "This is Riley. He's super playful and a sweetheart."

"He's cute," I say. Garrett shows me another picture. He's dressed in a pajama set and surrounded by his toys. I let a small laugh slip out at that picture. He's a chunky boy, but definitely adorable and spoiled.

I also take note of the house that the dog lives in. High ceilings, spacious living room area. A huge backyard. I didn't think that was even possible in the city. It looks homey. Warm. Everything I was hoping to score tonight. Am I about to fall into the trap of "Do you want to see my dog?"? Yes, yes I am. But after just a glimpse of that place, I want to visit.

"Can I meet him?" I ask, looking up at Garrett. His smile is warm and genuine and he nods.

"Did you drive here?"

"No." I don't offer anything else. He doesn't need to know any more than what my clothes tell him of me. This is just one night.

"Okay, then. Let's go."