Page 16 of Saving Little Clark

I shook my head, amused despite myself. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this late-night visit? Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but I figured you'd be halfway to Will's place by now, ready to continue your French kissing tournament."

Alex's smirk softened into something more wistful, almost shy. "Actually, I was hoping I could crash here tonight? I'm too wired to sleep, and I could really use some quality bro time to process everything that happened today."

I felt a sudden rush of affection for my ridiculous, wonderful best friend. For all his bravado and swagger, Alex was just as nervous about this new thing with Will as I was aboutBrody. It was oddly comforting to know we were in the same boat, navigating these uncharted waters together.

"Of course, you can stay," I said, plopping down beside him on the couch. "My home is your home, you know that."

We settled back against the cushions, Alex kicking off his shoes and tucking his feet up under him like a contented cat. Then he turned to me, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "Hey, do you remember that night back in college, when you first told me you were a Little?"

"Of course, I remember that day," I said softly. "How could I ever forget? That was the night I realized I wasn't alone.”

It had been sophomore year, a few months into our friendship. By then, Alex had seen me use my binky, crawl around in training pants and cuddle up with my stuffies dozens of times. We had been up late studying for midterms, giddy with exhaustion and too much caffeine, when the conversation had somehow turned to kinks.

"I've always wondered about that," Alex had said, tapping his pen against his chin thoughtfully. "Like, what makes someone into spanking, or roleplay, or whatever? Is it nature, nurture, or just a whole lot of porn exposure?"

I had frozen, my heart suddenly pounding in my throat. I knew I should laugh it off, make some joke about Alex's browser history and change the subject. But something in his open, curious expression made me want to be brave. To take a chance and share this hidden part of myself with the one person I trusted most in the world.

"Actually," I had said, my voice barely above a whisper, "I'm kind of into age play. Like, regression and having a Daddy and stuff."

Alex had blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Age play? What's that?"

I had taken a deep, shaky breath, my palms sweating as I began to explain. I braced myself for judgement, for disgust or ridicule. But Alex just nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful.

"Huh. That actually makes a lot of sense," he had said, tapping his chin. "I mean, who doesn't want to feel safe and cared for, you know? Especially with how stressful and crazy the world can be sometimes."

I had gaped at him, hardly daring to believe my ears. "You don't think it's weird? Or gross, or pathetic?"

"Of course not!" Alex had looked almost offended at the suggestion. "Clark, you're my best friend. Nothing you could ever tell me would make me think less of you. And honestly? The more I think about it, the more I can kind of relate."

It had been my turn to blink in surprise. "Really? You think you might be a Little too?"

Alex had shrugged, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I don’t know about that. But sometimes, when I'm really stressed or overwhelmed, I just want someone to hold me and tell me everything's gonna be okay, you know?"

I had nodded emphatically. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean."

And just like that, a wall I hadn't even realized was there had come crumbling down between us. We had stayed up all night talking, giggling over childhood memories and fantasies we had never dared to voice aloud before.

It had been the first time I had ever felt truly seen, truly understood by another person. And it had cemented Alex's place in my heart as the brother I never had, the other half of my soul.

Now, curled up on my couch with him after the most surreal and wonderful day of my life, I felt that same rush of love and gratitude washing over me. I reached out and squeezed his hand, my throat tight with emotion.

It had been days since Alex and I had indulged in any Little play together, both of us too busy with work and the general chaos of adulting to make time for it.

"Hey," I said, nudging him gently with my elbow. "You wanna have a Little night? For old times' sake?"

Alex's face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. We sprang into action, giddy with excitement as we gathered up all the necessary supplies. Sippy cups and stuffies, coloring books and crayons.

Soon, we were snuggled up together on the couch, clad in fuzzy pajamas with cartoon characters dancing across the fabric. Alex had his favorite stuffed penguin clutched to his chest, while I nursed a cup of warm milk with a sleepy, contented smile on my face.

"This is nice," Alex mumbled around the binky bobbing between his lips. "I missed this.”

Then a sly grin spread across his face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "But you know what would be even better? If we could do this with our men sometime. Can you imagine? Double dates with sippy cups and naptime snuggles?"

I felt a sudden swoop of excitement in my stomach at the thought, followed quickly by a pang of uncertainty. "That would be amazing," I said slowly. "But, do you really think they'd be into it? I mean, they're not Daddies. We don’t even know if they're cool with the whole Little thing."

Alex's smile faltered slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's not exactly first date material, is it?Hi, I really like you, wanna come over and read me a bedtime story sometime?"

I snorted, nearly choking on my milk. "God, can you imagine? They'd run screaming for the hills before we even got to the good stuff."

---