Page 5 of Just A Little Magic

“Yeah, I don’t see anything down there. It doesn’t feel damp either.”

“Maybe it was my imagination. Problem solved.” I said it with a bright smile, hoping he’d let it go.

“Well, you should still have Levi check it out.”

Dog. Bone.

“Okay, I’ll do that.”

The words had no sooner left my mouth than he brushed my hair back off my face. It might have been my imagination, but I could have sworn his fingers lingered longer than necessary.He angled his wonderfully oversized body closer to mine. His hand returned to my cheek before tracing along the cheekbone and jaw. My breath hitched and all cognitive abilities left my body.

I didn’t have a clear understanding of what was happening.

I wasn’t mad about it though.

“Bear? What are you doing?”

We were so close, and as much as we loved each other, there was a line we’d never come close to crossing. Tonight, everything felt off, and I didn’t understand what was happening.

Technically, Bear was my boss, but he’d never treated me like an underling. He knew I was a little, even if he’d never seen me in little mode, and was fine with that knowledge. But this? This was confusing as hell.

From the moment he’d sat in the common area our freshman year in college, I’d known he was the man I would love. After he saw the raggedy state of my backpack and shoes, he came up with some insane story about how his brother was supposed to be in the dorms but wasn’t, so I should use his meal card. It hadn’t taken me more than thirty seconds to realize he was making the story up, but I’d gone along with it. One, he’d been so sincere, and two, I’d been hungry. He’d been the sweetest.

“My dad has me all fucked up tonight. I’m sorry.” Bear stepped back from me, and the loss was visceral. I wanted him back in my orbit and to tell him to stay there forever. “I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow morning. Does that work?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. See you tomorrow.”

Barrett leaned down, kissed my cheek, and let himself out the front door. I knew he’d wait on the porch until he heard me turn the deadbolt, so I crossed the room and flipped thelatch. I listened to his steps retreat down the porch stairs and the smooth rumble of his car backing out of the driveway.

Finally.

I was exhausted, but my mind was too jumbled for actual sleep. With a tired sigh, I turned off all the overhead lights, switched on a couple of lamps, and headed to the kitchen. Next up, I grabbed a bottle of milk out of the fridge, pulled a pot out, filled it with water, and set the bottle in it to warm. I put the burner to low so it would be ready by the time I had finished my shower.

On my way back to the bedroom, I stopped to set up a cartoon on the TV. From my bedroom, I grabbed a pull-up diaper decorated with sailboats and a pair of pajamas that reminded me of old-timey sailors.

While I waited for the water to heat in the shower, I picked out my toys. I chose a couple of cloth blocks with different textures on each side, my favorite paci, and my baby-blue blankie with the satin trim.

After my shower, quick and efficient, I powdered and dressed myself. It wasn’t enough to fully drop me into little space, but it let me go far enough.

Over the years, I’d trained myself to get into a decent little space solo. If Bear had been here, it would’ve been different. He’d have been the one to prep my bottle and powder me. Maybe he’d even let me sit on his lap for a cuddle while I watched my show and drank my milk.

But he wasn’t here and wouldn’t be here. My foolish daydreams had been out of hand since Gabe found his other half. Rory was perfect for him, and their happiness was a bittersweet pill.

I wished I was one of the adorable littles at the club. Their sweet voices asking for cups of juice or their Daddy to playwith them was the best. They vroomed their cars and crashed their trains with abandon. Their jumpers and rainbow sneakers were perfectly wonderful. But when I was there, their giggles were a thousand paper cuts to my skin. I just wanted to go home and cry.

My little headspace was much, much younger. I was that adult baby Jerry Springer used to bring on his show. My one time playing in public at a club was enough to know I wasn’t the kind of little needed there. I was much too needy for a Daddy to want, and even if they had, my size made cuddling on anyone’s lap look ridiculous.

I wasn’t a pint-sized twink. No, Daddies wanted a little to play and interact with. My deepest little self was practically nonverbal. I needed bottles and rocking and diapers. And more than any of it, I saw the littles Bear was drawn to, and they weren’t my kind.

A mental head shake and a stern internal warning reminded me I wasn’t helping myself relax.

Message received, I padded back to the kitchen, dumping my blankie and toys on the way, and carefully took my now-warm bottle off the stove. I double-checked the burner, making sure it was off, before I climbed onto my oversized couch. Bear was so big that I kept all my stuff on the bigger side so he’d be comfortable…

Hard as it was, I forced my brain away from Bear and focused on the textured block in my hands. The insides were squishy and the outer cloth let me rhythmically smooth my fingertips over the sides. I turned it over and over until my mind settled. Once in a calmer headspace, I slowly stacked and lined up the blocks in different patterns. After a bit, I settled on the couch and finished my bottle before the milk lost its warmth. When done, I set it aside and picked up my paci. The minkyside of my blanket pressed against my cheek as my loneliness receded to the back of my mind and my little self took over.

I told myself I’d find my way to bed when my show was over.

I told myself I needed to make sure to set my alarm.

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