Page 5 of Matteo's Mettle
I take the opportunity to explore the space further first. It’s kitted out like a giant day care center, and all the littles clearly love it. It’s no wonder that the membership fees for this place are so high. The club itself, from what I’ve seen, has spared no expense in the experiences it provides its members. It’s enough to make me curious about seeing some of the other themed rooms someday.
“…can’t believe you’ve talked me into this,” a deep voice, sounding incredibly petulant, catches my ear.
Another male voice, pitched a little higher, laughs. “Just enjoy your birthday like a good boy, Matty. I promise, if this last-ditch effort fails, Charlie, Ash and I will drop it and you can hang up your diapers for good, okay?”
“Ugh,” the first voice grumbles, but I can’t hear much heat in it. “Fine.”
“I still think you’re crazy for wanting to do that, you know.”
This time, the first voice, Matty, growls and I can hear the frustration in his words, “Drop it, Josh.”
I turn around from the elaborate train set I’ve been pretending to inspect, intrigued by the conversation I’ve accidentally eavesdropped on. My curiosity has been piqued. Scanning the area near the ‘paint a plaster character’ table, my eyes land on the two men I assume were the ones I just overheard.
Holy fuck, they’re hot.
Neither one of them looks like any of the other littles in the room. They’re bothbuilt, with giant-ass biceps and broad shoulders. The younger of the pair is wearing a tight Buzz Lightyear costume. His jaw is squared, covered in carefully trimmed stubble, and his eyes are dark brown. His hair is a standard ‘short back and sides, slightly more on top’ cut.
The older guy is wearing a onesie with Eeyore on the front. His face is rounder than the young guy’s and he has a neat, dark beard that is liberally speckled with gray and silver which offset wide green eyes spectacularly. His hair is longer, too. A little shaggy around his ears and down towards his neck. It’s also graying at the temples. His skin is a deliciously golden tanned color that makes my mouth water. And those huge arms of his? They’re covered in a collection of dark ink, some faded and some clearly more recent. I want to get closer to check out the designs.
The older guy senses my stare and looks up to catch me appraising him. Considering how big and rugged he appears, I’m surprised by the blush that creeps over his cheeks and up the back of his neck. It’s ridiculously adorable. He offers me the most beautiful, shy smile before he glances at his companion, then back to me. The smile falters then slides off his face.
My heart tugs painfully when he drops his eyes back down to his hands, which are fiddling with a plaster character I can’t quite discern the shape of.
Frowning, I step forward, but I’m quickly distracted by Kate calling out for me. I sigh as I make my way back toward the makeup activity, hoping that I’ll be able to seek out the guy in the Eeyore onesie again soon.
I just want to see that smile return to his face.
Chapter Three – Matteo
Ifeel like a dirty old man.
No, really, Iama dirty old man.
The kid I was just eyeing off can’t be more than twenty-five. That’s twenty years my junior. But,hotdamn, he was attractive. From my spot on the floor, he appeared tall and solid. Not exactly gym-toned muscular, but stocky, with piercing blue eyes and thick black hair in a kind of coiffed style. His friendly face was squared and clean shaven, and home to his plump, kissable lips. And for a moment, the briefest moment, I thought he’d been checking me out.
But that’s absurd. I’m sitting next to Josh, who convinced me that Littles’ Night being scheduled for my birthday wasa sign, and it’s more likely that the hot young Daddy was checking him out considering he’s much more age appropriate for the guy.
“Seen anyone you wanna play with?” Josh asks, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth as he concentrates on painting the Mickey Mouse plaster figure he selected.
Yes. A hot as fuck Daddy who I’m probably old enough to have actually fathered.Y’know, if I’d ever swung that way.
I sigh. “No. It looks like the usual crowd.”
Josh looks up and scans the room. It’s gotten busy, which isn’t a surprise considering the theme of the evening. He frowns before he turns to arch an eyebrow at me. “I see a few new faces.”
“Can’t you just leave it?” I haven’t even started painting the Donald Duck figurine I chose. “It’s my birthday, and I’m really not in the mood to be rejected tonight.”
He rolls his eyes and points his paintbrush at me, a glob of red paint wobbling dangerously on the end. “Those are big words for someone who’s s’posed to be little.”
Tears sting the back of my eyes as a lump lodges in my throat. I’m at war within myself. I haven’t been able to sink into my little headspace properly in months. I want to; I really, truly do. But months of hearing ‘you’re too old’, ‘you’re too big’, ‘you look like a Dom’ have taken their toll. I’m on edge here in the club, feeling the stares and judgment from those around me, but being little at home without a Daddy has lost its appeal, too.
“Fuck, Matt, I’m sorry,” Josh tosses his paintbrush down, splattering the paper-covered table with red paint, and pulls me into a hug. “You can be as little or big as you want.”
It takes me a moment to get my shit together, and when I pull away from his hug, I force a smile. “I’m just having a midlife crisis,” I jest, repeating the same words I’ve been using to describe my dilemma for a while now, “don’t mind me.”
“It’s your birthday; you can cry if you want to.”
“I don’t think that’s the right lyric.”
