Page 38 of Ted's Temerity
“Really?” I hate that my voice comes out so small and uncertain, seemingly proving to myself that my fears are valid. But Zephyr rolls his eyes and smirks at me, the hint of sassiness easing my mind more than his words can do on their own.
“Really,” he insists. “You’re still my Daddy, Ted. For as long as you’ll have me as your boy. I…” he swallows, “I love you.”
If I thought I was on a high during subspace, it’s nothing compared to the electric warmth that floods me with his simple declaration. I know it’s not just lip service, either. Not with what we’ve just done today.
Choked up, I respond, “God, Zeph, I love you, too.”
Then we’re kissing, and we’re both crying, but they’re happy tears. Tears of relief. Of mutual joy. Of love.
Then his hands slip lower down my back, brushing over the heated skin on my ass and I hiss into his mouth.
He pulls back, startled and chagrined. “Oh, shit, sorry!”
I can’t help laughing, feeling lighter than I have in…Christ, lighter than I caneverremember feeling. I know that part of that is still the lingering endorphins from the intense scene we just took part in -from reaching fucking subspace- and the other part is the rush of affection from our mutual declarations of love, but for now that’s enough.
“It’s fine,” I tell him, rubbing our noses together. “It’s a reminder of how damn much you care about me.”
“Still, we should get you some lotion.” He crinkles his nose adorably. “And we still need to shower.”
The thought of hot water on my stinging backside is not appealing. “Lukewarm water only.”
His expression softens out into understanding and fondness. “Yes, Daddy.”
As we make our way into the bathroom, I can’t help but feel optimistic that, with Zephyr at my side, everything’s going to be just fine.
Chapter Sixteen – Zephyr
“Wait…what?!” Ash asks me, his jaw dropping now that I’ve finished giving him the abridged version of what happened over the weekend after Ted and I left his house.
It’s Wednesday again, and this time we’re having lunch on our own, so we’ve been free to talk as one Little to another. Ted and I are solid, and we spent most of Sunday reassuring each other that we’re still Daddy and boy, that nothing has to change, but I still need to talk this out with someone who will understand my perspective better.
“Uh huh,” I answer, shoveling a forkful of lettuce into my mouth. I chew it and swallow as quickly as I possibly can. “I don’t know what came over me. But he wassoin his head and so determined to…to beat himself up and I just…snapped, I guess.”
“Jesus,” my friend sits back in his seat, dumbfounded. “I just can’t imagine it.”
“Well, I’d rather you didn’t,” I tease, going in for another mouthful of my salad. He scrunches up a paper napkin and tosses it at me.
“Not what I meant!”
I snicker.
“Seriously,” he leans forward across the little café table, lowering his voice, “I couldn’t possibly spank Charlie. I mean, he’s my Daddy. It would feel weird.” He cocks his head. “Did it feel weird?”
“Oddly enough, no.” I’ve been thinking about that more than anything. I sigh. “Andthat’swhat freaks me out. Like, if the roles we play are Daddy and boy, why didn’t it feel weird to dominate Ted? Doesn’t that, like, go against the whole dynamic?”
Ash doesn’t answer immediately. He takes a sip of his lemonade and seems to give my question some proper thought. “I mean,” he starts, tilting his head from side to side as he continues to think out loud, “it doesn’t have to be weird. It worked, right? Like, it helped him deal with…uh…everything?” Neither one of us wants to actually talk about Ted’s past. It feels wrong, somehow. Disrespectful. I just nod, rolling my wrist in a gesture for him to keep talking. “And you’re both adults, so…maybe look at it as you knowing what he needed? Just like he knows what you need when you’re little for him.”
“But you just said-”
“I know. And, because Charlie and I have never been in that sort of situation, I can only say that it would probably feel weird for us. But,” he holds up a finger to stall me from saying anything, his mop of curly hair swaying as he moves, “when I really think about it, it shouldn’t feel weird to do something to help him, Daddy or not.”
I take a moment to process that, relaxing back into my chair and letting the general din of the café fill the silence between us. It’s busy for a Wednesday lunch time, with people chatting at tables around us, the sounds of cutlery hitting plates and the muted clanging of pots and pans from the kitchen reminding me that life goes on despite my personal dramas. It’s strangely comforting in its own way.
“You’re right,” I eventually acknowledge, pushing the remnants of my salad into the middle of the table. “It felt good to step up and do something, you know? And the fact that he trusted me…” Now I choke up a little, recalling how emotional the whole experience was.
Ash reaches across the laminate tabletop and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you’re there for him. Charlie feels awful…”
“I can imagine.”
