Page 12 of Baron's Boo-Boo
“I tried!” He laughs, and I picture him shaking his head. “Dude, Itriedto warn you—”
“How do you even know people with these kinks?” I demand, refusing to acknowledge that, yeah, he did try to talk Baron and me apart last night. Then, feeling hurt that I was left out of the loop, I ask, “And why didn’t you tell me?”
Anson sighs. “I joined a kink club a couple of months ago. I…Well, thewhys don’t really matter.” He clears his throat and I wonder what else my best friend has been keeping from me. “Anyway, I didn’t tell you because I’ve been figuring stuff out.”
“You didn’t think I’d listen?” It stings even more to hear that he didn’t trust me. “You thought I’d judge you?”
“Nothing like that, asshole,” he huffs. “I just didn’t want to bring it up until I was more comfortable with it myself.”
Well, that makes sense, I guess.
Apologizing, I tell him as much.
“Anyway,” he redirects, “how’d you finally work out that Bear’s a Little? Did he tell you?”
“I…um…” Releasing a long breath, I close my eyes and admit, “He invited me to come andplay,and I thought…”
Anson’s renewed laughter is raucous, drowning out the rest of my explanation. “Wait, wait, wait… You’re at his placenow? For what you thought was a booty call? And he’s, what, got his train set out for you?”
“His stuffies,” I grumble to the sound of more laughter. “Shut up, numbnuts, and tell me what I should do.”
“How am I supposed to shut upandtell you what to do?”
For fuck’s sake, how is this guy my best friend?
“Anson…”
“Okay, okay. Geez, take a deep breath, big man. Calm down.”
I growl in frustration.
“Alright, alright. In all seriousness” —his tone shifts from jovial to all business— “the way I see it, you have two choices. You can embrace those caretaker tendencies we both know you have and just go with it to see if you like it, or you can tell Bear you got your wires crossed and should probably leave.” He pauses. “Just…be gentle with him, man.”
A sinking feeling hits me when I consider walking away. “You think I’d be a dick?”
“No, but…ugh,” Anson exhales. “It’s not my place to say anything, but he’s…young, Vince. He’s young, and new to dating and putting himself out there.”
I think back to Baron’s shy admission that he’s never had anyone to call Daddy before and a suspicion tickles my brain. “Are you saying he’s a v—”
“Uh-uh. You have to talk to him. I’ve already meddled way too much.”
“Anson…”
“Go. Talk to Bear. Be your sweet, considerate self and you’ll be fine.”
“Anson.”
“Gotta run. Bye!”
And with that, the call ends.
Sadly, I’m no closer to knowing how to handle this situation when I head back into the small apartment. The more I look around, the more I realize that I should have seen the signs. There are stuffies on the worn couch, and action figurines on the little, square dining table, as well as a stack of coloring books and a small bucket of colored markers. The desk pressed against the wall between the dining area and the living area is also littered with figurines, and the DVDs on the shelf next to the TV are all kids’ movies.
Shaking my head, I cross the space and take a steadying breath before I step back into the bedroom…where I freeze in my tracks.
I wasnotexpecting to find Bear rubbing his stuffed tiger over his crotch.
His eyes are closed, his head thrown back in ecstasy. His red hair is wild, having air dried after his bath, lending him an ethereal vibe as he grinds up into his toy.
