A DADDY FOR ALEXI

A DADDY’S BOY BOOK

JOE SATORIA
Copyright © 2021 Joe Satoria All Rights Reserved No part of this book
may be reproduced, transmitted, copied, or stored in any form or by any
means without permission of the author. Your respect and support of the
author is appreciated. All characters, events, brands, companies, and
locations in this story are used fictionally and without intent of slander. Any
resemblance to actual people are purely coincidental.
This book contains sexually explicit material suitable only for mature
readers. All main characters are above the legal age of 18. And the book
was written in British English. Example: Mr and Mrs - instead of Mr. and
Mrs.
Content: Anxiety, Family Neglect, Hurt/Comfort, Age Play
1. ALEXI
2. WARREN
3. ALEXI
4. WARREN
5. ALEXI
6. WARREN
7. ALEXI
8. WARREN
9. ALEXI
10. WARREN
11. ALEXI
12. WARREN
13. ALEXI
14. WARREN
15. ALEXI
16. WARREN
17. ALEXI
18. WARREN
19. ALEXI
20. WARREN
21. ALEXI
EPILOGUE
The Next DADDY’S BOY Book
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ABOUT the AUTHOR
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Daddy’s Boy Standalone Series: A Daddy for Alexi

A Daddy for Benito

Other books by Joe: Mr Nice Guy – Age Gap Romance Mr Next Door –
Age Gap Romance Press One for Fake Boyfriend – Fake Relationship Press
Two for Fake Fiancé – Fake Relationship Break A Sweat – Sports Romance
Out of Your League – Sports Romance
Visit Joe’s website at www.JoeSatoria.com for an up-to-date list of releases,
as well as any sneak peeks and exclusives you might have missed.
BLURB
Can Alexi find the daddy of his dreams?

Lonely and lost, Alexi Drake is looking for a caring hand. Starting a new
job with the same anxieties, he doesn’t think he’ll ever feel wanted, let
alone someone who will understand him. But will the kindness of a stranger
change that?

Overworked and under-laid, Warren Raines is searching for someone

special to share himself with. Touch is his love language. He’s armed with a
giant stuffed teddy, and a need to please. Will he finally find someone to
have fun with?

Dressed up and playing the part, they find something special… but can they
complete each other?

A DADDY FOR ALEXI is the start of a brand new series! You’ll find
age gap, age play, and plenty of femboy fantasy. Each book in the series
is standalone, although characters are known to make a guest
appearance.
 1. ALEXI
TUESDAY

It’s going to be ok.

A mantra I felt had lost meaning. Overused. I was beyond saving. I
was beyond ok. All I had was slow breaths and telling myself, ‘it’s going to
be ok’.
I tried. It failed.
Listening to the same woman snapping at me down the phone. Ten
minutes now.
In her pause for a breath, I read from a script. “I’m—I’m sorry you
feel that way,” I said. Holding back the swell of emotion in my throat,
gulping it down like I was suppressing some monster.
“Well, what are you going to do about it?” the sharp voice snapped
back through the headset.
I’d gone from making coffees in a small café, in a town nobody had
been to, to doing what I thought would be admin work; low stress, and
steady pay.
Staring at a computer monitor as others spoke inside the office
cubicles. It was the first time I’d worked in an office; I thought the
environment would help me.
It was making me worse.
“I can pass along your feedback to our research team here at Fizz,
the future stop for all your bubbly drink needs,” I answered, less than
enthusiastically in response. I was reading from a script. My eyes blurring
at the words, trying to force them into focus.
“No, you’ve got the number on the can for any customer complaints
and queries,” she snapped.
 I knew the call was recorded, and that was only adding pressure.
The tension headache and throbbing in my chest. “Yes,” I said through
dryness in my throat. “It is, and I’ve taken your feedback.” The grip of my
pen was weak; I could barely scribble on the notepaper.
“Aren’t you going to offer me any compensation?”
“Compensation?” I repeated. Nearing a panic attack. My slick palms
dropping the pen, and my vision drifting like I wore my body as an
exoskeleton. “I—um—I—”
“Yes!” she screamed. “Is that something you can offer? What are
you? New? Dense?”
She was calling me stupid. My body threw itself into action as my
mind froze. With a jolt, my hand flopped across the keys. A click and the
call disconnected.
Repeating the mantra through deep pants, I kept my chin dipped to
my chest. The itchy collar of the shirt I wore, scratching my neck. It was a
new shirt; I bought it specifically for this job.
“It’s ok,” I let out in a whisper.
Slowly, I removed the headset. The sounds of the surrounding
office, undisturbed, not regarding anything I went through. I kept my head
low. I didn’t want anyone to see me; I didn’t want to disturb them.
The team was small, but the company was growing, always more
faces appearing. I kept to myself. I didn’t think I’d be on the phone, but
three weeks ago during my first week here, they brought it up. I couldn’t
back out. I’d moved my life out of the small town for this city, and now I
was in the world’s smallest bedroom.
After a moment, with my head focused on the keys, I looked up to
the monitor. On the clock, it read 12:24. I needed to leave for lunch, but I
feared I was frozen in the chair. Clicking on the mouse, I set my status as
‘away’.
“On lunch?” a cheerful voice chirped ahead of me.
My supervisor, Kate, she was probably only a few years older than
me. She was always happy, even when dealing with asshole customers.
I hummed, looking at her. “Yeah, I—I’m taking my lunch.” My
body aching where I’d hunched and recovering from what happened. “Is
that—is that ok?”
She nodded. “Of course, make sure you remember to type up your
notes.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
Fizz was a drinks company, very new, and eager for feedback. Part
of me thought they were being paid to call us. I hated that. I was sold the
job on emails, sitting at a desk, and making a salary.
I had dreams. I didn’t want to do this forever. I wanted to save so I
could go visit my online friends. They were the only people who
understood me, and that felt impossible these days.
With my small lunch bag in hand, I walked down the aisle of office
cubicles. Out in the hallway, there were frosted glass windows lining the
wall. They had doors into larger office spaces and meeting rooms. I’d seen
shadows behind them as people paced back and forth.
I went straight to the men’s toilets. I needed to see myself, look
myself in my eyes and reaffirm everything was going to be ok.
It was a daily ritual. Thankfully, nobody was ever in there. A square
room with two toilet stalls and three urinals. It was all fluorescent and
white, harsh as it reflected back in my eyes.
Fizz was located in Manchester. They rented one floor of a large
office building. It was within walking distance from the city centre. Close to
where I was living, but I never had the energy to explore the city.
Pressing the faucet, water gushed out. I cupped a hand and splashed
some of the collected water in my face. It dripped down my chin. My hair
was growing out. Thin, flat to the side of my face as it framed my cheeks,
almost.
Looking at myself in the mirror, the strange lighting unnerved me. I
wore a chunky knit dark blue sweater over an itchy white shirt, thankfully
no tie. It wasn’t my style at all, it didn’t say who I was—unless I was a
corporate drone.
If I knew Kate wouldn’t end up in the kitchen-eating area, I might
have picked a stall and ate my sandwich in there. Nobody came by, and it
was always quite clean.
I’d never worked in an office, so I didn’t know if it was big or small.
In the kitchen-eating area there were three circular tables, and
people were always in there, making coffee, eating, or on the phone.
I saw the same faces, over and over, but I only ever spoke to Kate,
or waving a hand at the others from the customer services team. We were
all of a similar age. I’d just turned twenty-two.
Sitting at an empty table, I prepared myself. My light blue packed
lunch bag had all my things inside. I pulled out my phone and Bluetooth
earphones, followed by a ham sandwich in plastic wrap and a small carton
of orange juice.
I usually had a pastel purple teddy bear case on my phone, but I
removed it before work. My phone felt bare without a case.
I liked to listen to music while I ate, it helped with anxiety and the
nervousness feeling of being watched. Plus, it was calming to listen to the
same music over and over, my lips moving slightly as they synched to the
songs. I knew all the lyrics.
 Halfway through my sandwich, I looked up to see a man. He wore a
light blue shirt with a navy-blue tie. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Green eyes and shaved black hair. His lips moved. I stared, admiring the
dimple in the cheek and stubble catching the light. His hand pressed across
the length of the table.
“Huh?” I grumbled, yanking an earphone out.
Chuckling, he continued to smile. “Are you waiting for someone? I
wanted to know if I could take a chair.” His brows raised on his forehead.
“No, no, you can take it,” I said.
“Sorry for disturbing you.” He planted his hands on the back of the
chair, his forearms flexed to reveal a thick vein running down them.
“I was just—eating lunch.”
He nodded, his smile pulling at the dimple in the side of his cheek.
“I see that,” he said. “Are you new? I’ve seen you around but, I don’t know
where. My name is—”
“I should go,” I said, immediately pushing out my chair, feeling the
anxiety in my stomach. It told me to move; quick, anywhere.
“Right, well, thank you for the chair.”
Flustered, I threw the half-eaten sandwich into the lunch bag and
walked off.
I think I handled it well.
You handled it well, Alexi. I told myself, puffing my cheeks.
Out in the hallway, I rested my back on the wall. Pressing a hand
against my cheek. I was hot.
It was April; I shouldn’t have been sweating through my clothes.
When I worked in a coffee shop, I was just making coffee. It wasn’t
the biggest or best job, but I never felt the burning rush up my cheeks like
this.
 Resting my eyes, I allowed myself to lean more of my body against
the wall. I heard the door swing through the ear without music.
“Oh. I figured you didn’t get far.”
Clutching my bag, I turned. It was the same guy. He was
overstimulating eye candy. From the way he dressed so smartly, to the way
his body language offered up a warm confidence.
Stuck for words, my throat swollen. I stuttered over an introduction.
“Alexi Drake,” he said.
My name? Why was he saying my name?
He presented my grey Totoro-print lanyard with my name badge
attached at the bottom. “I’m guessing this is yours,” he said. “You forgot it
in there.”
That would help. I needed that to get into the building. “Thank you,”
I said, trying to accept the lanyard into my arms, fumbling and juggling my
sandwich bag and phone in them.
“Here, let me,” he said, reaching over my head. He placed it around
my neck. “You won’t lose it that way.”
“Tha—thank you.” My fight or flight in constant flight mode. I
shouldn’t have been flying at all; I didn’t even have a pilot’s license.
“I’m Warren,” he said, holding out a hand. He chuckled, probably at
the sight of my hands being full. “I love Studio Ghibli. I take it My
Neighbour Totoro is your favourite.”
Tongue-tied, I didn’t know how to respond. “I love Kiki’s Delivery
Service, actually,” I finally said. “I love—” my lips pursing together,
scrunched.
“Oh, that’s a good one. Not my favourite, but definitely a top ten.”
Visibly about to crumble into a pile of dust, he smiled. “I should—
get back. I’m—I’m customer services.”
 “Ah, an important part of the business,” he said, “let me know if it
gets too much, I can show you where to blow some steam.”
“R—right, thank you,” I said, a little louder than inside my brain.
I didn’t know what that was, but it made me feel worse. The entire
interaction, replaying it over in my head on the short walk back to the
cubicles.
I was back early, noted by Kate with an enthusiastic wave and a
chuckle as she glanced at her wristwatch.
The last thing I wanted was to look eager, or like I didn’t want to do
the work. How come it was impossible for me to just skate by in the middle,
neither eager, nor uninterested? But on a small team like this, under the
radar didn’t exist.
All it took was a little breathing control, and I could get through the
rest of the day.
I lived in a small flat. I answered an advert on a spare room website.
In all, the flat had two bedrooms, a small bathroom, a living room, and a
small kitchen. It fit three people, me, and a couple. Amelia and Tim, they
were nearly thirty, and as soon as they got pregnant, I would be out on my
ass.
I knew because they’d told me as much. And I also heard them
trying for this baby every single night, sometimes multiple times. I didn’t
think that was physically possible. I rarely saw them, only heard them in the
late hours.
My room had a window facing out on the alley at the back of the
block of flats. It looked over the recycling and general waste bins.
One single bed, and one wall filled with posters of my favourite
films. There was also my small collection of plush toys on my bed. One
wall was my closet and all the costumes and outfits I’d collected. There was
also a small, mounted TV; it was connected to a gaming console.
Since starting work at the company in customer services, I played
every night. I needed it to recharge. For a moment, I liked being Alexi, the
boy who could grow large turnips and sell them for five-thousand gold
pieces.
Other than that, I spent most of my time on a web forum called
LittlesBoysAndToys. That’s where I felt relaxed enough to tell anyone who
asked what I was going through. It’s also where I found more people who
loved what I loved, the feeling, the outfits, the act.
Squeezing my phone into the purple teddy bear case, I laid back on
the bed.
It was too much effort to undress right now, and my skin had
stopped itching.
In one hand, my half-eaten sandwich from lunch, and in my other, I
scrolled through my messages.
BrattyBoy69: Alexi, where have you been all day?
Alexxxi: I had to work. It’s Tuesday. I want to collapse.
BrattyBoy69: Didn’t you visit the group on here? There are men
volunteering to be sugar daddies, but obviously make sure they can offer
you sugar before you give them anything.
I didn’t like the idea of that. I knew he did. People liked him. I was
quiet. I thought being quiet was always something good, until I realised
people hadn’t meant anything good by it.
Alexxxi: I don’t want someone to give me money. I just want that
feeling. You know. I want someone to stroke my hair and whisper in my ear
until I fall asleep.
 BrattyBoy69: I’ll pass on that. I’m happy with men showing their
love language in the form of gifts.
It wasn’t so much I hated gifts, but I preferred people to be there
physically. I also liked to dress and feel cute. But I hadn’t found anyone
who fit me like that. Everyone was so occupied with dumping themselves
into any hole, they didn’t care if they fit.
 2. WARREN
WEDNESDAY

I’d been working at Fizz since it started. I was part of the pitch to the big
companies, and I was there in those late nights with the owner sitting
around a dining table fleshing out ideas.
Before working here, I was writing ad-copy and pitching marketing
ideas for a chocolate brand. A fairly big one in England. I decided on
leaving because I was thirty, and if I wanted to go up the ranks, I’d need to
be there for another ten years.
Marcus Ducet offered me a job, digital marketing executive, with a
small percent ownership of the company too. In my contract it said two
percent, but that wasn’t what interested me. I had big ideas, bold ideas,
ideas that if played right, they could skyrocket my career beyond just
pitching for a single company. I wanted my own agency, or maybe I’d been
watching too much Mad Men. John Hamm did have a twinkle in his eyes,
and that was enough to keep me interested.
“Shit, crap, rubbish, boring,” Marcus listed off. He sighed, pushing
himself out beneath the glass boardroom table.
The boardroom on the office floor was a long room, definitely not
needed for such a small company. He was renting the floor, and he liked
getting all the use out of it. The walls on both sides were windows. One
facing out to the city, the other frosted, facing a hallway. It was currently
occupied by myself, Marcus, and my marketing team. Nick, Gareth, and
Jane.
Marcus paced the length of the room.
I stood. “If you gave us a little bigger budget, we might be to—”
 “No, no,” he approached, raising a finger at me. “I’m not upping a
budget that realistically shouldn’t be as high.”
“In all fairness, the first quarter figures were fantastic,” I said, “and
that was all down to me. You gave me the budget to hire, you didn’t say it
was either hire help or have a working budget.”
I turned to see the three faces looking back at me. They had that
same expressionless worry in their eyes, like they didn’t want to show fear.
It was probably for the best. Marcus was ruthless, and that’s how I knew he
was going places. If he smelled their fear, he might have HR in here signing
termination sheets.
“Jane has the figures for the online ads,” I said, “they’re converting
well. And we have to remember, this is a new business. You have to build
brand awareness.”
“Brand awareness,” he snapped. “I’m employing you for brand
awareness, and yes, first quarter figures were great, but if investors see this
dip, they’ll think that initial high was a fluke. Do you think it was a fluke?”
Looking back at the three employees with their different flavoured
Fizz branded drinks on the table. I shook my head. “No, you have a solid
product, and that’s going to help us when you score those prime
supermarket spots.”
He raised a hand, his fingers curling. He looked like he wanted to
grab something to smash.
“How about this,” I interrupted him mid-action. “We’ll get back to
work on the pitch for next week, and I’ll see what else I can do for brand
awareness. Nick had a great idea about t-shirts with large orders from the
website.”
Marcus’ head turned to a slow nod. “And make sure you’re pushing
the low sugar angle,” he let out through a long exhale.
 I ushered them out of the boardroom. They gathered their images
and papers from the table. I waited behind to see Marcus cool down. He
gulped at a can of red apple Fizz.
He pulled away from the can, burping. He wiped his mouth on a
tissue in his other hand. “I’m not mad,” he let out through a gasp. “I’m
trying to get this thing off the ground, and I feel like it’s being hobbled at
every corner.”
“Hobbled?” I asked with a glimmer of laughter.
“I feel sabotaged.”
Wow, now that was a big word. “I don’t think anyone is sabotaging
you, or the company. It’s got great legs, small legs, but they’re great, and
they’re going places if you let them.”
“Warren,” he let out, puffing his cheeks. “I invested so much money
in this, a lot of it is inheritance money, but that’s what it’s there for. And
only a small percentage of it was investments, but as we grow, I’m going to
want investments, and then eventually for the drinks monopoly to buy me
out and I can go sun myself on a super yacht.”
“Big dreams, for the future,” I said. I knew his dream, he’d told me
about them, over and over. He didn’t want the business at all. He wanted to
make the business look good and put a pretty bow on it so he could sell it. I
knew that’s what he was doing. “I know Shaun is dealing with operations,
but are you sure you can even handle a big order from a supermarket right
now?”
He scoffed. “It’s not about filling the order with the big
supermarkets,” he said, shaking his head. He squeezed the drinks can. “It’s
about getting them interested enough to order.”
“Gotcha!” There was no talking to him about it. It wasn’t my
business, but my name was at stake. I couldn’t be the name attached to a
botched business venture. “I’m going out for lunch today, but don’t worry,
I’ll be thinking about the marketing strategies.”
That was a lie. I needed to do anything but think of that. It wasn’t
that I was creatively blocked, but I didn’t know how to top the first quarter,
and I was an excellent top—at least, with no previous complaints.
Out of the boardroom, I went to the toilets. I need to splash water on
my face after that.
There was someone in there, occupying one of the stalls. Just when I
wanted to give myself a long monologue in the mirror, or a pep talk—the
same thing.
A hitched breath caught my ear.
“You ok in there?” I called out.
There was no reply, but I could hear the heavy breathing. It was
sadness.
“If this is about what Marcus said,” I began.
“Hello?” a soft voice responded.
That wasn’t from my team.
“Oh, sorry, I thought you were—”
The door opened.
With pink eyes and a blotchy face, it was the guy from yesterday. He
stood, slouched in posture. He looked up, wide eyes. He brushed a long hair
behind his ear. “Hi,” he said, pulling at the sleeve of his sweater, collecting
them in his palms.
“Everything ok?”
“I’m fine.”
I knew a lie when I heard one. He wasn’t fine. He’d been crying, or
at the very least upset.
“You work in customer services, right?” I asked.
 He looked away, nodding to himself. He picked up his gaze to the
lanyard around my neck. “Oh,” he muttered. “You’re—you’re from
yesterday.”
“Lose your lanyard again?” I asked, noting he didn’t have it around
his neck.
“It’s in my pocket,” he said. His voice was soft. He finally made eye
contact again. His green eyes were intense, a little wet and raw around the
edges.
“Let me guess,” I said, clicking my tongue. “Asshole customer on
the phone?”
He cracked a smile. “I’m just—” He looked worried, breaking eye
contact again. “It’s nothing.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” I said. “Do you want to go for coffee? We can
trade stories?”
“I can’t—I have to—”
“Nonsense,” I chuckled. “Let me take you for a coffee. I want to
know what happened. If it’s work related, I won’t say a word. If it’s
personal, no pressure. But in all honesty, I would like someone to talk. And
you look like a great listener.”
“You do—I do?”
I nodded back, watching as he blushed pink across his cheeks and
nose. “And it is lunchtime. You can’t be hiding out here alone for lunch. I
won’t let you.”
“I woke up late, so I was—”
“Even better,” I offered back with excitement. I placed my hand on
his shoulder.
He pulled away, stepping back. “I was going to visit one of the
shops, but I can go alone, so you don’t have to make plans with me.”
 “I was going to eat alone, so you’d be doing me a favour,” I said.
Looking at him, his aversion to eye contact and touch. I felt for him.
I wanted to take him in my arms and squeeze him. The way I would a dog.
“Ok,” he agreed.
“We can compare stories,” I chuckled. “My team are great, but they
nearly all got fired today because the owner won’t put any more money into
marketing.” I rolled my eyes and gesticulated with a hand in the air.
“Oh no,” he grumbled, a pain on his clenched face. “That doesn’t
sound nice.”
“It’s fine, it’s ok,” I said, “of course, he was just annoyed because of
reasons.” I couldn’t go around telling everyone company business, even if
he did have the type of face that made me want to express every feeling I’d
ever had. “I’ll just say, the business is profitable, but he wants more profit.”
He cracked another smile. “That’s capitalism, I guess.”
I snickered at the comment. “For that, I’ll buy you lunch.”
“And that’s communism, but I don’t think my comment is equal to
lunch.”
Shaking my head as I locked eyes with him again, catching him in a
smile. He seemed intelligent. “Maybe not, but I think being forced into
spending your lunch break with me is definitely worth something.”
He pressed his lips together a little, the smile fading again. In the
swell of my chest as it dipped and rose with each breath, I wanted to keep
him smiling. It was an easy thing to achieve. I didn’t know why more
people didn’t try to have people smiling. It was free.
 3. ALEXI

I was nervous around him. It wasn’t the type of nervousness that came
when I was on a call with an angry customer, and it wasn’t the type of
anxiety where I couldn’t find earplugs to stop myself listening to people in
the flat having sex.
This type of nervousness came not knowing what he wanted from
me. Twice now, yesterday, and today. It felt like he sought me out, and this
time I was partly being forced to go out with him for lunch.
We were a few minutes from the office building. He led the way on
foot. He dressed so smartly. He smiled. It was comforting and warming
when he looked back.
Down an alley. It led to a small street lined with stalls and shops.
“This is my favourite place,” he said.
The coffee shop, Ferrara’s Café seemed empty.
“Where do you want to sit?” he asked, “by the window or near the
back?”
I hated quick decisions like this, my hand clutching at the ends of
my sweater. It was becoming a little damp in my palms from where I knew
I was being weird and anxious. I told myself, it was all for nothing, and go
with the flow. Another daily mantra. Nobody ever stuck out when they went
with the flow, and I never wanted to stick out.
He took my silence and non-answer and lead us to the back of the
coffee shop. He pulled out a chair for me, smiling with a full width of his
lips up his cheeks, dimpling in one corner.
I looked away, back at the table after making eye contact.
He sat opposite. “I try and come here every day,” he said, “it’s
usually a little busy, actually.”
 I placed my hands on the table. My fingers still hooked around the
ends of my sleeves. “I like the quiet,” I told him.
“I usually order a coffee and a baguette. I never finish it, so we can
share.” His brows raised, his head almost bobbing and weaving as he tried
to catch my eye.
“Ok, what—what type?”
“I like ham, or tuna, and they do all types of bread. All made here.
It’s nice, actually.”
Ding. The bell above the door rang. I flinched to look and see more
people walk inside. A gaggle of women.
“I don’t—I don’t mind.”
He stood. “I’ll go now before the queue forms,” he chuckled. “Tea?
Coffee?”
“Coffee, yes,” I said, “actually—” my tongue froze in my mouth.
He paused, expecting an answer. “You look like a chocolate person,
something sweet, right?” he asked with a grin. “What about a mocha?”
Smiling, I couldn’t help it. “Yeah. Please.”
“Whipped cream?”
Trying not to look like a maniac with my smile as he smiled back. I
nodded. “Please, and thank you.” Turning my head, dipping my chin into
my shoulder. “Thank you,” I repeated once more to myself.
After a moment of gathering my composure, I caught him staring
and smiling at me. It sent my stomach into knots. People weren’t usually
nice. In my experience, nobody was nice unless they wanted something.
Maybe he was being nice because he saw me upset. Maybe this was all
sympathy. I didn’t like either option my brain threw at me. My brain walls
were large enough to collect the debris; something was going to stick. A
thought always stuck.
 With my hands on the table, I turned them over to see my
fingernails. I’d painted them pale blue last night. I liked the colour. I’d
ordered it online. I didn’t like to go into shops and look for colours, so I had
to go with the colours I saw on the website.
I forgot to remove it. I hadn’t realised it was still on. The colour
matched the new costume I bought. It was a baby blue sailor outfit, the top
cropped, the shorts tight. They cinched into my waist. I had fishnets too,
and a sailor hat.
“Right,” he said, approaching with a tray in hand.
“Thank you.” I grab the ends of my sleeves again.
He placed the tray on the table. “Mocha for you, squirty cream and
cocoa powder on top. Latte for me, with some superb latte art. And I got a
ham and lettuce baguette. Cut down the middle to share.” He had the nicest
smile I’d seen in a long time, and it felt wrong to be admiring him for
something like a smile. I didn’t even know what type of person he was.
“And I treated you to a cream puff, they’re delicious.”
“I’ll pay you back,” I immediately said.
He scoffed. “It’s my treat.”
“Thank you.”
“So, we’ve got coffee, and we’ve got something to eat. Do you want
to talk about your day?”
I didn’t know what I wanted. I knew what I didn’t want, and that
was working there. It made my stomach curdle to think about the people on
those calls.
“So?” he prompted, grabbing at a sugar packet from the corner of
the tray. “I guess I’ll go first. My day was going well, then we had the
marketing meeting with Marcus. He owns the company. He’s—” as my
eyes crossed over him, he wasn’t looking at me this time. “He’s a handful,
but you can’t tell him I said that. I think he listened to one of those
motivation podcast things where they’re like, act for the job you want and
not the job you have. I thought he was going to go all Devil Wears Prada on
us at one point.”
“Devil Wears Prada,” I repeated.
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “it’s a classic, Meryl Streep, Anne Hathaway.”
I suppose it wasn’t beyond the realm that everyone knew of the film
and those iconic scenes. And I guess it made sense for him. He had great
fashion sense. I, on the other hand, was reduced to wearing this baggy
sweater and shirt. It was the only business casual thing I owned that made
me feel even the slightest bit comfortable.
“I wanted to quit today,” I let out, looking at the cream spill over the
side of my cup. “I don’t like to talk on the phones, it makes me—” My jaw
tightened. My back straightened.
“I’m glad you didn’t,” he said. “I know what anxiety looks like.”
His soft voice speaking in my ear. I felt like he looked directly into my
brain. “I’ve known people who’ve suffered with it.”
“Is that why you asked me for coffee?” I asked, still avoiding eye
contact. “It was a nice gesture, but I—”
His hand crossed the length of the table. “I asked you for coffee
because I hate spending lunch breaks in that bleak kitchen or at my desk
looking through spreadsheets,” he said, “plus, you have this—this really
delicate way about yourself, and I find that interesting.”
Tilting my chin, I looked up at him. I’d never been described like
that in person before, in pictures, I’d seen it, the words, the compliments,
but to hear it from someone. I wanted to sink from the chair to the floor.
“It’s a compliment,” he added, but that was obvious. “Plus, you love
Totoro. He’s my favourite.”
 With my lips butting together to stop me from talking, I nodded and
hummed.
“You don’t have to be shy around me,” he continued, “but I don’t
mind, like I said, I bet you’re a great listener.”
“Thank you,” I mustered.
“And do I have your word that anything I tell you, stays between the
two of us?” he asked, his smile picking at that damn dimple on his cheek.
I nodded.
“Great, because I have so many great ideas for the company, and
some of them are stupid, but some of them could catapult Fizz to compete
with—with—” he snapped his fingers, the sound triggering my throat to
clench. “You know, the likes of Coca-Cola and energy drinks.”
I nodded, feeling a little comfort as I reached across to grab at a
small spoon from the side of the tray. Revealing my hand and the blue
polished fingernails.
“I love the nails.”
“Thank you.” I pulled my arm back to scoop at the whipped cream
with cocoa powder.
After he finished his story about how he got the job, he took a
breath, placing his hands on his chest with a sigh. “It’s been a whirlwind
since,” he said, “what about you? How did you get roped into customer
services?”
I wished I could’ve been straight forward with him. He was warm
and welcoming, and he put my anxieties at ease, somewhat. “It’s not as
interesting as your story,” I told him.
He tutted. “Well, we should think about getting back,” he said. “You
barely touched the sandwich; I can get it wrapped for you.” He smiled. “But
you devoured that cream puff. They’re delicious, right?”
Pressing my lips together in a thin line across my face, I nodded.
 4. WARREN
FRIDAY

I met Alexi again yesterday. He seemed to open up a little more. He was

easy to talk to, and he had a gorgeous smile when he did. I caught his eye a
couple of times across the table.
And again, we met up, and I was already beginning to feel strange
and annoyed that I wouldn’t get to see him over the weekend.
“Ok, so you know the idea you mentioned yesterday,” I began,
setting the tray on the table at the coffee shop. He didn’t seem too shy about
immediately pressing his finger into the squirty cream of his mocha and
licking it off.
“The one about the food festival?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, well, Marcus said it was a great idea. He said the
city council had mentioned the food festival for small businesses and he
totally passed the idea by because he doesn’t do food.” I was quite excited
about it. There was a lot to do and a lot to plan. It was also a great way to be
out in the city. “He even asked who had the idea—and—”
“Oh, no, no.”
“I—” In his eyes, I could see the trepidation, I could see there was
something akin to fear. He didn’t want the recognition. He didn’t even want
anyone to know about these coffee dates. “I told him it was someone I’d
been going for lunch with.”
“Oh, what did he say?”
“He asked me if it was a lunch date,” I answered, grinning at him
across the table.
“Date?” he clutched at himself. “I’m—uh—”
 “Fuck.” I couldn’t look at him. I’d made a fool of myself. I was
trying to feel him out for his current situation, and I wanted to know if he
was single. He had to have been queer. At least, all the signs I’d seen said as
much. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I finally said, breaking
the silence.
“It’s—it’s ok,” he answered. “I’m just—”
“You’re dating someone, probably. That makes sense, everyone is
dating someone these days. Situationships or whatever.”
“No, I’m—no, I’m not dating anyone.”
So he wasn’t gay? “We should go back to talking about the meeting
I had, and I think—I think—” oh gosh, now even I was stuttering my way
through, and I knew I was very forthright and confident in all situations.
Alexi was suddenly my kryptonite. “Well, Marcus said it was a good idea. I
know you might not have wanted your name attached, but I did mention it
would be great to have someone from customer services there.”
I could see the cogs turning behind his eyes. He was looking around
and he was trying not to make eye contact. In fact, he was trying to look at
anyone else in the coffee shop, other than me.
“I’m still—I’m still thinking of quitting,” he mentioned, softly. It
was the third time he’d brought it up. The first time was Wednesday, then
yesterday, and again today.
“Because of—”
“Not you,” he immediately responded to my train of thought. “I’m
not a good fit.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “You have great ideas. You’re
intelligent. I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.”
He nodded. “It’s not that. But I’m not someone who does what you
do. I don’t—I can’t—” his eyes shifty as he continued to look around,
worried we were being listened to, I imagined.
I sipped on the latte, looking across at him as he sighed. “I have a
question.”
He smiled for a moment, looking at me. “One question.”
I nodded. “Is that all I get?”
“Yes,” he said, snickering. “And you just used it.”
I clicked my tongue, grinning at his humour. “Well, what are you
doing this weekend?”
He shrugged.
“I’m sure you’re busy. You strike me as a busy man,” I said.
“I could say the same for you.” He hummed, wiggling his brows.
As Alexi reached for the coffee cup, I noticed a small pink ribbon on
his wrist. Reaching out for it, his hand flinched. He covered the ribbon with
his shirt sleeve. He looked uncomfortable, sat on the chair, his chin to his
chest.
“What is it?” I asked.
Slowly, he pressed his hand across the table. “I—I found it on—on a
box.”
“It’s a nice colour for you.” I ran my finger across the side of his
hand. “You like nice things?”
He brushed a long hair framing his cheek behind an ear. “It’s nice,
yeah.” He blushed.
“So, are you going to avoid my other question? What are your plans
tonight?”
Alexi pulled his hand away, clutched at his chest. “Probably playing
video games. I’ve been playing this farm game.” He looked at me briefly.
“It sounds silly—”
 “No, no,” I said, wanting to reach for his hand again. He was
precious. I wanted to wrap him in my arms. “I don’t have plans. But I do
like video games.”
“Nice, well—”
“And I live alone.”
“That’s—”
“Do you want to play with me?”
We locked eyes, his beautiful eyes blinked wildly. “I—um—”
That was more than one question. I wondered if he was going to
give me a straightforward answer or not.
“What if I give you my number?” I said, “or social media? I tried to
find you, you know, but there’s no Alexi Drake online.”
He hummed, squinting at me for a moment. “My game is very
demanding. I don’t want my farm to have too much overgrowth.”
I clicked my tongue again, patting a hand at my chest. “I thought I
told you, I’m an excellent farm hand. I’m like level 99.”
“Well,” he giggled, “you don’t really level like that, but you can text
me.” He reached into the small backpack he’d snuggled on his knee. It was
a pale blue, like the chipped colour on his nails.
“Maybe I can make you something to eat as well,” I suggested.
“Maybe not a sandwich though.” I nodded to the half of the sandwich cut
for him on the tray. But perhaps a cream puff, he liked those.
Alexi pulled out a pastel purple phone covering. It was shaped like a
bear. I couldn’t deny him that he had a vibe, a look, and how much he hated
to wear those sweaters. If he had to be put into a box, he’d be a soft boy. I
imagined him dressed in my dinosaur onesie, making dinosaur sounds.
“Ok,” he said, tapping his fingertips against the back of his phone
case. “What’s your number?”
 After giving him my number, I took another sip of my latte. The art
completely destroyed now. “I had another question, actually.”
“It’s like an off-brand Care Bear. I did have a Totoro one, but I got a
new phone, and it doesn’t fit,” he said, his fingers tapping against the
casing.
“It’s a nice colour,” I said. “When we make plans, you should wear
whatever you feel comfortable in.”
He hunched his shoulders, pulling at the fabric of the shirt. “One of
the reasons I’d quit,” he said, “I like—”
Sipping the coffee, I waited for him to finish his sentence. I doubted
he would. He did that often. Almost like he got a whiff of confidence and
then it disappearing with a finger snap.
“Tonight?” I asked.
“Tonight?”
I nodded. “I’m free. But maybe you’d feel more comfortable talking
later.”
He smiled, shaking his head. “Is this so you can get more amazing
ideas for your job?”
“One of the reasons,” I chuckled, but it wasn’t. More than anything,
I wanted him to open up, and he wasn’t going to do that here. He was like a
wrapped box, and I was slowly opening him, like the ribbon on his wrist. I
was pulling at the contents, trying to find out what was going on inside his
head.
He pulled the cup to his face, getting whipped cream on the tip of
his nose. He blushed. He was so adorable, and he was melting me. I felt far
detached from the stress of Marcus around him.
I reached out to his face with a napkin. This time he allowed my
hand to reach him. With the napkin at my thumb, I wiped the cream from
his nose. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh,” he snickered.
“You have a cute smile,” I said, wondering if now I was coming on
too strong. He didn’t seem to smile for anyone. At least, the times I’d
walked by him in secret earlier today and yesterday, he was always focused
on the monitor of his computer, always somewhat detached.
He sipped at the mocha. This time as he pulled it away there was a
small moustache of cream on his upper lip. “Do you want me to get that?” I
asked. I wondered if he was half-waiting for me to wipe his face again with
the napkin. Instead, seconds later, he stuck his tongue out and licked it
away. “All done, I guess.” I chuckled.
Alexi Drake was a mystery, and I wanted to pour myself over him
like a blanket—or a nice gin over ice.
 5. ALEXI

Warren was forward. I liked that. I liked that he was giving me the option to
have lunch with him, and then basically telling me we were having lunch
anyway. He almost made it sound like I was doing him a favour rather than
the other way around.
He gave me his number. I struggled to decide whether to text or call.
I did neither. I wasn’t someone who made plans; I liked it when other
people did. It made me nervous.
He wanted to do something tonight. He liked to play video games.
He liked the same movies as me. He even complimented me on my
fingernails, but they were chipped. I’m surprised there weren’t little blue
flecks of polish on my lips from biting them.
So I did what I knew best. I spoke to Benny on the forum.
BrattyBoy69: He was flirting with you!
Alexxxi: No, he wasn’t, he was just being nice. I don’t have friends
there; I think he just felt sorry for me.
BrattyBoy69: He’s definitely into you! I thought you said you
wanted to get laid, especially after what happened with Dennis. I thought
you were ready to get back out there.
Alexxxi: I am ready... I think!
BrattyBoy69: Have you texted him? He clearly wants to go on a
date with you!
Alexxxi: I think he just wants to play video games.
BrattyBoy69: Sure! *wink wink* You best text him!
Alexxxi: What if he’s not interested in me that way?
BrattyBoy69: What I do when I meet up with someone new for the
first time. I wear clothes beneath my clothes, baggy clothes preferably to
hide what’s underneath. If they’re not interested, that’s fine, I still feel great,
and if they’re interested, they’ll go along with it.
It had been a while since I’d been intimate with anyone. I wanted
that; I liked being intimate. I just didn’t want to feel hurt. That was the one
emotion I didn’t feel I could handle.
In the small box room, sitting on my bed filled with plush teddies to
comfort me, I was looking into the open closet. All my different outfits,
they made my skin tingle and the fuzz prickle up the side of my cheek. I
had memories with some of them, at least the memory of how I felt wearing
them.
There was the French maid dress with the black and white, the silk
and lace, the thrills. My thigh twitched and my toes curled to think about
the stockings, followed by the warmth of memories. Like a hand as it
tickled up the inside of my thigh.
BrattyBoy69: Also, if you’re not sure, you should wear a pair of
dungarees, you have that nice pink pair you sent me a picture of right?
Hanging in the closet, they hadn’t seen love in a couple weeks. The
pant leg rolled up still. It was a nice colour, but it was pink, I didn’t want to
out myself. I thought the fingernails and the phone case would’ve, but it
hadn’t. And he still wanted to play games and watch films.
I didn’t know what his plan was. I still hadn’t texted him. That was
something my anxiety was still trying to overcome, and I was distracting
myself by looking at clothes instead.
Grabbing at my phone.
—Hi. I sent him.
Instantly, he replied.
—Hello, I was beginning to think you saved the wrong number.
—No, no.
 —So, do you still want to come over? We can play games I have a
couple consoles. Or we could watch a film? I can cook.
It was a lot.
—Sure.
It was the only thing I could say. I didn’t want to agree outright to
anything, but once I was there, I could see what it was all about. Maybe he
wanted to do more than play games, and maybe he just wanted a friend.
—Maybe in an hour? I’ll send you my address. If you live far, I can
order you an Uber.
—Ok. Yeah, an hour.
—Right, that gives me time to shower.
He was showering. People didn’t shower before meeting someone to
watch films and play games with unless they thought they were going to be
getting close.
Alexxxi: Ok! I texted him. I’m meeting him tonight.
BrattyBoy69: Send me pics of your outfit!
Alexxxi: I still need to decide. Look at my closet.
I sent him a picture. I’d never met him before, but we knew each
other through the forum, and we’d been talking for what seemed like years.
BrattyBoy69: Obvi the dungarees. Rainbow t-shirt. OMG! It’s
cropped. I support it.
Alexxxi: But I’ll be cold in that.
BrattyBoy69: Annnnd a sweater, the purple one. Is that the one with
the bear on it?
It was. It was also a little fluffy on the inside too. I’d slept in that
sweater more times than I could remember. Sometimes it fit my entire body
in as long as my knees were pushed up to my chest.
 There was a long mirror against the wall in the bedroom. It wasn’t
wide, it could only occupy the slither of wall to the side. I was fairly slim,
nothing spectacular to look at.
I watched myself as I stripped from the clothes I’d worn to go to
work in. I went all the way down to the lace underwear I wore beneath the
black jeans. It was a nude lace, my cock filling out the front. I liked the way
it felt against my skin. The lace and string up my waist, sitting on my hips.
There was a little hair above my cock. If I were getting laid, I’d need to
shave that.
Removing the underwear, my cock had a lacy imprint on it. I
touched at it, only arousing the skin over my penis as it grew a little thicker.
Since meeting Warren, every time I touched myself, I’d think of his
face, the roughness to the stubble and imagining how it would feel going
down my neck and chest with his lips to lubricate a landing strip down my
body.
I stopped myself before it went further than a semi. I needed to
shower. If he was showering, then I should shower. I wanted to be prepared
in case we were going to fuck. Thinking about it was a call to action from
my cock, asking me if I was ready to board the arousal train. Not quite yet.
I didn’t let myself go further. After a cold shower, I rushed back to
my room. There was a text from Warren and a notification from the forum.
Firstly, to the forum while I towel dried.
BrattyBoy69: Did you go? I want to see the outfit!
BrattyBoy69: Also, make sure to give me—or someone the address
just in case you go missing.
Alexxxi: I just showered. I’m nervous.
I had my outfit picked out and laid on the bed. I liked the colours. It
looked soft; it filled me with a comfort and a warmth my heart and body
craved.
It was going to be paired with some lace panties, because they made
me feel complete and sexy. And of course, the stockings. The sensation of
them rolled up my legs made my toes curl. I closed my eyes and allowed
myself to imagine what tonight might hold.
I still hadn’t responded to the text from Warren.
—My address. Let me know if you need an Uber. Also, do you have
any food allergies?
He lived about a ten-minute walk away. I could probably use the
walk to help me clear my mind, but I also hated the thought of sweating up
with anxiety.
—I’ll send you my address. I just got out of the shower.
My heart throbbing through my chest at the thought he would know
where I lived, even if he didn’t really know my living situation.
Dressed. I admired myself in the mirror. You could see the lace of
the underwear up at my hip. I would definitely need to wear the purple
teddy bear sweater to keep myself covered up.
I took two pictures to send Benny on the forum, one with and one
without the sweater.
BrattyBoy69: I love it! Make sure to add a little pink on your
cheeks and a little Vaseline on your lips.
Of course, that would complete the look and the feeling. Inside the
drawer of the bedside table, I had a makeup palette of natural colours and
blushes. I also had my tinted Vaseline and nail polishes in there too. In my
small backpack, I packed a couple different nail polishes and my Vaseline.
In the mirror, I looked at myself. I dabbed a finger at the eyeshadow
palette; the red-pink. I lightly tapped it against my cheek and in buffed it in
with a circular motion.
I was pretty.
 6. WARREN

Alexi was an enigma of nervous energy, and I felt for him. I truly did. I
wanted to hold him close and squeeze him in my arms. It was the only thing
I’d been thinking about since I saw him with his head back against the wall
in the hallway.
He looked flustered, the same way he looked whenever I asked him
to speak about himself. He did, in little bits, here and there. Most of it was
me talking at him. He was a great listener; nodding and playing with the
whipped cream in his cup.
He also didn’t look comfortable at his desk in the office. Not that I
was spying, but I was curious, and I wanted to know all I could about him
and his cute, oversized clothing.
I’d been complimenting him, watching him blush. He must have
known I was gay, I assumed as much from him. The nail polish, the way he
held himself, and I saw the tinted lip moisturiser. But there wasn’t much I
could find online for him, the elusive Alexi Drake.
Perhaps meeting at my place might have pull him out of his shell,
and that was my thinking. I wanted him to come over; I wanted to get him
comfortable, the way I saw him ease around me. I felt like a protective bear,
and not only because I hadn’t shaved my chest since I was twenty-three, but
also because he made me feel that way.
My phone dinged with the Uber notification. He’d arrived.
My flat wasn’t large, it was the seventh floor of complex near the
centre of the city. It was expensive, but I was paid well for my position at
the company. I’d only moved in about four months ago.
The living room, kitchen, and dining room were all sprawled into
one. The bedroom was large, with a double bed and a small walk-in closet,
as well as an en-suite bathroom. The place had just been renovated before I
moved in.
I had my own nervous feelings, and perhaps he genuinely thought
this was going to be games and films while we spoke to each other. I didn’t
mind that idea, but I needed some form of intimacy soon or I might be
resigned to the act of backbreaking autofellatio. I couldn’t suck my own
dick—I’d tried.
In the lifetime it took since the notification to the knock at the door,
I’d looked at myself in the mirror no more than ten times.
I hadn’t shaved, and I wore a Ghibli t-shirt; it was old, and there was
a stain at the bottom of it. I knew it’s what he liked, so I wanted him to at
least be enthusiastic about being here. I also wore a pair of black jeans with
rips on the knees. They were casual enough but not too casual that I seemed
ready to slip out and straight into bed.
Alexi stood in the doorway, his hair pulled back with a hair tie,
leaving two strands of hair down the sides of his cheeks. He clutched his
small backpack. He was—different.
In the light of the hallway, I caught the glisten of his lips and a
flushed pink to his cheeks glowing. He smiled, without prompt or joke. He
was smiling. Perhaps it was the t-shirt.
“Welcome,” I said, opening the door wider as I expressed an arm for
him inside. “This is where I live, alone.” I added, I’m sure he got the
message.
As he passed me into the flat, he smelled like mint. It was delicious.
I wondered if he was chewing gum, and whether he’d be willing to share—
from his mouth.
“I like your t-shirt,” he said, his head tilted up, looking around.
 “Take a seat, take a seat,” I said, hurrying ahead of him to present
the large open room. “So, I was thinking, we could order food, play games,
watch films. You know, talk about something that’s not work related.”
He nodded back. “It’s nice.” He clutched at his bag a little closer to
the bear’s face on his sweater.
“I have all the games, and I am willing to play whatever you like,
and please, make yourself comfortable.”
He sat on the leather chair; it was deceptively soft. The moment he
sat on it, he started to sink into the cushion. A wide smile on his face. “Oh
wow.”
“It’s so comfy,” I said. “Do you want a drink?”
Alexi had wide eyes. He giggled, patting at the sofa. In the short
amount of time I’d known him, he didn’t smile like this.
Opening the fridge, I looked at the contents. I’d just been shopping
yesterday, so it was stocked. “I have wine, fruit cider, of course, Fizz-
branded drinks, they make great mixers for rum or vodka.”
“Um, can I just—” the smile vanished. Oh no. He probably didn’t
drink.
“Water, cordial, fruit juice too,” I continued, like I’d meant to.
“I’ll take a water,” he said. “Thank you. I should really have a glass
of wine. I get really nervous.”
“No pressure,” I said.
“You can have wine, I’ll probably have one when I’m—” he paused,
he did that a lot. I didn’t mind it. I found it quite sweet, like he was second
guessing himself. His head turned to me, smiling.
“If there’s anything I can do to make you feel less nervous, let me
know.”
 I poured myself a small glass of white wine and I poured a glass of
water for him. Setting them both on the coffee table.
Beside Alexi as I sat, this was the closest, physically that we’d been.
His adorable smile, his wide eyes, he was looking at the TV on the wall. It
was already on one of the streaming services, their logo ping-ponging back
and forth across the screen.
“You seem so innocent,” I said. “I hate to think of you listening to
complaints and suggestions all day. But I don’t want to talk about work. So,
there are two options. I can make you whatever food you like, from scratch,
because I have taken cooking classes in nearly every cuisine. Or we can
order out.”
What started out with a smile turned to confusion, possibly over the
complication of what I was asking and all the choices I brought up. He was
overwhelmed.
“If I say pizza, what do you say?” I asked, perhaps easier.
“Pepperoni,” he answered, the smile returning. “And do you have
ice cream?”
“Absolutely. I’d be a monster not to have ice cream,” I chuckled
back. “I like this.” I reached out to rub my thumb at the sweater. He didn’t
flinch.
“Thank you, it’s really warm.”
“If you get too warm, you can take it off,” I said, “I mean, as long as
you feel comfortable. You have a t-shirt on, right?” I asked. “But it’s fine if
you don’t, the flat gets hot, and I mostly walk around without a t-shirt on,
anyway.” My hand immediately at the bottom of my t-shirt, ready to yank it
over my head.
Alexi immediately grabbed at my hand to stop me. He chuckled. “I
have a t-shirt on,” he said, “if I get warm, I’ll take it off.” He pulled his
hand away, his shoulder hunching as he shrank inside it.
“I was thinking of taking this off anyway, it’s got a stain,” I said, “I
just put it on because it’s Studio Ghibli. It’s a super old t-shirt as well.” I
pulled at the end of the t-shirt, stretching it out slightly, the neck of it
stretching out to reveal a patch of my chest hair through it.
“Hairy,” he said.
“It makes my chest look bigger,” I said, puffing out and flexing my
pecs a little.
There was excitement in his eyes at the action. He liked that.
“I haven’t ever grown chest hair, well, I do go over it with a razor in
the shower, so maybe it’s that,” he chuckled. It was the first time he looked
comfortable to share something openly without being asked..
“I don’t see you wearing tight clothes, so you probably don’t need it
to buff out your chest,” I said.
He grabbed at the ends of the sweater, tugging it up. He moved to
tug at the sleeves, removing it from over his head. As he removed the
sweater, my eyes occupied his body. He was in a pair of dungarees with a
rainbow crop top. He was slim with a beige contrasting lace sitting on his
hipbone, travelling down one side of the muscle.
“Wow,” I mustered. “Do you—do you like to dress up?”
Pulling the rest of the sweater overhead, his gaze met mine and
travelled to the underwear.. “I—um—it’s—”
“It looks nice.”
“Sorry, I think I misread this,” he said, clutching his sweater into a
ball against his chest. “I just—I thought—I—I thought you were—you were
flirting.”
I was. I had been. He was panicking.
With a hand, I placed it behind his neck, my grasp in control.
Turning his head to mine. I kissed him.
His lips were soft.
He smelled like delicate mint leaf.
I wanted to consume him.
 7. ALEXI

I didn’t expect him to kiss me. I wanted him to, but I didn’t expect it. Benny
was right, I think the outfit was what sold it, and maybe also the lip tint too.
Guys seemed unable to resist the look of a slightly wet lip.
“Sorry,” Warren apologised, pulling away. “Is it ok that I—that I
kissed you?”
“I liked it.”
“Good,” he said, his warm hand behind my head on my neck. I
pressed the side of my chin into him, allowing it to caress the side of his
hand. “So—” He was looking at my skin where the crop top ended. “Is it
just lace? Or do you like different things too?”
The question. It wasn’t lace. It wasn’t like that. I didn’t know how
much of myself I could let him in on; I didn’t know how much of myself I
wanted to let him into.
I’d seen the little patch of hair on his chest, I’d seen the rough
stubble on his cheek, I’d even felt it press against my upper lip as he kissed
me. His soft hand still on the back of my neck. It was the first time I’d
given into someone else’s touch in a long while.
I was panicking. I flinched, dodging his hand on me. Suddenly
unsure of everything, and the walls of the flat appeared to creep in.
“Hey, hey,” he said, “hey.” His words softly spoken. “I’m not going
to judge you. For what it’s worth, I love to play dress up, and you look so—
so soft, the type I want to hold tight against my body.” His hand at my chin,
cupping it. He caressed with a finger and a thumb. “What are you into?”
It wasn’t easy to trust people, especially when they came out of
nowhere. But Warren hadn’t hit on me when we first met, this wasn’t some
drunken meet. He was actually sweet and sincere in every word.
 “I like soft, comfortable, and nice things,” I said, the words slow
from my tongue as though they were stuck. “I’ve—I’ve not been with
anyone in over a year.” An admission I felt left my chest lighter.
He smiled, his hand stroking at my chin. I was letting go of the
pressure from the sweater against my chest. “I’ve not been with anyone
since last summer. That’s—like, nine months ago.”
“Why not?”
“Busy,” he shrugged, removing his hand. “I work every single day, I
work hard, and then I come home. I’m too drained to do anything. I play
video games, I watch films.” He pulled at the end of his t-shirt again. It was
a cute t-shirt, a little worn, but cute.
“My friend said you were flirting, and I didn’t believe him,” I said,
feeling the words slip from my tongue. There was an ease when it came to
talking to him here. “I told him you were just being nice.”
“I was flirting,” he said. “Am I your type?”
That was a difficult question. There was more to just how a person
looked. But he ticked a lot of those boxes on my checklist. “That depends
on whether you like the same things as me.”
He smirked, trying to push it away a little. “I’ve seen a lot of things,
and I know a lot of stuff. I think I have something you’d be interested in.”
He placed his hand on my knee, patting it. “I once saw a guy who loved to
play, he liked to dress in similar colours, soft, pastel, he also liked to call me
—” he paused, my heart beginning to beat up a storm. I wanted to know
where he was going with this.
“What—what did he—”
Warren looked away for a moment, looking at the wine glass on the
table. “Maybe it’s the attention and affection I give, but he liked to call me
daddy.”
 “Daddy,” I repeated through a breathless rush of adrenaline.
He smiled. “That ended like so many years ago, I can’t count. But it
was one of the most passionate relationships I had. He loved to play; we
were even—.”
“Oh.”
“Fuck, I just ruined the mood,” he chuckled, “rule number one,
don’t talk about exes, right?”
I couldn’t say anything. My ex had been caring and sweet, he’d been
someone I thought was my entire life, and I thought I was his entire life too.
It turned out; I was just one of several boys he was with. I was nineteen
when it started, and we were together for a year and a half. It’s why I didn’t
entertain men for an entire year. I couldn’t trust them.
I threw myself to Warren, wrapping my arms around his neck and
kissing him. I didn’t want to talk exes, but I did want to kiss him again.
Warren laid back, taking me with him on the comfy couch. The
balled knot of the sweater between us. His arms wrapped around my back.
He was strong. I was giving in to his touch. I enjoyed it, allowing him to
take over.
Pausing, I pulled away, sitting upright on his chest—straddling him.
His hand still on my back, stroking up and down in a line.
“You look strong,” I said, reaching out a hand to feel the muscle of
his chest.
“You feel light,” he said, lifting me as he arched his back slightly.
“We’re do you want to go with this?”
“You have to be nice; you have to be gentle, and you have to be
slow,” I said, softly, nodding to him.
“You want to be my little boy?” he asked, “because I have room for
one.” He reached for my hand and pulled it to his chest again, right over his
heart. I could feel it throb.
I nodded. The heat in my face. The stir in my stomach, right above
my cock. It was ticklish.
“I’ll be everything you want,” he said.
He didn’t even know what I wanted, but inside, I knew he would be
everything. “Can I call you—”
“Whatever you want, baby,” he said, stroking a hand up my arm, his
soft touch warm on my skin. “Just say what you want, and it’s yours.”
He’d done this before. The confidence in his voice. The care in his
eyes. The electric tickle in my stomach pulled my face into a wide smile.
With the end of my tongue, I licked it across the bottom lip, tasting the light
slick Vaseline coating. “Daddy.”
Hungry, he looked he was trying to unwrap me. His hands all over
me, he was growing restless. I liked that. I wanted him to continue up with
the warmth of his attention.
“You know,” he said, lifting himself slightly. I was on his lap, my
legs around his waist. “I thought I saw it in you, the way you hold yourself,
the way you don’t make eye contact. You’re shy, but I hope you won’t be
shy around me.” He brushed the loose bit of hair behind my ear.
I lifted my hand, placing it on his cheek, my thumb at the dimple. I
liked the soft roughness to the stubble. “I’m not always shy.”
“I see that.”
I kissed him again, pressing my face to his. His tongue was gentle,
prodding against my lips, asking to enter. He tasted sweet, like the wine
he’d poured. My cock, a little uncomfortable, strained against the lace
without any of the usual adjustments when I became aroused.
“Are you a good boy?” he asked. “I can’t say I’ve met many who
play, but I know good boys deserve, long, cuddles, and bad boys deserve to
be punished. Right?”
“I’m a good boy.”
“What does a good boy like you want to do?” he asked. “We have
all night unless you want daddy to choose. I know how to take care of a
good boy.”
A warm tingle travelled my neck, flushed with goosepimples.
“Daddy always choses,” I told him. I didn’t like to make decisions. In fact,
the thought of it was enough for me to avoid eye contact with him again.
I didn’t like the expectation that something I decided would impact
someone else.
“I don’t think we should jump into anything,” he said, “I think we
should play some games, and I actually have something you’ll look great
in.”
“Oh?” I locked eyes with him, the wide playfulness; full of ideas.
“Wait here,” he said, “you’ll love it, but I’ll have to get you one in
your size.”
“My size?”
“If this is a regular thing,” he said, “which I hope it will be, I want
to get you something that fits.”
Pulling away from his body and back onto the couch, he stood. As
he walked, I watched him stick his hand into his trousers, adjusting himself.
I needed to do the same before my cock decided to burst from the
side of the lace underwear. The lace was like a mess, a peachy flesh tone
mesh.
Once he was in another room, I stuck my hand into the dungarees,
slipped in through the front. The skin above my cock freshly shaved. It felt
odd, it always did, but I liked the way it felt. I grabbed at my dick and
pulled it vertically.
 “Ok, you don’t have to wear it, but I bet you’d look cute in it,” he
said. “I already had it out, because I thought if you stayed over you’d wear
it.”
Over his arms, a light green hooded onesie. There was a tail to it and
small cloth horns. “A dinosaur?”
He nodded. “It might be a big baggy on you, but onesies, you know,
bears, dinosaurs, they were one of those things I remember my ex being
into.”
“Was that—”
“This is mine,” he said, “that’s why I said it might be baggy. And I
think—when someone your size wears something like this, it’s—” he bit at
his lip, looking me over. “So hot.”
I grabbed at the tail. “Should I put it on here? Or—”
He nodded. “I’d like to watch you put it on.”
As I stood, he took a seat, passing me the onesie.
 8. WARREN

He stood, so perfectly. His fingers rubbing against the fabric of the onesie.
“Do you want help undressing?” I asked.
He smiled, looking away. He nodded. “You’ve done this before?”
I had, and I didn’t like to think of exes, even if they had been years
ago, I didn’t like to think of those times. Alexi was different, the same kink
but a different flavour.
Still seated, I hooked a finger into the front of the dungarees and
pulled him closer. There were two clasps at either side of the dungarees,
keeping them up.
Pulling the button from the first, the dungarees dropped slightly. I
pressed the back of my hand at the midriff beneath his crop top. I could feel
his heart racing at the touch.
“Do you like this?” I asked as my hand travelled to his nipple. They
were hard to the touch. “You’re so soft and smooth.”
“Thank you,” he said. He gulped. I could see him trying to mask it,
shuffling on his feet. “I like it when you do that.”
I pulled at the button clasp of the other side of his dungarees. It fell
to the side, pulling with it the front and back panel to the outfit. It sat by his
waist for only a moment. The dungarees were probably a medium, and he
was a small. They dropped to his feet moments later.
Up both legs, he wore matching stockings. They were connected by
elastic suspenders. He was basically naked. I looked up to him, from his
torso to the gloss on his lips and the shine to his cheeks. He pulled the
onesie to his crotch, hiding himself.
“Can I see?” I was already madly attracted to him. The fact he was
wearing lacy underwear only got my arousal going. It was easy to conceal
an erection in black jeans. He wasn’t looking away. His eyes were focused
on me, staring intently into mine. His lips pressed together; he was trying
not to speak.
He hummed.
“Move this,” I said, tapping a hand at the onesie, “for daddy.”
Shaved. From what I could see of his body, he was hairless. He was
still dressed in the crop top and the underwear, but he was naked.
His cock filled the lace panties in the front, the tip sticking out at the
waist band. “Do they make you feel sexy?” I asked him.
Alexi opened his mouth, his tongue in turmoil pressed at the roof.
“Yeah.”
“You look sexy,” I said. Reaching out, I traced a hand down from
his chest to the waistband of the panties. I hooked my finger into the lace. It
didn’t feel cheap. His cock was growing. His face blushing. “Maybe you do
want to jump ahead to it.”
“Can I—can I see you—undress?” he asked, softly. His words like
sweet honey on my ears and that only stirred in my cock.
“You want to sit down while I undress for you?” I asked. That
would mean switching positions. “You’re a good boy, so I’ll do it for a
kiss.”
Alexi dipped his head to meet mine. A soft kiss on the lips. His eyes
were closed. I watched him, the heat from his face radiating on mine.
We exchanged places; Alexi sat with the onesie over his forming
erection.
“How do you like daddy?” I asked. “Trousers first? Or t-shirt?
Maybe I could even start with my socks?”
He licked at his lips. He was excited, I could tell. He didn’t need to
answer, he just wanted to watch, and that was absolutely fine. I didn’t mind
him not saying a word. I did enjoy putting on a show.
I started with the t-shirt.
Alexi gasped.
I had a hairy chest, thickest on my pecs, but the hair thinned out
down my abdomen. I placed the t-shirt on top of the onesie. He immediately
pulled it up to face, inhaling.
“I used to have a nipple ring,” I said, running a hand down my chest.
“I want you to touch it.”
He leaned forward. I guided his hand, feeling my hard nipple and
what felt like a small bubble or ball inside it, it was from where my nipple
had healed since the piercing.
“How do I smell?” I asked, my hand at my trouser zipper.
“Like aftershave,” he said, “that’s my favourite.”
I had sprayed myself in enough aftershave cologne to knock out a
small village, but he was huffing it like there was a secret store of poppers
tucked inside.
The jeans were tight. They didn’t drop like his dungarees did. They
required me to actively pull them. His eyes were fixed on me. I wore a pair
of tight grey briefs, and I could feel my cock strained against the side of the
underwear. Once my trousers were off, I was stood in nothing but my
underwear; I looked back to Alexi’s smiling face and tongue prodded
between his lips.
“You like?” I asked, raising my hands.
Like a kid in a candy store, his eyes zipped up and down my body.
His toes curling as he pressed the t-shirt and onesie harder over his cock.
With a thumb in the waistband of my underwear, I noticed a damp
grey patch where precum had seeped through. Perhaps that’s what had got
his excitement roused. I liked to think so. “Are you still hungry?” I asked,
“because daddy has something to feed you.” I wanted him to stuff his face
with my cock all the way to the base of my pubes.
He nodded. “I’m—I’m really hungry now.”
The wet patch was teasing him. He still hadn’t seen my cock,
although mostly outlined with my balls, pushing it to the front of the
underwear. He probably had a pretty good mental picture of it.
“Will you kneel for me?”
I didn’t need to ask again. Alexi continued to press the clothes at his
cock. He was on his knees. His eyes looking up at me. His fingers were
gentle on my thighs, one at either side. He was waiting for me to take off
my underwear. I teased him with it, pulling with my cock inside, pushing it
down. His eyes lighting up at the sight of the shaft. It popped out, bouncing
at my groin.
The foreskin pulled back to reveal the light pink head. It bounced
and throbbed with a life of its own.
He looked at me as if to ask for permission. Of course, he was
actually waiting for permission. “You can try it,” I said, “let me know how
it tastes.”
That was all he needed before his lips were around my cock and all
the shyness I’d seen him exhibit seemed to leave his system. One hand
cupped at my balls and another to guide the cock in his mouth. All while he
looked at me. He was still in his crop top, and I couldn’t see his cock,
although it looked like he was humping the small pile of clothes.
I placed a hand on my head and another on his shoulder, feeling the
rhythm of him against me. Gently pulling him away with the part of his hair
tied up. He licked his lips before wiping them with the back of a hand. “It
tastes good.”
“Come with me.”
 We couldn’t do this in the living room, and not because of the
window looking outside that was only partially obscured from view by slats
in the blinds, but because he was too precious to be fucking on the living
room sofa. He deserved to be in bed, spread out.
“Sit on the bed,” I said.
Alexi followed instruction well. Sitting on the end of the bed. I knelt
before him. Parting his legs, he couldn’t obscure his cock at all now. I ran
my fingers up the length of the stockings.
“I bet you have a really nice outfit to go with this, don’t you?” I
asked.
He hummed, chewing on his bottom lip and nodding. “Do you like
them?”
“It’s feels nice, soft,” I said, my hands slow to climb from his knees
to inside of his thighs. He didn’t have large balls, but they were coming out
of the side of the underwear. “Do you like that?” I knew he liked it. I could
see it on his cock, the way it was obscured by the fabric. He was excited.
I slipped my fingers at either side of the underwear. I pulled them
down over his cock. He moaned as everything he’d been trying to hide was
in sight. His eyes closed as his thighs clenched slightly, closing around my
arm.
“Why do you try and hide yourself?” I asked, parting his legs again
with little force.
“Because—because—” the words in the back of his throat, “I don’t
want to cum yet.”
“Aw.” I ran my finger up the side of his thigh, pulling the underwear
down. “Well, I hope you won’t cum yet.”
He nodded. “I promise.”
 “Good boys cum when they’re told they can cum,” I said, “and
you’re a good boy.”
He nodded. “I’m the best boy.”
His cock in my face, I opened my mouth and with my tongue I
accepted him inside. He let out another smaller moan, watching him. His
eyes were closed. I felt the liquid precum on the tip of my tongue from the
tip of his cock. I lapped it up, taking it further as I pressed my tongue inside
the foreskin.
“Ok,” he let out, touching at my shoulder.
His skin tasted like mint body wash. Removing his cock from my
mouth, I licked him. My tongue guiding up his navel. Alexi squirmed,
giggling. I continued, pushing off my knees. I gently pushed him back onto
the bed.
Guiding my hands beneath his crop top, I tugged it free over his
head. “Let’s take this off.” It revealed his tiny beige nipples.
“Will you be gentle?” he asked.
My cock throbbed, looking at his pouting face and wide eyes. I
leaned over him, pressing my head in the nook between his shoulder and
neck. “I’ll go slow,” I whispered, “I’ll be gentle.” Kissing at his neck, he let
out another light giggle. My hand caressing the soft skin down the side of
his torso.
Up on the bed, Alexi laid with his head on the pillow. The lace
underwear and stockings on the floor. His legs were completely smooth.
“You shave them?” I asked.
Squeezing his legs together as his erection throbbed below his belly
button. “Sometimes,” he said, “do you like them?”
His skin was soft like silk. No wonder he was shy, he was delicate;
he was afraid of damage.
 “Slow,” I said, “I’ll go slow.”
“Do you have—” he paused.
I stepped off the bed to grab a condom. “Anything,” I replied with a
smile, “whatever you want.”
“A teddy.” He broke eye contact. His hand writhed down his torso
to cover his cock.
The only teddy I had was a plush green dinosaur; it went with the
onesie. “I—I have one.”
I don’t think he cared that it wasn’t a teddy bear. Presenting it him
from the wardrobe, he opened his arms with his grabby hands, begging for
it. He cuddled it close to his chest, biting at his lip. My cock was
unrelenting, bouncing with life; left to right, up and down.
On the bed, I lifted his legs. A finger wet with saliva, I pressed it
against his tight shaved hole. His eyes lighting up, his arms clutching at the
teddy harder in his arms. I placed my tongue to it, pushing into his hole. He
really hadn’t been fucked in a while.
“Is that ok?” I asked, resuming to place a finger at his hole. “I don’t
want to hurt you, you’re really tight.”
“I want you—I want you—I want you inside me,” he said, “please.”
I wasn’t a vampire, but receiving a formal invite to enter him was
more than enough to grab the condom wrapper from the bedside table, and
plenty of silicone-based lube. A little pea-sized squirt on a finger to touch
his hole with, and then once more with the condom over my cock.
Alexi had eager eyes, on the verge of wanting to beg.
I hooked an arm around his legs, pushing them up to rest on my
shoulder. Leaning on his legs and raising his ass from the bed. I continued
to look into his eyes, my hand on my cock and another to find the hole. The
tip teased him, spreading the lube, expanding him with just the head. I was
slow, gently entering.
“Is that ok?”
“I want all of you in me.”
“All?”
He nodded.
He didn’t need to ask twice. Leaning deeper on his legs, I pressed on
my hips until the base was at his cheeks. His mouth was wide, his lip
trembling. He wasn’t flexible enough for me to push all the way back and
insert my tongue inside his mouth. I tried.
As I fucked him, I felt the stress drip away with each pulse of his
hole clenching, coaxing out the precum into the condom.
“Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” he let out, his hands clenching the teddy.
“Not yet.”
I pulled out and turned him over. His pale ass sticking up in the air. I
spread his cheeks to see the hole. It was open and glossy with lube. Placing
my finger inside, I felt the warmth of his ring trying to clamp around it. His
body was begging for me.
The tip of my cock in the condom slipped back inside his hole. I
pushed gently on my hips, listening to his moans. Laying out across him, I
placed a hand on his head, turning it to mine.
Kissing him, I continued to fuck, soft and gentle. Pushing my hairy
chest against his back.
“I want to fill you up,” I said in his ear, “do you want daddy to fill
you up?”
He hummed. “Please, daddy. Ple—” he let out a moan, his hole
clenching and throbbing around my cock.
 I came, filling the condom inside him, pressing it deeper and pulling
gently. I continued like his clenched hole was a hand squeezing out yoghurt
from a tube.
Through a soft voice as I laid with the added pressure of my body
on him. “I came,” he said.
I kissed him on the side of the head. “Let me clean up,” I said,
pulling my cock out. It was soft inside the condom.
Alexi turned over. The glossy cum up his chest and damp on the
sheets. “Thank you.” He continued to cling to the teddy.
I felt like a new man. “You want to shower with me? I’ll get us
some towels.” He looked at me, smiling.
He was precious.
 9. ALEXI
MONDAY

I only spent the Friday night at his place. He was in touch with my body. I
didn’t want to leave, but I also didn’t want to outstay my welcome. Plus, he
mentioned how much work he had to do.
We only had sex the once. It was what I needed, taking my mind off
everything, and replaced with the pleasure his body gave.
We texted over the weekend, until last night, when he stopped, and
then he didn’t text me in the morning.
On Sunday morning, he sent one before I woke.
—Morning, baby.
It filled with me a warmth I thought I’d only got from his cock
inside me. My hole clenched with the memory.
I didn’t get that this morning. And it settled in me for a whole host
of reasons why that could be. He didn’t want to continue this any further,
and he wanted to go back to work after using me for sex.
I starred at the phone open on my desk. The text from last night
when he sent a goodnight message, followed by several heart emojis. He’d
asked me to send him a picture of my face. He wanted something nice to
see before going to sleep.
There was no focus on my part. I recalled the night, and how he’d
asked me to come over again, but I knew he was busy, and I didn’t want to
get in the way of what he was doing. Plus, I needed to recharge.
Scrolling through the texts from yesterday evening, I was re-reading
what had happened, and if it was my fault for him not texting me this
morning, or once I arrived at work. I refused to leave my desk in case I saw
him. He hadn’t walked by either. Maybe he was trying to be professional.
 Last night. 8:31 P.M. he texted, ‘You can spend the night, I have to
get up early, but it would be nice to cuddle you again.’
My response to him, ‘You’re too busy for me to distract you.’
Because I knew that’s exactly what I would be, I would be a distraction, and
I didn’t know whether that would be a good thing or a bad thing.
He was ignoring me, and I couldn’t blame him.
The sound in my ear from the headset dinged. A call. Panic in the
back of my throat. My jaw clenched. Looking at the screen. The cursor
hovering over the disconnect.
“Hello?” a voice spoke in my ear.
Click. It was gone.
I couldn’t do this. Not today. It was still technically the morning,
and I couldn’t escape for lunch.
“Alexi,” Kate’s cheerful voice. Not what I wanted to hear right now,
not while the text messages were open and a heat was in my face, tearing
up, I could feel them collect in the corners of my eyes.
Raising my head, she was beside my cubicle. “Ye—yes?”
“Did you just disconnect a call after three seconds?” she asked.
“I—um—I—” I pulled the headset from my head, the warmth
building behind my eyes. “I need to quit.”
“Aw, Alexi. Is everything ok?” her voice, softer, I knew she was
trying to be nice, but the way she looked with sympathy eyes. I didn’t like
it.
I grabbed my phone, moving back with the wheels of the office
chair. “I can’t,” I let out, “I have to—I have to go.”
She was ready to put her arm around me, and I couldn’t handle that
idea. “Alexi, take the rest of the day off.”
 It had been on my mind since my second week. I thought, if I could
do it for maybe half a year, I’d be able to make some savings and find
something else.
I shook my head; I couldn’t be forced to come back. I couldn’t be
forced into any of this. I wasn’t overreacting; I was just realising this wasn’t
a good fit, and Warren ignoring me was the push I needed to leave.
Grabbing my things, I could see in the corner of my eye as Kate and
the others watched. I hated what I was wearing; I hated the itchy shirt, and I
hated sweating through the knit sweaters.
Standing at the locker, I froze. I didn’t like to make grand gestures,
like quitting. When I quit working at the coffee shop in the small town, I
felt so bad for telling them I was quitting. They were nice about it, and I
worked two weeks’ notice so they could find someone else.
I didn’t look back at them. I walked straight to the doors. In the
hallway, I looked down the length of the frosted glass walls. Part of me
wanted to bump into Warren, and part of me wanted to jump into the
elevator and be done.
Ding.
The elevator door opened.
It was a sign. The elevator was empty. It was definitely a sign.
With my bag clung to my chest, I reached inside to grab my phone
case. I needed to see the teddy bear case over my phone again. I felt like I
had to change so much of myself to fit in here. And maybe that’s why
Warren didn’t text me this morning; he didn’t like who I was here either.
As the elevator doors closed, I began tugging at the knit sweater. I
wanted to strip to something I could leave the building in. I wore a light
grey vest top beneath the sweater and shirt, and neither would be easily
stuffed inside the small bag.
 Ding.
Juggling my phone, sweater, and shirt. The elevator doors opened to
the glossy floor of the office building entrance. There was a receptionist at a
desk, and straight ahead were the tall glass entrance walls and door.
At the desk, I saw him standing, chuckling with three other people.
Warren was clearly too preoccupied, just as I suspected.
“Alexi,” he said, noticing me.
I needed to scan my card to say I was leaving the building. He’d
scanned himself in. He looked at me, tugging his suit jacket.
There was nowhere to turn or hide.
“You go ahead,” he said as the three people around him walked
toward me into the open elevator. He approached slowly, his brows
together. “Is everything ok?”
“I quit,” I said.
Standing right in front of me, I watched him, trying to open his arms
to me. I dodged, stepping away.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“You—you used me, and ignored me, and—and—”
“Alexi, I’m right here,” he said, his arms open wide. The smell of
his cologne hitting me with the memory of climbing on his body over the
couch.
“No,” I said, making a beeline to the reception desk. “I’m—no.” I
didn’t need to explain myself.
The reception desk was manned by an older woman flicking through
a glossy magazine. She wasn’t even looking at us. But I was sure she was
listening.
“What happened?” he asked.
“You—you—” I choked back on a breath. “You didn’t text me.”
 He smiled, the corner of his lips dipping into his dimple. I didn’t
know why he was smiling. “Baby,” he said softly, glancing at the woman at
the desk. “Let’s talk over there.” He nodded to the small seating area. “I can
explain.” His hand on my shoulder. “Why were you getting undressed?”
The heat was fading with the cool on my body. “It’s always the
same,” I said, perching on the edge of the seat, ready to make a run for it
with a moment’s notice. That’s what I’d done before, running from a
problem, running from a feeling. I wasn’t even an athlete, but I could run
well.
Warren’s hand on my back was warm. It was nice. I didn’t want it to
be nice, that was in direct conflict with what I was feeling. “Last night, my
charger broke, my phone died while I was asleep,” he said, “it’s charging
now, on my desk.”
In the corner of my eye, I looked at him. I felt stupid. “I—I wouldn’t
be surprised if you ignored me.”
He pressed a finger to my lip. “I would never,” he said, “you’re too
special, and I would never let you think that. I was going to come surprise
you at your desk this morning.”
“I was late,” I said. I was late because of panicking, because I was
nervous about getting to work and seeing him.
“Yeah, I figured.” He let out a warming chuckle, his hand at my
shoulder. I was suddenly conscious about the fact I’d taken my sweater and
shirt off in the elevator. “I asked you to stay over last night.”
“You’re busy.”
“I’m not busy enough to ignore what’s going on between us,” he
said. “I like you, Alexi. You’re the only thing I see, and it makes me smile.”
“Well I quit,” I said.
 “You can’t,” he said, “well, you can, I’m not going to tell you what
to do. I will help you make the best decision, so I will talk with the
supervisor and tell them—I’ll tell them whatever, I—well, I might have an
idea.”
“An idea?”
He pressed his forehead to mine, stroking a hand down my neck.
“Yeah, but first, let me take you to somewhere. It was going to be a
surprise, but you look like you could use it now.”
Clinging to the sweater and shirt between my phone and small bag, I
looked at him and pulled my head away, glancing back at the reception
desk. “Ok.”
“You might want to put that back on, it’s a little cold outside.”
 10. WARREN

I forgot to be cautious, I forgot to assure him and be caring. In my limited

experience, I knew I needed to be there for him, and I knew I needed to
make the effort. He was hurt I hadn’t texted him, and I understood that.
Alexi had been trying to protect himself emotionally, and he’d been doing a
good job at it. Keeping himself held off. I was the reason he let his guard
down. I made him come out for coffee, and I made him listen and talk.
“Where are we going?” he asked as we entered the multistorey car
park. He’d stopped a couple paces behind me.
I held my hand out for him. “So, it wasn’t supposed to happen like
this,” I said. I stepped closer, taking his hand. He held it. My thumb
stroking over the back of his hand. “It’s a surprise, or at least, it was going
to be a surprise tonight when I asked you to come over.”
“Oh.” His hand grew tight as he tried to pull it from my hand.
“But it’s still a surprise, and I want you to see it now,” I said,
keeping his hand in mine. “So, let’s go find my car, and you can see what
I’ve got for you.”
The car was parked on the third floor. It was close to the office
building, which was great, and equally close to the city centre.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked as we stepped into the elevator.
In the reflective panels, I saw his soft face pouting and his eyes
filled with emotion. I wanted to squeeze him and tell him it wouldn’t
happen again. “I’m not mad,” I said, “I’m mad at myself, I should’ve been
better.”
“Don’t you think I overreacted?”
I pulled him tight into my arms, squeezed in my embrace. His head
resting on my shoulder. I stroked his hair, gently. “No,” I said, kissing his
forehead. “I told you I’d text in the morning, and I didn’t.”
I could feel him exhale, like a relief from his shoulders. He sighed.
“Where were you coming from?”
“When? Just then?”
He nodded.
“We were actually out at a printer, and we had an early morning
meeting with the food festival organisers about our booth. We need to make
sure of sizing for banners and the logo, you know.”
“I feel silly for overreacting.”
“No, no,” I said, kissing his forehead once more. “You didn’t. I
should’ve known, you’re not like everyone else. You’re special, and I
should’ve remembered.” I was the one who felt silly. I should’ve left him a
note, I should’ve tried something else. Communication was so important for
him, to have the reassurance, that’s what he relied on. Words.
The elevator dinged as we arrived the third floor of the car park.
Walking, we held hands. I approached my car. It was a beat-up old
Honda Civic. I hadn’t bought a new car, or even thought about it in years. I
personally thought they were a waste of money, they devalued almost
immediately, definitely not an investment when you already live so close to
cheap transport links.
“What is it?” he asked, his hand squeezing at mine with excitement.
Pulling my hand away, I had to key the lock of the boot. Opening it
to reveal three grey postal bags. They’d been delivered to the office this
morning.
“On Friday night,” I began, “when you came over, and you went to
sleep. You were so cute. I couldn’t sleep. Staring at you, in a non-creepy
way.”
 Alexi shuffled on his feet; compliments made him uncomfortable
too.
“So, I ordered you some things, and I was going to invite you over
tonight. They’re not big, but they’re—just open them and see.”
“I love presents,” he said, his hands itching to get them.
“Give me those,” I said, taking the shirt and small bag tucked
beneath his arm. “They’re all yours.”
There was a childlike excitement to the way he tore through the
packaging. I didn’t know why they were packed individually, but they were.
There were two onesies, one in Totoro grey with the ears and tail to
match, the second was a panda onesie, and the third package was a
suctioned pastel purple bear to match his phone case. It looked small in the
suctioned bag, but it was supposed to be half his height when fluffed out.
“I got them for when you came over,” I said. “I didn’t have anything
that fit you last time, and I wanted you to have something for you.”
“I could—” he paused, squeezing the fabric of the onesie to his face.
“I asked you on Saturday night, and last night,” I said.
“You’re so busy, and I—I need to prepare myself for being around
people,” he said.
It was understandable. I didn’t want to push him or the topic of him
coming over. He made his own steps, and I liked that about him. They were
small steps, but courageous ones for him.
“I love it,” he said. “I do.”
“The teddy was because you kept reaching out for something in
bed,” I said, “and I think you enjoyed being spooned too much to turn and
grab me.”
He blushed. It was a strange colour to see under the harsh light in
the car park. I could see his chest raised slightly, pulling the onesie harder
in his arms. He was going to cry.
I immediately pulled him into a hug. “I don’t want you to quit,” I
said. “I’ll see if I can get you some different work. Would you like me to do
that?”
“Please,” he sniffled.
I kissed his forehead, moving my head to nuzzle my nose again his
nose. “You’re too sweet and pure,” I said. “You can’t work with people all
day.”
“I already quit,” he said.
“Unless it’s in writing, you still work for Fizz,” I said, “so, I’ll see
what I can do about moving you around. But that’s only if you want to keep
working there.”
He nodded. “Because then I’d get to see you every day.”
I squeezed him tighter into my arms. “If you accepted my invite to
spend the night with me, you could still see me, every night.”
Alexi pressed the fabric to my cheek. “If this is what you’re
offering, I don’t think I can say no.”
“Good boys don’t say no, do they?” I asked in a whisper against his
ear.
He shook his head.
“Daddy likes good boys.”
“I’m a good boy,” he snapped, quiet and quick. “I am.” His doe
eyes, looking up at me. They were also the same as his, fuck me, daddy
eyes.
“You know,” I said, “let me keep my word, let me take you back to
my flat so you can give me a show in these.”
“But—but you have to work.”
 “I can go back for my meeting in the afternoon,” I said, “but this
can’t wait. I want to see you in that.” I tugged at the grey onesie. “It’s a
small, it should be perfect for you.”
“Thank you.”
Reaching around, I slipped a hand down the back of his trousers.
They didn’t feel lacy, at least not the lace he’d worn the other night. “Oh,
what underwear are you wearing?”
He looked hesitant to say. “Yours.”
“Oh, daddy’s underwear?”
“I took them.”
“And how do they feel?”
Alexi chewed on his lip. “Feels good,” he offered in a hushed voice.
 11. ALEXI
TWO WEEKS LATER
WEDNESDAY

I really liked this guy, but I couldn’t fall into that with him. It was sudden; it
was soon. My last relationship ended a year ago, and Warren was like ten
years older than me—well, eight. I told myself I shouldn’t get involved with
anyone else. I had too much to work through.
Warren had all the answers, even to questions I didn’t ask. He was
just there, assuring me, telling me things, and whispering everything was
going to be ok.
Every night, he invited me to stay over and tell me he wanted me
there, but I didn’t feel comfortable when we would be working the next day,
especially since my new job meant I was working under him—directly.
It meant I could wear my clothes, instead of the stuff I bought that
made my neck itch, and I was sure had brought me out in a rash.
BrattyBoy69: I love the white top on those cream trousers.
I was in the habit of sending him pictures of my clothes each
morning. Benny was great, sending his support from through the forum.
Alexxxi: Thank you! He picked them out for me.
BrattyBoy69: I want a daddy to pick things for me.
Alexxxi: Didn’t you say there were sugar daddies around?
BrattyBoy69: I’m not interested in those. I want to be touched and
maybe someone’s hand in my mouth.
Alexxxi: Mine has great taste, and he’s kind, and he’s definitely not
fisting my mouth.
BrattyBoy69: I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you to move in with
him.
 Alexxxi: What do you mean?
BrattyBoy69: He’s been picking your clothes out; you mention how
good he makes you feel. You sound like you’re really connecting.
Alexxxi: We are!
BrattyBoy69: I’m still shocked you’re not staying with him every
night. You won’t show me any pictures, so I’m using my imagination and he
sounds like someone I’d keep close.
Although I felt a modicum of confidence online in private with
messages, I didn’t share every detail of my life. And I didn’t want to share
anything about Warren. What we had together was ours, and I didn’t have
any friends, except for Benny, and we’d never even met.
Alexxxi: I don’t want to be a burden on him. It’s still now.
BrattyBoy69: Daddies should want to take that on. They should
want to care for you.
He did. In fact, if I’d spent as much time with him at his place as
he’d invited, he probably would have invited me to live with him. He didn’t
even know where I lived, or what my room looked like.
Alexxxi: He does care. He got me a new job because of how
stressed I’d been.
BrattyBoy69: Maybe I’ll get to meet you both. I’m coming through
to Manchester this weekend.
Alexxxi: YES! That’s when the food festival is happening.
BrattyBoy69: I’m actually coming through to meet someone.
Apparently, he has some toys I can play with. You know, toys. *wink emoji*
I knew what Benny meant when he was talking about toys, and he
didn’t mean plush teddies, barbies, or action figures. He was talking about
silicone bases with detachable balls. He’d told me so himself.
Warren’s text notification came through.
 —Want me to pick you up? he asked.
He only knew the building I lived in, and that’s because he booked
me Ubers between my place and his.
—Won’t it be weird arriving together?
—You’re my assistant, and you live on the way, it would be weird if I
didn’t.
—And you could have stayed over last night.
—Sure, pick me up!
BrattyBoy69: I hope you don’t mind me meeting you both. Daddies
find me irresistible. *laughing emoji*
I snorted out my nose like a piglet, grabbing my things and putting
them into my small bag.
Alexxxi: No, no, he’s not like that. He doesn’t like your stuff.
BrattyBoy69: I was kidding, anyway. When does the festival start?
Alexxxi: Friday until Sunday.
I would be there, but only because Warren was going to be there.
They were going to be doing surveys and selling drinks, offering them out
in shot glasses. A weird choice for a soft drink, but I didn’t question it.
Warren met me outside the building in his car. His window down,
his smiling face peering out.
“Come on,” he said, slapping at the passenger seat.
In the car, the smell of cherry air freshener. I tugged at the seatbelt,
slotting it into the latch. “I could’ve walked to the bus stop.”
“I missed you,” he said, his hand on my knee. “I don’t see why you
don’t just stay at mine, and we can drive in together.”
“I don’t want you to get bored with me,” I said, placing my hand
precariously over his. “And I like what we’re doing.”
 “We can make a report with HR to say we’re dating, at least,” he
said, leaning in for a kiss on my forehead. It sent a warm chill down my
body. I couldn’t help smiling when he did it.
“But I don’t want people to—” I panicked, looking out of the car
window to the apartment building.
“I know, I know.” Warren turned his hand on my knee, intertwining
his fingers with mine. “I just want you to be comfortable and happy. And I
know you’re happier.”
I was, but I couldn’t escape the looming dread of the other shoe
waiting to drop. “I like to work with you,” I said, “but I don’t want people
to talk about me—us.”
“Nobody would dare,” he said, “everyone knows I’m a professional,
and I am.” He smirked. “Except that time when you pulled your trousers
down to show me your underwear.”
My hands clenched. “Only because you asked,” I said. “And it
sounds like I have no choice. You’re basically my boss. And—” He looked
at me, waiting for me to say it. “My daddy.”
“Oh, Alexi,” he chuckled. “That’s something a bad boy would say.
And bad boys don’t get colouring pages with their notes.”
“No, no, it was a joke. I wanted to show you,” I said. He liked it
when I wore the lace. “Don’t take my colouring pages.” During meetings in
the boardroom, I sat at the back wall ‘taking notes’, and mostly colouring.
He said I was only allowed one pen, so I chose a pen with four retractable
colours.
“Good boy.” He kissed my forehead. “We should go. I have to drive
the speed limit when I’m driving precious cargo.” He squeezed at my hand.
“That means you.”
I blushed. “We’re gonna be late.”
 “I think we’ve got enough time for Starbucks.”
“No. The drive-thru too far.”
“We’ll be fine,” he said, removing his hand to place on the gearshift.
“And if we’re late, we say we were in a meeting together.”
I didn’t mind that it might’ve been a lie if we were caught, but
Warren’s actions were never questioned, only from Marcus, the owner, but
even then, I’d heard Warren talk him down from making some crazy
decisions in the last two weeks I’d be working as Warren’s shadow.
“Tonight, I want to take you somewhere special,” Warren said.
“Oh? Where?”
“It’s a secret,” he said, smirking. I hated surprises, but I’d gotten
used to them from him. They were always nice surprises. They made me
warm and fuzzy inside. I remembered what I’d told Benny in the forum.
Benny was always talking about sex being the most important part of his
relationship with a daddy. My most important part was having someone
there. I think reassurance was a sexual act.
“You’ll have to tell me where,” I offered back in a softer voice, “you
know, so I can make sure I wear the right clothes.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, “you look perfect the way you are.”
“Thank you.” The same warm chill up my chest and face. “I am
your assistant though,” I continued in my soft voice, “so, if it’s in your
calendar or diary, I should know.”
He didn’t take his eyes off the road. He smiled, his hand
instinctively reaching out for mine. “Well, it’s not there,” he said, “if you
want a clue—” he sucked on his teeth, “I’m not sure I can give you one.”
“What if I stayed over tonight?” I suggested, blurted out.
“Oh, so now you’re bribing me,” he chuckled. “I think you’ll want
to stay over tonight, anyway.”
 “Ok.” I was suspicious, but I wasn’t nervous about it. Warren knew
how to tease, and my anxiety wasn’t triggered at all by it. Perhaps because I
knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. “When we get to Starbucks, I
want one of those strawberry drinks, with the cream. I don’t trust myself not
to spill coffee on my clothes.”
“A Frappuccino?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Anything for you.” He squeezed my knee lightly. “Fun fact,
Starbucks trademarked the word Frappuccino.
 12. WARREN

We weren’t late, but we weren’t on time either. I had a meeting at 9:30

A.M. and we arrived just in time. Alexi with his pink Frappuccino and a
sleeve of paperwork underarm.
I noticed Marcus look me over, carrying in a coffee. I wasn’t his
assistant, but I could see the judgement for not having asked him if he
wanted one.
“Where’s everyone else?” I asked.
“They said they were waiting for you,” he grumbled from the head
of the table. He glanced across at Alexi. He’d taken a seat at the back of the
room.
“I don’t know why,” I grumbled, sucking coffee through the lip of
the lid. “They should have the mock designs for the festival stall. All we
need is your sign off, and we can get them sent off to the printer.”
Something I should have been able to do, easily, but Marcus liked to be the
official name, signing off anything with the company name. It was good.
He was in control of what the company looked like, but it was tedious
coming to him when I knew I had it under control.
Marcus shrugged, placing his feet on the edge of the table. He
nodded at Alexi. “How’s working for him?” he asked.
Alexi’s glance shifted from him to me and back again. “I—I like it.”
“Overwork you?” he asked. “The ladies in customer services
mentioned you got flustered.”
“Nobody—” I said, louder. “Nobody is speaking about him. Alexi
has been a huge help. I feel much more organised, and that’s what makes a
great assistant.”
 “That’s good to hear,” he said. “My assistant is always so busy; she
rarely has time to grab herself a frap—is that a Frappuccino?”
“Alexi is great,” I said, interrupting once more, hoping the
marketing team would arrive soon enough. “Organising my time so well, he
can get us nice drinks before work.” I wondered how long I could keep that
up for, especially since we were both late.
“You’re a catch,” he said, nodding to him. “I might poach you off
him if you’re not careful. Don’t give him too much of a good thing, he’ll
constantly expect it.”
A gentle tap came to the boardroom glass door.
“Ah, there we are,” I said, welcoming the team. “So, Alexi will
make notes, bullet points. We want to keep this brief,” I said, nodding to
him. He opened up the file with the paper and the drawing sheet I’d added.
His eyes lit up. “Let’s talk posters, flyers, and finalise the design we’re
sending to the printer.”
Since Friday, Marcus had been sent several designs via email and
test prints. His common notes were about hating the colour, colours which
his cans were branded with, a yellow and blue logo with a bubble font
saying ‘FIZZ’.
During the meeting, I looked back only a couple times, and each
time we made eye contact and smiled. It was nice to see him smile more
now than he had when we first met. I liked his smiling face; I liked the fact
he wasn’t running to the bathroom upset, or worse, wandering into
handsome strangers who begged to take him for coffee. That was only me.
Marcus snapped his fingers. “Did he write that down?” he asked,
jolting all attention and focus to Alexi.
“Yes,” I snapped back, “no orange on the banner.”
 Alexi looked at me and only me. He nodded. I watched as he jotted
something. For all the colouring he did with the ballpoint pen, he was also
surprisingly good at making random notes from what he heard. He said he
used to do it when he was younger. And that’s all I seemed to know about
him younger.
“So, you want leaflet colour and placement of number three,” I said,
smacking a hand on the table before a piece of paper, “and you want those
on the front banner. You guys have the measurements for that.”
They nodded back to me, furiously making notes.
“And a flag,” Marcus said, standing. He placed his leg on the edge
of the table like he was staking a claim to a piece of land. “I saw the emails;
I didn’t like any of them. Even the one—” he snapped his fingers at the
team. “Nick sent before the meeting.”
“We don’t need a flag if you can’t decide on it,” I said. “Everything
needs to be approved before this afternoon, we’re cutting this so fine. We
need to agree on something to have it printed and sent here on Friday
morning. I would even argue that since the event starts Friday morning,
even this is late.”
Marcus scoffed. “Well, what are you waiting for?” He removed his
leg from the table.
“I’m still behind the idea of having the logo on a Union Jack,” I
said, “we’re a British-based company and we’re made and manufactured
here, plus, it sends a strong message to the community.”
He hummed, like he had the first and second time I suggested it. “It
just feels like it’s been done.”
Looking to the others on my team, none of them wishing to speak
up or pitch ideas. Their nervous energy not comforting to the peaceful way
Alexi was sitting in his own bubble, viciously scribbling with the pen.
 “How about no flag?”
“No, no, we need one,” he said. “Fine, we’ll go with your Union
Jack idea.”
My team sighed a breath of relief. I couldn’t blame them. They
looked exhausted. Trying to find ways to sell the company to the public was
tough when Marcus had his own idea, and nobody could even come close to
creating it.
We were free, finally.
In my office, I locked the door behind Alexi. The walls were frosted
glass. No looking in or looking out. Alexi had walked ahead, placing the
file on my desk.
As he turned, I grabbed him by his cream sweater with the cat
embroidered on his chest. I pushed him against the wall and kissed him.
“You taste like strawberries,” I said, my tongue out, touching his
lips. It was the Frappuccino, but it was delicious no matter what it was.
“You taste like coffee,” he said, sticking his tongue out to copy me.
Our tongues touching.
Pulling myself away from him, I needed to. We had our tests back
negative yesterday, and it was taking everything in me not to fill him up
with my cream on the table. But I was sure to be breaking several rules if I
did that, and I didn’t need to be caught having sex in my office.
“So, tonight,” he said, sitting in the chair opposite my desk. His
hands together, excited, pressing into his lap. “What are we going to do?”
“I told you, it’s a surprise.” I said behind him, my hands on his
shoulders. We would both love it, but I couldn’t tell him what it was until it
happened. It wasn’t exactly a done deal. “Do you like what I picked out for
you?”
 “It’s nice, soft, I like white, but I wished there was some colour,” he
said, peering back to look at me.
Reaching the embroidery of the cat, I patted it. “There’s a little blue
there,” I said. “Tomorrow, there will be some more colour.”
“Thank you.” He stroked the top of my hand. “I coloured the picture
in, it’s a cat with green and blue patchwork fur.”
“A Franken-cat?” I chuckled.
Opening the file on his lap, it was pretty much as expected for a
green and blue cat. “Is that your favourite colour for a cat?”
“No, I already told you.”
And he had. Alexi hadn’t mentioned much from his childhood,
except for making notes and once having a cat. It’s why I chose the
embroidered top and the colouring page. “Right,” I said, “a silver-grey cat.”
He nodded. “You remembered.”
“I’m a good daddy, of course I remembered.” I leaned over, kissing
him on the forehead. He tipped his head back.
A knock came at the glass.
Thankfully, it was locked.
“Right,” I told him, “I best see to it that those designs are uploaded
and sent to the printer.”
He kept a hold of my hand in his hand. “Ok, but I still want to know
where we’re going later.”
I was strong willed; he wasn’t going to break me easily. But we had
eight hours until then, and I knew he was wearing lace beneath all that
cuteness. I could be tempted. I could be broken.
 13. ALEXI

I wanted to know the surprise. I was his assistant. I should have known, at
least, even if the surprise was for me. It wasn’t on any of his calendars or
emails. They were quite boring to look through, and to be honest, I thought
they would have been more interesting to see. But no secrets to be found
there—except for his birthday at the end of July.
“Are you excited?” he asked, catching me tucked into the desk,
looking at his computer. “Trying to find clues?”
He already knew me well. It was either a good thing, or a recipe for
disaster. “Give me more of a hint.”
“I’ve been giving you hints all day,” he said, his voice turning low
as he leaned across.
I grabbed his tie, dangling over the monitor. “What if I pulled it?” I
asked.
“I’d probably fall, break my computer. There would be a loud bang,
and—” he sighed, “that would hurt daddy. You don’t want to hurt me, do
you?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t want to hurt you. I’d never hurt you.”
I let go of his tie. “Would you hurt me?”
He smiled, kissing my forehead. “Never.”
It was almost the end of the day, and my heart continued to race as
thoughts drove themselves wild in my mind, they were going around and
around, wondering what it was that he could have been promising, or telling
me he was about to do. I was excited for it, but the type of excitement that
came with anxiety, or a strong coffee.
“Let’s go now, actually,” he said. “I’m more or less finished for the
day. Everything is being prepared. Taking a day off tomorrow because we’ll
be working the weekend.”
“A day off tomorrow?” I repeated.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Didn’t I mention it?”
It made sense. His calendar for tomorrow was clear, of course, that
meant a day off. I hadn’t forgotten about the food festival, it’s all he’d been
talking about for a week now.
“Well,” he said, “you’ll have the day off tomorrow too, so you can
stay the night.”
That was always a nice idea. I did like spending the night with him,
but I didn’t want to be too much for him, and I didn’t want for him to think
of wanting his own space. I knew I needed my space, and that’s why I
thought he was the same.
Turns out people weren’t usually like me.
“So, where are we going?” I asked. “You have to drive?”
He shook his head. “Nope, it’s a short walk in the city. Another clue,
maybe I’ve told you, but I have a friend from university, he’s in charge of
marketing, and this is something to do with that.”
“Huh?” I froze in the chair, my hands clutching at the padded leather
arms.
“Oh, well, you’ll find out soon enough.” He pulled me from beneath
the desk, from the back of the chair, wheeling me. “So, to show you that I
listen, and I want to know you better, this is a surprise.”
Suddenly everything I had ever told him was coming to the front of
my mind, and I didn’t know what it could have been that he was talking
about. I’d rarely spoke the first couple times we met, but since then, I felt
like I’d come out of my shell. I was happy inside my shell, and now he was
picking me out like one of those French snails with the garlic butter.
 On the short walk, which felt like an hour since my anxiety
wouldn’t allow my racing brain a single break for the entire walk. And, of
course, trying to listen to Warren too. It was a juggling act, and I had never
been fond of the circus, so it was all too much.
We stood outside a painted neon pink wall. The sign above the door.
‘Pink Paws’ in yellow bubble lettering.
I stood in shock and awe, looking at the white painted cat pawprint
climbing the glass. And inside, the same yellow and pink colour scheme
travelled. There were tables, there were a few people, and of course, there
were cats.
“Oh.” I let out in a gasp. “Cats!”
“It’s a cat café,” he said, “soft open, not available to the public yet,
so we’re getting a view before everyone else.”
“Cats!” I squealed, jumping at him. He wrapped his arms around
me, squeezing me. I listened to the gentle inhale from his nose, seeming to
suck me in. “I love cats.”
“And kittens,” he said against my ear. “It’s basically open to us and
a couple other people. Let’s go in.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I grew up with a cat. I’d told him as
much, only briefly. And I’d shown him pictures too. I clutched at the
embroidery on my sweater. It was a cat. He was right; the clues were there;
he’d been trying to tell me all day.
Inside, there was a heavenly smell. I couldn’t place it, but I inhaled
it, deep inside my chest as it hit my face.
Along the side of the wall there was a small pen and inside, I could
see kittens. They weren’t the tiny newborn kittens, but they were playing,
all different colours, each with a different personality.
 Warren was already occupied greeting a man near the back of the
room.
A woman in a pink t-shirt with the logo approached me. “You want
to go inside?” she asked.
“Yes—oh my god, yes.” I couldn’t chew her hand off fast enough at
the opportunity.
“We’re a new place, all the cats and kittens here are ones that
haven’t been adopted out yet,” she said, “we also offer people to come in
and donate, as well as purchasing coffees and other treats, of which
supports the cats.”
“They’re all so small,” I let out, not quite listening to her. I noted
others sitting around tables on the other side. Larger cats walked around on
the tables, the counters, and basically anything a cat could climb.
“If you just sit there,” she pointed to the ledge with the back to the
window, “they will come to you. The cats do get free rein of the place, but
the kittens stay in here, for their own safety.”
There were around ten or twelve kittens, each of them so adorable
and cute. Except with the one with the brown line down its back. That
kitten had an attitude, clawing at another. A smaller silver and white kitten.
“Hello,” I said quietly once the woman left. I reached out, scooping
the silver-white kitten into my hands. “Oh, aren’t you a cutie.” I stroked a
hand down its back, looking at the other kitten. It glared at me. “I think that
one is a bully.”
“Didn’t take long,” Warren chuckled. I hadn’t realised he was so
close. “So, do you think it’s a good surprise?”
“It’s what my happy place feels like,” I whispered. “I wish the
colours were a bit nicer, but it’s a nice place.”
 “They really took the pop from pop art,” he said. He dipped to his
knees, holding on the edge of the pen. “So, I was actually thinking, and I
just spoke to my friend over there.” He nodded to him.
“Oh, maybe I could work here.” Is let out a gasp. “You know, I think
I would like it, and then—”
“No, no, I mean, sure,” he said, “but, I was actually talking to him
because he set aside some things for me, and I wanted to know if you’d like
to adopt one of these kittens.”
“What?” I yelped, startling the poor kitten in my hands.
Warren’s warming hand on the side of my cheek. “I mean, these
kittens are looking to be adopted, and you love kittens and cats. And a
kitten would be easier to bond with.”
“You mean it?”
“Absolutely. But—”
I looked away. I hated the other shoe dropping. I couldn’t even look
at the cute kitten curled up in my hands.
Warren’s hand at my chin, stroking it in his direction. “Look at me.”
“Yeah?”
“But it will have to stay at mine,” he said, “so, you’ll have to come
and visit.”
“Is this your way to get me to spend the night?” I asked, trying not
to laugh. It was working.
He smirked. “You told me you can’t have pets in your room,
anyway.”
That was true, and I had mentioned it to him. “So, pick any kitten, I
already have my friend drawing up the papers, and a nice donation to the
place.”
 The one in my hands, that’s the one I wanted. I nodded to it. “This
one.”
 14. WARREN
FRIDAY

Alexi chose the silver-white one in a heartbeat. It was a male, and he named
him Sugar. He didn’t say if there was anything significance, but Sugar it
was. He liked it, and I liked it as well.
He didn’t need much more convincing to stay the night than with
having the kitten. My friend Grant had everything we needed for a kitten.
It’s part of the package they sold. He had a crate with a lid and a cage
attachment for transport and to use a bed. He had also given me a complete
list of things I would need as well, like food and drink.
Alexi and I hadn’t been seeing each other long, and already it was
like there was a child in the relationship, except there was no crying, and
Alexi was so occupied with every moment of the kitten’s life.
All day, he’d laid on the floor, sleeping beside him as Sugar slept,
and then he tried to convince me that Sugar should sleep between him and
his daddy. Of course, I shut that down swiftly. And last night, Alexi slept
over again. On a work night, I was surprised, but a happy surprise.
My surprise to not find him in bed when my alarm went off,
however, that wasn’t a happy one. Jumping out of the bed, worried he’d left
in the middle of the night, I was naked, running into the living room.
Alexi sat on the sofa, dressed in his grey Totoro onesie, sunk into
leather. It was 7 A.M. and he had Sugar on his knee and a wide smile on his
face. They both appeared to be watching cartoons, the bright colours
flashing across their faces in the darkness.
“You’re up,” he said in a soft voice, turning to me. He had the hood
of his onesie up, the ears on either side sticking out.
“How long have you been away?” I asked in a stretch.
 He gasped. “Sugar, close your eyes, he’s naked.”
I chuckled. “We should get ready for work. So, put Sugar down to
sleep, and I’ll see you in the bathroom.” I’d really thought he’d up and left.
It wouldn’t have phased me, but it was the initial thought. I wondered if
he’d slept at all. I know I felt him fall to sleep in my arms after I shot my
load in him.
In the fluorescent white of the bathroom, splashed against the deep
emerald blue and green, I looked at myself in the mirror. I usually woke
with a raging erection. This morning’s wood seemed to have fallen flaccid
before I could even entertain it with a clenched hand.
“I woke up because I wanted to see what he was doing,” Alexi said,
following me into the bathroom.
“That’s ok,” I said, combing a hand through his hair and pushing
back the hood of the onesie. “I was worried you’d gone home in the middle
of the night. You never wake up before me.”
He shrugged. “That’s because you always wear me out.”
“You’re adorable,” I said, kissing his forehead.
“And also, I woke up because I still had daddy’s seed in me,” he
said, chewing on his bottom lip a little.
Suddenly my morning wood hadn’t vanished at all, a gentle tug
swinging it like a pendulum, growing thicker. “Now you’ve got me all
excited.”
Alexi was on his knees in seconds. “I’ve been good.”
“Consider this breakfast,” I said, my hand on the back of his head as
he pushed his tongue out, accepting my cock into his mouth like it was a
landing strip. “Yeah, take it to the base.”
Eager to place, I felt the warmth of his mouth take my cock whole.
Expanding and exploring his mouth, each time worked by his tongue. He
looked up at me from his knees.
“You like that?”
He hummed, the vibration on the tip of my cock.
Pulling away, I turned the shower on. He wiped at his lips, smiling,
still on his knees. Alexi was obedient, but also sweet. My cock twitched to
the side, looking at him, waiting for me to come back and shove my cock
down his throat.
“Let’s get you undressed,” I said.
He stood. Arms open. He waited for me to undress him. To unzip
the onesie from his neck to his naval. He was hiding an erection.
Completely naked inside the onesie. Looked like he’d slipped inside it to
get out of bed and play with the kitten.
I gave his ass a light spank. It jiggled. “Get in,” I said, “I want to
make sure every inch of you is washed clean.”
Since our tests came back negative, I’d been able to make my
deposits directly. I think he preferred it this way.
Alexi didn’t immediately go under the water of the shower inside
the bathtub. He waited for me. He was precious like that. The water
shouldn’t be too cold or too hot, and if it was, then it would hurt him. And I
promised I’d never do that.
I took the brunt of the water first. Letting it spit hot water from my
head and wet my chest hair.
“You want to rub the shampoo into daddy’s chest?”
Alexi grabbed the bottle of shampoo. He squirted out a healthy
handful and then splashed it against my chest. He snickered, rubbing it in as
it created foamy suds.
I pulled him into my arms, getting the shampoo all over him. My
erection pressed between our abdomens. The water was warm. I pushed his
hair back, wetting it. “Is that nice?”
He hummed. “I like it.”
“Turn around, let me get you clean.” He turned, the water slicked
his skin down his back and ass. “Maybe we need to get you dirty first.” My
fingers immediately sliding between his cheeks.
“Does it involve daddy’s cream?”
I pressed my chest against his back, my chin on his shoulder. “Want
to be daddy’s little cream puff?”
“Please.”
My cock knew where it wanted to be, already positioned to part his
cheeks and take over where my hand had been. With my hand, I felt him
opening. I teased with a finger.
This wasn’t the first time we’d fucked in the shower. I was prepared.
On the shower caddy at the side of the wall, a small bottle of lube. I only
needed a little to work my way in.
Alexi pressed against the tile with his back arched. His light moan
was amplified.
I was slow. I was always slow to start. I eased the tip inside.
“Harder,” he whispered.
My cock went all the way inside, my hips thumping at his cheeks.
Alexi moaned.
With my hands at his waist, I continued to fuck him, pulling him as
my body pushed him against the tile. I moved a hand to his cock. It was
solid, rubbing up against the slick tile. “You like that?” I asked.
“I’m a good boy,” he said, “let me have it.”
Pumping my hips, I fucked faster, I fucked slower; each time
evoking a different length of moan echoing out in the bathroom.
“Want daddy’s load?”
 “Yes, daddy. Please, daddy!”
Alexi’s hole clenched around my cock. He let out a throaty moan.
I knew the feeling. He was cumming.
I came inside him seconds later. My cock stayed inside him until I
was sure he had every last drip.
“You’re a good cream puff,” I said, kissing at the side of his neck.
“It’s all yours, baby.”
He leaned back on me. “Thank you.”
 15. ALEXI

Warren completed me. He filled me up in more ways than I knew. He was

physically filling me and mentally filling me too.
I didn’t mind that we would be working outside while everyone else
was going to be coming to the stall and asking for the samples. I didn’t
mind because I knew Warren was going to be there, and I knew Warren
wouldn’t let me breakdown like I broke down before.
BrattyBoy69: You should bring the kitten! I can’t wait to meet you!
Alexxxi: I don’t think I can. The kitten probably needs another
injection, but you should come and meet him. He’s so sweet.
BrattyBoy69: That’s why he’s called Sugar!
Alexxxi: I can’t wait for you to meet the guy I’ve been seeing. And
don’t even think about trying to steal him.
BrattyBoy69: Daddies like him don’t go for boys like me.
I knew that much was true. Benny was someone who liked to be
strapped up with the harnesses, and I’d seen the pictures. Warren liked the
lace much better; he liked the softness, and I was delicate.
In the middle of the city centre as stalls had been set up with their
stands and their flags, and their tables filled with leaflets and small tasters.
A lot of the restaurants had come out, and there were food trucks too. It was
a nice day, at the end of April, surprising it hadn’t rained.
“Marketing got here early to set everything up, and operations got
the cans in the back. All we have to do is pour them out, take the surveys,
and they get the little shot glasses,” Warren said, explaining as we walked
into the small stand.
“Isn’t it weird though,” I mumbled, standing behind him as Nick,
from the marketing team, stood ahead at the stall window, cracking the can
lids.
“What’s weird?” he asked.
“The shot glasses,” I said, trying not to speak too loudly. I didn’t
like being overheard, and I always felt people listening in on what I was
saying. “Because you don’t sell alcohol.”
He placed his hand on my shoulder. He never did that around people
he worked with. Watching his lips move as he spoke. I wanted a kiss, but I
knew that wasn’t going to happen. “Of all the ideas, that’s the one Marcus
liked the most,” he said, “plus, it has the logo on. It doesn’t make business
sense, maybe if we were making vodka or tequila, but he’s not.” He
smirked.
Warren was intelligent. He always knew what he was talking about,
and he always had an answer. He didn’t speak down to me. He explained
what he was saying to me like I was another adult, and I appreciated that.
Even if I did just want to colour and play with the kitten.
“Ok, and what do you want me to do now?” I asked, looking at the
cases of cans behind me.
“You can take a couple of the flavours and pour some out,” Nick
said from ahead, turning to me. He’d been listening to what I’d been saying.
The creeping nervousness in the back of my throat sent a shiver down my
back.
“Do you want to do that?” Warren said, pulling focus back to him.
“I have to speak to Nick.”
I nodded to him. “Yeah.” As long as I wasn’t being made to talk to
strangers, asking them about what they thought of the drinks or filling in the
questionnaires.
It was still early and not many people came to the stand. It was a
good idea, but maybe not for the first thing in the morning when everyone
was occupied with going to the different stands that were serving and
selling the different breakfast foods.
We’re not selling, I reminded myself. We’re just handing out
samples. If they want to place orders, they can place them online. I
continued to go through that in my mind as people came by and I offered
them the shot glass with the drink. They could only have one, but I didn’t
like to say no.
Warren and Nick were outside. They were the ones asking the
questions and handing out the flyers. I preferred to be inside. I liked the
feeling of being inside the stand and the colours were nice inside. Natural
light was a friend, much better than the weird office lighting.
“Alexi?” a voice snapped. I was in a world of my own.
Jumping, I jolted at the sound of my name being called like that. I
turned to see where the sound appeared from. Behind me?
“Alexi?” it came again, softer from ahead.
“Huh?” I could barely string a thought together. “Hi.”
In front of the stand, he was tall, dressed in a pair of ripped black
jeans, a white hoodie with a black harness at the chest and shoulders. I
made eye contact with him. His short hair and deep brown eyes, he
chuckled.
“It’s me,” he said, “Benny.”
Of course, I’d seen the face, I’d seen the outfit. I’d been expecting
to see him, but I hadn’t thought he would’ve been this tall or attractive in
person.
“Hi,” I said, the heat in my face and neck dropping at the chill up
my back. “I thought you’d message me first.”
“I did,” he chuckled, grabbing at his phone from his pocket. He had
a nose piercing too. I wanted one, but at the same time, they only looked
good on certain people, and I was scared of needles. “You look busy. Oh,
what flavours do you have?” he looked down at the table filled.
“Cola. Cherry. Apple. Mixed fruit. Lemonade.” I gestured with a
hand over the different flavours. “I thought we’d meet for coffee or
something, I feel—”
“Oh shit,” he grumbled, “I’m sorry. I should’ve waited for you to
message back. You know, this guy cancelled, so I figured I’d surprise you.”
Surprised. I was surprised. Turning slightly. I wanted someone to
take over, or to have Warren comfort me. I felt lost and disoriented from
what was happening. Of course, I had told him to visit, but I thought it
wouldn’t have been this big of a shock.
I’d told Benny things I’d never told anyone else. He was just a name
on the internet.
“How are you, anyway?” he asked, grabbing at one of the glasses.
“Oo, can I keep this?” He tapped a finger at the shot glass.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m—”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Warren’s deep voice snapped
behind me.
The hairs on my neck stood and my throat grew tight. It summoned
a feeling of fear, a dread knotting in my stomach, pulling me.
“Warren?” Benny laughed.
“What are you doing?” Warren asked, his hand on my shoulder.
“Stirring up shit?”
Benny chuckled. “I didn’t know you were keen on sweet boys.”
“I—I—” I turned, shrugging Warren’s hand off my shoulder. It was
like a night terror coming to life, the anger in them both, the way their
voices turned somewhat demonic in my ears. I wanted to crawl into a ball, I
wanted to hide, I didn’t want them to get me and take me away again.
 “Alexi,” a soft voice in my ear. “Are you ok?”
“I didn’t know you were together,” Benny’s sharp voice, cutting
through. “But I’m happy for you, Alexi deserves someone good, and—”
“Shut up!” Warren called back.
At the back of the stall, my head hanging low. I sucked in a deep
breath, and on the exhale I threw up.
I felt Warren’s warm body and hand at my skin, stroking my back.
“Everything ok, baby?” he asked, his voice soft again. “Let me take you
home.” His hand through my hair, I couldn’t say anything, and through my
watery eyes, all I could see was the sick on the stone.
 16. WARREN

It was typical for someone I thought had left my life for good to show up
when things were getting better, interesting, and settled. At least, that’s what
I’d thought.
To see Benny again. I didn’t have feelings for him. He was the one
who had left me. In the dark, in the lurch, after—too much went on. I
thought we’d have spoken about it, but he left my life many years ago.
The wound was there. But he meant nothing to me now, other than a
scab, and I didn’t need him near that. Open scabs can lead to infections.
Nick took over with help from Gareth, called in early to take over
while I took Alexi back to the flat.
Alexi hadn’t said a word for over ten minutes, sitting on the floor,
his back at bottom of the sofa. He had Sugar on his knee and a small glass
of water clutched near his chin.
“You feeling better?” I asked, watching him from behind the sofa.
He glanced at me, his lips pressed together, trembling.
“What happened?” I’d asked him on the drive back. He’d had cereal
this morning, he’d been happy and excited, mostly to see Sugar at lunch,
but he didn’t look sick at all before we set off. “Do you want me to make
you something to eat? Is it your belly?” I sat on the arm of the sofa,
reaching out to stroke a hand through his hair.
“I—I—”
I didn’t pressure him into speaking. I continued to stroke at his
shoulder, massaging it slightly for him. “Everything is ok,” I said. “I can
make you something light, we can lay on the sofa, I can put some Studio
Ghibli in.”
 He looked back at me, smiling. It sounded like a nice plan,
especially for a sick boy. “I don’t like shouting,” he said, softly, his eyes
welling, filled at the waterline like he was about to burst at any moment.
“It’s—”
“It’s ok,” I said. “I won’t ever shout in front of you, or at you. I
promised. I’ll never hurt you.” Leaning across, I laid on the sofa. Patting at
the sinking sofa cushion. “The thing between me and him ended years ago.
I don’t want his drama to come between us.”
Alexi stood, cuddling the kitten. “Ok,” he said. He laid beside me. “I
only told you little bits.”
“Whatever you want to tell me, let me know,” I said, pulling him
into my embrace as he laid on the sofa. Hugging his back at my chest.
At his chest, I could see Sugar stretching out, his small claws in the
fabric of his sweater. It didn’t even phase Alexi.
“When I was eleven, I had to move away from my mum,” he said. I
could hear the gulping in his throat, and the light sniffle in the end of his
nose. “So, I lived with my grandma. She died when I was—when I was
sixteen.”
“Aw, baby.” I held him firmer at the waist. “I’m here for you.”
“When she died, I—I went back to live with my mum,” he let out,
rushing to speak. “So, I stayed with her for a year and—a year and a half.”
“That’s ok, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel ready.” He
needed to know I wasn’t forcing him to speak about this. I kissed at the
back of his neck.
“She kicked me out because her boyfriend—her boyfriend didn’t
like me,” he let out through a choked breath. “I was always—I was always
—everyone was always arguing.”
 I cooed in his ear lightly, kissing at his neck and letting him soak
back into me. He was so precious; I didn’t want what happened today to get
him down. He didn’t need that in his life or head. “It’s ok.”
“When people shout—when—” he continued, his shallow breath in
the back of his throat. “It makes me feel sick, a panic attack.”
“You can stay here for the rest of the day,” I said, “keep Sugar
company, watch all the TV, play all the games. The outside world is too
ugly to have you in it.”
“No, no,” he said, “I need to go back, I can’t be controlled by this.”
I could feel his heart racing through my touch on his skin. His skin
running hot and then cold. He was precious, and he needed saving. It was
fate we ran into each other because I had all he could need. I was here to
save him.
“If you want to, we can, but—” I paused myself, Alexi was strong
for what he’d gone through, I couldn’t control him. “I’ll be there with you,
every step, if you want me to be. No more shouting at people, no more
letting someone get the better of me.”
Shuffling around to face me, the kitten now on my shoulder. Face to
face, he kissed gently. “You’re the best daddy I could ever ask for,” he said.
“Benny, I only know him online. I never thought—I never thought—he’s
really not your type.”
“You’re right,” I said, “he’s not my type. He gave me a lot of the
things I was looking for. I wanted someone to be a little softer, someone to
be craving that caring hand.”
“What about your family?” he asked, his hand on my face, stroking
it down the unshaved hair. He liked the stubble but not too beardy.
“I’m the eldest, I have a younger sister, she’s in London,” he said,
“my family is small, my parents live in Kent now. We don’t see much of
each other. They’re not supportive of me being gay, but that’s ok, because
I’m strong.” I’d already come to terms with it, it’s what made me strong, the
lack of my parents’ support is what made me want to be caring and
supportive.
“You’re too nice for anyone to not like you,” he said, snuggling his
head beneath my chin.
I couldn’t well up or cry in front of him, but as his head went
beneath my chin, I could feel the heat in my eyes. It had built, waiting for
me to sniffle and breakdown. But I was stronger than that. I had to be for
Alexi.
“I think we should eat lunch, then see how you feel,” I said. “Maybe
we should open the blinds too.” It was fairly dim and dark in the flat.
“It’s a nice day outside,” he said. “When can we take Sugar for
walks?”
“Once he’s bigger,” I said, “he will need a cat collar and a lead, but
once we’ve got those and he’s older and bigger, we can take him outside.”
“Is he an indoor cat or an outdoor cat?”
“That depends on if we keep him inside or not,” I said, raising a
hand up his body. I stroked it down his cheek. “I’m guessing he’ll be an
indoor cat that we take for walks.”
His hair brushed at my chin as he nodded. “Ok. I’d be sad if I lost
him.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you never lose him,” I said. “And I’ll
make sure you never lose me.”
 17. ALEXI
SATURDAY

We didn’t see Benny again yesterday; I hadn’t even responded to the

messages he’d sent. Perhaps if I’d shown him a picture of Warren, he might
have said he knew him, but then he might have also been negative.
I ran the scenario over and over through my mind. Even the one idea
that Warren and Benny were together and maybe would get back together.
All day, Warren asked what was on my mind. I felt emotionally purged to
him, I’d told him about my family, and where I had this urge to never
depend on anyone but myself, and then at the same time, I was leaning into
him, cuddling him, letting him whisper ideas about the future in my ear.
“One day, I’m sure you’ll fill a house with fur babies, I would be the
daddy, of course, but they’d be yours,” his words were soothing in the back
of my mind, over on repeat as I smiled out to the world.
We were in the stand at the food festival again. I was once more
pouring drinks out while Warren and Nick, or Gareth, maybe Jane. One of
them handed out the flyers and asked for feedback.
My mind felt clear. Handing out shot glasses of non-alcoholic
drinks, not even caring. My only thought was waiting for Sugar to get
bigger so we could take him for walks. I also still had the cat café on my
mind. That was where I wanted to be. It sounded fun to be surrounded by
all those cats and kittens.
“Hi,” a voice spoke.
In a world of my own, not paying attention. “One per person,” I said
on automation.
“Alexi.” The voice was behind a hooded person. The height gave
them away. It was Benny. The one scenario my mind hadn’t touched was
him coming to haunt me.
“What are you doing?”
“I just wanted to talk, I feel awful about yesterday,” he said. His
hood up, probably so Warren didn’t see. “I’m not here to cause drama.”
“It was a lot,” I said, “I—I—I hate people shouting.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For what it’s worth, Warren’s nice.”
A cough interrupted us. Warren appearing at Benny’s side, his arms
crossed, his chest pushed out like he was Superman, or at least, he was my
Superman. “Didn’t you cause enough trouble yesterday?”
“Me and Alexi are friends?” he said.
Warren shook his head. “Alexi?”
I looked from Warren to Benny. “We were friends,” I said. “I’m not
sure—I’m not—not sure, if I want to be anymore.”
“Listen,” Benny said. His softer voice was much more pleasant.
“We should talk, we should clear the air. I’m not here for drama. I didn’t
even know about Warren. But from the way Alexi spoke about you. You’re
happy, and that’s all you’ve ever told me you wanted.” He sighed, looking
at Warren. “And you’ve always wanted someone who fits you. Alexi does
that.”
Warren looked at me, looking for my answer. “Ok,” I said, “but I
want to go to the cat café.”
“I don’t think it’s fully open yet, baby,” he said, his hand at his side.
I could see him wanting to touch me. I felt it. Inside, his want to touch me
was a nice feeling. “But I’ll see.”
“We’ve spoken for months online,” Benny said. “I’m glad we get to
meet, but I’m not sure if this is how it was going to happen.”
It was true. I’d spoken to Benny every single day. It was the
shouting, the anger in his voice that caught me. I’d spent my life-giving
people chance after chance, especially my own mum, telling me from a
young age about how I needed to be quiet, to hide under the bed, to colour,
to play with the cat. All of that, all so she could do whatever it was she was
doing.
“How’s the kitten?” Benny asked, as Warren walked off with a
phone to his ear.
“He’s good, he’s always sleeping on my knee and then he like
chases after my feet.” I found myself smiling, thinking about Sugar’s little
beans on the bottom of his paws.
“Warren wanted a cat when we were together.”
My head shook. “Don’t—please, don’t mention you two—two—
together.”
“Ok,” he said, removing his hood. “I didn’t mean to shout yesterday.
I guess, when I was stood up, it hurt and then I saw you two together. I
thought I’d never see him again to be honest.”
I sucked in through my nose, trying to stay calm about this. Perhaps
why being in the cat café would be good. I wouldn’t feel like I was going
crazy because there would be these little fluff bundles everywhere.
“Great,” Warren said with a chuckle as he came back. “They’re
open for selected guests, but my friend there has said we can stop by now.”
He glanced to Benny. “You have about twenty minutes, then we’ve got to
stop by the flat.”
My eyes lit up at the thought of going back to see Sugar. “Who’s
going to—” I looked around, seeing both Gareth and Jane appearing beside
Nick handing out letters.
Warren met me by the small slip curtain exit. “You want one of
those strawberry milkshakes again?” he asked.
 They were delicious. I nodded, feeling at his hand take hold of mine.
It was warm and soft. “Please.”
I was quickly reminded of Benny as he appeared at my side. “I
always love visiting Manchester,” he said. “Do you like it here?”
“Yeah, it’s nicer than where I grew up, small town filled with—” my
tongue caught on my teeth. Warren squeezed at my hand. “I’m ok.”
We walked in mostly quiet, Benny asking questions and Warren not
responding, each time his hand growing a little more comfortably firm
around my hand.
Pink Paws was quiet, mostly, except for one table. The woman who
spoke to me last time approached with a large smile.
“Thanks again,” Warren said as we took seats at a table.
“It’s no bother, we had a booking system for the soft open, and
someone cancelled,” she said. “I’m Marcella, the owner. My brother, Grant
does the marketing.”
“Yeah, we went to university together,” Warren said. “Is he
around?”
At my side, I grabbed Warren’s hand. He was looking for a reason to
leave. I knew it.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said to me, as if he was listening to
my thoughts.
“So, what can I get you?” she asked. “The kitten pen is free, but
make sure the door is locked.”
My eyes, I could feel them growing. I wanted to go into the pen.
Warren’s hand tugged at mine. “You can have a strawberry milkshake in
there,” he said. He knew I was trying to leave now. “He’ll have a strawberry
milkshake. I’ll take a coffee, strong.”
She looked at Benny. “I’ll just have a—chocolate milkshake?”
 “Sure,” she said, “I’ll be right back.”
Warren eyed Benny, his hand on mine, squeezing at it slightly.
“I apologise,” Benny said, “I don’t want to bring old things to the
surface, but I apologise for leaving you like that, and I think it worked out
for the best.”
“I came to peace with that a while ago,” he said. I knew it was a lie.
People at peace didn’t shout like that, but it wasn’t my place to say
anything. He was just trying to protect himself as well as he protected me.
“I didn’t want you coming between us. This is all new between us. The last
thing I want is for you to come between.”
“That’s not what I’m here for,” he said, “I really was the worst, and
I’m happy you’re both happy.”
I stayed quiet; it was already uncomfortable in the air between the
two of them. They didn’t need the added discomfort of what I was feeling
to break that. I didn’t want to either. I felt strange to say anything. I wasn’t
the one with a history. I only knew Benny through the forum, and even
then, I barely really knew him. He was always so outright and sexual there,
but here, he looked resigned and sad.
“I’ve been trying to find someone who completes me the way I
know you two do,” he said.
The couple at the table near us were too busy making eyes at each
other, sucking down their one milkshake with shared straws as a cat
climbed the table between them. That could’ve been me and Warren. But
instead, there were no cats around us, almost like they could feel history at
the table.
“I won’t stop him being friends with you,” Warren said. He lifted
my hand to the table, stroking at the back of my hand with his thumb. “But
I don’t think we’ll be friends. You took things too far, at first, it was cute,
missing money, missing things, but those were replaceable,” he said.
Tuning in, he hadn’t actually told me what happened. “But what I won’t get
back is my friend who you slept with, or the time I wasted on you.”
Resigned back to the silence of my mind, looking for anything
visual to take my mind off everything.
“Ok,” Benny said. “I did that, and I’m sorry, but I’m a different
person now.”
“If it’s ok with Alexi, once we’ve finished our drinks, we’re going
to leave, and I don’t want to see you again,” he said calmly. His voice
controlled. “Stay friends, but don’t visit, don’t do anything that will poison
his mind. Ok?”
Benny nodded. “I understand.”
“Can I play with the kittens now?” I asked, breaking the tense breath
I’d been holding back in my throat.
Warren placed his hand behind my neck, pulling my head closer. He
missed my forehead. “For five minutes.”
 18. WARREN
SUNDAY

For the first morning since we adopted the kitten, I woke before Alexi. We
stayed up all night, and we didn’t go to bed until he wanted to. It was a
reward for having to go through the tense Benny situation. I knew he felt it.
He wouldn’t let go of my hand—or I wouldn’t let go of his hand.
I enjoyed him staying over, and all it took was a small kitten. I’d
always wanted a cat. They were independent and curious, and I loved that.
I prepared him breakfast in bed. It was his favourite cereal in a retro
plastic bowl with a matching plastic spoon. He said they made him excited
when he saw them. They were something I’d bought for him online. I
wanted to give him everything he wanted, and even things he didn’t know
he wanted until they were sitting in his lap.
They were served on a tray. A tray I’d been waiting to use with him.
And today was the first time he’d slept over and slept in.
“Wakey, wakey,” I said from the side of the bed. I wore nothing but
a nightgown, held loosely by a belt around my waist. It was slowly coming
undone. And if he woke any later, he’d have my cock in the bowl of cereal.
Probably not something he would object to.
Dressed in his grey Totoro onesie, Alexi stretched out. He rubbed at
his eyes with the back of his hand. Glancing at me, standing over him, he
let out a groan. “What time is it?” his soft voice trembled.
“It’s eight,” I told him.
“Oh no,” he whined. “You woke up first.”
“Of course, I did,” I chuckled back, “and I made you breakfast in
bed. Because you’re my boy and you deserve everything in this world.”
He continued to writhe and push at his onesie.
 “It’s your favourite,” I said. “Cheerios. Those are the ones you love,
right?” He nodded, letting out another stretch. “Big stetch.”
Sitting upright in the bed, I placed the tray over his lap. “We’re
going to be late,” he mumbled, “and I haven’t even watched TV with Sugar
yet.”
Tucking my nightgown together, I squatted at the side of the bed to
look up at his face. “We’re not working today,” I said. “We were never
working Sunday.”
“Oh, you—you never—”
“Because I wanted it to be a surprise,” I said. Raising a hand to his
face, I stroked my hand down over it. “So, eat your cereal, because we have
a big day.”
“Oh?” I felt his jaw clench against the back of my hand.
“I was thinking, we’ll take a short tour of the living room, a tour de
television and game, then there’s a beautiful afternoon of getting wet in the
tub, followed by an evening of strawberries and chocolate.” I hadn’t
planned completely what we would be doing on this day off, but after what
happened yesterday, I couldn’t help think that Alexi needed a nice day of
peace, to do whatever he wanted.
“You know,” Alexi said, picking up the plastic spoon, “I need to go
back to my flat, make sure that Amelia and Tim don’t think I’ve moved out
or something.” He offered a wry smile.
“And—that’s something else I wanted to ask,” I said, removing my
hand from his face. “You should move in with me.”
He dropped the spoon. Glaring into my eyes, the look on his face as
they glazed over. “Move—move—move in?”
I nodded. “Yeah, move in with me.”
 He grabbed at the spoon again. “But—but what if—what if we get
under each other’s feet and you start getting annoyed at me?”
From what I knew and from what he’d told me, this was what he’d
gone through most of his life, quietly going about his life, not saying a word
to anyone, or trying to be a bother about anything. “You’re not a bother,” I
said. “I want you here because we make each other happy.”
As he started eating, I ran my fingers from his head, pushing back
the hood to see the messy long hair. Combing my fingers through it, he
smiled, sipping the milk from the spoon. “Did you feed Sugar?”
I shook my head. “I know you like to feed him.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to decide now,” I said. “All I want is for you to be
happy, for us to be happy. And I don’t want you running back somewhere
every night and letting your side of the bed go cold.” We’d only been
together intimately for a few weeks, and yet, he’d left an impression—not
on the bed, but everywhere.
Between mouthfuls of the cereal, he looked at me. “I don’t—I don’t
want to rely on you.”
“Please,” I said, combing his hair back with my fingers. “I want you
to rely on me, I want you to need me, like I need you.”
“You don’t need me.” He looked away.
“I do.”
“But you have everything.”
“Everything but the world’s most precious boy,” I said, “and you fill
me with every want to protect, to guard, I would do anything for you.”
“Can I think about it?” He looked at a spoonful of cereal.
“Of course,” I said, standing. I kissed his forehead. “You can have
all the time to think about it. My offer stands. I want you to bring all your
things and fill this place with more than just what you’ve left and what I’ve
bought.”
“All my onesies?” his lips pressed together, forming a wide smile up
both sides of his cheek. “I have a lot of them. There would need to be a lot
of room made for me.”
“I’ll throw all my things out,” I said into a light laugh. “I’m semi-
serious about that part. I would make all the room for you. You already
have room here. I’m just asking you to make it permanent.”
It was true. I’d made a lot of room for Alexi, even if he didn’t
realise it. His onesies were hung in my closet and there was an entire
drawer filled with things for him. He might not have seen them, but they
were there.
“So, what do you think about the day I have planned? We can factor
in some time to visit yours and—unless, you want to stay there tonight.”
He shook his head. “My place is just one room, it’s so small, I don’t
want you to see that.”
I didn’t push him on it; I didn’t want to push him on it. Alexi wasn’t
the type of person to push, especially not when I was trying to convince him
to live with me. Perhaps I was being selfish. I wanted to wake up to him in
my bed every single night.
 19. ALEXI

Warren made me feel warm and special. He made everything fuzzy inside,
from the way he handed me juice cartons, to the way he let me defeat his
character on the console.
Furiously hammering my thumb onto the console pad, trying to
attack Warren’s player. I was quickly declared the winner. It was a combo
attack.
Warren clicked his tongue, chuckling. “What’s that now? Ten out of
ten wins?”
All while Sugar laid in the comfort of my lap, and the comfort of my
onesie. My brows sinking in my face, wide eyes looking at him. “Can we
play the farm game now?”
“You can play any game you want,” he said, “do you want me to
play as well?”
“It’s only one player,” I said. “I have it on my handheld one at
mine.”
“Well, we can go get it,” he said, his hand behind my head, rubbing
at my neck with a thumb. “I told you, whatever you want, you can have it.”
“Chocolate cake?”
He smiled at my question. The dimple in his cheek. “I can put on
my shoes and buy you one.”
“Homemade?”
“I can bake,” he said, “you want me in an apron? I can put an apron
on. Only an apron on.”
I could feel my cheeks blushing, looking over his body, distracted
by the question. He was still in his nightgown. We hadn’t yet been through
the shower stage of his morning plan.
 “I really like having you here, baby,” he said, his hand a little firmer
on my head, tickling me with his warm touch.
I liked being here; I liked to have him around me, especially when
he touched me on the back of my neck, and when he kissed me. I liked that
he would do anything. But I didn’t want to be a burden.
“Ok,” I said.
“Ok?”
“I will move in with you.” I stroked at the back of the kitten. He was
soft, and he purred lightly at the touch. “But only if you want me to.”
He chuckled, tugging at my head. “Of course, of course. I asked you
to move in with me. I was being serious. Deadly serious.”
“Ok.” I let out a shallow breath. I couldn’t control myself. I was
panicking to think about it. This was a big move, and I felt crazy doing it.
“But I don’t want to be a burden.”
“And—and you don’t have to work if you don’t want,” he said.
“You can stay here, take care of Sugar, and let me take care of you.”
I shook my head. It was the last thing I wanted. Well, taking care of
Sugar and being the best pet dad was high on the list of things I wanted to
do, but being a burden was last.
“You can pay me, how about that?”
“Pay you?”
“In hugs and kisses,” he chuckled, pulling my head to his lips. He
kissed me. “I want one million hugs and kisses from the cutest boy.” He
kissed my forehead again. “That’s you,” he whispered.
“That’s impossible,” I said, feeling my voice crack into a higher
pitch. I cupped a hand over my mouth. “But—” I jumped from the sofa with
Sugar in my arms and placed him in his bedding. “I can make a start now!”
 I leapt onto Warren’s lap, straddling with a knee at either side of
him. I immediately smushed my face against his, kissing him.
My hand on his cheeks, against the rough stubble. I continued to
kiss him, his tongue in my mouth. The taste of coffee on his tongue.
He pulled me at the waist, clenching me still, holding me down on
his lap. Pinned in place, he squeezed at me on the hips. “You can also take
care of this,” he said.
I felt the lump against the underside of the onesie. “I can take care
of that.”
Down on my knees, between his legs. He parted the robe to reveal
his throbbing erection. It was bouncing up and down, bowing its pink head
at me.
“It’s not a cake,” he said, “but you can lick the icing off.” His hand
at the back of my head, once more guiding me to his cock. His foreskin
pulled back with the glossy end. That was the icing, that was the sweetness.
He was always gentle, with every tug and pull. He was sweet, and
the taste was equally pleasant. His cock at the back of my throat. I went up
and down.
“Come here, baby.” He stroked the back of the onesie hood. “Take
this off.”
Standing, he tugged at the zipper. He pulled it all the way down to
see my cock strained against the pink fabric jock. “So, how many is that?” I
asked. “I think that’s already one million hugs, kisses, and—” My line of
sight dipped to his cock.
“Want me to fill you up like a little cream puff?” he asked. “Make
you my little dessert boy?”
“Please, daddy.”
 He turned me around, stripping the onesie down my legs. His warm
hands cupping at my cheeks. He parted them. The tickle of his facial hair
against the bottom of my back. He sniffed hard and deep.
“You like that?” he asked, spreading a hand up my back. “I like it
when you wear that tight little jock.”
I hummed, breath throttling in the back of my throat. “Yes.” The
warmth of his tongue pressed against my skin. My back arched, my body
tense, my toes curled.
With a wet finger, I felt him caress my hole. Soft, tender, his touch
oddly ticklish. I clenched. He liked it when I did that. Around his finger,
around his cock. I turned my head to see over my shoulder. He licked at his
lips, smiling.
“Come on, cream puff,” he said, a hand at my hip, a hand turning
me to face him. His robe open widely, revealing the chest pillow of hair and
the treasure trail map leading down to his cock.
Stepping out of the onesie, leaving it on the floor. I wanted to be a
part of him. I wanted him to be a part of me. I craved it.
He lifted me by my hips. I was really light. I liked to be picked up
like this. His touch down my back as he pulled me on his chest. I was still
wearing the tight pink jock strap. With a hand, he squeezed at my cock
inside. Gentle. His fingers twitching. He squeezed a little harder. He knew
if he kept doing it, I’d cum. I couldn’t control it.
“Slow, baby,” he said, tipping at my chin with two fingers. His
fingers traced a circle around my mouth. Parting my lips, he forced them
inside. “Wet them.”
With his wet fingers, he pressed them against my hole. Through a
shallow breath, I pressed my bare skin to the soft hair on his body. My chin
on his shoulder. A finger inside. He never forced it, always coaxed it in. He
pressed with the second. I felt like a walnut being opened.
He kissed my neck. “How does that feel?”
“I’m—I’m ready to be your cream puff.”
With one hand at my ass, pulling at a cheek, and another guiding the
pulsating warm tip of his cock to my hole. Clenching my eyes closed, I
wanted to feel every part of him enter.
“Just the tip,” he said, kissing my head. “Relax.” He cooed. “Relax a
bit.”
Easing on his cock, I could only think of the feeling of being
opened, being expanded, and explored. Every time, it was the same intense
exploration, my cock leaving a growing wet patch on the fabric.
His hands moved to my back, crossing each other as he reached for
my shoulders. He pulled me down all the way to the base. He lifted me and
pulled me back, sliding up and down on his cock.
“You like that?” he asked. “You want to take all of daddy’s cream?”
“Fill me up,” I let out, shallow from my throat. “I’m all yours.
Daddy. I’m all yours.”
He tugged me harder, pressing me with a passion from his
shoulders. “And you’re going to move in and be mine,” he said, “every
night, every night you’re going to be all nice and fill.” His mouth to my ear,
nibbling at the bottom of my lobe. “I’ll never let you want for anything.”
“Fill me up.”
“Are you going to cum?” he asked. “I’m letting you cum.” Pushing
me to lean back. He pulled at the jock. My cock exploded with ribbons of
cum, landing in his hair. He moaned, his intense hold on my shoulder
clenching at me.
 He filled me up. His cock throbbed. He was a squirty can of cream
and I was his cream puff.
 20. WARREN
ONE WEEK LATER

I couldn’t get him off my mind, like a song played over and over. His smile,
his touch, the way he clung to me like I was one of the oversized teddy
bears.
Alexi was a treasure I felt I’d saved from sinking to the bottom of
the ocean.
Marcus cleared his throat from the head of the boardroom, pulling
me from thought. “I haven’t seen your assistant around.”
Back to the marketing meeting, rather than the morning of cuddles
I’d got while he begged for me to let Sugar cuddle with us. The kitten
would need to grow before it could climb in bed between us. “Yeah, he quit.
Not a good fit for him.”
“First I’m hearing of it,” he grumbled back, flicking through paper
on the table.
I looked at Nick, Gareth, and Jane. They were all whipping through
the pages to find where Marcus was. It was the report to analyse the impact
of the food festival.
“Well, I think it’s safe to say the festival was a success,” he
grumbled, clearing his throat once more. “You’re lucky, I was having
serious doubts.”
“Are we done?” I asked. I used to live for work, I used to live for
talking about tactics and techniques. But now, all I wanted to live for was
the way Alexi felt on top of me, hammering his thumbs into the console
control, trying to distract me while beating my character in the game.
Marcus sighed. “Just the detail about how much those shot glasses
cost, and we were giving them away, for free?”
 My team looked at me. They seemed frightened to respond. The
order came directly from Marcus, hellbent on the shot glasses. “As you
said,” I reminded him.
“No, no, I would remem—”
“At our meeting on the 20th,” I said, picking a date from thin air and
stubbing a finger at a random part of the page. “You mentioned, very
enthusiastically about wanting shot glasses. You wanted the logo. I said it
would be great marketing—”
“A-ha, so, you said it was a great—”
“Would be,” I interrupted once more, “if this were an alcohol
promo, but it’s soft drinks. Sure, they’re great for branding and we still have
stock, but you signed off on it.” Something he’d made sure he was doing,
signing off on everything. Something I could have easily done. And instead,
he wanted to.
Marcus slapped the file shut. “I’m too hungry to continue this,” he
said, “after lunch, I might have a few more questions.”
Lunch. Currently, my favourite word. Alexi had been making
lunches, and each lunch had been a surprise. I told him to order out, but he
insisted he wanted to help out. He did have talents, other than being a good
cream puff. He was also great at taking care of the kitten, and he had a
knack for always choosing the fighter with the weakest power and still
beating me.
It was a fifteen-minute drive, and I was starving. I didn’t mind
coming home for my lunch. It would’ve been easier to eat out, but driving
back meant seeing Alexi. He was an introvert, and I knew he needed his
time to recharge.
“Oh no,” Alexi cried out as I walked through the front door. “I’m
not ready!”
 I immediately shut my eyes. Not looking along the direct view of
what I’d caught of him, standing in the kitchen wearing my apron. “I
thought you said you were making it. You haven’t turned the stove on, have
you?”
He chuckled. “I mean, I was going to put Sugar in those little
booties you got him online.”
I continued to chuckle at the thought. I’d told him when he saw
them, they weren’t for pets, they were for dolls, and he didn’t like dolls,
only teddies, the bigger the better in his eyes, and the large collection sitting
together at the corner of the bedroom. A small pile of teddies covering one
large bear.
“So, what’s for lunch?” I asked.
“It’s my favourite.”
“I’m your favourite,” I said. “Can I uncover my eyes yet?”
“No, no,” he said, “sit down and I’ll give it to you on a plate.”
He reached for my hand, taking me down the hall to the living room
with my back to the kitchen. Sitting, I was face first in front of the TV
screen. The kitten on the floor. I could hear his tiny claws against the
laminate.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Starving.”
Alexi approached. He was dressed in shorts and a crop top, with the
apron hooked around his neck. He presented a plate on my lap. He didn’t
like to eat at the dining table, it was a small one, where I mostly sat up to
with my laptop, but every time we ate, we sat on the sofa, sinking into the
cushions as a film played on the TV.
“Ta-da!” On the plate there was a ham sandwich with the crusts cut
off, a packet of salt and vinegar crisps, and a juice box.
 “For me?” I asked, smiling uncontrollably. “And what are you
having?”
He walked back to the counter. “I got the same,” he said. “It’s like a
picnic, but without being outside with all the flies and people.”
“I like it.”
Alexi took a seat beside me, snuggling himself up closer to me.
“You said not to use the stove or oven, so I didn’t.”
I wrapped my arm around his back. “You can use them, but they
have to be under daddy’s supervision.” I kissed at his forehead. I knew he
could use them. He wasn’t incapable of things, but I liked to watch over
him with dangerous things. “So, what have you been up to this morning?
Besides trying to get Sugar into a pair of dolly shoes.”
“I had to choose an outfit to wear,” he said, holding a hand out, he
listed on his fingers. “Outfit, then I was taking pictures of Sugar, and then I
had some ideas about what I wanted to do—”
“Oh, you did?”
He nodded. “And then I made lunch.”
“Whatever you want to do, I’m here to support you.”
“I set up the Instagram for Sugar, and he already has two-hundred
followers,” he said. “So, I have taken loads of pictures of him and I want to
do one of those things where it shows his growth.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” I said, raising a hand up from his back
to ruffle through his hair. “And nice work on finessing the algorithm.”
“I did a good job, right?”
“Amazing!”
With a wide grin, he looked at his food and picked at the corner of a
sandwich. “And also, I think maybe Sugar should have friends.”
“Friends?” I asked. “You want another kitten?”
 He shook his head. “No, no, I mean, I want to take him to that café.
He can meet everyone. I wonder if he has brothers and sisters there.”
I was already sure he had the name of a cat picked out for the
second one. “We can visit, I can also talk to my friend who works there.”
“And—and—maybe they’ll have a job,” he said. “I think it would
be ok, I’d be around cats and they’d make me happy.”
Perhaps a job would be good for him, not the job he’d had, but
something at a lower pace, and being surrounded by something he loved
wouldn’t hurt either. “I can ask,” I said. “And maybe you could help with
their Instagram too.” I knew my friend did their marketing, and he was
already on Instagram and social media, but it didn’t hurt to make Alexi feel
like he would be an asset.
“Soon Sugar will have so many friends.”
“Alexi,” I said, “you know most of them are there to be adopted.
Sugar might not see them again.”
“So, he’ll have friends all around the country.” He gasped. “That
sounds exciting, doesn’t it?” He clicked his tongue and snapped his fingers,
trying to get Sugar’s attention. “Maybe he can have cat pen pals, and they
can send each other letters with their paws.”
“That’s a great idea!” It was especially for Alexi to do. “I wonder if
Pink Paws have something like that in place. Like an update centre on
kittens and cats they’ve adopted.”
His eyes lit up. “Maybe I could do that!”
“Maybe!” It wouldn’t hurt to try to get him some work. “I’ll talk to
my friend about you. But you are ok here, alone, right?”
“I’m not alone,” he chuckled, stuffing his face with the corner of the
sandwich. “I have Sugar.”
 “Remember,” I said, trying not to laugh at his behaviour, “we don’t
speak when we’re eating.”
He snuggled his head into me. Lifting his feet on the coffee table,
his toes curled, rubbing together. This is what coming home for lunch was
all about.
 21. ALEXI

Nowhere ever felt like home, nowhere ever felt like I was sticking around
for longer than a few weeks or a couple months at the most. I moved so
much as a child, even if I had lived with my mother, and she had promised
me she’d be there.
I sort of stopped trusting people and what they said, I sort of let
them slip by me now with their lies, their promises, and their fake smiles.
Part of me wondered how Warren had made the cut. He was nice
from the first time I met him. He made me feel comfortable, even if he did
force me to go for coffee with him. It was a nice type of force, the hand-
holding type.
I didn’t even realise he was into me. I just thought he was being
kind because I was still new and I didn’t have friends. Even now, I had
barely spoken to Benny. I wanted to consider him a friend, but he hurt
Warren, and I knew Warren would never do something that would hurt me.
He was sweet, probably to a fault, letting me cuddle up to him at all
hours of the day and night. When I was around him, I didn’t feel my need to
recharge as much with video games. But I also still felt the need to be doing
something other than playing with Sugar, waiting for him to grow bigger.
I heard the door open. Laid on my back, dressed in my Totoro
onesie with Sugar laid on my chest. I lifted my head up. The film I’d
watched was rolling through credits now and I was trying to summon the
mood to do something.
“You’re back,” I called out.
“And I have good news,” he said, “and I also picked up KFC, with
one of those milkshakes. The strawberry one.”
 Moving Sugar aside, I jumped from the sofa, nearly falling flat on
my face from the slip beneath the feet of the onesie.
“Oh, steady,” he chuckled, as I held myself on the side of the couch.
The smell of KFC fried chicken travelled through the air. I inhaled
deeply, my tongue hanging out the side of my mouth. Warren chuckled.
“What did you do for the rest of the day?” he asked, “other than
climb inside that onesie.”
“I took more pictures, and there are these really funny filters, you
should see them on Sugar, it makes him look like he had human teeth.”
Recalling it back again, I chuckled harder.
“Well, I spoke to my friend at the café, and he said they will have
some jobs going.”
I let out a squeal, my hands clenching with excitement. “Seriously?
Like, just playing with cats and kittens. I can do that so well. I’m basically a
cat.”
He wiggled his brows at me. “I thought you were my cream puff.”
“I am, but around cats I’m a cat,” I told him.
“And around giant teddy bears, what are you?”
“Asleep,” I chuckled. That was true though, they were so comfy, it
was impossible not to fall asleep when you were next to one, especially
when it felt like they were hugging you back.
“Right, right, of course,” he said, pulling at the tie around his neck.
“I think we should celebrate that then.”
“Actually, I was thinking, it’s your birthday soon.”
“In three months.”
“That’s soon,” I said.
“Well, I’d like to stay thirty for as long as possible,” he said.
“Thirty-one just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
 Sitting on the floor, I folded my arms. “Well, I was thinking—”
“Ok, baby,” he said, “what were you thinking?”
Puffing my cheeks, I sighed. “I don’t know what to get you,” I
confessed. “So, what do you want for your birthday?”
“Better question,” he said, rustling the plastic bag to unbox the food.
“What do you want for your birthday?”
“Mine’s next year.”
“Fine,” he chuckled. “I want you to be happy. And I want it to be a
secret. Once everyone knows I’m thirty-one, that’s when the silver will start
coming through.”
“Silver daddy,” the words slipped from my mouth.
“Oh, you like that?” His wide smile chewed into the dimple on his
cheek. “My dad, my dad’s dad, they all went silver young-ish.”
I couldn’t imagine him silver. He didn’t have a thick head of hair. It
was short, black, matching the colour of his chest hair. “You’d match with
Sugar,” I said.
“And then you’d have to dye your hair,” he said, wiggling his
brows. “We could all be silver.”
I wasn’t sure how much I liked that idea. I’d never dyed my hair,
and I’d never thought about it either. I’d thought of cutting it all off, but
those were moments of madness, and I didn’t feel madness around him. It
was a nice feeling, a warm feeling, tickling at my stomach. It was like
drinking a warm coffee, followed by an ice pop.
He knelt at my level as I sat on the ground. “You’re my favourite,”
he said, hooking his arms beneath me. He lifted to pick me up. I was so
light in his arms. Immediately, I wrapped my legs around his waist. “I love
you,” he said.
 “I love you too,” I whispered, placing my chin on his shoulder,
hugging him tight with my legs at his waist and my arms around his chest.
He kissed my cheek. “So, you sit here, I’ll bring you food and your
milkshake, and we’ll talk about what my friend told me about the café.”
I squeezed him tighter in my legs at the mention of the café. I was
excited to be around all those cats and maybe find Sugar a friend, or maybe
even a partner. I wasn’t sure if he was straight or gay, we hadn’t talked
about that yet, but I’m sure as he gets older he’ll let us know.
Gently placed on the sofa, he kissed my forehead. “Stay there. I’ll
be back with your food. Don’t move a muscle.”
“I won’t,” I said, taking extra precautions and an extra seriousness
to my role of staying still, even if the softness of the couch meant I was
wiggling slightly. I was also too excited to talk about getting a job. “If I get
a job, does that mean you only get half a million hugs and kisses?”
He chuckled. “If anything, it means I want more.”
 EPILOGUE
THREE MONTHS LATER
FRIDAY

WARREN

It was unusual to wake without the startling ring of my alarm. It was rare I
woke without feeling tired. There was a sweet mint scent in the air.
Through hazy eyes, I reached out to my side. Blurred. My brows
creased. There was a large teddy bear in my bed. It wasn’t Alexi.
Where was Alexi? Why hadn’t my alarm gone off?
Turning over, I reached the bedside table for my phone. There was a
piece of pink paper folded over it.
‘Happy Birthday. It’s gonna be a special day for a special daddy!’ It
was written in different coloured crayons, the same crayons he had for his
colouring books. It brought a smile to my face. Then the realisation settled
in. It was my birthday.
I’d told Alexi I didn’t want anything special. I’d taken the day off
work, forced to because Alexi said we’d be spending the day in our
pyjamas.
Out of bed, I quickly realised he’d sold me a lie. He wasn’t in the
flat at all, and he’d taken Sugar with him as well. I looked back in the
bedroom, wondering if there was another note or text from him.
The teddy bear in the bed was a nice touch, but it was twice the size
of him, and fluffy. Of course, it wasn’t going to replace him.
It was 9:44 A.M. I grabbed my robe and went back into the living
room where the blinds had been opened, filling the flat with bright blue
morning light.
 Another note on the counter. The same pink paper.
‘Have some breakfast and then text me.’ In those same crayons, with
‘text me’, underlined twice. Of course, he hated calling, and I knew he’d
rather text.
I had told him no surprises, so I guess it was just me listening to his
wishes. Even though I was excited about the surprise. I wondered what he’d
planned, my mind creating all different types of scenarios. It was unlike him
to do this, especially since we’d already agreed on a really nice day
together, only together, enjoying each other.
I made myself a slice of toast and I ate it while walking around the
apartment, looking for clues as to what Alexi had planned and what he had
in store. It was a surprise I hadn’t noticed him planning it. Unless he’d
planned it while he was at work.
I showered and got dressed before texting him. Wearing a blue
button-down shirt with a vest beneath it, and a pair of denim shorts. It was
warm at the end of July.
While I enjoyed the heat and warmer weather, it meant Alexi had
stopped wanting to dress in the cute, cuddly onesies. He’d now started
sleeping in a jock, and that was heaven to wake up to. His skin on mine. But
it also meant I was running on fumes, as my erection could only get so
strong each day.
Ding.
He’d sent me the address.
It was the same address as the cat café, Pink Paws.
He hadn’t mentioned he’d be at work today. In fact, I figured he had
the day off as well. But it was 10:38 A.M. and maybe he’d made plans for
lunch. A picnic? I wondered.
 Arriving twenty minutes later. I looked through the window to see
Alexi in the pink t-shirt with the company logo on. He was cuddled up with
Sugar in his arms. Sitting at a table with two men, Grant and my best friend,
Harry. They were all wearing pink cone birthday hats.
“Wow,” I said, entering the café.
They were sitting at the table next to the window.
“Happy birthday,” Alexi immediately said, standing. He blushed,
sitting as quickly. A little loud for him. He smiled, covering a hand over his
mouth. His head tilted to Sugar at his side.
“Happy birthday,” the other two said.
“I’m actually surprised,” I admitted. “I didn’t think Alexi would
ever do something like this.”
Harry chuckled. “I told him you weren’t a fan of surprises.”
I shuffled into the seat beside Alexi, giving him a hug and kissing
his cheek. “It’s a nice surprise.”
“Oh, well, it doesn’t stop there,” Grant said. “We’ve got more where
that came from. A badge. A sash. And your own hat.” He plucked at the
string beneath his chin, keeping his hat in place.
Harry handed me a small gift bag from across the table. “To make
sure everyone knows you’re the birthday boy,” he said.
Alexi’s hand was at my side, hugged around my waist. He pulled me
in close. “I have another surprise,” I said.
Grant tssked his teeth. “I’m not sure if he’ll like this one though.”
“He’ll love it,” Harry said.
Nervous. Usually it wasn’t split down the middle. They both knew
me. They should know how I’d react to surprises, good or bad. I didn’t
know what this one was, but it was coming. “Well?” I asked, waiting after a
brief pause.
 “When you brought me here, you told me to pick a kitten,” he said.
“Why don’t you pick one?”
“Me?” I asked. Alexi was the one who took care of Sugar. I was just
there to fill the saucer with milk sometimes. I planted my hand on his knee.
“I think you should pick for me.”
His eyes lit up like a child on Christmas. “Really? Because—
because Sugar has a friend, and—”
I nodded. My hand beneath his chin, I pulled his ear to my lips.
“Whatever my boy wants, it can be your special day too.” I kissed him on
the cheek.
“Ok!” Harry shouted, “put the party hat on, because they’re about to
play music and Marcella has even made a special birthday milkshake, just
for you!”
I looked at Alexi again. This time my eyes were wide, but with
worry. “Only if you share it with me,” I said, patting Alexi’s knee.
“Noooooo,” he chuckled, “I’m picking a cat!” He scooted out from
beneath the table and was in his second home, the kitten pen.
Sugar snuggled up to me in the warmth of his seat while he’d gone.
“So,” Harry said, “I nearly told you about it the other day when I
called you.”
“You still didn’t tell me why you called. I thought it was a pocket
dial.”
Harry chewed on his tongue. He’d never been someone to become
lost for words. “Well,” he said, “you’ll probably hear about it sooner or
later, but I actually went on a date with that guy.”
Enthralled in what he was saying, I was trying to piece together all
the different people we’d ever talked about. “Who? Which?”
“You know, Benito,” he said.
 I knew him as Benny. His name gave me war flashbacks of a time
when he drove me crazy. “Well, enjoy that,” I chuckled.
“This one!” Alexi shouted, holding up a kitten. “I think it’s a girl.
We can call her Syrup!”
Grant’s eyes grew. He didn’t even need to look behind to see Alexi
in his excitement. “Well, looks like Alexi’s dream of having a house filled
with kittens is going to come true.”
“Don’t you know it,” I laughed. “Is it too early to get a beer?”
Alexi approached the table with the cat in his arms. He was red in
the face, a permanent smile splashed across him. “Do you like her?”
She was light brown with an orange glow to her coat. “She’s perfect.
Just like you.”
Grant and Harry seemed uncomfortable with our affection, but I
knew it warmed Alexi, and that’s what mattered.
 The Next DADDY’S BOY Book
Oo, you’re a curious one. I like you. Once you the title, I’m sure you’ll get
a sense of another theme going on with this series.
The second book features Ben, Benny, Benito… or as we know him on the
forum, BrattyBoy69.
Get ready for A DADDY FOR BENITO coming to a Kindle e-reader soon.
And if you can’t wait until then, join me on Patreon.com/JoeSatoria for
exclusives, including NSFW artwork, early-access chapters, and advanced
reading copies.
 A UTHOR’S NOTE
Hello reader, Firstly, thank you for reading A DADDY FOR ALEXI. The
idea hit when all good ideas do, and that’s the middle of the night.
Sweating, unaware of your surroundings while trying to keep the idea fresh
in your mind. Safe to say, the notes on my phone weren’t nearly as cohesive
as the book.
Prior to release, I was floored with the support over this book and the idea. I
have a huge heart and a lot of love for the daddy kink community,
especially when it comes to protecting their sweet boys.
I also want to thank A. W. Scott for being a fountain of support and
encouraging me with this book, and the future books to come.
If you enjoyed the book, please consider leaving a review.
And join me on my journey.
A huge THANK YOU to my Patreon supporters!
Tiers Exhibitionist, Daddy’s Boy, and Book Daddy Nikki Mitchell Bruno
Neves Cassie Geiger Honourable mentions for the Satoria’s Steam Room.
And thank you for reading!
 ABOUT the AUTHOR

JOE SATORIA is a British MM romance author currently living in—who

knows—anywhere in the world, really. He’s a hopeful romantic—the hope
being in his ability to one day find romance outside of fiction. And he’s also
a cat person—but deathly allergic to them.

If you can find me, follow me—I won’t get a restraining order (this time).

If you love a good contemporary gay romance novel, I’ll be serving it up to

you from my favourite place in the entire world—my bed.

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Daddy’s Boy Standalone Series: A Daddy for Alexi

A Daddy for Benito
And more to come…

Other books by Joe: Mr Nice Guy – Age Gap Romance Mr Next Door –
Age Gap Romance Press One for Fake Boyfriend – Fake Relationship Press
Two for Fake Fiancé – Fake Relationship Break A Sweat – Sports Romance
Out of Your League – Sports Romance
Visit Joe’s website at www.JoeSatoria.com for an up-to-date list of releases,
as well as any sneak peeks and exclusives you might have missed.