Page 17 of Lane's Lost Kitten

“No, I wasn’t sure it was my turn or if it was another of many gifts chosen to spoil a certain cat.” He did treat her like gold, one of his best qualities if anyone were to ask me.

“Yeah, I guess I do, do that.” He took Cat-terine from me and rubbed noses with her. “But how can I not? You’re the kind of cute no one can resist.”

I grabbed the bag and sat on the couch, tossing the tissue paper. When I reached inside the bag, there was a pair of footie jams and a crochet hook, complete with paci attached to it, similar to the one I wore the first time Elio saw anything little about me.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“I thought we could have a daddy little day…you and me together. We could watch The Princess Bride and you can wear your new cuddly pajamas and use your paci. After the movie, we could have lunch. I got that macaroni and cheese you like, and I even found the cutest dishes that have small squares in them to separate your food—divided dishes, I think they are called.”

A little day. Elio was offering me a little day. No, that wasn’t true, it was a daddy/little day. Elio referred to himself as a daddy. That was huge.

“Yeah, I don’t know if they’re the kind you like. They have these little panda bears on them. I thought they were cute.” He set the kitten down.

“Pandas?”

He nodded.

“I love pandas.” I nearly tackled Elio to the ground. “You’re amazing.”

“I think that’s your title.” He kissed the top of my head.

I held him closer. “Want to help me get dressed?”

He stepped back slightly. “Yeah.” His enthusiasm was overflowing. Not having been daddy to a little before, it wasn’t a surprise that he didn’t have the normal gear. It was a pair of pajamas that I loved, but was missing things like thick underwear or even a diaper. I ended up wearing my boxers underneath.

But really, none of that mattered. He took this time to do this for me. All of this was for me.

We snuggled up on the couch together. I sucked down my paci, my head in his lap, watching one of my all-time favorite movies, and when it was over, we had lunch together. The divided dish was far cuter than I’d imagined it would be, and I was imagining cuteness.

“Was this okay?” he asked, pointing to the macaroni and cheese.

“This was so much more than okay, Daddy.”

It was the first time I had said that word aloud in relation to him, and I meant it with every fiber of my being.

“Is that okay?” I asked.

“More than,” he said.

Chapter Fourteen

Elio

I had positively held my breath when I made Lane dinner after we watched The Princess Bride that day, hoping I was doing things right. That the shaped mac’n’cheese I picked out was good for the dishes. I wasn’t an expert daddy, by any means, but I was looking forward to learning and grateful for the patience a certain little demonstrated with me nearly all the time. More than I’d have been able to manage, for sure.

Being a caretaker either came naturally or it did not, I believed, and looking back at my other relationships where I’d tried to extend that and been rejected pretty firmly, I wondered how it had taken me so long to get to this point. Could I have had stronger relationships if I’d been with other littles instead of the really independent-anything-but littles I’d chosen? Or was it just a matter of finding myself with one in particular, the right little for me. The one who brought my caregiving instincts to the forefront and made me a true daddy.

I’d probably never know, but what mattered was that I’d met someone who made me wake up every morning looking forward to seeing what the day would bring. I still went about my jobs in the building and all the other things that made up my life, but once Lane was home from work, the real day began. We were eating dinner together quite often now, spending our evenings and weekends together, and some of that time he was big, others little. Life was so much more interesting and joyous with Lane in it.

And with that in mind, I came to the conclusion that our relationship required something a little formal at this point. A special occasion to celebrate and, hopefully, cement the daddy/little side of our relationship. I picked a Friday night when we could stay up late if we chose and not have to worry about getting up early. Or at least Lane wouldn’t. My schedule was more flexible than his since I didn’t have to go to an office.

On the weekends, he often helped me with my work, and on a couple of occasions, he’d been flagged down by other tenants to help them out with a problem. They just saw us together so much, they assumed it was his job, too, I guessed. I told him he could just send them to me, but he got a kick out of the new skills he was picking up, he insisted.

I spent a whole week planning how I would do it, shopping and watching YouTube videos for recipe ideas before Friday finally arrived. I decided not to use the little dishes or anything like that because it really was up to Lane when that happened, and he hadn’t mentioned wanting to be little this weekend so far. And I didn’t think it was necessary for him to be when I popped the question.

I had in mind a dinner that was not little, but that had elements of little, and in the end decided to serve a favorite of mine—although not one I’d ever prepared before. So I spent Tuesday down the rabbit hole on YouTube watching one influencer after another make spaghetti carbonara. Wednesday, I learned the art of New York cheesecake, and I figured I could manage a salad and garlic bread on my own. I set the table and bought flowers. I even lit a couple of candles because they said special occasion to me. And then I set the small box with the gift I’d bought him by his place. And waited.

And got a text: I’m running a little late. Be there soon.

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