Page 4 of Little Boy Toy

The man motioned to a chair nearby, one for small littles, although we came in all sizes. “May I sit with you while you read?”

My eyes widened. “You’ll never fit in that.”

“Won’t I?” He had blue eyes, the color bright and searing through messy dark bangs.

He walked over to the chair, lifted it as if it weighed next to nothing, and brought it over to my side. He then got to his knees, stuck his butt up a little, and wiggled it into the chair. He legs were a tangle on that low seat, so he stuck them straight out in front of him. They stretched forever, it seemed. He crossed his feet at the ankles, then looked at me.

“It isn’t the most comfortable chair in the room,” he confessed.

“You look silly.”

“Do I?”

I nodded, my fingers petting the page of my book as I itched to get back to it. This man was weird.

“I don’t care if I look silly.” He tossed his head back, his bangs falling back to reveal a high, smooth forehead. “You can laugh at me. I won’t mind.”

“Have you always been so big?”

He jerked his head to me, eyebrows narrowing. “Yes, I was born this way.”

“Not possible.”

“If you know better, why did you ask?”

I wasn’t sure. Maybe I was just being mean. It wasn’t like me to be rude. But this man was intruding on my story time. He was the rude one.

“Self-defense,” I said.

“That answer makes no sense.”

I didn’t feel like explaining myself, so I kept quiet.

The man looked like he was thinking hard. Then he said, “Oh. I understand. You wanted to fight.”

“No. I don’t fight.”

“You’re defensive. It’s a style of fighting.”

I gulped.

“Do you think I’m rude?” the man asked.

“You’re interrupting my reading time.”

“Am I?”

I nodded.

“May I remind you of where you are?”

“I’m in the reading corner,” I replied.

“Yes.” He glanced about the room. “The reading corner in a gay club. A gay kink club.”

“So?”

“I’m only pointing out that you have chosen to go to a place where you quite literally cannot be alone.”

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