Page 40 of Nicky

I sat up straight, my heart pounding in my chest. My thoughts tangled into a mess I couldn’t process fast enough. “But… why? I don’t get it.”

“It’s not that weird, Nicholas.” He said it so calmly, like we were talking about the weather. “It’s about trust. About comfort. Feeling safe with someone who’s got your back. Someone who lets you be soft when the world makes you feel like you can’t be.”

His words hit me in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I let out a shaky breath, staring at the ceiling. A knot twisted in my chest, tight and painful and… something else. Maybe relief. Maybe confusion.

“And before you ask, no, it’s not about literal dads. Gross. It’s just… a dynamic. A way to care for someone, you know? It’s not that different from what you probably already do with people you care about.”

I blinked, the weight of his words sinking deeper into me. How many times had I done something like that without realizing? How many times had I given someone my trust and leaned on them in a way that wasn’t entirely about being equal? I’d been the one to protect, to support. But was that any different?

“You’re into someone who’s into it, huh?” Aiden’s voice was softer now, like he could hear what I wasn’t saying.

I didn’t respond, the question hanging heavy between us.

“Don’t mess this up,” Aiden said quietly, and for the first time in my life, it wasn’t advice from my little brother. It was a warning.

I let his words sit with me for a long moment, the silence stretching out longer than I wanted it to. I never thought I’d be the one askinghimabout sex advice. I was the big brother—the one who was supposed to have all the answers. And yet, it was Aiden who had always been the more confident one, the one who had come out to me at fifteen with barely a hesitation, while I’d barely been able to speak the words to my mom at the same age.

There had been no drama, no tension when Aiden came out. He’d just said it, as if he was telling me what he had for lunch. But me? I’d fought to keep my own secret until it was absolutely unavoidable. That difference was always there, but now, it felt like a gap that stretched wider than I ever realized.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, my voice quiet but firm.

Aiden paused. I could almost hear him shrug through the phone. "Because I didn't need to. You were always so wrapped up in your own head about things. But you asked, so here we are."

A soft laugh bubbled up from me. I wanted to be angry—at Aiden for not telling me sooner, or at myself for not seeing this side of him. But that would’ve been ridiculous. We were close, but not in a way where he had to share every single thing. He was allowed to have his secrets.

“I don’t know what to do with this,” I admitted.

“Figure it out. Don’t let it mess with you. He’s still the guy you like, right? Doesn’t change that. Just means you might be into something new.”

I rubbed my eyes, feeling the weight of the conversation sink into me. “Yeah. I guess. But what if I can’t get past it?”

Aiden’s laugh was low, but full of understanding. “Just don’t let it be a dealbreaker because you’re afraid to explore. Give it a chance.”

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to embrace that part of me. But with Aiden’s encouragement, I wasn’t as scared of it. The knot in my chest had loosened a little. It still felt like something I couldn’t fully wrap my head around, but it didn’t feel like it had to be the thing that ended this—whatever it was with Markus.

When the call ended, I stayed on the couch, my phone heavy in my hand. Then, without fully deciding to, I opened the browser.

I stared at the blank search bar, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Aiden’s words were still buzzing in my head:Trust. Comfort. A way to care for someone.It sounded simple when he said it, but nothing about this felt simple.

What the hell was I even looking for?

I typed “Daddy kink” into the search bar and instantly regretted it. Porn. I let out an exaggerated sigh. “Really? Now? When I’m actually trying to educate myself,thisis what I get?” The irony was almost painful. I’d wasted hours before trying to find decent porn and come up empty. But the second I wanted something informational? Bam—wall-to-wall beefcake.

Scrolling past the digital buffet of abs and smirks, I finally found something promising:Daddy Dom/Little Boy Relationships: What They Really Mean.

“Okay, don’t let me down,” I muttered, clicking on the link. A small part of me braced for an ad to pop up screaming about discreet shipping for adult toys, but thankfully, the page loaded cleanly.

The author described the dynamic in a way that caught me off guard: “At its core, the Daddy/boy relationship isn’t about age. It’s about roles. One partner, the Daddy, provides support, structure, and care. The other, the boy, feels safe to bevulnerable, playful, or even dependent in a way that balances the relationship.”

I frowned, reading the paragraph twice. Support? Structure? Vulnerability? None of that fit the cringey stereotype I’d had in my head. Wasn’t this supposed to be about control and power?

Then I read further: “Daddy kink can be about healing old wounds. For the boy, it might mean having a space to trust completely, to give up control in ways they’ve never felt safe to do. For the Daddy, it’s about offering that stability and trust, and sometimes exploring their own softer side.”

My chest tightened. Markus’s words from that night replayed in my mind:I’d never want you to be anything other than who you are.He’d been trying to explain something much deeper than I’d let myself hear.

I scrolled down to the comments section, curiosity burning brighter now. A mix of personal stories, questions, and debates filled the page. One post stood out: “Being someone’s boy doesn’t make you weak—it makes you brave. It takes guts to let go like that and trust someone to catch you. And it takes love to be the kind of Daddy who’s worthy of that trust.”

Guts. I’d thought I had plenty of those. I’d raised Aiden, handled Mom’s death, and put my own dreams on hold. But trusting someone to carry even a fraction of that weight? That was a whole other kind of courage.

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