Page 35 of Saving Little Clark

I let out a slightly hysterical laugh, my mind flooded with images of Brody bursting into my room and making love to me on the spot, decorum be damned.

With a determined nod, I headed to my bedroom and dove into my closet, my hands rifling through hangers and drawers. But as the minutes ticked by and the pile of discarded clothes on my bed grew higher, I felt my frustration mounting.

Nothing was worthy of this momentous occasion. I was just about to give up, to collapse on my bed in a defeated heap and tell Brody to go on without me, when a soft, amused chuckle from the doorway made me whirl around, my eyes wide and startled.

And there he was, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed and a smirk playing at his lips, his eyes dancing with a mix of affection and exasperation.

"Babe, what on earth are you doing?" he asked, his voice warm with laughter. "I thought you were just going to change real quick, not stage a fashion show for the ages."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, my gaze dropping to the floor. "I wanted to look nice for you.”

Brody's expression softened, his eyes going tender and fond as he pushed off the doorway and crossed the room to stand in front of me. "Clark," he murmured, his hands coming up to cup my face, to tilt my chin up until I was forced to meet his gaze. "You don't need to impress me, okay?”

"Okay," I whispered, leaning into his touch with a shaky sigh.

As he pulled back, his gaze drifting over my shoulder to the nightstand behind me, I saw his eyes widen, a flicker of surprise and curiosity crossing his face.

"Hey," he said slowly, his voice carefully neutral. "Is that a pacifier? And a sippy cup?"

I felt my heart stop dead in my chest, a cold wave of panic washing over me. Oh god, I had forgotten to hide them from view before Brody came over.

For a moment, I was tempted to lie. But as I looked into his eyes, I knew I couldn't lie. Not to him.

So, with a deep, shuddering breath, I nodded, my eyes filling with tears as I braced myself for the worst.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice small and shaky. "They're mine. I'm a Little, Brody. Just like Alex."

For a long, heartstopping moment, he didn't say anything. He just looked at me, his expression unreadable, his eyes searching mine like he was trying to see into my very soul.

And I felt like I was going to shatter into a million pieces, like I was going to fly apart at the seams from the sheer terror and anticipation of his response.

"I'm sorry," I babbled, the words spilling out of me in a desperate, panicked rush. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I'm sorry I'm not normal, or easy, or whatever it is you want me to be. I understand if you don't want to see me anymore, if you think I'm too much of a freak or a weirdo to be with."

Chapter 15: Brody

Ever since Will told me he’d seen Clark at the club, I had suspected, of course. Had seen the signs, the little tells and quirks that hinted at a side of him that he kept hidden from the world. The way his eyes would light up when I brought him small gifts or treats, the way he would go soft and pliant in my arms when I held him close, the way he would sometimes slip into a carefree headspace when we were alone together.

But to hear him say it out loud, to have him confirm what I had only dared to hope for in the secret, yearning corners of my heart? It was everything. And now, as I hugged him tighter, as I breathed in the sweet, familiar scent of his shampoo and felt the tremors of his body slowly start to ease, I knew that I would do anything, everything, to prove myself worthy of the gift he had just given me. The gift of his trust, his vulnerability, his true and authentic self.

"Thank you for being honest with me," I murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "It couldn't have been easy."

He let out a shaky laugh, his face still buried in the crook of my neck. "It wasn't," he admitted, his voice muffled and small. "I was so scared that you would think I was a freak, or a weirdo, or too much to handle."

"Never," I said fiercely, cupping his face in my hands. "I could never think those things about you.”

"But how can you be so sure?" he whispered, his hands fisting in the fabric of my shirt like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go.

"Because I know you, Clark," I said softly, my thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. "I may not have known aboutthis specific part of you until now, but I know your heart. The truth is, I've been doing a lot of research lately. About the whole community."

Clark's eyes widened. "You have?" he asked, his voice small and wondering. "But why?"

I shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to understand," I said honestly, my hands sliding down to rest on his waist. "I wanted to be there for you in whatever way you needed. And the more I learned, the more right it felt. Like it was something I had been searching for my whole life without even realizing it."

Clark swallowed hard, his eyes shining with fragile hope. "And what did you find exactly?"

I smiled, soft and slow. "I learned that being a Daddy is not just about playing pretend. It's about creating a space where a Little can be themselves, without fear of judgment or rejection. And Clark..."

I leaned in close, my breath ghosting over his lips. "There is nothing in this world that I want more than to be that for you. To be your safe place, your shelter, your everything."

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