Page 40 of Saving Little Clark

A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face. "No one's ever wanted to just hang out with Little me before."

"Well I do," I declared firmly.

Clark giggled, the sound light and giddy as he clambered out of the car. He barely waited for me to lock up before seizing my hand and tugging me into the building.

The second we crossed the threshold of his apartment, he cast furtive glances at his bedroom.

"Why don't you go get changed into something comfier while I call the restaurant and let them know we won't make it tonight?"

He scurried off down the hall and I chuckled, endeared by his obvious eagerness.

I busied myself with the phone call, apologizing profusely to the hostess and hoping my generous tip would make up for the late cancellation.

Faint rustling noises emanated from the direction of his bedroom - dresser drawers opening and shutting. I crept down the hall and rapped my knuckles lightly against the partially open door.

"Sweetheart? You doing okay in there?"

A gasp, followed by a thud and muffled curse. Then Clark's breathy voice drifted out. "I'm just trying to find something to wear."

I nudged the door open a fraction, just enough to poke my head in. Clark stood by the closet, his back to me, shoulders hunched and arms wrapped tight around his middle. He was clad only in a pair of snug briefs.

"Hey," I murmured, slipping into the room. "What's going on?”

"Nothing, I'm fine. Just being indecisive, I guess."

I settled my hands on his shoulders. "Talk to me, baby boy.”

At the sound of his cherished nickname, he shivered. The pieces fell into place - the nerves, the hesitation. He was feeling self-conscious about being Little in front of me, stripped bare of his usual big boy armor.

"I think my sweet prince deserves a little pampering tonight. Starting with a proper Daddy-approved outfit for our movie marathon."

Clark blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"

I made a show of eyeing the closet critically. "Well, we're gonna need something extra cozy for snuggling, obviously. Maybe some fuzzy socks to keep these little piggies warm?"

I wriggled my fingers in the vicinity of his bare feet, delighting in his giggle as he shuffled back half a step. I then began pawing through the closet and dresser with enthusiasm.

I pretended to be a fashion photographer on a shoot, calling out increasingly ridiculous poses and commands until Clark was a giggling, wiggling mess, wholly unable to hold onto an ounce of self-consciousness.

"This dinosaur onesie is perfect for showcasing your fierce cuteness. These rainbow socks will make you the envy of every Little at the playdate. That's it, baby, give me fierce! Pout for the camera, yes! Oh, now do Blue Steel! Magnum! Work it, work it! You're a star!”

By the time I pronounced him ready, every last item of Little gear in place, Clark was loose-limbed and glowing, his eyes sparkling with unrestrained, childlike glee. He preened under my over-the-top flattery, twirling in place to show off his outfit from all angles.

"Well?" he demanded breathlessly, striking one last silly pose. "How do I look? Am I cute enough for our date night?"

Catching him mid-spin, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him flush against my front, smacking a noisy kiss to his lips just to hear him giggle.

"The cutest," I declared solemnly. "In fact, I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my hands off you all night. Prepare to be snuggled within an inch of your life, my boy."

"Ooh, death by snuggles!" Clark giggled. "There are worse ways to go, I guess.”

I chuckled, indescribably charmed by this bubbly, Little version of my usually reserved boyfriend. The chime of my cell phone shattered the warm, hazy cocoon.

"I'll get it. You just sit tight.”

I hurried to fish the offending device out of my pocket and stepped away.

"Brody!" Will's voice boomed. "You still on that big date with Clark? Alex wants to know if he needs to wait up with the ice cream and rom coms."

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