Page 43 of The Trailer Park Twink
He nods. “I’ve been trying to come up with a way for us to be together without everyone thinking I’m a monster. I think it’s the only way for us to have a fresh start. We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but if you do, I’d like to build a life with you here.”
“Would that make us boyfriends?” My heart is slamming in my chest, and my cheeks feel like they've caught fire.
“It would make us everything, Austin. Everything.”
It feels like my heart is going to leap out of my chest, because this is more than I could have hoped for. It’s like every dream I’ve ever dreamed is coming true, and I need him to know how much it means to me.
I bury my face in his neck and breathe Daddy in. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You don’t even know.”
“Then tell me,” he whispers, pulling me closer.
I know the words have the power to turn his desire to disgust, but I need to get the words out. “I’ve loved you for so long. Right from the start. I think I knew the first time I saw you.”
His eyes widen, but he doesn’t pull away. “But you were . . .” Closing his eyes, he sighs, but he’s not pushing me off his lap, so it makes me hopeful that I haven’t mucked it up completely.
“I know. And I know that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s my truth. Just as true as the fact that I signed up for OnlyFans just so I could jack off for you every day.”
“You did that for me? What about all your fans?”
“Who gives a damn about the fans? It was only ever for you. Getting to talk to you every day—having you hear me come on your lunch break every afternoon—is the only thing I cared about. I love you, Dallas. I always have and I always will. Have I done things that are problematic to get us here? Yes.”
“What kind of things?”
Well, we’re in the thick of it now, and he isn’t running, so maybe I’ve got this wrong. Maybe he won’t hate me for my creepy side. Maybe he’ll eventually revel in it. “I used to smell your underwear in the hamper when I would jack off.”
“You did?”
I nod, probably more proudly than I should. “Sometimes you’d leave a little pre-cum in them. I’d lick it all clean.” I wait to gauge his reaction, and while I’m not seeing a whole lot of anger in his eyes, he doesn’t look particularly happy. “Do you hate me?”
“Of course not. It’s not the most sanitary thing in the world, but I just licked your asshole, so who am I to judge?” He takes a swig of the champagne. “Is there more?”
“Yes, sir. When I was little, I used to spy on you. Just a little though.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Just a little?”
“I would steal your mail and stuff. I just wanted to know more about you. Your name. Your creditors. All your business. I wanted to know everything, but your mail was always boring as hell. I used to get really mad at you about it, because I knew you were an interesting man, so it felt like you were hiding all those interesting parts from me.”
“I didn’t even know you,” he says, which, yeah. True.
“I was a teenager, Dallas. I can’t be held accountable for my thoughts or behavior. I was basically a walking erection. It’s cruel to be mad at me for it, so don’t.”
He furrows his brows, but he hasn’t given up on me yet, so that makes me feel a little better. “What else?”
“I . . . I used to climb into the tree behind your house and watch you through the window.”
“You didwhat?” He jolts upright like he’s about to stand, but stops himself when he remembers I’m still in his lap. “The old oak tree by my bedroom?” I don’t know why the hell he’s asking, because there’s only one tree on his lot.
“Yeah.”
“Why—what would you even . . . How often?”
“Every night,” I admit. “I would climb up there and watch you in your room.”
He swallows. “Watching me do what?”
“I couldn’t see much because of the bed frame, but your arm was usually pumping pretty fast.”
“Ah, Christ.” He closes his eyes and sighs. “You climbed the tree?”
