Then I put myself to bed. It was hard work being an adult all the time. I had to pull the bed out, yank the duvet and pillows out of the small crevice they always got stuck in, and then I had to read myself bedtime stories. Granted, I enjoyed doing that, since it wasn’t just for me, it was for all the teddies in the room too.
I only slept with one teddy on my bed, a larger stuffed teddy called Albert. He was named when I was younger, but I couldn’t change his name now, even if he did sound like an old man. He’d been sewn back together and restuffed more times than I could remember.
Sleep came for me fast as I cuddled Albert tight. He’d slipped between my thighs in the middle of the night, and in that dream, my legs had been wrapped around Henry. I didn’t know which part, but I just knew they were around him, tight, squeezing, almost begging him for attention.
The following day, I tried not to think about how I’d behaved around Henry because I really didn’t know how it had been received. Part of me wondered if I’d put him in the friend zone first. I had a habit of coming off a little too hard on people when they were getting to know me. It wasn’t me, it was my past, and other lies I told myself.
At the community center, the workers arrived to set up for their day, readying for the kids who would ransack the place with all their joy and color. I was jealous that they could come in here and just paint, watch movies, and listen to music, all with mandated fun lunches and snack times.
Missy approached me as I stapled upcoming plans within the center to the notice board. “You’ve got to tell me whereyour friend’s bakery is,” she said. “I was looking all over, and I couldn’t find them.”
“It’s not open yet, but it should be before you leave. Hearthstone, it’s called, and they’re amazing. If you want, I could see if he’d bring some more over for lunch.” I’d jump on the opportunity to get to speak to him again, especially with work being neutral ground.
“Might not work today. I don’t want to get into trouble with the parents for giving their kids too much sugar,” she said, shooting my dreams right out of the sky. “But sometime during the week should be fine. You know, as a special treat.”
That’s exactly what Henry was, a special treat, and I should’ve been more like her, not wanting to indulge more than my body could handle. Yet I knew my body well, and it could definitely handle a little more time with Henry.
It turned out, I didn’t have to wait long. On my walk to the library, Henry texted my phone.
Henry: I’ve just made some pies, and I’d love you to come and taste them. It doesn’t have to be right now, whenever you’re free. I’ll be in the bakery all day, just come on in, the door’s always open for you.
I could’ve squealed right out of my body. The door was always open forme. He was probably just being nice, and a friend. I had to get to work, but the temptation to go experience these pies had me wanting to show up late. Except I didn’t. I’d never miss work, even for a hot man who could bake.
Work at the library passed slowly, with my stomach suddenly being my main antagonist, practically creating evil schemes to get me out of work so I could fill it with Henry’s delicious pies—and definitely get filled up with his filling.
It was like everyone else vanished from my world when I was thinking about someone, especially when it excited my inner little, and being around him did that. There was somethingabout him, and I knew he’d take care of me in the way a Daddy would. Call it little’s intuition.
After work, I went straight to the bakery. Nobody could distract me from where I was about to go and what I was about to do. I was a little on a mission, thumbing my Sublime teddy attached to the keyring, stroking its furry belly to self-soothe and comfort myself because this was just pie tasting.
Pausing at the door, behind the newspapers on the glass I could see the bright white of a light on inside. I knew I couldn’t just go barging in; I had to approach the door with a soft push, maybe even a knock.
And as I went to push-knock the door, it swung open, and my fist went right into his crotch.
“Oh god.” Henry keeled inward slightly, both of his hands flinching to cover himself. “You have—good aim.” He laughed it off through the pain.
I just stood there, my eyes widening and my body freezing, my hand still clenched into a fist. I couldn’t believe I’d just done that to him. My knuckles—while not really full of nerves—had definitely touched something big. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I was about to come in.”
“It’s fine. I’ll wear a cup next time.”
He was taking it well for a guy who’d just been bunched in the... whatever it was I’d touched, and now my mind was occupied with trying not to be a pervert, thinking about what it was I’d made contact with.
“Come in,” he said, straightening up. “What do you think?”
The bakery looked a whole lot nicer. The paint really did a good job at making it look new, and my brain tried desperately to recall how it had looked before it closed, like when I was a kid coming here over summer.
“It’s nice. I can barely smell the paint,” I said, almost biting my tongue for saying something so weird. Of course I wouldn’t be able to smell it. It was done yesterday.
“That might be the pies,” he said. “Without the aircon in here, I’m relying on open windows to air the place out. But you wanna come back into the kitchen? I’ve portioned up a couple of pie trays for people around town.”
As we went back into the kitchen, I apologized for the crotch punch again, and he told me it didn’t hurt that bad with one of those wry smiles that said, “but if it happened again, I’d scream.”
I hadn’t really noticed the kitchen yesterday; it was very metal-chrome and modern. “Is this all new?”
He nodded. “First thing I did when I got here,” he said. “The place had nearly everything ripped out of it. Think there must’ve been squatters in here for a time too.”
That must’ve been before the emergency housing was approved by Oliver. I’d almost been in there for a time when I was between jobs. “Where are the pies?” I asked, distracting myself from spiraling in thoughts of my past.
“Oh, they’re under the trays. I put pie trays on top of them. I saw a fly earlier and I’m not risking it,” he said with a shudder. “I don’t think I’ve got a fly problem, just to be clear. It was just one fly, and it’s probably already left.”
