Edwin
I’d never gone out with a group of littles on a non-little event before. At least not on this scale. I’d played with littles at clubs, but a group of people just going out and having big fun together? This was a first. And when Chris and Monroe invited me, how could I not accept? They even found the epitome of all locations, a bowling alley with karaoke and an arcade. We could earn tickets for prizes, bowl, eat greasy food, and sing our hearts out all in the same place. And best of all, it was just littles.
I didn’t know everybody who was coming. I knew Chris and Monroe, yes, but Colter, Tristan, Bellamy, Boston, and Dallas? They were friends from the Little House whom I’d heard stories about but hadn’t yet met. But I was ready.
All of their daddies—those who had daddies—were going to be hanging out across the street. In most situations, that would’ve felt really creepy and controlling. But with them being their daddies, it felt safe and protective, and I was a little jealous. I had no one over there waiting for me.
What Chris had forgotten to mention, or maybe not so much forgotten as intentionally left out, was the fact that Brax was coming too. And that was probably for the best. I spent enough time picking out which jeans and shirt I was going to wear without bringing thoughts of him into the equation.
I hadn’t wanted to look like I was going to the office, but I also didn’t want to look like I was going fishing. I had some playful shirts, but finding one playful enough to go hang out with friends, but not so eye-drawing that it might attract unwanted attention…that was more difficult. I ended up with a shorter T-shirt, not quite a crop top, that had a teddy bear on it. It wasn’t alittleshirt. It was from a far-too-expensive luxury brand that was recognizable. When I spotted it in the store, I just had to have it.
People looking at it would assume, if anything, that I was a snob, not that I like to crawl around in onesies playing with cars. I wouldn’t make that same purchase now, not with my current salary and situation. But once upon a time, I had disposable income, and dispose of it I did.
We started the night with bowling. It was the best. But me? I was the worst. Even with the bumpers up, my score was less than fifty. I could blame it on being distracted by Brax, which I definitely was, but I’m not a good bowler any day of the week. At most, that distraction cost me three or four pins.
I should’ve spent the night getting to know all the littles, making some solid friends, but I found myself too focused on Brax and then focused on the guilt about being focused on Brax, only then to be focused on Brax again. But I was also having fun, more fun than I’d had in longer than I could remember. And that was before the drinks came out and we hit the arcade.
Normally, I liked to do the games where you won tickets and tried to get cool prizes, but we spent most of our time and money on the dancing games, having dance-offs until we were sweating and out of breath.
“Edwin, you are the victor!” Brax raised my hand like they did in sporting events when someone is announced the winner of a match.
“Well, thank you,” I said. “I owe it all to…luck.”
Everyone giggled. It wasn’t that funny, but we were all getting tipsy.
“The karaoke room is going to be open in five minutes,” Monroe said. “We should be there when it does.”
The problem with a group of littles is that we don’t have a daddy type to keep us in check. If it weren’t for Monroe getting the text about the room, we’d have missed it altogether.
I was not a huge lover of all things karaoke. My experience had always been in open-mic type situations where anybody could get up and everybody had to listen. Here, they had room rentals. Inside, not only could you sing karaoke, but the drinks flowed and the appetizers were plentiful, as long as you kept the dollars flowing. If anything, having the private space would be good for talking.
“Whoa,” I said as I walked in, shocked by how nice it was. “I feel like I’m in one of those VIP clubs that you see in the movies.”
Bellamy nodded. “Yeah. Only I don’t think there’s any Mafia here.”
I don’t know what movies he was watching, but they weren’t the same as mine.
That got us talking about different mob movies, though, what we liked or didn’t like about them. The server came in, explained how everything worked, and dropped off some pitchers of beer, popcorn, and a list of instructions for how to set up the karaoke.
To my surprise, it was ridiculously fun. We started with all of us singing “We Will Rock You” together, because what karaoke night is complete without some foot-stomping and hand-clapping? Then we moved on to duets and solos. For some reason, it hadn’t clicked until the singing started that some of these littles were couples. Or rather throuples with their daddy across the street. In fact, the only little there who had a daddy by themselves was Brax.
Were triads more common than I realized, or was it this group of friends?
I don’t know if the drink was doing the talking or what, but I asked Colter, “Do you like sharing your daddy?”
“He’s not my daddy, he’s our daddy.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “And I absolutely love it. Ten out of tenrecommend,” he slurred. I wasn’t the only one drinking too much.
“Who’s up next?” someone asked.
Boston raised his hand. “Me!”
He got up there and sang the absolute worst rendition of “I Will Always Love You,” and it was fabulous. I wasn’t sure the night could get any better than this.
“Wanna sing with me?” Brax whisper-shouted in my ear. “We could do something silly, or something fun, or something silly fun.”
“Hmm…we could do ‘The Chicken Dance.’”
“Yes!” He did a fist bump, and soon enough, it was our turn.
