He shrugs. I only see it because I glance over at him before the line of cars starts moving. Grill and Bar is only a few minutes down the road. I sigh and focus on driving.
We sit in silence until I pull into the parking lot and find a space. It's Monday, so it doesn't seem too busy. Tyler undoes his seatbelt, but doesn't reach for the handle. I follow his lead.
"I don't want you to see me as a sick person," Tyler finally says. He doesn't look at me as he says it. "I feel like everything you ask me or text revolves around my diagnosis."
I open my mouth to say something, but I realize that he's mostly right. Completely right, actually. I thought I was just checking on him, but I didn't think about how it seemed on his end. Being worried doesn't mean I have to constantly keep checking on him. It's kind of how I am, though. I worry about the people I care for. It's kind of my baseline.
"I'm sorry," I say honestly. "I don't see you as a sick person, though, Ty. I just want to make sure you're sticking to the plan."
"And I am." He turns to face me. "I've read the information I was given and I've done my own research. And sometimes, I just feel a bit cold."
"Okay." I nod. His tone isn't rude or anything, but definitely doesn't leave room for misinterpretation. "I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was overbearing."
"I get that you're worried," he says. "I just don't want to feel… broken around you."
Something tugs in my heart at that word. "Ty, you are far from broken. I am truly sorry if I've made you feel like that. I can stop asking you about it or bringing it up."
"I know you mean well," Ty says. "Just maybe not every single time we hang out?"
"You got it," I say. I make a cross over my heart dramatically. I'm a natural worrier, with my job and just in general. I spend ten to twelve hours a day making sure that people are stable and taken care of. I backtrack what I said. "I'll work on it. I might slip up, but I'll do my best."
"That's all I ask," Tyler says. Then he smiles and my shoulders relax. "Now, let's get inside so you can buy me food."
"Oh, I see how it is." I was already planning to pay, of course, but him mentioning it with that playfully snarky tone? I have half a mind to tell him we’re splitting the bill.
We are seated right away in a corner booth, one I requested since it's secluded. There are only a handful of people in the entire restaurant and I don't predict many more people showing up. Maybe we'll be able to talk. The waiter takes our order and walks away.
"So." I get Tyler's attention with that one word. He tilts his head just slightly. It's adorable. "Can I ask you some more questions about this whole Daddy thing?"
Tyler's cheeks turn a bright red almost instantly. It makes my chest squeeze at how adorable it is. He looks around and finally relaxes when he realizes no one is around us to hear. We're not talking loud. "Sure."
"I've done some of my own research, but I know that it's different with each person. I'd like to know why you like it.”
"I like it because I can get away from my issues for a while. Medical, family, financial, you name it. Being Little is freeing and it helps me relax."
"And how Little do you go?" I read different accounts of those that go younger and those that regress to more of a video games instead of blocks age. I know he touched on it last time we hung out, but I want some more information.
"I like toys. Stuffies, building blocks, and such. I'm not into diapers like my friends, though. I do have a couple pairs of training pants hidden away."
I nod, taking that information and storing it. That was information he shared on Thursday, but the training pants are new. "I read something about scenes versus a lifestyle. Are you one or the other?"
Tyler tilts his head side to side, like he's thinking of the correct answer. "I don't know. I mean, I didn't exactly have a place where I could do more than a scene. When I stayed with Mark, it was only overnight or other times, I'd tag along with a friend for a few hours."
"Would you want it to be a lifestyle thing?" I ask. I feel like I already know the answer to that. Tyler doesn't answer, though, and just shrugs. I take that as an answer enough for now. "Would you, maybe, want to try a scene with me?"
Tyler was already looking at me so I can see the switch from general conversation to surprise. His eyebrows raise in unison and I swear his pupils get a smidge bigger. His lips part slightly, like he's stunned and doesn't know what to say.
"We don't have to," I backtrack. "I just thought, maybe, if you wanted to. Nothing big."
"I mean, would you be ready for that? You haven't exactly had a lot of time to wrap your head around it."
"I've read a good bit and it's definitely something I would like to try. I think we can start with something small. If you want to stay at my place again or just for a few hours, we can try it and see how we work together."
"If you're okay with it," Tyler says. He sounds like he still doesn't believe I'm going to enjoy being a Daddy. Maybe I won't, but the idea of taking care of him in any capacity has me scrolling all forms of social media, and maybe a few videos under a Private tab, most nights since he brought it up. "I have to work tomorrow, though, so I can't stay up too late."
"Does that mean you want to stay over again?" I'm getting my hopes up, but there's excitement buzzing through my veins now that we're going to do this.
"If you're okay—"
