“I lost track of time,” Bowie explained nervously. Could he talk about his worries to Ziggy? He was a brilliant listener, all his friends said so, and he had offered before.
“That, I can understand. She’s a sweetheart,” he cooed, stroking a finger over her head, looking at Bowie. “But by the way you were looking when I came in, I’d say it wasn’t because of Emmy. Anything I can help with?”
“You know, when we went to the lake…” Bowie still recalled how he’d nearly slipped up and mentioned he had a Daddy. It was that which made him realize this was how he now thought of Kari. A gradual shift in his mind, something that he didn’t even think about, because it just was.
“Where I ended up baring my backside to all and sundry? Yes.” Ziggy settled himself against Bowie’s office desk, grinning and folding his arms, looking relaxed.
Bowie was embarrassed on Ziggy’s behalf because that’s exactly what he’d done when he’d shifted to chase the man—Booker’s biological dad—who had threatened and hurt Frey. Bowie had been a mess when all he could think about was how much it must have hurt Frey, when he could still recall the attack on himself.
“You saved Frey from more violence. Saved Emmy.” Kari had held him all evening, kissing and rocking him till he’d fallenasleep, exhausted after the stress of it all. Bowie worried about Emmy the most, and though only a baby, she had witnessed the violence. That couldn’t be good.
“We all did. You took care of Emmy. Is that what’s bothering you?”
“Yes… no… it’s about…” Bowie couldn’t fidget with Emmy still sleeping in his arms. He sighed quietly, giving Ziggy a beseeching look.
“I’ve a boyfriend… a daddy,” he blurted out, then froze, wide eyed.
“How wonderful. I’ve a friend in that type of relationship. Me, I’m too dominant, but he just comes alive when his daddy is around.”
It helped that Ziggy didn’t ask any questions about who it was and didn’t seem at all thrown by his confession. “I can understand that. Mine makes everything brighter.”
“I can see that. You look so happy. So, what’s the issue?”
He fidgeted, dropping his gaze to Emmy. “We… haven’t… you know… slept… no, that’s not right. We’ve slept together, we haven't…”
“Had sex?” asked Ziggy softly.
“Yeah.” He glanced up and away and then back at Ziggy. “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”
“No, there’s nothing wrong with you.”
The confidence in the reply gave Bowie the courage to continue. “We’ve kissed, you know, when I’m Little, and when I’m…” he wasn’t sure saying grown up was the right way to put it so he just said, “big, but he’s not doing anything else.”
“Erm. Is he a man who likes you to talk about your needs?” Bowie nodded, blushing furiously. “I suspect he’s waiting for a sign from you, Bowie,” Ziggy said with confidence.
He sagged and huffed noisily. “I thought the same.”
“Is it that hard to ask for what you want? How have you done it before?” Ziggy’s gaze never wavered.
“I… no… haven’t.” Bowie hid by shifting Emmy onto his shoulder when she stirred in his arms and whimpered.
“Oh… does he know that?”
Bowie shook his head, his bangs falling into his eyes. “I don’t know how to talk about it. And my heat is next week.”
“How would you normally deal with it?”
To say aloud that he just ignored it, did that make him odd?
Ziggy laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Bowie, however you deal with it, I will never judge you.”
He believed him, so he took a deep breath and released it. “I don’t deal with it. I hide in my bathroom and wait for the feelings to go away.”
He didn’t miss the shock or sympathy before Ziggy gave him a half hug, careful not to squish Emmy. “That must be very hard for you.”
Again, no questions that would have him trying to explain things he didn’t really want to. Silence fell between them as he nodded.
Emmy squirmed in Bowie’s arms before an awful smell met his nose. “Oh dear.”
