I will keep my distance for now. For his safety.
But the pull grows stronger every day, and I am not sure how much longer I can resist claiming what—andwho— I already feel belongs to me.
* * *
The decision weighs on me the entire drive over. I sit in the back of the SUV with Bobby beside me, staring out at the passing city streets while my mind turns over the conversation with Ivan.
I planned to keep my distance. To protect Teddy from the storm that is gathering around the family. Yet here I am, pulling up outside his modest apartment building with my nephew in tow. The building is nothing like the old-money elegance of my new place or the fortified compound.
Bobby fidgets in his seat, looking unusually subdued. “I know I messed up, Uncle Kirill. I should have texted or something.”
I give him a short nod. “Fix it. He is doing you a favor. Do not make him regret it.”
We step out together. I let Bobby lead the way up the narrow stairs to Teddy’s door. When he knocks, I stand slightly behind him, hands clasped behind my back, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickens at the thought of seeing Teddy again.
The door opens and Teddy appears, wearing comfortable lounge clothes—soft leggings and an oversized sweater that slips off one shoulder. His hair is slightly damp, and his eyes widen the moment he sees both of us standing there.
“Kirill…Bobby?” Teddy blinks, clearly taken aback. His gaze darts between us, surprise mixing with something warmer when it lands on me. “I wasn’t expecting… well, anyone right now.”
Bobby steps forward first, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I’m really sorry about missing the gym this morning, Teddy. It was my fault. I overslept and then my phone died. It won’thappen again. IpromiseI’ll be on time from here on out. You’ve been so good about training me even when it messes up your schedule.”
Teddy’s expression softens instantly. That eternal optimist side of him shines through as he offers Bobby a gentle smile. “Hey, it’s okay. Apology accepted. Life happens. Just… try to let me know next time so I’m not waiting around wondering. We’re good.”
Bobby visibly relaxes, nodding quickly. “Thank you. I’ll see you at the next session. I’ll be early.” He glances at me, then back at Teddy. “I’ll wait downstairs in the car so you two can talk.”
Before Teddy can protest, Bobby slips past us and heads down the stairs with surprising speed. The door closes behind him, leaving Teddy and me standing alone in the small entryway of his apartment.
He shifts nervously, unable to stand still. “Um… do you want to come in? It’s kind of messy, but…”
I nod once. “Thank you.”
The apartment is small but warm. Bright colors on the walls, a cozy couch, and the faint smell of something sweet—maybe vanilla from a candle. My eyes scan the space out of habit, assessing exits and sightlines, but they stop when I notice the living room area. Scattered nearby are a few toys—colorful building blocks, a small tea set, and what looks like dress-up accessories half-hidden under a blanket. A rabbit stuffie too.
The evidence is unmistakable.
Teddy is a Little.
The confirmation hits me like a quiet thunderclap. It aligns perfectly with everything I have sensed in him—the playful optimism, the way he blushes and squirms under my authority, the spark of submission beneath his sass. Seeing the physical proof in his safe space makes the pull even stronger. My Daddy instincts stir, wanting to step in, to guide, to protect, to correct when needed.
Teddy catches me looking and his cheeks flush pink. He quickly moves to tidy a few things, but it is too late. I have seen.
We sit down at his small kitchen table. The space feels intimate, almost too intimate for a man like me. My knees brush the underside of the table. Teddy fidgets with the edge of a coaster, clearly nervous but trying to hide it behind that bright smile of his.
“So… I’m performing in an improv group this evening,” Teddy says, his voice gaining a touch of excitement despite the nerves. “It’s at a little theater downtown. Nothing fancy, just some scenes and audience suggestions. If you… wanted to come and watch, that would be really nice. No pressure or anything.”
I study Teddy’s face.
Those hopeful eyes, the slight bite of his lower lip as he waits for my answer. I came here intending to create distance. To tell him that with the threats mounting—the cartel, possible betrayal inside the family—I cannot risk pulling him any deeper into my world. The words are already forming on my tongue:It is better if we keep things professional from now on…
But the look of quiet hope on his face stops me cold. He is offering me a piece of his world, the acting dreams he spokeabout so passionately over coffee. Turning him down now would dim that light, and I find I cannot bring myself to do it.
“I will come,” I say instead, my voice steady but softer than usual. “What time?”
His whole face lights up. The smile that breaks across it is genuine and radiant. “Seven thirty. The theater is called The Spotlight on 14th. It’s small, so you won’t miss it.”
We sit there for a moment, the air between us thickening. My hand rests on the table near his. Without thinking, I reach across and brush my fingers lightly over the back of his hand. The contact is brief, but the sparks that fly from that simple touch are undeniable—electric, warm, charged with everything we are both trying not to name.
Teddy’s breath catches. His eyes meet mine, wide and vulnerable.
