His Accidental Daddy

by Luna, David

He gathered Asher into him, the boy’s arms still holding onto the book, and rubbed his hands up and down Asher’s back, soothing him. Not sure he understood, he asked, “It feels like the home you used to have?”

  Asher let out a huff. “No. God. My home never felt…” He pulled back a bit and glanced around the room. Thornton sensed he wanted to touch and explore, so he let his inquisitive boy go. “It never felt anything like this.”

  Asher placed the book back where he’d gotten it and walked slowly around the room, touching the animals in the toy chest of plushies, tapping on the keys of a piano keyboard, and finally trailing his finger up the side of the crane lamp. Its cab was lit, and the hanging wrecking ball was a lightbulb. He turned towards Thornton again, a look of wonder in his eyes.

  “Thornton, this is… Wow. I don’t think I truly understood what you meant by age regression until I saw this room. Reading everything online helped me understand the concept of it, in a big-picture sort of way. It helped me see what it’s like for the littles I read about. But it was nothing compared to this. Seeing it firsthand, finally understanding what it could be like for me? It’s completely different. This is tangible. This is amazing. And if I’m being honest, a little overwhelming.”

  Thornton’s heart sank at that admission. “I’m sorry you’re so overwhelmed.”

  Asher’s head shook, and he made his way back to Thornton, placing a hand on his chest. “God, no. Don’t be sorry. It’s a lot, Thorn.” He chuckled and looked around. “I mean, it’s a lot… but it’s… I don’t know how to describe it except to say I walked in the door, and my cares, my worries, the stress I feel as a low-level hum in the background of my every day—it slipped away. I felt carefree and excited to discover everything that made up this space. I said it before, but it truly was like coming home, a home I’ve never had before, but, maybe, the home I’d always dreamed of having.”

  Thornton’s eyes got misty at that, and he felt so many things, the biggest of which was mesmerized, truly entranced by this special boy he’d somehow been lucky enough to find, albeit in a rather unorthodox way. Regardless, by some stroke of luck Asher had come into his life, and he couldn’t imagine ever wanting to let him go. His voice was rough with emotion when he said, “I’m so glad you feel at home here. That means more to me than you’ll ever know, baby.”

  He gathered Asher into his embrace and held him in his arms, loving the feeling of it and needing the simple comfort. When Asher gazed up at him and touched his cheek, Thornton’s heart melted. “Daddy, you’ve given me a gift. A gift I didn’t even know I should have asked for. One I wouldn’t have ever known I could have. Thank you.”

  A tear escaped down Thornton’s cheek as he leaned down to kiss his beautiful boy. Asher’s lips were soft and warm, and when Thornton pulled back, those lips kissed his tear away. He couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to, didn’t know what else he could possibly say to make this moment better, so he didn’t say anything at all.

  They smiled at each other, and he watched as Asher moved around the room, continuing to explore. Fingers grabbed a rubber sensory ball and touched the points of a castle’s turrets. And then he bent down and pulled a bin halfway out of one of the cube shelving units and peered inside.

  Thornton knew the bin contained wooden trains and train tracks, and Asher looked back at him again, as if seeking approval. Thornton smiled and nodded, wondering what Asher would do. “Do you like trains?”

  Asher nodded and pulled out a couple of wooden trains and just looked at them, turning them over in his palm. “I used to play with trains when I was little. I had a small set like one my dad had that I used until it fell apart. When it finally broke, they wouldn’t get me a new one because they said I was too old to play with trains anymore. I always wanted to play with my dad’s, but it was a really nice, old, Lionel train set, and he always said I’d break it.”

  Thornton’s heart went out to Asher. “What ever happened to it?”

  Asher shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “I have it. It’s in a box in my storage closet.”

  Thornton’s shoulders slumped, knowing Asher hadn’t ever felt comfortable playing with it on his own. Whether because he still didn’t feel like he was “allowed” to or whether he just felt like he shouldn’t be playing with toys, Thornton didn’t know. Either way, he’d be doing his best to change both of those feelings. “Maybe you should play with it sometime. It’s yours now.”

  Asher looked around the room as if still taking it all in. “I just…” He shrugged. “I felt silly.”

  “Why?”

  “I guess because trains are toys, and toys are for kids, and… I’m no longer a kid.”

  “But you can be, if you want to. I can feel the yearning in you to let go and be that carefree child again. Your childhood was stolen from you, in a way. You may have gone through it, but you never felt safe to live it. I don’t even know how early it all started for you.”

  Thornton pulled Asher into him again, felt the boy stiffen in his arms. “Birth.”

  Horrified, he leaned back to look in Asher’s eyes. “What do you mean?”

  Asher brought his hand between them and touched his heart and the scar that bisected his pecs. “My arrhythmia is from Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. I had open heart surgery when I was a baby.”

  Thornton closed his eyes and drew Asher back into his chest. “Goddammit, Asher. I’m… Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

  He felt Asher shrug in his arms, as if having a heart condition as a result of his mother’s negligence was commonplace. Leading Asher over to the soft, leather, upholstered chair, he moved the ottoman aside and sat, pulling Asher into his lap.

  The boy laid his head against Thornton’s shoulder and sighed. “I think it scared the shit out of them both, because I had to have surgery so quickly after I was born. They must have realized what they’d done to me. Nothing like the possibility of your baby dying to sober you right up. They went to rehab, and for the first five years of my life, off and on, they were sober. My grandmother was still alive then. She watched me while they were getting their shit together. She died when I turned eight but was a fairly steady presence in my life until then.”

  “It sounds like she was there when you needed someone to rely on most.”

  Asher’s voice was quiet in the stillness of the room. “She was. I loved her.”

  “I’m so glad you had her.”

  They sat there, Asher snuggled in his lap, and his world felt right. He rubbed Asher’s back, and they were quiet for a while. But when Asher’s stomach started protesting, Thornton helped Asher stand. “Your stomach sounds angry at me.”

  Asher’s giggle went a long way towards settling them both. “I think it is. You’re obviously not feeding your boy enough.”

  Your boy.

  He’d never ever get tired of hearing Asher call himself that. “Obviously. Why don’t you explore the room? There’s lots of train track. Some trains are wooden, but there are other trains that are battery-operated. Not to mention a ton of other things you may love.”

  Asher bit his lip and gazed at the room around him. “I should fill out my paperwork for medical leave.”

  He rubbed Asher’s arms up and down, clasping his hands in his. “There’s plenty of time for that. I’ll make sure you have time to do it. The last twenty-four hours have been a lot for you, physically and emotionally. I think you could use a little playtime.”

  Asher glanced over at the train bin and then back up at him. “Are you sure?”

  “That’s what they’re here for, baby boy. Have some little time. I’ll make us a quick breakfast, and then when we’re done with that, I’ll come in here with you, and you can show me what you’ve been working on.”

  Asher brought his hands up under his chin as if he was trying to contain himself, and a grin spread over his face. A grin so wide Thornton was sure his cheeks were hurting. He couldn’t help but grin back when faced with all that happiness. “Okay, Daddy.”

  “That�
��s my good boy. I’ll come and get you in a bit.”

  He watched as Asher made his way over to the train bin and chuckled when Asher got down on his knees and gasped as he pulled out another bin that was also full of train paraphernalia. He made a mental note to start looking up the best train sets for kids. He had a feeling he might need to have Damon back to add some more trains to the mural.

  He glanced at the tracks painted there already and frowned. “Asher?”

  Asher turned, a smile on his face and a bunch of wooden track in his hands. “Mmhmm?”

  “Would you like me to have Damon remove the highway and the cars and trucks?” He turned to look again at that part of the mural. “I don’t want it to—”

  Asher was in front of him then, tugging his head down for a series of kisses on his lips before pulling back. “Don’t you dare change a thing. It doesn’t scare me or stress me out. This room, the toys, the books, the mural—it’s all perfect. I feel like the luckiest boy alive.”

  “God, baby, the things you say.”

  Asher’s stomach growled again, and he patted it, looking up at Thornton. “It’s angry, Daddy.”

  Chuckling, he leaned down to peck Asher on his nose and then walked out as he said, “Breakfast for my boy, coming right up.”

  When he was done fixing breakfast, he made his way back to the playroom and found Asher asleep against the life-sized bear sitting in the corner by the cube shelving unit. He glanced at the two bins of train track and saw some track built and other pieces scattered about, with a few trains coupled together on them as if his boy had started to play with them and then given up.

  He realized then and there it was way too early for his boy to be playing with toys on the floor. He’d probably started hurting and had realized the most comfortable spot close by was the enormous panda bear. He knelt beside Asher and ran his hand down the boy’s cheek until his eyes opened. “Hey, sweetheart. It was too much, too fast, wasn’t it?”

  Asher nodded, blinking sleepily up at him. “Hurts.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone in here.”

  Asher smiled. “It’s okay. I’m glad I got to see the room. I’m excited to be able to play when I’m feeling better.”

  “I’m going to pick you up off the floor. I think if I tried to help you stand, it would hurt even more. Keep your hands in your lap, okay?”

  Asher nodded, and then he had the boy in his arms and headed to the kitchen. “I can walk if you put me down.”

  “I know you can, but I’ve got you. I’m feeling a bit guilty. I should have realized how quickly you’d tire out.”

  “I knew you were coming back soon. That’s why I didn’t call out for you. If I’d have been really hurting, I’d have called for you, I promise.”

  “Thank you. That makes me feel better. I don’t want you suffering when I could be helping you.”

  He set the boy down at the kitchen table in the spot he was coming to think of as Asher’s. They both dug into their food, the silence between them comfortable. When they were done, Thornton cleaned up and led Asher to the office, waking his iMac and letting him do what he needed to do in order to get paid while he was out of work with his injury.

  “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

  Asher shook his head. “Please stay. I’ll try to hurry.”

  “Baby, there’s no need to rush. I’ll get some of my own work done while you’re doing that.”

  Asher stood. “If you need the computer, I can probably figure out how to deal with all this on my phone or your iPad.”

  Thornton walked around the desk until he was standing only inches away from Asher. “I’m used to getting work done while I’m mobile. I’m perfectly capable of doing what I need to do on my iPad while you use the computer.”

  Asher nodded and got to work, and Thornton did the same, sending an email to one of his assistants to cancel his face-to-face appointments the following week to allow him to be at home with his boy. He’d either have to make them up when Asher was better able to care for himself and could be left alone or take care of them over the phone.

  That done, he went through several contracts he’d been mulling over, signed them, and sent them back to his lawyer to deal with. By the time he was wrapping up, so was Asher, and the boy looked exhausted. “Why don’t we go watch a movie or some TV, and you can rest?”

  Asher sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’m tired of being tired.”

  “I know. I’m sure it’s frustrating when you’re not used to being so inactive. You can color if you’d prefer, or we can talk if you want. Maybe this afternoon, after you’ve rested a bit, we can take a short walk outside if you’re up to it.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Good.”

  Asher got up, rounded the desk, and held out his hand for Thornton to hold, a vulnerable look clouding his expressive eyes, as if doubting Thornton would take it. Thornton clasped it immediately but turned to face him.

  “Don’t ever be shy or feel worried to reach out to me. Touching and affection isn’t something I’ll ever reject from you. It doesn’t matter when or where we are—I will always welcome it.”

  His sweet boy was starved for human contact, and he craved giving it to Asher so badly he was worried the boy would eventually feel drowned by it. They’d have to see. He settled Asher on the couch, his soft, fleece throw blanket tucked around him. Handing him the remotes, Thornton said, “Find something you want to watch. I’m gonna grab us some drinks. Do you want milk, water, or juice?”

  Asher’s cheeks pinked. “Juice, please, Daddy.”

  “Okay, be right back.” He mentally chastised his dick for being so reactive and headed into the kitchen. He wasn’t going to second-guess himself this time and opened up his drawer full of his little supplies, grabbing a cup with a lid and straw. Grabbing himself some water and filling Asher’s cup with apple juice, he headed back into the family room. He sat in the corner of the couch, where Asher curled into him without any prompting, warming his heart.

  Still flicking through channels, Asher hadn’t paid attention to what he’d brought with him until Thornton handed it over. The TV forgotten, Asher stared at the clear cup with the swirly blue straw that spiraled along the edges of the inside of the cup. They sat in silence for several moments, the TV a low hum in the background, some Shopping Network show Asher had stopped on when Thornton had handed him his drink.

  He waited with bated breath, wondering how Asher would react. His boy turned his gaze to Thornton’s and then back down again and up once more, a small smile morphing into a much bigger one. Thornton smiled back and chuckled when Asher shimmied a bit in his seat and took a sip of his juice, settling back into the crook of Thornton’s arm.

  That sweet bit of enthusiasm for something so simple made Thornton excited to share other things with him as well. He realized he should have served Asher breakfast on one of his fun plastic plates and given him the matching silverware as well. He’d just have to do that at lunch.

  After a bit more flipping, Asher settled on some kind of baking contest. Asher fiddled and looked at the cup more than he did the TV. Thornton knew he had something on his mind and was trying to come up with the words to express it.

  He felt rather than heard Asher’s deep breath and winced when the boy realized it was too deep and rubbed gently at his ribs. “I have plastic and metal insulated cups at home with lids and straws. They aren’t kid’s ones—they’re the adult ones people use for ice water and coffee, you know? But I put stickers on them. I have regular glasses too, but I always end up using the insulated ones with the lids and the straws. I tell myself it’s to keep myself from spilling, but… maybe that’s not the reason?”

  He turned his gaze towards Thornton, confusion marring his brows. Thornton reached to smooth out the wrinkles between his brows. “Maybe it’s not.” Shrugging, he continued. “What other things can you think of that you do or use that might also be used by a little?”

&n
bsp; Asher looked down at his cup again and took a long sip of his juice. “When I’m eating things like yogurt, pudding, or ice cream, I always use these tiny little spoons. I bought some of those plates where kids can paint on them and then you bake them, so you can eat off them. I got them for Gigi, but she gave me one of the ones in her box, and I made one with her.”

  “Do you use it?”

  Asher nodded, still not meeting his eyes. “I got myself a box, and now I have five. I don’t eat off anything else.”

  God, his boy had been a little aching to be let free for probably longer than even Asher would ever know. “What else?”

  Asher shrugged and took another sip. “You’ve seen my train stuffy. I like wearing socks with little pictures on them, and some of my underwear has designs on them too.”

  “I noticed that when I packed for you.”

  More blushing. “Maybe it’s not really a little thing, but I play a lot of kids’ games on my phone, like Bejeweled, Candy Crush, Mario Run, and Bubble Coco. Oh, and I have a nightlight in my room.”

  “And when you use these things, do you feel guilty or silly?”

  “Sometimes, yeah. If I have Madi and Gigi over, I’ll give the plate that I drew with Gigi to her to use, and I’ll use regular stuff for Madi and me. And I always bought adult coloring books only because I didn’t want to think of it as being for little kids. If it was for adults, it was okay, you know?”

  “I do know, but now you don’t have to worry about that anymore. With me, you can get into your little headspace without worry or fear of being caught or judged. You needing to regress isn’t something to be ashamed of. It’s okay to play with trains and stuffies. It’s okay to color with crayons. It’s okay to use whatever dinnerware makes you happy. This isn’t about what you think you should do; this is about what your heart knows you want to do. I hope it’s something you’ll come to embrace in time. Something that feels natural for you.”

  The smile on Asher’s face was tentative. “Yeah, I hope so too. I really can’t wait to use the playroom and—I don’t know—maybe I can get myself some of the coloring books I’ve wanted to buy but wouldn’t allow myself to.”