by Maren Smith
Ryder followed me to the kitchen and perched himself on a bar stool at the island as I got ingredients out. I watched him as I thought about how the night would be different if he was little. Would Ryder sit at the island and talk to me? Would he want to stay in the living room and play with toys? What kind of toys would he like?
I bumped a drawer shut with my hip, and I felt his pacifier dig into my leg. I’d been with Ryder for ten years and, save for the night I proposed, I had never felt so unsure of what I was about to do. My hand slipped into my pocket and I gripped his pacifier before I pulled it out and placed it on the counter in front of him.
Ryder’s eyes went so wide I saw the flakes of hazel-gold I could normally only see in bright sunlight. “It’s okay, Ry. If you want it—whenever—you should have it.”
“I don’t need it,” he told the counter.
I shrugged as I turned around to grab buttermilk out of the fridge. “Never said you did.”
His pinkie ran over the scratched plastic and almost-missing wolf logo as he thought. “You don’t hate it?”
Hate? No. There were a lot of things I thought about that pacifier, but hate wasn’t one of them. I didn’t think he was ready to hear that I’d fallen a little more in love with him as I lay in our bed listening to the little sucking sounds he’d made as he’d slept. Or that he’d looked so sad as he left our room, I would have given him anything in the world to make him happy again. And since he wasn’t ready to hear those things, he probably wasn’t ready to know I’d ordered new pacifiers for him so he’d never had to be without one.
Instead of overwhelming him with my thoughts, I shook my head. “Nah. If you like it, that’s all that matters. You can have it whenever you want it.” It would be difficult to explain to the team if he wanted it outside of the house, but for him, I’d do it.
Our conversation died down, and I focused my attention on the pancake batter. Once the griddle was hot and I had the first pancakes cooking, I turned to ask Ryder a question but forgot what it was when I saw the pacifier between his lips as he scrolled through his phone.
Uncertainty creased his forehead, but his body was calm. His shoulders were relaxed, his eyes were heavy, and his breathing was slow. I felt oddly protective of Ryder, like his happiness fell on my shoulders. Finishing dinner took twice as long as it should have with me spending more time focused on Ryder than our dinner. Though when I slipped the plate of pancakes over to him, the smile he gave me was genuine, and I was pretty sure he bounced a bit.
He placed his pacifier beside him as I pulled up a seat on the other side of the island. I watched as Ryder cut each pancake into bite-sized pieces, then carefully dunked each bite into the maple syrup he’d poured in the corner of his plate, away from the rest of the pancakes.
He’d always done that, but I’d never thought anything of it. At least not until now. Now, things were falling into place, but I didn’t know what it all meant. How did I ask my husband if he was a little? Would it offend him? Would it upset him? I had no idea, and I hated uncertainty.
Chapter Four
Ryder
I’d eaten half of my first pancake when I felt Malcolm staring at me. I glanced up to see him not looking at me, but at my plate. “What?”
He blinked at me as a smile spread across his face. It was like he’d just figured something , but I couldn’t guess out what. “You don’t like your syrup to touch your pancakes, do you?”
I shook my head. “Nope.” I never had.
“But you dip each bite into the syrup,” he countered.
“Yes, but I control how much syrup goes onto each bite this way.”
Malcolm ate two more bites of his own pancake. “Would you prefer a divided plate for when we have pancakes and syrup?”
And other things. I hated when my food touched, especially pancakes. “Do we have one?”
He shook his head and looked frustrated with himself. “No, but I could get one.”
“No need to go out of your way.” I dunked another bite of pancake into the syrup. As I brought the bite to my mouth, I thought about the plate. It sounded like a good idea, but it was really unnecessary.
Malcolm gave me a soft smile. It was the type of smile he gave me when I was sick, but I’d gotten it a number of times that evening. When he turned back to his plate, the crease between his brows told me he was trying to work something out. About me? About work? I had no idea. I’d ask after I finished my pancakes.
Malcolm got up and dropped his plate into the sink while I ate the last four squares of my pancakes. He kept himself busy at the sink, his back to me, until the last bite of pancake was in my mouth and I’d set my fork down on the plate. Malcolm slid the plate away from me and deposited it in the sink with his. Before I had even swallowed, Malcolm was standing next to me, wiping my face with a warm washcloth. I was too shocked to argue about it, so I sat still while he finished with my face and turned his attention to my hands. Had they even been sticky?
Malcolm hadn’t said anything while he’d washed my hands and face, and it felt nice. Something slotted into place and muscles I hadn’t known were tense relaxed. A warm finger stroked down my cheek. “Come on, Ryder. You look exhausted. Let’s get you ready for bed.” He held out his hand, and I took it.
As we stepped around the counter, Malcolm stopped and picked up my pacifier. I wasn’t going to blush. I wasn’t going to blush. Fuck it, I was blushing. “I don’t know why you keep acting like you’ve never seen it before.”
It was going to take me a while to believe that he didn’t mind me having it. I’d spent the last nine years hiding it in some form or another, and I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he didn’t care. It was a pacifier. I was twenty-nine. Yet I’d sat at the counter while Malcolm made dinner and sucked happily on it. Of course, I hadn’t sucked hard, it was more to just have it in my mouth.
Malcolm led me up the steps—unaware of my internal turmoil—and right toward our room. “Ry, do I need to do it for you?”
“Do what?”
“Brush your teeth.”
My nose turned up, and I squinted my eyes. “Why would you need to brush my teeth for me?”
He shook his head. “I told you to go brush your teeth twice now, but you just stood there staring into space.”
Wow, I must have been really lost in thought if I’d missed him telling me to brush my teeth. “Sorry.”
I stripped out of my sweatpants and tossed them into the laundry, then went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. The entire process couldn’t have taken me more than five or six minutes, but by the time I made it back to the bedroom, Malcolm had pulled the blankets down on my side of the bed. Between practice, Malcolm finding out about my pacifier, the conversation we’d had, and my thoughts about how he really felt, I was exhausted. The bed practically screamed my name, and I headed over, fully intent on collapsing and not moving until my alarm went off the next morning.
“In,” was all Malcolm said before I landed face-first on my pillow. His warm chuckle made me roll over to see what was so funny. I saw happiness in his eyes as he untangled the blankets from below my legs. “I guess I asked for that.” The covers got untangled and he pulled them up around me before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Sleep well, Ry. I’ll be up in a bit. I need to get myself ready. Love you.”
“Night, love you too.” My eyes began to droop closed, and I felt the soft silicone nipple of my pacifier brush my lips. My mouth opened automatically, embarrassment be damned. I would work out my feelings later, for now, I would sleep soundly.
There were a few problems with Malcolm knowing I had a pacifier. He’d accepted it, so that wasn’t the issue, but since he’d found out about it, he’d been making sure I had it when we were falling asleep. Even if I didn’t get it before bed, he’d find it in my nightstand and slip it into my mouth. The other problem was that I had no desire to spit it out. That wasn’t really a problem exactly, except the more use it got, the bigger the st
ress lines became. By the day of our last preseason game, I was starting to worry it wouldn’t survive.
I’d been ignoring the little lines for two years, but I’d also hardly used it during that time, so it hadn’t been a problem. In the two short weeks since Malcolm had found out about the pacifier, the lines had begun to grow considerably, so I wasn’t that surprised when I woke up from a midday nap to find my pacifier had collapsed due to a large crack in the silicone. I was surprised by how sad I felt.. I’d known it was coming, and I thought I’d been prepared for it, but faced with losing the pacifier, I had to accept I wasn’t ready to let it go.
Malcolm’s voice from the doorway caused me to jump. He was standing just inside the door holding a small box and the way his brows were turned downward, I knew he was nervous. “What’s wrong, babe?”
Did I tell him or not? He’d been so understanding about the whole thing, but getting emotional over a broken pacifier at twenty-nine might take it too far. I closed my hand around the pacifier while I debated. Malcolm didn’t give me a chance to decide because he was by my side in seconds, gently prying my fingers open so he could see what I was holding. I didn’t even know how he knew it was there.
“Oh, I see,” he said when he saw the crack in the silicone. “I think I have something that will help.”
There was something calming in the way he spoke, and I found myself hoping he had a solution. As he took a seat on the bed, he patted the spot between his legs and I complied without thought, crawling over and settling with my back pressed against his solid front. He hadn’t played professional football for the past four years, but he’d maintained his athletic physique and still trained with me and the team. He might not have been able to run on a field, but his injury didn’t stop him in the gym. So when he wrapped his arms around my body, pulling me even closer with one hand on my chest, I melted. Malcolm placed a gentle kiss on my temple before he handed me the box he’d been holding. “I ordered something for you. It just came. I was coming upstairs to give it to you and seems like it was perfect timing.”
Now I was curious. What had Malcolm gotten me? The shipping label didn’t tell me much, so I picked at the edge of the packing tape and peeled it back. Inside were two new pacifiers in small bags. They looked similar to my current one, but the logos were fully intact, and the nipples were larger, like they were made for an adult mouth.
“You got me new pacifiers?” I winced as soon as the question came out of my mouth. Clearly he’d bought me new pacifiers. Reaching into the box, I pulled a bag out and turned it over in my hand, allowing the pacifier to fall out.
Malcolm’s finger trailed down the side of my face. “I knew this one was falling apart.”
I rubbed the mouth guard and the wolf logo. He’d tried so hard to get me a pacifier that looked like my old one, but they weren’t the same. I felt even worse as I looked down at the item in my hand. I wanted my pacifier. If this was how kids felt when their parents took their pacifiers away, I felt bad for them. I was nearly thirty and struggling to not break down.
Malcolm’s arms tightened around me. “What’s wrong, Ry?”
Shit, he knew me too well. “Thank you for thinking about me. This is really sweet.”
“But…” he coaxed.
“But you gave me that one ten years ago. It’s been in every dorm room, apartment, and house I’ve lived in since then. It’s mine.”
Malcolm looked between the pacifier on the bed and the one in his hand.
“I’m sorry. It’s really nice. I’m just a little off because I really like that one. I know it’s ridiculous, and I shouldn’t even care.” I let out a laugh that lacked humor. “I shouldn’t even have it in the first place, much less be attached to it.”
Malcolm held a finger over my lips. “Ry. Stop. So you like your pacifier? We can work with that.” He reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a different pacifier altogether. It looked more like my pacifier and the nipple was smaller; definitely not made for an adult. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to have a backup plan? Which do you like more?”
I huffed and told him I liked mine more, but he held up a hand. “I know you like your pacifier, but which one of these feels better in your mouth?” He pushed the smaller one into my mouth. It felt a lot like my pacifier, the nipple barely past my teeth, but it still fit and felt familiar. Before I could get too comfortable, Malcolm pulled it out and replaced it with the bigger one.
It was weird. Not bad weird but weird in that I’d been using my old one for years. I’d gotten used to the smaller nipple in my mouth and this one was bigger and clunkier but not bad. It felt like it would stay in my mouth better. I sucked harder and felt my body relax. It felt secure. I could definitely get used to it. My body began to sag against Malcolm before he chuckled. “Don’t fall back asleep on me. We have to be at the arena in a few hours.” We didn’t, but since Malcolm was a coach, he needed to be there earlier than the players. Since it was pointless to drive two cars, I went with him. “So, which one do you like most?”
I pulled the pacifier out of my mouth. “This one.”
He kissed me again and gave me a push. “Great. I put some lunch on the table for you. Go eat it and I’ll get to work.”
Get to work?
He pushed at my back before I could ask. “Go, Ry. With any luck, I’ll have this done before you’re finished eating.”
I scrunched my nose up. “Let me guess, it’s a Shay meal?”
Malcolm threw his head back, his entire body vibrating with laughter. “It’s game day. Of course it’s a Shay meal. Babe, I barely made it out of her office when she found out you’d had pancakes, Fruit Loops, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches a few weeks ago. She’s not about to risk another day like that. But it smelled pretty good when I warmed it up.”
I sighed and slid out of bed, for the first time in years, I missed my blanket. Nothing felt right. I’d need to push through because we had a game to play. At least I had a backup pacifier. I made it to the door and turned back suddenly. “Mal? Please don’t throw my pacifier away.”
His blue eyes sparkled. “Promise.”
Chapter Five
Malcolm
Usually in the weeks leading up to a new season, I spent hours upon hours watching film. Even at home, I’d watch film from new players, trying to pick out weaknesses and strengths. Oftentimes, Ryder would curl up with me and, if he wasn’t playing a video game or sleeping, he’d watch with me. Over the last two weeks, I’d spent my time on the couch, Ryder curled up against me sleeping or playing a game, but I hadn’t watched any film. I’d been spending my nights researching littles and trying to figure out how to talk to Ryder about it.
The more I read, the more certain I was that Ryder was one. I’d spent days reading about lifestyle dynamics and had even found myself doing research on my phone at work. I’d had to leave the research at home when I’d gotten hard in my sweats reading about a Daddy giving his boy a bath. I could so easily put Ryder in the boy’s position it had been shocking at first. The more I read, the more I thought the role fit him.
Ryder had never had a problem cuddling up with me. He’d choose sugary-sweet cereals and food over anything healthy despite knowing better. The pacifier was just the latest thing, the tipping point, that helped me put it all together. To see what had been in front of me all along. The more I learned about the Daddy/little lifestyle, the more I saw how it could work for us. With that realization, I’d spent the last week more or less feeling Ryder out, trying to gauge how he’d react when I brought it up. It’s how he’d ended up taking a midmorning nap, how he’d been eating vegetables more often, and how I’d come to discover he’d happily watch cartoons all evening long. The night before, I’d found Space Jam on one of the streaming services, and I’d turned it on then conveniently “lost” the remote to see what Ryder would do. Much to my surprise, he’d shrugged, pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, snuggled into my side, and spent the evening lau
ghing at the movie.
What made me laugh every single time was that Ryder didn’t seem to realize he was a little. He’d pouted about taking a nap after practice the last few weeks, but he hadn’t tried hard to get out of taking them. By the time I walked him up the steps he’d be yawning. Ryder would say he didn’t need a nap, yet he followed me to our room, climbed into bed, and let me tuck him in. He’d insist he wasn’t tired through heavy eyes, but he’d tell me goodnight and open his mouth for his pacifier.
Over the last few days, I’d noticed the stress line getting larger and larger on his old pacifier. I’d been anxiously tracking the package with the new ones in it. What I hadn’t expected was how emotional Ryder would get when the original finally broke. The way he’d looked at me had nearly broken my heart. Searching through websites and blog posts, I’d stumbled across a video about how to change out the nipple on a pacifier. So, there I was, in my office, his original pacifier and one of the new adult ones on the desk in front of me as I searched for the instructions. Thankfully, a quick YouTube search was all it took, and I was ready to begin.
Pacifier deconstruction and reconstruction turned out to be stressful. The button, as I’d learned it was called, flew off with such force it hit the window across the room. “Fuck!” I momentarily panicked that I’d broken Ryder’s pacifier for good, but the panic was short-lived when I found the button—intact—on the small table in front of the window.
Ryder’s voice echoed from down the hall. “Everything okay in there?”
