Sawyer & Boyd Duo: MM age-play romance

by JP Sayle

  With my elbows on my knees, I rested my chin on my hands and stared at the land I’d bought two years ago when I’d hit twenty-one and come into my inheritance. It was a good size with plenty of tall trees to shield me from prying eyes.

  The scent of early spring was in the air and the daffodil bulbs I’d planted in the small patch of land I’d dug up in front of the house were starting to show signs of life. February was usually my favourite month of the year, but I couldn’t find any happiness in the new budding life today. I’d thought that I’d be going on a date, but no. Here I was, back home, with only myself for company, yet again.

  I swallowed my sigh and pressed my lips together as I counted how many days it had been since I’d had a message from the last guy I’d been on a date with. Evidently, he wasn’t interested in a second date. Not that the first date had been particularly great. In fact, all the dates I’d been on since I’d signed up to The App had been, in a word, shit.

  I’d had such high hopes, given all the messages I’d received in the beginning. But then I’d gone from one disastrous date to the next. I snorted at the memory of guy number seven, remembering his face when I’d gone and got changed and came back wearing one of my little outfits. His expression had been priceless as he’d taken in my dummy and my snuggle blanket tucked under my arm. His pale cheeks and utter shock as he’d stuttered and all but ran out the door had left me deflated and unsure whether I should carry on using The App.

  I let my chin sink lower into my hands, my mouth turning down as I went through the list of men who’d said they’d be interested in dating someone like me—a Little.

  The thing was, some of them only wanted to have sex, some wanted to explore their own kinks, and then there were the men who did want a boy, but only one who looked younger than me. It seemed being twenty-three was too old for some men.

  I heaved a defeated sigh, my shoulders sagging as I thought about how many men had misconceived ideas about what I was like. Okay, some of the men I’d dated had asked what being a Little meant to me, but somehow, they'd never ignited a spark of interest in me. That was why I’d paid Nathan a visit a couple of weeks back to see if I should carry on using The App.

  I’d already been explicit in the information I’d shared online, but either the men hadn't bothered to read it, or they just didn’t understand what I was really looking for. Nathan had basically told me to stop trying so hard and just see what happened. Now, as another date had bombed, and I’d heard nothing since, I was thinking that I’d be better off deleting the bloody thing from my phone.

  It wasn’t like I’d had to pay for it as I’d initially been trialling it for Nathan. As I watched the sun sink lower in the sky, I frowned.

  Delete it, or keep it?

  If you delete it, you might miss the opportunity of a lifetime.

  Is that not like saying I could win the lottery?

  You don’t do the lottery.

  I huffed at how silly the conversation was getting inside my head. When my stomach growled, reminding me that it was long past lunchtime and I’d not eaten anything, I got up to go and make myself something to eat.

  After unlocking the tiny space I called home, I tucked the keys back into my baggy jeans and walked the twenty steps across the floor to the little fridge that sat on a wooden stool. The large wooden shed had two rooms. The main room, the larger of the two, housed my bed, a dilapidated sofa rescued from the tip, a rickety old table that held the fridge, a cooker and two mismatched chairs. The tabletop cooker had been reclaimed from a skip. After asking the owner if they’d mind me upcycling it, I’d climbed in and pulled it out. It worked perfectly. Well, it did after I’d tinkered with it and cleaned it up.

  There was no television because my parents visited and didn't approve. I’d never had one. My family were a bunch of hippies that believed children shouldn’t be brainwashed by TV programmes and should go out and experience nature instead. I’d never admitted that I secretly liked to watch cartoons on my phone when I was alone.

  The bathroom was a shoebox with a makeshift shower, which used a hose and a water heater I’d rigged up to warm the rainwater. The toilet was a chemical loo that visitors were somewhat reluctant to use. My lips puffed out and I blew out a breath as I took stock of the place I called home. Was this part of the reason I was single?

  If my upbringing had been the same as other children, would I have been more normal? I chuckled to myself. I’d given up trying to figure that one out once I'd realised that doing so wouldn't alter my past.

  What difference does it make, you’re you?

  The internal childish voice sounded irritated as I stared into the fridge.

  There was a part of me that revelled in the freedom of being different, in my need to be taken care of by a Daddy. Then there was the part of me that didn’t get why I couldn’t just tuck all the stupidness away in a box and pretend it wasn’t there, and accept something a little more traditional.

  My gaze was drawn to my bed and what I knew was hidden underneath it. I’d had the box ever since I’d first figured out I was different. The expectations of people, who all thought they knew what was right for me, had been suffocating. Therefore, I’d felt compelled to keep my Little side hidden in order not to disappoint them.

  I’d first worked out I was different when I'd visited the home of one of the girls I was friends with at school. We’d gone to her bedroom to study, and there on her bed had been two rather tatty dogs, Blue-blue and Pink-pink. She’d been utterly unapologetic about the fact that she slept with two stuffed dogs, and that she wouldn’t go on any trips without them, totally uncaring about what others thought about it. Those stuffies had been well-loved and it had touched something deep inside me. I’d not been able to stop thinking about what it might be like to embrace my inner child and why my parents had never given me anything like that as a child. After some consideration, I’d asked my parents.

  “Mum, can I ask you something?” I hopped from one foot to the next as she walked around the cabin searching for something, not really paying me much attention.

  “What Sawyer? I’m a little busy. I’m looking for the book I was reading on deforestation. There's a group of us looking at travelling to the worst hit areas next week, to see the damage for ourselves."

  I was so used to her and my father leaving to go on one trip or another that I didn’t bat an eyelid at the fact that they weren't going to be at home for my upcoming sixteenth birthday. Spying the book she’d been reading the previous night peeking out from under a pile of clothes she’d probably put down and forgotten about, I retrieved it and handed it to her. “Here you go. Now can I ask a question?”

  “If you must,” she stated, sounding exasperated and still not looking at me.

  I exhaled and then asked quickly, “Why did you never buy me a cuddly toy or give me a dummy when I was little?” My cheeks heated as her gaze moved from the book to me.

  Her intense dark eyes peered at me thoughtfully. “Why would you need such things? A child needs to be self-sufficient and taught that from the very beginning. Useless possessions are of no importance and just make children clingy.” There was something in her tone that warned me not to argue. Feeling hurt by her brusque behaviour, I nodded and quickly turned to leave, doing my best to keep the tears clogging my throat under control.

  “Sawyer, why do you ask?”

  My heart raced at the question. Stood at the door, I answered without turning around. “I just wondered is all.” It was lame, but it was the best I could come up with at that moment.

  Vibrations from the phone in my trouser pocket brought me back to the present. My blurry eyes took a moment to focus on the screen as I tugged it out of my pocket. I sniffed twice and rubbed at my eyes with my free hand—stupid emotions.

  I blinked and then sighed when I saw that the icon for The App held a message. It was probably another loser looking for a shag.

  I dithered. Should I just delete it and not bother to read it?
This could be the man of your dreams.

  I rolled my eyes at the thought, but the hope that raced around inside me wouldn’t let go so I hit the icon to open up the message box.

  BB: I’ve never done this before and I’m not even sure why I’m doing it now, but here goes. Would you be interested in getting to know me and maybe going on a date?

  What hadn’t he done before? Used an app? Been on a date with a Little? Been on a date period? What wasn’t he sure about?

  The more questions I came up with, the more deflated I felt. I went and sat on the saggy sofa, food forgotten and stared at the screen for long period of time. What should I do? The weird thing was, my stomach was fluttering and it hadn’t felt like that in forever. The screen darkened as I chewed on my lip, so I hit the button to reread the message.

  Still undecided, I went into BB’s profile. There was no face pic, though there was a beautiful arty picture of a muscular forearm. That was different. On mine, I’d used a side profile picture of my face in shadow so you could kind of see what I looked like.

  I read through the information on the profile and my heart sank. The guy was a novice with no experience of being a Daddy, or of having been with a Little before.

  At least he's honest. Was that enough though? With that thought running through my head, I started to type a response.

  LittleS: I’m not sure we’d be a good match. I need someone who understands what a Little needs. Sorry.

  I hit send and was about to shut the app when the icon lit up. I held my breath, my mouth starting to dry up. My eyes widened as the message popped up. My blood heated as my heart rate went into overdrive.

  BB: Then wouldn’t I be perfect because you could train me to be what you want?

  Well shit! A Daddy to train. Was this man for real?

  Boyd

  Two weeks later, I still wasn't over what appeared to be a midlife crisis, and I’d spent my day off coming up with a plausible excuse to ask Nathan about Sawyer. Now I just needed to sound believable.

  I knocked on Nathan’s open office door and waited for his shout of “come in” before I poked my head around the door. “You got a minute, Nathan?”

  He placed the papers he was holding down and nodded so I stepped into his office, swallowing down the ball of panic in my throat. “It’s just that I noticed you talking to a young man a couple of weeks ago. He had colourful hair and I wondered if he was the delivery guy for the lights that came that day?”

  Heat filled my face and I stopped talking, willing myself to act a little more relaxed. My back felt stiffer than a board as Nathan eyed me with curiosity.

  “Nah… if I’ve got the right day then you saw me talking to a friend, Sawyer. He’s a waiter at Carl’s restaurant and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t moonlight as a delivery guy. Why? What’s up?” There was an edge to Nathan’s voice as he spoke.

  Thankfully, that was the hard part over and done with so I breathed more easily and told the truth, instead of some made-up bullshit. “The company we’ve been using for some of the fittings sent another wrong delivery. I’m starting to think someone’s got it in for me,” I joked. I kept my face neutral as Nathan sat forward, his massive arms flexing as he rested his elbows on the desk.

  “Is this going to fuck with the deadline?” he demanded, a scowl forming.

  “We’ve used another company who were good enough to express deliver what we needed. The men stayed all night to get them fitted so there won’t be a delay,” I explained as sweat gathered under my arms. “That guy, Sawyer… he… had interesting hair.”

  A furious heat rose up my neck as Nathan started laughing.

  You were about as subtle as a sledgehammer!

  “Yes, that’s one way of putting it. Sawyer is a… hippy at heart.” Nathan’s lips pursed and he paused for a second, looking thoughtful. “In fact, I don’t know why I didn’t think to mention your company to him."

  “Why would he be interested in my company?” I asked in alarm. Had Nathan figured out that I’d downloaded The App?

  He gazed at me, a frown appearing as he answered. “Your building company. Sawyer is building his own home on some land he bought a couple of years ago. He’s used several companies already and none of them seemed to stick around for very long.” Nathan shrugged his powerful shoulders, eyeing me as if I’d lost the plot. “Maybe you’d be interested? It’s right up your street—”

  My mouth seemed to engage before my brain as I blurted out, “What have you heard?” I wished I'd kept quiet when Nathan’s eyes narrowed on me.

  “Am I missing something here, because it sure as hell feels like it? Sawyer is building an ECO-friendly home, something I’ve heard you mention is a bit of passion of yours.” He barely held in his laughter as I rolled my eyes heavenward.

  Why had I thought this was a good idea?

  “Yes, it is,” I answered, returning to the chair to sit before I fell down. Once I was seated, Nathan leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped over his flat stomach and speculation sparking in the depth of his gaze. I took a breath and went with honesty.

  Sitting at home later that day, I stared at the open app icon after spending hours searching for Sawyer. My heart had skipped merrily as I’d clicked on LittleS's profile and instantly recognised Sawyer’s face, even though it was in profile.

  Are you really going to do this?

  It didn’t matter how many times I told myself not to, I knew differently. Even though I’d never met him in person, there was something about Sawyer, that called to a part of me I’d never acknowledged before.

  The time I’d spent going through all the contacts in The App to find Sawyer had been hellish. Who the heck could have known there were so many kinks out there? Or that they were way more interesting than I’d ever considered. Up until now, I’d have described myself as a meat and two veg kind of guy—plain and simple. That’s why you spoke to Glenn about trying something different and asked Nathan for a membership?

  Oh, shut up.

  As I’d searched through the different profiles, I hadn't been able to escape how much my heart had raced with excitement, or how captivated I’d been by certain things I’d read.

  I eyed the phone clutched in my sweaty palm and then I started to type. Exhaling the breath that had become caught in my lungs, I hit send before I could change my mind. I reread what I'd written and swallowed the pitiful sigh at how dorky it sounded.

  BB: I’ve never done this before and I’m not even sure why I’m doing it now, but here goes. Would you be interested in getting to know me and maybe going on a date?

  For a couple of minutes, I stared at the screen, willing Sawyer to answer. I couldn’t help but curse at how desperate I was probably coming across as. No, there’s no probably about it, you’re definitely desperate.

  My hand jerked as my phone buzzed.

  LittleS: I’m not sure we’d be a good match. I need someone who understands what a Little needs. Sorry.

  I replied without thinking about it.

  BB: Then wouldn’t I be perfect because you could train me to be what you want?

  What the fuck had compelled me to write that?

  Reeling from my own audacity, I sat there frozen.

  Why couldn’t I just let it go? You know full well, why… Daddy.

  Oh, shut up.

  I refused to have a debate with myself as I stared at the screen, waiting with bated breath to see how Sawyer would respond.

  Unnerved by my own needs, I laid the phone down as the seconds ticked by and there was still no response. My stomach rumbling, I got up in the hope that I could distract myself with dinner.

  When my phone buzzed to alert me to a message from The App, I spun around too fast, losing my balance and crashing into the wall with a resounding thud. The alert reminded me of the time I’d spent ensuring that the sound to alert me to a message was different from any other I had. I ran back to pick up my phone, ignoring the pain in my shoulder.

  You’re a foolish
old man, I scolded myself, but it made no difference as my heart beat against my ribs in a rapid staccato rhythm that left me breathless. Willing myself to stop acting like a bloody fool, I paused before picking up the phone with shaky fingers.

  Pull yourself together, you idiot.

  Shaking my head, I read the message and then reread it, a smile spreading across my face.

  LittleS: Are you serious? This isn’t some sort of joke?

  Sawyer

  My fingernails dug into my palm as I resisted the urge to open the door of my locker and grab my phone. Seb had a hard and fast rule—no phones when you were working in the restaurant.

  I understood why, but that still didn’t stop me from wanting to carry mine. BB… Builder Boyd, had been messaging me frequently ever since he’d asked me to train him. I’d avoided the subject of teaching him as we’d chatted about ourselves. Boyd, I’d found out, had a great sense of humour and liked to send me funny jokes and memes throughout the day to entertain me.

  I’d not brought up the subject of whether he was actually a builder, a little wary after all the issues I’d had with the ones I’d employed to build my dream home.

  What if he was one of the builders I’d worked with and he was taking the piss out of me?

  I blanched, the thought stopping me dead in my tracks. Why hadn’t I thought of that before?

  Had I worked with someone called Boyd? An attempt to recall all the contractors I’d previously employed left me feeling a little anxious, so I stopped thinking about it. Boyd’s a decent guy. He doesn’t set off any alarm bells.

  Then why haven’t you agreed to a date with him?

  That was a good question and one I wasn’t sure I could answer. I was undecided whether it was a good idea to date a novice, regardless of his offer that I could train him. Although, after a week of messaging I was starting to weaken. I found myself getting excited waiting for his random messages throughout the day. It was getting harder and harder not to give in to the temptation.