by T C Heffer
"Ooh, d'you work with a firm?" she asks, perking up in her plastic chair.
"I used to when I lived in New York," Jeremy says, "but since I moved back here a few years ago, I've been working freelance."
"I'll have to pick your brain about that sometime, if that's okay with you. I've been thinking of going into law." Mia puts a finger to her chin. "I don't know what field yet, though."
"Have you applied to any colleges?"
Mia nods. "Yeah, I sent applications to several who I've heard have good law programmes, but I won't hear back until the spring."
With the discussion on college applications, Steve sinks a bit lower in his chair because he hasn't applied anywhere yet. His mother has been bugging him about it but he's been putting it off. He should get on with it before his mother actually gets mad at him. He looks across the table and finds Pete in a similar position, pretending to be very interested in his remaining few curly fries in hopes that Jeremy and Mia don't try to rope him into the discussion. He guesses that his best friend also has yet to apply anywhere.
They both really need to get their shit together.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, once all the food has somehow been eaten—including the funnel cake Pete wanted—Steve and Mia go off on their own for a while, leaving Jeremy in the company of just his boy. He prefers it this way. He liked Steve and Mia well enough, and he had a good time talking to them—especially Mia—but he did find it a bit difficult to relate to them. He supposes that it's just one of the unique challenges that he and Pete are going to face in their relationship. He'll have difficulty relating to Pete's friends, and Pete will probably be the same way with his.
They'll figure out a way around it, though. Of that, Jeremy is sure.
He slings his arm over Pete's shoulders, keeping him close. "So, what does my boy want to do now?"
"I dunno." Pete turns his head from side to side, taking in all the flashing lights around them, the attractions they haven't checked out yet. "There's still so much we could do."
"Since we've just eaten, we should probably let our food settle a bit before we go on any of the more exciting rides," Jeremy says wisely. He'd do it, but he'd rather not spend the night tending to a sick Pete. "How about the House of Mirrors?"
Pete agrees to go, so Jeremy leads him to where he remembers seeing it earlier. The line isn't very long, so after a short five-minute wait, Pete and Jeremy step inside and proceed down a long and winding hallway. The walls are painted in a pattern of large red and blue triangles, and there are dozens of trick mirrors secured equidistant from each other along each one. Jeremy peers into them all with Pete and actually finds their reflections pretty funny. In one mirror, they both appear like they've put on a hundred pounds, and in another, they're as thin as beanstalks. Even their heads are squished like cucumbers.
"These are so dumb," Pete says when they're at a mirror that makes his head appear gigantic. Despite his words, Jeremy can tell that he's enjoying himself.
Jeremy nudges him along with a snort. "C'mon, let's keep going."
Eventually, they reach the end of the House of Mirrors and exit back out onto the carnival grounds, other people milling around them in small groups and pairs. With Pete's hand once again in his, Jeremy searches for another attraction for them to participate in and his eyes alight on a series of stalls positioned next to each other. The games are the typical carnival fare but could be fun.
"How about those next?" He points out the games.
"Yeah, sure." Pete shoots Jeremy a devious grin. "I used to be pretty good at the ring toss. Think you can beat me?"
"I'd be willing to give it a go."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
Jeremy allows himself to be dragged over to the ring toss, Pete pulling hard on his arm. He's glad to see his boy having such a good time. That was the whole reason he suggested this place earlier; to keep Pete's mind occupied so that he wouldn't be consumed by thoughts of reconciling with his Dad the next day.
It seems that Jeremy has done that a lot the past few days, and he'll be happy not to have to do it for a while. Not because he's tired of it or doesn't like spending so much time with his boy, but because it will mean that Pete's relationship with his Dad is finally fixed and Pete won't have that raincloud hanging over his head anymore, putting a damper on everything. Sure, Pete doesn't really have a reason to be concerned right now, not when Jeremy told him over ice cream that the Chief is already coming around to them being together. But Jeremy doesn't doubt that, if they'd just stayed home, Pete would secretly fret, and Jeremy simply can't have his boy feeling like that.
When they reach the ring toss, the man behind the counter greets them kindly, his dirty-blonde hair long and wavy past his shoulders like a surfer stereotype. "Would you like to play, Sirs?" he asks.
"You bet your ass," Pete responds, getting competitive already.
"It's fifty cents per turn. You get three rings, and you try to get them around these." The man gestures to the six rows of wooden rods that are affixed vertically to a flat board. They range in thickness, with the thickest ones at the back. "Small ones are worth one point each; medium are worth three, and the big ones are worth five. The amount of points you get determines the prize you win."
"Got it," Pete says, obviously raring to play the game already.
Jeremy hands two quarters to the carnival worker and steps back to give his boy space. He watches intently as Pete takes the three rings the worker gives him and readies himself to toss the first one. He gets it around one of the medium-sized rods in the middle of the board and misses altogether with the next ring, but with the last, he takes a deep breath to centre himself again and manages to get it around one of the thickest rods at the back.
It was a good effort, but Jeremy is confident he can beat Pete's score. He applauds anyway.
"Alright! That's eight points. That's enough for one of these prizes." The carnival worker ducks down beneath the counter and reemerges with a box. "Choose any one you'd like."
Jeremy peers over Pete's shoulder and sees that the box is filled with small trinkets of little value, the standard things he'd expect to see in a carnival like this. He doesn't offer any input since Pete won the game and should get to choose his own prize, and he still says nothing when Pete ends up selecting a cheap water pistol that's fortunately not already filled with water or any other liquid.
"Good choice," the carnival worker says before looking almost conspiratorially at Jeremy. "My son likes those too."
Jeremy smiles affably and doesn't bother to correct the other man. That Pete is his son and not his lover is an assumption they're likely to get a lot, so there's no use getting mad about it now.
Pete turns to Jeremy. "Are you gonna have a turn?"
"Might as well. Someone's got to show you how it's done." Jeremy winks.
Pete scoffs. "Yeah, sure they do. Good luck with that."
"Oh, I don't know. I might surprise you."
After handing over another fifty cents and getting his rings, Jeremy rolls his shoulders and practises throwing one a few times without letting go of it. Once he has a good feel for its weight, he throws his first ring for real, immediately followed by the second and third. When he sees that they all went smoothly over the thickest posts, he smirks at his boy.
"I told you," he says smugly.
Pete huffs. "Fine, I guess you're better than me. But I'll beat you at another one of these games, mark my words!"
"I'm sure you will."
"Sir?" the carnival worker calls, getting Jeremy's attention again. "Since you got fifteen points, you can choose one of the prizes up here."
Jeremy tilts his head back and scans his eyes over the stuffed animals that are hung up around the edge of the stall ceiling. There's a big variety of animals—bears, giraffes, tigers, lions, alligators, even a llama or two—and since Jeremy doesn't have the faintest clue which one to go for, he watches Pete out of the corner of his eye. Pete seem
s to be staring at one of the animals on the left side of the stall, so Jeremy walks slowly behind him so that he can see what has apparently enamoured his boy so. Standing in just the right position, he sees it.
"That one," Jeremy says, pointing to the animal Pete was after.
A moment later, Jeremy has a teddy bear in his hands that's about the size of a human baby. Its brown fur is very soft and it has a baby-blue ribbon tied in a bow around its neck. He wonders what drew Pete to this toy in particular, but he doesn't ask about it. He just thanks the carnival worker, puts his arm around Pete's shoulders again and gives the bear to him as they walk away from the stall.
"Thanks, Daddy," Pete whispers in his ear, quiet enough that no one else hears.
Jeremy kisses the side of his head. "You're welcome, baby. Now how about a rematch on another game? See if you can actually beat me?"
* * *
When it's nearing 8 p.m., Pete and Jeremy decide to call it quits. Pete got a text from Steve half an hour ago saying that he and Mia were leaving, so he walks next to Jeremy back to the car. Getting in the passenger seat and buckling himself in, Pete gets comfortable with his water pistol hidden in the pocket of his leather jacket and the bear Jeremy won him on his lap.
He can't quite figure out how he feels about having the bear, can't articulate it well, even in his own thoughts. When he saw it at the ring toss, it instantly reminded him of a teddy bear he used to have when he was very young, maybe five or six years old, only it had a green ribbon instead of blue. His mother got it for him, and Pete took it everywhere he went for months and months, until the day he lost it. He cried for ages, but there was nothing anyone could do to get it back and eventually he forgot all about it, other interests and traumas taking the bear's place as he grew older.
Pete looks down at this new bear and ponders what he should do with it. He wants to keep it because it's basically a gift from Jeremy and therefore means a lot to him, but he doesn't know what it means in the grand scheme of things. There's something…nice…about running his fingers through the soft brown fur and over the silky blue ribbon. It makes him feel calm, his mind no longer racing with endless thoughts. It's a bit like the feeling he gets when he's in Jeremy's arms, like he's safe and doesn't need to think or worry about anything.
There's a part of Pete that knows exactly what that means, but he isn't confident enough in himself to address it yet, so he ignores it.
He'll figure it out later. Maybe he'll talk to Jeremy about it, get some reassurance.
"Did you have a fun evening, baby?" said man asks, beginning the hour-long drive back to Leraine.
"Yeah. Tonight was great, Daddy," Pete answers. "Thanks for bringing me here."
"You're welcome. Perhaps we'll come again soon, make a tradition out of it."
Now that the excitement of the carnival is behind him, Pete's eyelids begin to droop. It's been a long day for him, and he's definitely feeling it now. He slumps down in his seat and rests his head against the headrest, barely seeing the road in front of them or the streetlights flashing past the window to his right. Without thinking too hard about it, Pete shifts sideways so that he's leaning against the door and clutches his teddy bear to his chest, enjoying the simple, innocent comfort of it.
"Is my boy all tuckered out now?" Jeremy enquires after a minute, voice quiet and fond. He must have glanced Pete's way at a red light or something.
Pete is already half asleep and can't offer up a proper response. All he can do is hum.
"I'll take that as a yes. Sleep, baby. We'll be home before you know it."
With the gentle rocking of the car and the vibrations of the tyres on the road beneath them, Pete goes under not a moment later, still holding his teddy.
— CHAPTER EIGHTEEN —
- Tuesday, December 3rd, 2013 -
When Pete wakes up in the morning, he has a moment of disorientation before he realises that he's not in the car but alone in Jeremy's bed. Jeremy must have carried him inside last night, and from the smell of bacon coming from downstairs, the older man has already been up for a while preparing breakfast. Pete considers getting up too and going to join him in the kitchen, but then he glances at the clock on the nightstand and sees that he still has over an hour before he has to get ready for school, so he stays right where he is.
He'll get up when Jeremy calls him and no sooner.
He's too toasty and comfortable to move anyway, snuggled up on his side in just his boxers, with the blankets pulled up to his neck and the combined scent of himself and Jeremy filling his nose.
Other than that it's nice, Pete thinks nothing of it for a while, and then what the sheets smelling so strongly of him really means hits him: he's been sleeping in this bed long enough for his scent to embed itself there. He grins widely, thrilled to spend many more nights here in the future. From what Jeremy told him of the talk he had with the Chief yesterday, Pete is aware that he'll probably have to move back in with his Dad later today. But that's not enough to bring him down, to erase how ecstatic he is to have found his place in life already.
Others would warn him that it's just puppy love.
They'd say that, at eighteen, there's no way the romantic emotions he has right now are real.
They'd say he should be prepared for them to disappear just as quickly as they'd come, and he won't be able to experience what real love is like for several years yet.
Pete doesn't believe any of that crap. He simply knows that his feelings for Jeremy are the real deal. Sure, his life is going to change drastically again when he begins attending whichever college he ends up being accepted to, but he just can't see him and Jeremy not going the distance. It's not because he's blind or naive or anything like that. Everything in him is just certain that he and Jeremy have something special, something most people would give anything for. He considers himself lucky that he found it so early, and he swears to himself that he'll never take it for granted.
He'll never take Jeremy for granted.
After several minutes spent lying perfectly still, just pondering his life, Pete rolls onto his back and feels something soft bump against his side. Lifting the blankets to inspect it, Pete finds the teddy bear Jeremy won for him yesterday pressed against his ribs. Huh. Jeremy must've tucked him in with it last night. Or maybe it was before he left the bed this morning.
Pete groans at his actions yesterday. There's no way Jeremy would've missed how Pete was cuddling the stuffed animal on the drive home, and he's more than smart enough to have jumped to the right conclusion. Jeremy tucking him in like he did is proof of that. It's similar to how a Daddy would treat their little, and from the way imagining that exact scenario makes Pete's chest all warm and tingly, there's more to his identity as Daddy's boy than he'd originally thought.
This knowledge forces Pete to confront what he'd been afraid to in the car. He can't decide how he feels about it all. He remains hesitant to consider himself a proper little, but there must be further he can sink into the role of boy without it feeling wrong. How deep will Pete go? Will he eventually contradict everything he said before and end up as a full-fledged little? Part of Pete balks.
But not all of him.
Fuck. What is he doing to do?
Jeremy said he didn't want a little. He evidently didn't judge Pete for the teddy bear, but Pete is still nervous. He sucks in a breath and holds it. They'll simply have to discuss it. Jeremy won't end their relationship just because Pete is still discovering things about himself. After repeating that to himself several times like a mantra, Pete exhales and clutches his bear—he'll have to come up with a name for it later—to his chest, taking comfort in the sensation of its soft fur against his bare skin. It helps a lot.
A couple minutes later, Pete hears footsteps on the stairs and sits up with the bear still held to his chest. The footsteps get closer, and then Jeremy pushes open the bedroom door and steps inside with a tray in his hands, on top of which is balanced a plate of food and a tall glass of orange juice.
Like Pete, Jeremy wears just a pair of black boxer-briefs, miles of tanned, hirsute skin on display like he's a greek god and the sunlight already streaming in through the window is the glow of the power he possesses.
It makes sense to Pete, because in that moment, Jeremy has complete power over him.
"Oh good, you're awake!" Jeremy greets, smiling as he walks over to the bed.
"What all this?" Pete asks, not even attempting to hide the bear. It's too late for that.
Jeremy sits down next to him, places the tray over his own lap and presses a kiss to Pete's temple. "It's breakfast in bed for my good boy."
Pete lights up inside. "What's the occasion?"
"I don't need a special occasion to treat my boy, do I?"
Pete shakes his head. "I guess not."
When Jeremy picks up the knife and fork and begins to cut up the bacon strips and fried eggs on the plate, Pete frowns, bemused. "You said it was my breakfast."
Jeremy doesn't stop what's doing, moving on to cut up the small stack of pancakes completing the spread. "It is."
"Then…what're you doing?"
Once he's finished, Jeremy spears a piece of pancake on the end of the fork and brings it to Pete's mouth. "I'm feeding my boy."
His eyes wide, Pete just stares. He wasn't expecting this. He wasn't expecting this at all.
"C'mon, baby," Jeremy coaxes. "Open up."
Unable to deny the command, Pete opens his mouth, accepts the fluffy, syrup-slathered morsel and chews, still trying to get up to speed with what's happening. When he has, he leans into Jeremy's side and lets it go on, actually liking it quite a bit. It's another way his Daddy is taking care of him, and while not even a few weeks ago he would've felt disrespected if he were treated like this, isn't this basically what he wants now, at least partially? Apparently so, since he's not stopping Jeremy from feeding his cut-up breakfast to him, and he's still holding his teddy.