Page 24 of Stars Like Confetti

He cried out through his release, the sound reverberating off the walls. I praised him, working him through the waves of pleasure that sent shivers through his body. He trembled in my arms and collapsed onto my chest when his legs would no longer hold him upright. “Such a good boy…” I guided him under the spray, cleaning him one more time to rinse away the evidence of what we’d done.

Shea’s breathing came down, and his head rested against my shoulder. I peered down his chest, watching it rise and fall as the suds slid down his body and swirled down the drain. His fingers made their way back to his mouth, his safe space just out of reach.

“Do you want to be Little for a while?” I only received a nod in response, which meant he was regressing to little Little. I wasn’t going to complain. It gave me a reason to take care of him for the day, to not let him out of my sight. “Let’s get you dressed, baby.”

Shea moved pliantly out of the shower and let me dry him off, all the while with those two fingers in his mouth. He didn’t say a word—he didn’t need to. I knew what he needed.

Das always knew.

He giggled when I lifted him onto the changing table and let him lay down. “Diaper or training pants today?” I asked, holding up the two options for him. He went with the former, and I spread the antibiotic on his thighs before working the padded material under his butt. When his skin met the cotton, he let out a sigh, like being diapered brought him a comfort he desperately needed. I fastened up the tapes, then left the room briefly to grab his T-shirt and jean shorts.

We stayed quiet as I dressed him, neither of us having anything to say. Shea watched my hands wiggle the denim up his hips and fasten it snug over his diaper. I focused on the soft rise and fall of his chest, the quiet suckling coming from his fingers in his mouth. My pace was unhurried, enjoying taking care of my boy. I’d never had a full time Little before, never performed more than a scene with someone. Some of them would repeat, but that’s all they were. The scene would end, or something would happen to bring them out of their regression and we would go our separate ways.

It never bothered me to keep things that way. I could have a bit of fun, and it was never anyone’s fault but I would lose interest after the fun was over. I didn’t have any doubt that they’d have been a great partner, but they weren’t the one I wanted.

That one was right in front of me and with the reminder of where we were, came the crushing realization that our time together was limited—yet again. We only had this week together, and then he’d go back to Tennessee.

“What’s wrong, Da?” Shea garbled around his fingers. For him to speak must have meant that my emotions were written all over my face.

I shook my head and schooled my features, plastering a smile on my face—which wasn’t hard when I looked into those sparkling eyes of his. “Nothing, sweetheart.” Shea read right through my bullshit but thankfully, his regression won out. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

That was when I switched his fingers for a pacifier, which he happily accepted in favor of sliding his hand into mine, hardly letting go so I could dress myself. The difficulty left me in the same cutoffs and sports bra from the first night and judging by the way Shea’s eyes raked over my body, he approved. His hand drifted between his legs, squidging the front of his diaper. Smiling, I snatched his hand away. “Food, little one,” I scolded.

Unwilling to let go of his soother to argue, Shea only expressed his disdain for the idea of food over sex by narrowing his eyes—I could feel his glare burning a hole in my back the entire walk across camp.

Insecurity didn’t strike until we entered the dining hall. More than one person turned to look as I led Shea through the food line to get his breakfast. Naturally, since I rarely exposed more than my legs With both of Shea’s hands on his tray, I took the opportunity to wrap my arm around my stomach. This was the first time during camp I’d forgone my binder during the day. The sports bra compressed some, but not entirely, and it left me feeling exposed. Sure, I’d dressed femme at the club from time to time but this was different. Not everyone here attended the club.

Not everyone here had ever seen me in such little clothing.

I snapped out of it when Shea turned around, attempting to glare at me but only looking even more adorable with his bright blue pacifier still in his mouth. His brows were furrowed, and his attention dropped to where I covered myself. Apparently deciding that he wasn’t going to put up with it, he took my left hand and pried it away, linking his fingers through mine to prevent me from hiding myself again. His knowledge of gender dysphoria knew my next move before I made it, and he shoved a juice bottle in my right hand to render that one out of commission as well.

“Brat,” I murmured. Shea only peered over his shoulder, the tease and sparkle in his eyes enough for me to not be angry with him. He was right—I didn’t need to hide myself. Not here. Playhouse had been a safe place for so many people. It was nothing if it wasn’t mine as well. I was the one who put in the “no judgement” rule for this place. I didn’t have any reason to be self-conscious or insecure with these people.

Shea hauled me across the room and tugged me into a seat across from Tyler, who looked like he’d seen better days—and hadn’t seen a bed last night.

“Shea might be a bit quiet today,” I told him. “He’s feeling smaller than usual.”

“That’s just fine with me,” Tyler replied, paling as if the mere sight of Shea’s breakfast was going to make him sick.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Go ahead, Tyler,” Jordan’s voice said from behind me. “Tell them why you look like death warmed over.”

That brought some color to his face, but not much. He also didn’t speak, leaving Jordan to fill in the blanks. Though as he took the seat next to Tyler, the items he set in front of the boy explained everything: Gatorade, crackers, and a bottle of Tylenol. “Oh, someone’s hanging.”

Tyler groaned and dropped his head to the table.

“That’s what happens when you play Never Have I Ever and then decide to go skinny dipping.”

I choked on my next mouthful of coffee. Shea, oblivious to anything we were talking about, picked at his breakfast with his free hand tightly holding onto mine. With one hand down, he struggled to pick apart his chocolate croissant, only succeeding in coating his fingers in chocolate. Instinctively, I took it in my free hand and offered him a bite. He let out a contented hum and settled into my side.

I raised my brow at Tyler, words on the tip of my tongue but he wasn’t my boy to scold.

“Believe me,” he groaned. “I don’t need any more punishment. This headache is enough.”

“You’ll pray for that headache by the time I’m finished with you,” Jordan snarled, shoving the drink and painkillers in his direction.

“This is exactly why I don’t drink,” Shea murmured, so softly that Jordan and Tyler hadn’t even registered that he spoke.