#Chapter1

As Lucien Murdock stared down at the palm-sized stuffed tiger that peeked up at him from behind his glass of water, he felt his chest tighten painfully.

This, he thought to himself, fighting back the urge to sniffle, was why he didn't like to meet new people.

Rejection stung in ways that words could never truly heal. It stuck hard and deep, wounding so finely, so thinly, that it almost seemed undetectable, making it impossible for the croon of positive thoughts to stitch up. He should have known—

/"Luci,/" Ronan Elmore whined, clicking his fingers in his face. /"Luci, pay attention to me. I've been talking to you./"

Blinking hard, he forced his head away from the stuffed toy and towards his current best friend— Ronan really hadn't given him much choice in the matter.

/"Sorry,/" Lucien whispered, cheeks flushing. /"I was miles away. What did you say?/"

Ronan's eyes, a deep blue, softened. His whole face seemed to, for that matter. Which only brought it to Lucien's attention that something was different today.

Usually, Ronan was very loud when it came to his appearance. He loved clothes that were bright and unusual, and his face was never considered done unless it had been smoothed over with a thin trail of make-up and finished off with an avalanche of glitter. His hair, short and blond, was usually turned into a sea of glittery, sparkly waves, too.

Today, however, that was not the case. His face, seeming more macho than it did the sweet and gentle cast it often portrayed when he decorated it in his sparkles and shine regime, and he was dressed all in black. He was also very quiet, which was very unlike him.

/"I said,/" Ronan said, forcing an overly dramatic sigh, /"Tell me how your date went. I need the deets, babes./"

Once again, Lucien's eyes dropped to the tiger. His eyes were so warm that part of him was convinced that they were more than plastic beads. It had been why out of all of the selection, he had chosen him.

/"It was okay,/" Lucien said at last. It wasn't lying. The date had been great. Angelo Toussaint, the man that Ronan had as good as bullied him into going out for dinner with, had been nothing shy of the perfect gentleman. He had opened the car door for him and had pulled out his chair for him when they had arrived at the restaurant. They had headed down to the local pier afterwards and the little tourist shop had been still open. Angel had bought the tiger for him there.

/"Just okay?/" Ronan pressed, but it lacked his usual enthusiasm and was cut off by a sharp yawn. /"Come on, Luce! You're killing me here./"

/"What do you want me to say?/" Lucien whispered. He knew his cheeks were still blazing. The heat that engulfed his face made it feel like his face was melting.

/"I want you to tell me all the glossy little deets,/" Ronan drawled out, rolling his eyes. He reached for his iced frappe, taking a deep slurp from the straw, but his eyes never once left Lucien's. /"You went on a date, with a potential Daddy, might I add, for the first time since you kicked that loser you used to date to the curb. I need more than okay, babes? Did he treat you nicely? Do I need to kick his ass?/"

Ronan was one of the few people that knew that Lucien was a Little. It wasn't so much a secret as something he considered to be highly personal. He didn't feel the need to advertise.

He was okay with Ronan knowing though. As Ro was a Switch, somebody who could be both a Caregiver and a Little, he knew that he could trust him with that sensitive piece of information. Especially as Ronan had a way of nurturing the Little side of him. He had a way of nudging it to the surface with such subtle delicacy.

/"No./" Shaking his head, his hands reached for the tiger, pulling it against his chest, his fingers curling into his soft fur. /"He was really nice./"

Breaching the six-foot mark, blessed with broad shoulders and a kick-ass physique, Ronan had the uncanny ability to make anything he did either look inspiringly graceful, or overly clumsy. The way he quirked an eyebrow, leaned back in his chair and bobbed his head in a sassy manner, that was all grace.

/"Babes, I set you two up on a date because I thought you'd be perfect together. If it didn't go well, please tell me. And if he was mean to you, friend or not, I will make him cry./"

And the thing was, Ronan looked nothing but serious about the threat.

Which would have been comical in a way.

Angel Toussaint was like a mountain. At six foot three and as solid as a tree trunk, his sheer size and natural demeanor alone was enough to have most people side-stepping. Yet, when you added the all black theme he had been sporting, calf-high New Rock boots, G-Star black jeans and a heavy-duty leather jacket that was slung over the top of a wife-beater, he looked down and out deadly. Lucien had almost bottled it and blew off the date when he had first saw him.

In his head, Lucien could just picture Ronan running up to the guy and throwing a handful of glitter in his eyes, sticking his tongue out and running away.

If nothing else, the mental image brought a smile to his lips.

/"He was a gentleman,/" Lucien offered at last. /"He was just very quiet and a little bit intimidating. Not— not on purpose. He was just really big and I felt super small and— and—/" Lucien trailed off hopelessly, glancing down at his tiger once more. /"I'm just not so sure that he liked me. He said he would call me, but he didn't./"

Which hurt because once his initial fear had settling once it became apparent the man wasn't the brute his first impression had made him out to be, Lucien had quite enjoyed himself. He'd been really good looking too, which had been a huge confidence booster at the time to think that somebody like Angel would be attracted to somebody like him.

For a two bedroomed house, the kitchen was relatively small. The upside was that the quaintness held a homely effect, ushering in a deep, cosy ambience. Lucien had painted his house Pokémon-themed; every room was painted based on the colour of a certain Pokémon. The kitchen walls were a Bulbasaur green. So were most of his appliances, like his toaster and kettle. The countertops, just because he hadn't been able to afford to rip them out and change them, remained the same glossy white they had been when he had moved in.

As Ronan frowned, tilting back onto the hind legs of his chair, the beam of sunlight that had seeped in through the window— the tied back drapes a shade of pink to represent the bulb on Ivysaur's back once Bulbasaur evolved— and fell across the other man's face in a magical kind of way.

It reminded Lucien just how beautiful Ronan actually was. If not for the fact that they were so close that he saw him as only a brother, he would have probably still had a crush on him.

/"Did he buy you that stuffie?/" Ronan asked at last, flicking the chair back onto all fours after staying back too far and almost falling.

/"Yes./" Patting the tiger's head, he remembered how elated he had felt the night before. He'd crawled into bed, cuddling his new best friend close, losing himself to the high buzz of activity his thoughts released, reliving the night and cooing over specific moments.

The sense of rejection and stupidity hadn't settled in until the next morning when Angel hadn't texted or called. And then when noon came and there was still nothing, he cursed himself for being stupid enough to have thought that Angel was being anything but polite.

/"He'll call you then./" Said with so much confidence, it had Lucien's head tilting.

/"How do you know?/" he asked, hating the way his heart let out a hopeful sigh. He hadn't realized until last night, as he stupidly tried to picture his future with the man he'd just met, how much he missed being in a relationship. And as Ronan had said that he was a Daddy Dom too, his hopes had soared that t he could potentially be Little around him without feeling ashamed.