A special thanks to Anthony for the following story. It is, without a doubt, one of the best that I’ve read about the special relationship that can develop between two people – and about the feelings and experiences of being a ‘daddy’.
One of the things I love about the story is that it takes time to develop – and, I think, shows how a relationship deepens over times as both the ‘daddy’ and his little boy explore their feelings and learn about each other.
Enjoy – and please give Anthony a big thanks for sharing such a wonderful work! Stay tuned for lots more.
Firstly: This story has been kindly hosted on, and only on ABDLDaddy.com. Please do not alter or redistribute.
Secondly: This is a work of pure fiction that involves two consenting adults. All characters and events are fictional and any similarities to anyone living or dead is coincidental.
Thirdly: Herein contain swear words and the occasional use of blasphemy; if this offends you in anyway it’s best if you stop reading.
Fourthly: The story is set in the United Kingdom, so expect some British colloquialisms. If you don’t understand them that’s what Google and a good dictionary is for.
Fifthly: I hope you enjoy.
Part One, Chapter One
“Erm…Hi… Andrew Northcross?” he said after I opened the door. I looked down at my would-be lodger. He was slim and cute as a button; pale with dark hair and eyes with clothes that just hung off him, “I’m Tim, Tim Myers. We spoke on the telephone last week.”
“Hello, Tim. Come in and have a look at the place.” He stepped in, and I gave him the grand tour of the house I could barely afford to live in. I had many sleepless nights thinking about my current financial woes and decided that the best way to get some surplus cash would be to rent out a room in my home.
“So, whereabouts have you come from?”
“Edinburgh,” he said.
“That’s a long way to come.”
“It’s eight hours in the car.”
“Have you being room searching all day?” I asked.
“Yeah, I found a place that was nice, but I’m allergic to cats, and the lady had about four of them.”
“Oh, I can see how that would be problematic. I haven’t got any pets if that helps. I did used to have a corn snake once,” I said, trying to make small talk.
“Really? That sounds pretty cool.”
“Well it was, until it got loose and my neighbour found it in her garden and killed it.” I turned to look at Tim again. “Actually she screamed the entire street down, and then she killed it.” I smiled, Tim laughed.
Tim had been the first one to contact me; he said he was twenty-five – which surprised me as he didn’t look it. He was a young graduate starting a job and had to move from home to the other side of the country.
I showed him the living room, kitchen, and pointed towards the utility room. He seemed impressed by what he saw.
“If you follow me upstairs, you’ll see over there is my office-come-study where you’ll find me should you need to during the day. That’s my bedroom should you need me in the night. That’s the bathroom and toilet.” We walked towards the largest of the spare rooms. “And this is where you’d be sleeping.” He walked in, looked at the room and nodded. “Twin bed, a double wardrobe and chest of drawers. The power socket is close to the desk should you need to charge a laptop, and a night stand complete with a lamp.”
“This is nice.”
“I have bed sheets, mattress and pillows so you won’t need to bring any. It’s £400 at the start of the month, and that includes everything, heat, water, broadband… food, the lot. Provided you don’t go crazy with thirty minute showers, start phoning China or turn the heating up at the first sign of cold I think we’ll be just fine,” I said looking down at him – I say look down, he was only about a head shorter than me.
“I’ve got some other places to look at today, but I like it here though. You’ve got a nice house, and I guess it’s close to where I work. Plus four hundred for everything is a bargain.”
“I’m pleased you like it,” I smiled and walked him out of the bedroom and down to the front door. “Would you mind letting me know anyway. I’ve had a couple of other people phoning up interested. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt before I show them the house.”
“OK, I will do. I’ll phone you tomorrow.”
I opened the door, and he stepped out and I shook his hand.
“It was nice meeting you, Tim. I looked forward to hearing from you.”
“Yeah, OK, see you later,” he said. We shook hands, and he walked towards the drive. I closed the door behind him, watching him walking down the path and into his car. I watched him as he picked up a notepad and a map from the front passenger seat. He drove away slowly. When I couldn’t see him any more I went into the living room and sat down on a chair.
For the next few hours I couldn’t stop thinking about the handsome young man that I showed around my house. If I wanted anyone to move in here, I wanted it to be him.
Every time the phone rang I jumped up, and my heart skipped a beat when I answered. I kept expecting and hoping to hear his voice. I was immensely happy when he did phone me up.
“Hello?” I answered the phone.
“Hi Andrew, it’s Tim.”
“Oh hello, Tim,” I said trying to sound calm, my heart thumping.
“Yeah, I’ve just phoned to say that if it’s still OK with you I’d like to move in next Monday.”
“No, Tim, that’s fantastic. Do you know what time on Monday you’d be coming?”
“It’ll be after six in the evening.”
“Great,” I said feeling elated. We talked a bit more than I hung up the phone, and for the rest of the day I felt more like an excited four year old boy being told Christmas had come early rather than a forty-six year old man. I sighed knowing the next week was going to drag on.
In the week before Tim arrived he phoned me a couple of times asking all kinds of different questions, ranging from reference requests, to where he could park his car, each one I was happy to answer. I offered to cook him a meal when he arrived which he accepted.
The day finally came and I saw Tim’s car pull up. It was filled with boxes and cases. He rang the doorbell and I opened it. I welcomed him with another hand shake.
“Hello, Tim, it’s good to see you again,” I said smiling. “Would you like a hand with your things?”
“Yeah, that would be great,” I took a few of the boxes that he brought to the door. He followed me up stairs. We walked to his room; I had already given it a once-over with the vacuum cleaner and made his bed.
“OK, I think all my stuff should fit in here,” he said looking at the space available. We went back to his car and got all the boxes and cases from the back seat and boot and left them by the front door.
“Do you want a cup of tea or coffee?” I asked.
“A cup of tea would be fantastic,” he said, and I went in the kitchen and left him to finish unpacking.
I walked into his room with a cup in hand. He was in the middle of setting up a games console to a portable TV. For some reason seeing this made me think I’d been tremendously shallow in wanting this young man to move in. I hoped he wasn’t a lager lout and a fuckwit who expected a free ride and spent the rest his time fucking anything with a skirt.
“Oh, thank you.” He smiled and took the cup from me.
He’s polite. He’s probably not that bad.
“You getting your priorities right?” I joked, gesturing to the TV and games console.
“What? Oh yeah, got to make sure I’ve got enough room for my entertainment master system,” he joked back. He began to rummage in his bag and took out some shower gel. “Is it OK if I use your shower?” he asked.
I showed him where I kept the towels and spare bed sheets and how the shower worked. I said that dinner would be ready in about twenty minutes and I would give him a call when it was. I headed downstairs, and I left him to it.
Twenty minutes later he came into the kitchen looking and smelling better than he had done after his long drive. He sat down, and I handed him a plate of steaming hot food.
“Thanks, Andrew,” he said.
“Please, call me Andy,” I insisted.
We spent the rest of the evening talking and getting to know each other a little better, talking about our likes and interests. He said that when he finished school he did a bit of travelling and only in the last few years had he gone to University to get a qualification and find something useful to do with it. He talked about his job and explained he was on a one-year graduate placement.
“Yeah, it was kind of last minute, so I guess I’m lucky I found something – What do you do then?” he asked.
“I’m a solicitor.” I said and took out my wallet and handed him one of my business cards.
“Oh right, what else you going to do with a name like Northcross?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I laughed. Tim was about to hand me the card back. “No, you keep that. There’s a phone number should you need to phone me due to a life or death situation when I’m working.”
“Or should I need to sue my employer for asbestos poisoning,” he teased.
“Or that,” I smiled back. I decided that I liked him.
Tim came across and being polite and well-mannered and offered to wash up after we ate. I offered him a beer which he accepted and the pair of us talked some more. We got on like a house on fire.
“Oh hang on, I’ve go something for you,” he said and headed to his room. He came back with some sheets of A4 paper. It was the Licence to Occupy Agreement I forwarded him in the post.
“You understood most of it then?” I asked.
“You wrote it in legalese!” he stated, looking at me.
“Hazard of the profession,” I said and shrugged. “It’s more or less to cover my own backside and so we know where we stand should one of us decide this isn’t working out. The caveats are basically: set up a standing order, pull your own weight and clean up after yourself.”
“Well, I think I can manage that.”
“Fantastic!” I said and pulled out a set of keys from my pocket and handed them to him. “In that case: Welcome to number 39!”
“Morning,” he said as he walked in the kitchen the next day. I’d had already been up for an hour or so and was eating some breakfast.
“Morning, you sleep well?”
“Yeah, thanks,” he replied. I glanced over at Tim standing by the kitchen counter. He was in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of loose boxer shorts. I couldn’t stop staring. He wasn’t just slim, he was scrawny. I’d seen more fat on a Mars bar.
“I know,” he said and turned around, I think he felt me staring at him. “I know I’ve got the physical appearance of a recovering crack addict.”
“And you’re not modest either,” I replied. He looked at himself and shrugged.
“As if you’ve never seen this one hundred times before – I thought you said you used to play rugby?”
“You look NOTHING like a rugby player,” I laughed.
He grabbed some breakfast and sat down.
In the month that Tim had been living with me he had settled in nicely and had taken my offer of making himself at home to heart. Facebook seemed to have downloaded itself on to my iPad. He had a fondness for leaving his shoes on the stairs, and his toiletries had taken over the bathroom.
He was really good company and was more than prepared to help with housework and cooking. I took a real shine to the young man, and as that one month became two and three I started to do more and more for Tim; he would come in from work and find his bed made and a meal cooked for him.
“You didn’t have to do my laundry,” he said one day when he discovered his clothes ironed and folded in his room.
“I had nothing better to do,” I said. He smiled and thanked me; I did all his laundry from that week on.
He arrived home one evening after going for a couple of drinks with a few friends he made at work. I was sitting in the kitchen with my accountant and good friend Darren.
“Hello?” he asked coming through the door.
“I’m in here,” I said from the kitchen.
Tim walked in and was taken back a little when he saw Darren.
“Oh, hello,” Tim said sounding a little shy.
“Tim, this is Darren,” I said.
“Hi, Tim, it’s nice putting names to faces,” Darren said to him.
Tim offered us a cup of tea each and made it for us. He took his own cup and made his way to his room. Darren’s eyes followed Tim out of the room.
“Andrew? Your lodger is… well… a handsome chap; was that an accident by any chance?” Darren asked.
“What on Earth are you accusing me of?”
“Being lonely… and horny.”
“That’s a crime now is it?” We looked at each other and laughed.
“No Darren, he’s a nice lad.”
Darren and I continued to work for about half an hour. I was by the kitchen counter making more drinks and Tim walked back in.
“I didn’t leave me keys in here?” he asked and walked over next to me.
“Doesn’t look like it,” I said back to him. Tim quickly scanned the rest of the room and left again. I finished making the drinks, and I sat next to Darren. He was staring at me.
“What?” I asked.
“He looks like you,” he replied.
“Tim, he looks like you.”
“No he doesn’t,” I said.
Tim walked back in the kitchen and took a bottle of water out of the fridge.
“I left them in my coat pocket,” he said. He turned around and saw Darren and I looking at him.
“Oh-kay…” he said sounding a little freaked out and went back upstairs.
Darren looked at me with a shit-eating grin.
“Yes, yes, he does,” I agreed.
That Friday evening, after diner, Tim and I washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. I poured two glasses of wine and gave Tim one. He was sitting in the living room. We chatted for a bit then Tim finished his wine and made his excuses to go to his room.
“You’re not staying?” I asked.
“Nah, I’ve just bought a game, and I was going to make a start on it.” He walked over to the TV in the corner and started talking in a half joke-half sulk “but of course it would be nice to play on a really big HD TV rather than that postcard sized thing I’ve got.”
“What game is it?” I asked.
“Batman,” he said.
“It’s not racing of football is it?”
“No,” he said flatly. “It’s Batman. You play Batman and beat-up dudes.”
“Oh, go on then, bring your console down. You can’t say I don’t do anything for you.”
“Really? Cool!” he said and headed to the door. “You’re all right for an Englishman, Andy.” I heard him say as he walked towards his room.
He came back down with his console, a controller and a few cables and knelt in front of the TV screen. I walked up to him and Tim flinched and winced when I placed my hand on his shoulder when I asked him if he needed a hand. Tim seemed to do this every time I made any physical contact with him; I wanted to ask him why, but I was sure I wouldn’t like the answer.
We spent the rest of the night getting slowly drunk, and I sat there watching him play his game and offering helpful observations such as: “hit him instead of being hit,” and “you’re not very good at playing computer games are you?” Later into the evening, Tim had moved from the couch onto the floor. I came into the room with some beers.
“So, where’s Robin in all this?”
“What’s that?” he asked not turning away from the screen.
“Batman and Robin,” I said. “Where’s his sidekick?”
“Oh, they probably didn’t include him because he makes Batman gay,” Tim said casually, focusing on the screen.
“You what?” I laughed.
“Robin makes Batman gay. Think about it: who’s Batman’s girlfriend?”
“Erm… he doesn’t have one.”
“Where does Batman live?”
“Oh,” I thought for a second. “Wayne Manor?”
“And who does he live with?”
“Robin… and Alfred, the butler.”
“Right!” Tim said and he paused his game. He turned around to face me. “So think about it: a millionaire lives in this big house and has this butler. He doesn’t live with a woman, but he lives with this younger guy instead. Middle aged man, toy boy and butler. Bruce Wayne is practically living an older gay man’s fantasy,” Tim looked at me. Neither of us spoke. For what seemed like hours.
“Well, this is awkward,” he said.
“What do you mean, Tim?” I asked not trying to sound defensive.
“Well, you’re gay, right?”
“W… w… what you talking about?” I really hated having these conversations.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “You’re a good looking guy, and I find it hard to believe that you’re not married, or divorced, and you don’t have any kids knocking about… and, it’s kinda obvious. I don’t give a shit. It’s cool, and…”
Being ask drunk as I was I couldn’t stop myself from saying what popped into my head.
“…Well what about yourself? I find it hard to believe there isn’t some cute girls where you work. I’ve never heard you try and sneak one in and out of the house in the small hours of the morning. You never talk about any girls you like, and how many times have you gone out with one since you’ve been here?”
“I was getting to that!”
“Am gay too,” he said flatly. Tim sat there and stared at me. Looking sheepishly as if he regretted his homosexual interpretation of Batman. “So…”
We sat there in an awkward silence.
“Look, Tim, this doesn’t mean we have to run upstairs and fuck each other. I wouldn’t anyway; you’re like… family. At least give me a hug,” I sighed. “Let me know what I’m missing out on.” He laughed slightly and got up from the floor. We wrapped our arms around each other and hugged. I felt Tim’s shoulders relax and his whole body ease as if he was in a newly found state of repose – it was as if his body was sighing with relief.
His frame was made of nothing but skin and bone. “Jesus, Tim, I think I need to feed you some more chicken dinners.” I patted his back and he sat next to me.
He sat there for a couple of seconds before finally he picked up his controller and started to play his game again. All that drinking made me sleep sometime after that. I woke at about 1.30 in the morning to Tim turning his game off.
“I’m going to bed. Night, Andy,” he said.
I was practically still asleep.
“Oh, night,” I said and stirred. Tim left the room and left me sitting there. “What the hell happened there?” I thought to myself. “You’re like family.” I must have sounded like an idiot.
Middle aged man and toy boy. No, I didn’t think about Tim that way at all. I wanted us to be like a family. I wanted to do more than cook his meals and iron his clothes. I wanted nothing more than to look after him, and make sure he was all right. I was happy Tim had chosen to live with me, and I didn’t mind picking up after him. I thought to myself how I was treating him more like a big kid rather than the young man that he is.
Shorty after that I went to bed. I stared at the ceiling thinking about Tim again. He was good company and a very nice young man. I made myself comfortable and went to sleep.