Guest Story: Room for Rent, Lodger Required (Final Chapter!)

First, an apology to everyone for the delay in posting this, the final chapter. And a special apology to Anthony who wrote it. (And thanks for the special ‘cameo appearance’ by – well, me!)

Here is it – sadly, the final chapter in an incredible story.To read the previous chapters, click here.

Part Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tim’s baths had become as much a part of our routine as us eating dinner together and me helping him get ready for bed. I had explained to Tim that if he wanted me to bathe him then it would be no later than 9pm or it wouldn’t happen at all.

“You don’t have to go to bed straight after you bath, you know?” I would say to him most nights as he would crawl under the covers after I put his pyjamas on him.

“It’s not as if I’ve got anything to stay up for. I don’t mind, honest,” he would say, and I would find myself tucking Tim into bed by 9.30.

Tim had finished brushing his teeth by the time the bath was filled with hot soapy water. I helped Tim undress, and he stepped into the bubble bath.

“It’s not too hot?” I asked as he placed his first foot in the water.

“No, it’s fine,” he said and sat in the tub. I placed a stool by the bath and sat on it. I took a clean wash cloth and soaked it in the water.

“No splashing about tonight mind!” I said.

“What about if I did… this?” he asked and scooped up a handful of bubbles and wiped them on my face.

“Oh yes, very funny!” I said wiping the foam away with my arm.

As I started to bathe Tim he explained how his day had been. He began to say that his work colleagues had been mocking what he wore to work that day. We had been shopping together one afternoon and he tried on a three piece suit that he wanted to buy. I paid for half of it due to the expense. That morning Tim had no idea why I was smiling widely when I helped him get dressed; he looked like a smaller, younger, cuter version of me.

“I’m not wearing a waistcoat again. By half past ten I lost count of how many people asked me if I was a snooker player.”

“It’s not my fault I make sure you’re immaculate when you walk out the door. Don’t listen to them. I thought you looked stunning.” I began to shampoo his hair and rubbed the baby shampoo suds on the back of his neck and shoulders.

“Steve asked if my boyfriend dresses me,” he said and shook his head.

“And what did you say?”

“He’s not my boyfriend. That seemed to shut him up.” Tim stopped talking and looked deep in thought. “Do you think they know?” he said after a couple minutes of quiet.

“Know what?”

“The way that you look after me. How I’m like… and wear… you know.”

“What makes you think that?”

“The girl I sit next to at work said that I smell like a baby,” Tim said. I smiled at this. Since I started to regularly bathe Tim and change his nappies the smell of baby shampoos, powders and lotions seemed to have lingered on his body.

“Well I think you smell delightful.”

“I’m sure they talk about me behind my back… looking at me.”

“Tim, you’re being paranoid. You don’t wear a nappy at work, and even then they’d only know for certain if I showed up and started changing nappies. There is absolutely no way they know.”

“It’s just that…” he said and tailed off. I knew Tim was having some difficulty with finding a balance of who he is with his friends, peers and co-workers and who he is with me. I could understand Tim’s anxiety about how our relationship had developed in the past several months – I think I too would die of embarrassment if word got out I wore nappies to bed and slept with a teddy bear.

In the couple of weeks since Tim explained to me how he felt I had noticed that his attitude and behaviour had changed. Tim hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol since then and declined to go on a night out with some of his friends despite my insistence for him go and enjoy himself. Tim seemed more than content with a night-in and an early bedtime. I wondered if there was battle of wills going on in Tim’s mind, between who the world expected him to be and the side of him that liked to regress to a more childlike place. I began to think that perhaps that I was to blame for this. I had given Tim a license to explore being this vulnerable, little boyish persona that he seemed to relish experiencing. By the way he acted it was as if he never got the chance to experience this the first-time around, which wouldn’t have surprised me.

I knew there was no chance of anyone knowing what was going on under my roof. I would never tell anyone and I’m sure Tim wouldn’t bring it up. Either way, I was happy to support Tim, no matter what he wanted and what facet of his personality he chose to experience.

“Look, if it bothers you that much, I’ll stop. You can get yourself ready for bed in future if you want.” I said and dropped the wash cloth in the bath and stood up.

“No, don’t!” he said. “Don’t stop.” I smiled and ruffled my boy’s hair and continued to bathe him.

“Can I sleep in your bed again?” he asked.

“No, I think it would be best if you slept in your own bed.”

“Why?” he asked sullenly.

“You’ve slept with me four nights this week. I’m beginning to wonder who’s bed it is. I love having you cuddle up at night, but I can’t have you getting to a point where you won’t sleep by yourself. I know what you’re like.” He looked sad, pouting and pulling the face he knew I couldn’t say no to. “OK, you can sleep in my bed on Friday nights as a special treat… if you’re good,” I bargained.

“But I’m always good,” he insisted. I leaned over and kissed his wet forehead.

“I know you are. You’re a good little boy for Daddy aren’t you?” I said, and I saw a small smile crack on his face.

I finished bathing my boy and unplugged the bath. I got Tim to stand up and I wrapped him up in a fluffy towel and began to rub him dry.

I scooped him in my arms and carried him into his bedroom. I lay him down on the bed and took a thick nappy and slid it under him. I applied some baby powder to his nappy area and I taped it up. I got a clean pyjama top and bottoms from his wardrobe and got my boy dressed for bed. I pulled the covers back for him, and he climbed in. I was about to begin to tuck him in when he leaned over to his bed side table and picked up a novel that was lying there. He handed it to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, thumbing through the pages.

“My bed time story,” he said. I looked at the book and then back at Tim.

“I’m reading you bed time stories now?”

“Yep,” he said. Tim patted a space on the bed next to him and pulled the covers back for me.

I climbed into the bed next to Tim. I pulled the covers over as Tim cuddled up next to me. I opened the book, and Tim sat quietly as I read. I would occasionally glance down at Tim as he was resting against me, staring at the words on the page, his eyes following along with what I was reading.

As we sat there, I glanced over and saw Tim was sucking his thumb. As I continued to read from the page I took Tim’s hand and moved it away from his mouth. Tim dried his thumb and took his hands and wrapped them around me.

After a while I checked my watch and it was getting late. I finished the paragraph that I was on and I closed the book. I looked at Tim. He turned to face me.

“We’ll read some more tomorrow night,” I said.

“OK,” he said and gave me another squeeze. Tim pulled himself up and kissed me on the lips.

I climbed out off the bed and began to straighten the bed sheets and started to tuck Tim in. My boy had already made himself comfortable and was holding on to his teddy bear.

“Night, son,” I said. I leaned forward and we kissed on the lips again. He held his teddy bear up to me.

“And Freddy too,” he said with a smile, I sighed and shook my head.

“Night, Freddy,” and I kissed the bear. Tim put it under his arm and turned over and he closed his eyes. “Night, baby.” I kissed my boy’s forehead, and I turned off the lights and quietly closed the door behind me.

After putting my boy to bed I went downstairs. I made something to drink and switched on the TV. I found a documentary about World War Two battleships and submarines, and I began to watch. Twenty minutes later Tim opened the door and walked in the room.

“What you doing out of bed, sunshine?” I asked.

“You’ve got the TV on too loud, and I couldn’t sleep,” he said.

“Oh sorry, angel face.” I grabbed the remote and turned the TV to a quieter volume.

Tim walked towards me and parked himself on my lap. He placed his arms around me. I started to slowly rub his back as he sat there watching TV with me.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

“I’m just tired,” he said.

I continued to rub Tim’s back as we sat together on the chair. He sat their quietly with his arms around me. Not exactly captivated by what I was watching, Tim yawned and turned his attention away from the TV set and closed his eyes and placed his head on my shoulder.

“You’re a good boy,” I said and kissed him gently. I continued to watch the documentary with my boy sitting on my lap. Neither of us moved for half an hour or so.

I eventually heard the sound of heavy regular breathing. My baby had fallen asleep in my arms. “Let’s get you back to bed,” I said quietly.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Tim came home from work and slammed the door behind him. He dragged himself over to the sofa in the living room and collapsed onto it.

“What’s was all that about?” I asked, walking in to the room seeing Tim lying flat out on the chair.

“Nothing!” he said. He sounded quite upset.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” he replied. Still not moving his head from the sofa. I sat down next to him.

“You don’t seem fine.” I placed my hand on the back of his leg. “You want to tell me what’s up?” Tim sat up and I could see that he was upset about something. “You had a bad day?” I asked, he nodded meekly. His bottom lip quivering. I opened my arms from him and he slid into them.

He began to tell me about the dressing down he received from his boss for something Tim claimed wasn’t his fault, and something that couldn’t have been helped if it was. He seemed really upset by it.

“I wouldn’t have minded, but he started bollocking me in front of everyone,” he finished.

“There’s no need for that.” I looked at Tim and saw a tear was running down his face, I wiped it away. “I wouldn’t let it upset you,” I said, and with that he fell into my shoulder and began to sob.

I was utterly incensed by this. I wanted to find Tim’s boss and smack him one. No one makes my boy cry! I caught myself thinking.

“I didn’t do anything,” he said.

“I know, baby, I know,” I comforted my boy. I put him on my lap. He was still sniffling and upset. “You’re a good boy, Tim, don’t cry.”

Tim sat on my lap and rested his head against me. I stroked the back of his head as he sat.

I looked down at the sad boy in my arms and realised I had lost count of how many times I had done this for Tim. I know that he is not a weak person. Not, as Tim put it himself, “a crybaby”. No, I was certain that when I met him for the first time he was carrying too much emotional baggage. It was only after moving in with me did he realised that he didn’t have to be stoic or bottle-up any feelings or worries because I would be here for him. I would be the one person he could rely on and turn to when things get too tough for him to handle on his own.

I thought back to the time when Tim was poorly and asked me to stay with him whilst he slept, I didn’t know what to make of it then, but thinking back I remembered that I said, “if you need anything,” and thought that was Tim’s way of saying “I just need someone to love me.”

Tim was my baby, my sweet, lovely little boy and I would move Heaven and Earth to make sure Tim was safe, cared for and loved.

“You just sit with me until you calm down.” I kissed his cheek. I began to rock the boy backwards and forwards until he managed to stop crying. “Daddy’s here. You’re going to be OK,” I said, realising that I had never spoken a truer word.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Tell me when it’s safe to look!” he exclaimed, shielded himself for the screen using my arm.

A friend of his at work lent Tim a DVD box set of a television programme about zombies, that Tim, his teddy bear and I would sit cuddled-up together watching.

I looked at Tim, nappy bulging in his bottoms and peeking out from his waist. Tim was cowering away from a scene and it put me in mind of a very small boy. A little boy who was trying to prove how brave and grown-up he was by watching a programme made for adults.

“You can look now, Tim,” I said to him when it was over.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said laughing slightly, and Tim returned his gaze to the screen. He still used my like a human shield to hide everything but his eyes. I held his hand and rubbed it slightly as if to subtly say to him “You’re OK son, I’m here. You’re going to be safe, none of it is real.” Tim slid into me and I felt like I was propping up his weight.

Eventually Tim stopped hiding his face, but still sat clinging to my arm. He began to feel at ease and began to enjoy the programme again. I glanced over at him and saw his slipped his thumb into his mouth.

“Tim, for the last time: stop sucking your thumb! It’s a disgusting habit!” Sitting on the other side of me was Freddy. I picked up the big brown bear and handed him to Tim. “Take this. Keep your hands busy,” I said and Tim took the bear and wrapped it in a hug.

“Right, Tim, I want to go to bed now,” I said when the episode ended.

“How am I supposed to go sleep after watching that?” he asked.

“Well, you have it on good authority that this house is pretty much zombie-proof,” I said as I picked him up and slung him over my shoulder like he was a heavy sack of potatoes and started to walk upstairs. “And besides, it’s safe to say they’d leave you alone. Zombies only eat people with brains.”

“Hey!” he said, sounding offended.

“Come on, you walked right into that one,” I said and took him to his room and tucked him in for the night.

“You want me to wake you up tomorrow?” I asked him.

“No, I’ve got the day off,” he answered.

“Have you?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a days worth of flex. I had to take it otherwise I would have lost it,” Tim explained.

“Aren’t you the lucky one,” I stood there and thought for a second. “You want me to change you into a clean nappy before I leave?” I asked him.

“Yeah,” Tim said quietly. I smiled and straighten the boy’s bedsheets.

“You’ll have to be a big boy for me and clean yourself up when you need to, mind. I will not be best pleased if I come from work and find out you haven’t,” I said firmly.

“OK,” Tim replied.

For the last month of so Tim had been wearing nappies when he was not working during the weekends.

“Can I wear a nappy?” he said one Sunday morning when I was getting him dressed for the day.

“What?” I asked him, making sure I heard him right.

“Can I wear a nappy?” he asked again this time more slowly and staring at the floor in his room.

“Erm… okay. If you want. Lie on the bed, and I’ll get your things,” I said to him. “If you want to start wearing nappies during the day, Tim, we’re going to need to have a chat about removing this,” I said gently tugging at his pubes. “It’ll make everything more hygienic down there,” I stated, thinking that would have helped Tim to think about the ramifications of constant nappy wearing. Tim was not fazed at all by this. I had since then started to diligently shave and removed Tim’s pubic hair.

As Tim had been wearing nappies more and more he seemed to be less conscious of wetting them as it started becoming almost like second nature to him. It was getting to the point where I was getting apprehensive about Tim not being in nappies at home in case he forgot that he wasn’t wearing one. I thought about the reason why I bought nappies for Tim in the first place and realised if I wasn’t so concerned for Tim’s well-being I’m sure I could appreciate the irony.

I would need to sit Tim down and discuss my concerns and maybe about the possibility of only wearing at nights again; however, I knew that Tim liked wearing them. He seemed happiest when he was taped up, and the one thing I will not deny my boy is the right to be happy.

I went into the bathroom and had a quick wash and got myself ready.

After I finished, I decided to quickly check on my boy to make sure he was OK. I walked over to his room and found the door open and his bed empty.

“Tim?” I said wondering where he was – no answer. “TIM?” I shouted, slightly worried. After getting no response I felt somewhat distressed. My mind was going 100 miles a minute. Where is he? Where’s he gone? What’s happened? I left him here! My pulse was racing and my heart was in my mouth. A split-second later I worked out where Tim would be, and I walked quickly to my room and discovered that he was lying in my bed. His eyes closed and holding his teddy.

“What you doing in here?” I asked, the sound of relief heavy on my voice.

“Freddy was scared,” he said as a matter of fact.

“You had me worried for a second, you big softy,” I said to Tim as I climbed into bed and gave him a cuddle.

Chapter Thirty

Tim had been wearing nappies pretty much full time now. As soon as he came in from work he’d be in nappies until I got him dressed for work the next morning. I knew it would only be a matter of time before Tim would need to start wearing nappies at work, but we will cross that bridge when we come to it.

Friday night rolled around again. Tim was looking forward to sleeping with me in my bed, and if truth be told I was too. I was starting to think that my bed was Tim’s Safe Place, and on those nights knowing that I was right beside him and should he need me I’d be there for him.

I was bathing Tim, and we were having a discussion about the spare room and my idea of putting a changing table in there. Tim’s regular nappy changes and baths weren’t doing my back any favours.

“We could stick a crib in there for me too, and a playpen and a box from some toys,” Tim said enthusiastically. I stopped washing him for a second and looked at Tim. I was bewildered about how sincere he sounded.

“You want a nursery?” I asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You want to sleep in a crib?” I asked to double check.

“I thought I was your baby – forever and always.”

I was lost for words. I knew Tim was happy to be treated like a baby to a certain degree. I wasn’t quite sure how far Tim wanted to take it. I knew that Tim liked the fact I was looking after him, and the care that I was providing for him made him happy. If Tim sleeping in a crib was the last piece in making sure that he was truly happy – to be who he is, then so be it.

“OK, son. If that’s what you want,” I agreed.

When bath time was over I drained the tub and wrapped my baby in a towel and carried him into my room. I started to towel him dry. I lay my boy down and began to powder and cream his hairless body.

I opened my dresser. Tim’s birthday was in a couple of days. It was no secret I’d spent a small fortune on my baby’s first birthday. I had bought some things I knew my little baby boy would like. I unfolded a thick nappy with a cute design on and taped him up. I pulled out a white onesie. Tim lifted up his arms instinctively. I guided his head and arms through the holes and pulled it down. Tim realised that what he was wearing was longer than a normal shirt and saw the snaps.

“What’s this?” he asked confused.

“Early birthday presents,” I said.

“Can’t you just give them to me on Tuesday?” he asked.

“No, I want to see how my baby looks in them now,” I said. I gently pushed Tim so he would lie on his back. “This’ll keep everything together and make you nice and comfy.”

I grabbed the back of the onesie and Tim arched his back so I was able to pull it down and fasten the snaps. I dressed Tim in his new absolutely gorgeous little boy pyjamas. I sat on top of my bed and I opened my bedside drawer and pulled out a pacifier for little boys Tim’s size.

“Is that…?” he said when he saw the pacifier.

“It is. That thumb sucking is getting on my nerves.” I handed the pacifier to Tim. I picked up Tim’s book and waited for him to make himself comfortable and we finished our nightly routine.

“We’ve nearly finished that book,” Tim said as he slid next to my arm.

“I know son. We’ll have to find something else to read, won’t we?” I glanced over at the beautiful little boy sitting next to me and leaned over and kissed him.

I read as my baby boy sucked on his pacifier. I read a couple of chapters and put the book away. I got Tim down for the night, made sure he was comfortable and headed for the door.

“Where you going?” he asked concerned.

“I’ve got a couple of things I need to do before bed. Try and get some sleep, little man.” I kissed his head and handed him his cuddly toy. “Look after Freddy Bear for me. I’ll be up again shortly.” I left the room.

I had to a few e-mails I wanted to reply to before I went to sleep. After finishing my errands I sat with my internet browser open. I began to drum my fingers at the base of the keyboard and took a deep breath and typed “Adult Baby, Daddy” into the search field.

I had been doing this for a couple of weeks; after walking into an interesting conversation in the kitchen at my work.

“Do YOU know what Rule 34 is Mr. Northcross?” Adam asked me as I walked in.

“Erm… no, and judging by that grin on your face I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Well, to put it delicately… if you can think about it, it’s on the internet,” he replied.

“What do you mean?” I asked, cleaning the out of date milk from the fridge.

“Everything is on the internet… and I mean EVERYTHING. Anything you can think of. No exceptions.” This got me thinking and wondering whether somebody, somewhere, was having a similar experience to Tim and me. I began to search online to see if that was the case.

I quickly discovered we weren’t alone, far from it. I found a website which summed up all the feelings that Tim had brought out in me. The site also had a chatroom, and since then I had been logging-in a couple of nights a week. This night the site owner was online. He introduced himself, said his name was Josh and that he had been looking after ‘baby boys’ for years.

“Do you have a little one at the moment?” he asked me.

I then started to tell my and Tim’s story. Explaining how we met, his bed-wetting, the nappies, how I started to become a caretaker to him, bath time, story time, naps, nappy checks and everything in between.

“I’ve just got him to bed now. He’s upstairs sucking a dummy and cuddling his bear,” I finished.

“In a crib?” he asked.

“No, but I’m getting him one soon though. He wants a whole nursery.”

“Well, it sounds to me like Tim is a lucky little boy for having a Daddy like you,” he typed.

No, I’m the lucky one for a having a little boy like Tim. I looked at the time, it was 12:45. I had been on my laptop longer than I intended.

“Oh, shit,” I muttered under my breath. I said bye to the chatroom users and logged off and shut down my computer.

I had a quick shower and changed into some boxer shorts and t-shirt – Tim keeps me warm anyway.

I went into my bedroom and saw Tim, sleeping sweetly, sprawled out on his front, bear under arm and pacifier in mouth. He looked simply adorable. He was more than likely wet by now, and I thought a quick nappy check and change couldn’t hurt. I walked over to the bed and placed my hand on my boy’s warm little shoulder and spoke to him soft and gently.

“Baby,” I said waking him up. “Daddy’s going check your nappy. Can you lie on your back for me, sunshine?”

Tim mumbled something about being dry and rolled over. I gently pulled down his cute little bottoms and slipped in a finger and found it to be wet. I unsnapped his onesie and untapped his wet nappy. I cleaned and wiped him down and changed him into a new clean one. Tim just lay there, eyes closed, moving and lifting at the right moments. I snapped him back up and pulled up his pyjama bottoms without too much trouble.

“Clever boy. You’re such a good boy for daddy.”

I climbed into bed. Tim, still half-asleep moved close to me. His nappy crinkling loudly as he moved. He lay right across me and put his head on my chest. He took his dummy out his mouth and hooked it onto his finger and wore it like a giant ring. He rested his hand on the side of my waist and he looked at me with weary eyes.

“I love you, Daddy.”

My heart melted. I held his chin and began to stoke his soft jawline with my thumb. Looking into his big earnest eyes. I leaned over and kissed his forehead and gently guided him down to rest on daddy’s chest again, and wrapped my arms around him.

“I love you too, baby boy.” I lay awake looking at him. Caressing my son as he drifted back into a deep sleep.

Nine months ago Tim was nothing more than a stranger on the street, but since then he changed my life in more ways than I could ever imagine. I looked at Tim, lying happily and carefree. His breathing synchronised with mine.  In my life I’ve had a number of boyfriends, but I never really thought ‘this is the one’ – it’s as if I knew there was always something that was missing. Tim completed me. I loved him more than I thought was possible. I needed him as much as he needed me. I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Even the thought of Tim leaving made my heart break.

Outside the wind roared, and the freezing rain blasted against the windows as the sounds of cars raced to destinations unknown, but in my house, and in my room, in that perfect moment, time seemed to stand still as I knew that nothing could ever break the warm, soft bubble of safety and love that I was providing for my sleepy little baby boy.

The End.