Milk For His Little (The Lactin Brotherhood #12)

13. Kasper

Chapter 13

Kasper

“I’m so sorry, Kasper.” How freaking ominous. What did he do? Did he find a new boy or maybe decided he didn’t want a boy? It felt like the conversation we were about to have was going to be a really bad one. But also, it didn’t feel that way. Not really. I was such a mess. Between the tears and the snot, how was he even snuggling me?

Maybe he wanted me to be in the headspace, and if that were the case, I appreciated it. It was just another way he was looking out for me.

He was so good at taking care of me. He didn’t deserve me holding back the way I had.

“I need to talk to you.” He kissed my head. “I should’ve trusted you right away. And I do trust you, honey, but I was scared.”

That wasn’t what I expected to hear out of him. Not that I knew exactly what he was going to say, but fear? That surprised me.

“Why were you scared, Shawn?” I reached over and took his hand.

“I went to the doctor,” he said.

My stomach dropped, my head spiraling in all sorts of really bad directions. Hiding that you went to the doctor usually meant it was bad. Really bad. Really, really bad. It was the first thing my uncle did when he had the big C. It was the first thing my mom did when she found out my grandfather needed an amputation. No one ever hid that they were going to the doctor because they had the cleanest bill of health or because they finally got their cholesterol under control. No, those were the things people shouted from the rafters.

“I see,” I said. It was the most rational, calm comment I could think of. I didn’t want him to know how nervous I was, but I also didn’t want it to sound like I didn’t care about what he was saying. “And what did the doctor say?”

“Blood pressure. High blood pressure, specifically.”

That was good. I knew about blood pressure. There were medications, there were alternative treatments—it wasn’t a death sentence.

Okay, I can handle this. If it was really bad, Daddy would’ve been put in inpatient care. That had happened to one of my co-workers. This was good. I could handle this.

“Is this unusual?” The words came out wrong, but he didn’t react other than squeezing my hand. “I mean new for you.” He told me how it was genetic and how it had only been a matter of time before he’d need treat, how it ran in both sides of his family, and how he needed to be on pills to keep it under control.

“That’s wonderful, right? It means it’s treatable.”

“Yeah, that part’s great. It’s just... there’s a side effect for the medication they have me on. It doesn’t happen to everyone, but there’s a chance my milk will dry up.”

He watched my face carefully. My response mattered, and honestly, all I could think was: he doesn’t have cancer, he doesn’t have some rare disease, he isn’t going to die. Those were the things that mattered most to me.

I climbed onto his lap so I was facing him and cupped his cheeks, looking him straight in the eyes. “I went my entire adult life before you without having milkies. If I never have another drop until my dying day, that’s okay. But not having you? I wouldn’t be okay with that. I love you, and I know it’s soon, but I do and I’m not taking it back.”

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, my head resting on his shoulder.

“I love you too, my sweet boy. I love you too, and I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier. I just... I spent my life wanting to not be this person, to not lactate. And then finally, I found someone that I care about, that I love, who not only didn’t think it was creepy or gross but that liked it.” He squeezed me even tighter. “And I allowed myself to get into my head too much. I allowed myself to think that... I’m sorry. I promise to be better about talking to you and sharing things with you.”

“Good.” I pulled back so he could see me. “And I’m going to try too. And not just with really cool pictures or nice dinners. I’m going to try to let you know when I’m feeling worried. This is new to me—having someone who I want in all aspects of my life—and I don’t want to mess it up. But I will. I’m good at messing up. It’s a good thing I have a Daddy who can guide me in the right direction.”

“And who’s gonna guide Daddy?”

I shrugged. “We’d probably need to get a dog.”

“Dogs don’t control anybody.” Why did he have to be all logical like that?

“Then a cat. Cats are pretty bossy.” The bossiest. But they were adorable, so there was that.

“That settles it. We’ll get a cat, and we will name them Marvin.” He pressed his forehead against mine.

“Why Marvin?”

“I don’t know. Sounded like a good cat name.”

“Yeah, I guess it does.” I rubbed my cheek against his the way cats do. “And we can call him Marvy.”

I kissed him long and deep, trying to show him all the love I had for him through it.

“Thank you, sweet boy. Thank you for accepting me for who I am.”

“Thank you, Daddy, for loving me. For taking care of me and for trusting me. And for... you know what you’re gonna do next?”

“Oh? What am I gonna do next, exactly?”

I leaned forward and whispered all the naughty things I had planned in his ear and then did them all.