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Liar.
It’s tough not to giggle when Bryce acts so silly. "I don’t mind if you give me a touch. You had all that fun in the tub, after all."
Bryce gnashes his teeth. "That was unexpected. I already told you I didn’t think it’d come out."
Then, he sighs. "And, I’m not going to rub you right now, sweet boy. There are so many more toys for you to play with. So much more fun we can have."
"What time is it, Daddy?"
I can’t see his face because I’m sitting on his lap, but I can tell he’s smiling. "There are no clocks in the cuddle room. It could be midnight, three AM, or noon tomorrow."
I try to wrap my head around this, but I can’t. A sense of wonderment builds inside of me, and my toes curl. It’s possible that the Hug Club is packed with people right now, and that everyone outside the cuddle room door is preparing for Saturday snuggle movie night. It is the second weekend of the month, after all.
I glance around the cuddle room, then blink back a fresh round of tears. Not for the first time since we entered do I take note of all the cute construction designs—the toys, the pictures of trucks, the stuffies.
I leap out of Bryce’s arms, then grab a handful of stuffies. "You’re all my new best friends. You’ll join me and Bob when Daddy brings us to our first site."
When I turn back around, Bryce is teary-eyed.
"Goodness me," Bryce growls, slamming his chest and coughing. "The cutest little hug bug in the world is with me tonight. Isn’t he?"
I smile from behind the stuffies. "My sensitive Daddy. I like you so much."
Except like slips out at the last minute because the word I started with begins with l and o. So what I say winds up sounding like I luh-ike you so much.
Great catch.
Not.
Bryce pats his lap. "Come and sit on Daddy’s lap with those stuffies. Let’s watch a short film I put together last night."
I scurry back to Bryce and sit down. He loops his right arm around my waist, then pulls up a movie on the TV.
It’s a documentary.
Or at least that’s what I think at first.
There’s a giant flat field full of weeds surrounded by a few diggers. Dump trucks carry loads of fresh soil. Cement trucks whir in the background as they prepare to unleash their loads. Working men in orange vests stand by to assist when needed.
Bryce walks onto the site. "Hey, BJ. I’m filming this for our night together at the Hug Club. I know how much you want to come onto a job site, and so I decided to bring one to you. Today, I’ll show you exactly what we working guys do when we’re building a new building. This is one that I’m working on for underhoused LGBTQ+ families. It can be tough for them to find affordable housing because property managers who handle the renting process frequently discriminate against them because of who they are. Real estate is still a predominantly straight industry, but the fact is that property doesn’t see sexual orientation. It sees one thing: love. The love a family brings to it. The decorations they hang on the walls, the stuffies they place on the shelves."
Bryce blows a whistle and the job site buzzes with action.
The men controlling the diggers (I like to think of diggers as living entities but I guess people do ultimately drive them) move them to the center of the field. They dig up dirt and weeds, then pour the scoopfuls into the dump trucks.
I quiver on Bryce’s lap, my body shaking with anticipation. A strand of drool trickles out of my mouth as my eyes glaze over, and I quickly bring my thumb to my lips as I focus.
I clutch Bob with my left hand as I suck my thumb with my right. I’m so entranced by this job site that the entire outside world has faded away.
The only thing I still feel is Bryce. His cozy body beneath me, his arm around my waist.
"Look, BJ." TV Bryce points to a dump truck. "This truck is going to bring the parts of the old foundation that it dug up to the dump yard. Can you say dump yard?"
Real Bryce turns to me. "Well, can you?"
I face Real Bryce. "Shy."
Real Bryce smiles as he kisses my nose. "Did Daddy’s nose kissy help?"
