Before I die I want to meet The One talk for hours hours become smitten go on dates fall in love hold hands move in together get a dog plan our future propose get legally married buy a house become parents start a business thrive as we live happily ever after ….but right now I just want to kiss him until my lips go numb.
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Text is fictional.
There’s a photo I keep folded in my wallet. When smartphones
became a thing, I slid it between my phone and the case. It goes everywhere with me, a treasure thing. That print is a copy though, as is the 8 x 10 facsimile on the mantel in my parents’ living room. I
keep the original in a safe deposit box. The negative is long gone, and
if I lost the original cause I’d lost my phone, I’d be devastated.
I first saw the picture when I was 11. We had
been talking about genealogy in school and my parents took out the
albums to show me old family photos. Each of my parents had their own
albums, up until when they met, and then they merged into one. This photo
however, didn’t have its own page. It was in an envelope, with other
miscellaneous photos from college tucked in the back of an album. When I saw it, I
snatched it up from obscurity.
I still remember that when I first
saw it, I felt completely still. When you’re a child on the cusp of
becoming a self-aware individual, you begin to notice more and more how
your parents interactive with each-other. My parents had always been
close. Mushy, even. When I became into a teenager, I rolled my eyes a
lot and made lots of huffing noises about how they were embarrassing me, gawd! Still,
I was mostly giving them a hard time because I refused to let them see
how much that picture had impacted me. I was scared I would never find
someone who loved me like that.
Their lips aren’t even
touching in the shot, maybe an inch away. Their eyes are closed, and
they’re leaning into each-other. Daddy’s hand’s curled around Papa’s shoulder. Papa is pressed up against Daddy. The kiss is inevitable. What I like most about
them is how natural they look, so casual. Nothing is forced, or cheesy,
or over-thought out. They’re not holding hands or gazing into
each-other’s eyes like Disney characters. They’re just…them.
Papa has told me the backstory so many times I have memorized it by heart:
This was taken in 1958. It says so on the back, so it’s right. We’d just finished our sophomore year of university. Eddie
had a good part-time job at the auto repair center, and he’d repaired
this truck that came in with a bad transmission. Since the owner’s son
was back for the summer and could take over Eddie’s work, we decided to
take a summer road-trip before school started again.
First, we drove from upstate New York to Indiana to visit Eddie’s dad’s side of family. From
there, we just drove West, to see Yellowstone, and even though our
butts were sore, we kept going all the way to see the
Redwoods in California. And it was under one of those big trees that your Daddy asked
to marry me, even though it was a ridiculous idea and illegal at the
time. [pause as Papa swallows his emotions] I must have been in
high heaven after that or something, cause I don’t remember anything
until until we made it to the ocean; we camped there for a few days
cause the truck’s oil pan was leaking and there was some problem with
the radiator.
The drive back was really long. We were both so sick of
each-other when we finally got back to New York. [insert a laugh here] We
didn’t see much of each-other over the rest of the summer, cause we
were both working, but we moved in together for our junior year and
after that it was ok again. [pause] My roommate at the time,
Judie, took this photo of us right before we left as a commemorative
shot. I looked her up some time ago. She married a banker and did
alright for herself. When I told her we were still together and had
adopted, she was not surprised one bit. Yeah…those were the days. God, Eddie was so devilishly handsome at that age with all that tussled blond hair wasn’t he? [at this point, Eddie says: ‘What, I’m not still devilishly handsome?” and they laugh]
What’s
also ridiculous is that it now looks like this photo could have been
taken yesterday. It’s hard to believe that the
shot and the people in are now over fifty years old. I never tire
of looking at it though, because like love my parents share, the photo
is timeless.
__________________________________________________________
Text is fictional. Tracked the photo to Instagram but no IDs beyond that.
“Back straight. There we go. Great posture.”
“Thank you Sir.”
I nod, even though he can’t see it. “You know why you’re sitting there in a time out?”
“…for mouthing off?” Joel asks.
“Yes, good, boy. But that’s just it…you are still a boy. My boy. You’re young, in college. Life is full of hard work for you, but it’s still a time of play. I’m a man now. I’m all grown up, and play time has been taken up mostly by work. I know when I come home, you’re very eager to see me and you want to play. I know you’ve been waiting all day. So have I. Your waiting isn’t more or less worse than my waiting. Just because I need a minute to unwind, doesn’t mean you should get smart with me or say nasty, passive-aggressive things. It turns me off to hear ugly things come out of your pretty mouth. And forcing me to ravish you before I’m refreshed only cheapens it. You should be aware boy… I’m terrified of letting you down.”
“…Sir?” Joel asks softly, turning his head.
“Eyes forward,” I say gently.
Joel snaps his head forward and shifts a bit.
“I want to live up to your expectations. I know you’re a very horny boy. I know your pussy is hungry. I know how much you love my cock.”
“And how much I love you,” Joel adds softly.
I pause and sigh softly. Disciplining boys is sometimes so hard. “I love you too,” I say. “So much, it’s hard to imagine how I lived without you before. You know that. I just want to make sure when we are making love, that we’re both 100% on board, ready and eager. You’ll learn patience as you get older, Joel. I just have to nip this bossy, demanding behavior in the bud before you turn fully spoiled. That’s why you’re in time out. Next time you think of saying something impulsive and ugly, you’ll think of being in time out and how much you hate it.”
“Thank you Sir. You’re right. I don’t think clearly when I’m horny.”
I nod again, although Joel still can’t see me. “I think that’s hot by the way.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Means you need me, bad. I like that. I just…have to be a grown up man first sometimes, and your lover second. You know, for your own good.”
My boy’s shoulders relax. “Yes, for my own good. I’m seeing that now.”
“Good boy. You have fifteen more minutes in time out. You can cross your legs if your knees are cramping.”
“Fifteen?” Joel protests. “It was fifteen minutes when we started. Should be ten by now!”
“Well yes, but your hat reminded me. The San Francisco 49′ers beat the Colts in overtime last night due to the poor call by the ref on that fumble. You sided with the ref,” I reminded him.
Joel groaned, and I swallowed a laugh. Ok, being a grown-up could be fun sometimes.
_________________________________
Text is fictional. I think this is the OP.
New favourite couple
“Oh my god, you’re actually going to kiss me.”
“Why are you grinning so hard yet cowering at the same time?” I tease.
“I – I don’t know! Because this is hilarious. And weird. And…I dunno.”
“Do you not want me to kiss you?”
“I don’t know! I mean, I’m straight but I…dunno,” Arturo giggles.
“God straight boys are so silly,” I chuckle. I lean forward, trapping him with two hands against the wall.
“Wait wait!”
“What?” I ask, finding it impossible not to smile although I’m a little exasperated.
“…No no, just do it,” Arturo replies. His cheeks must hurt by now. He hasn’t closed his mouth in like ten minutes.
“Ok fine,” I say with a shrug. His body language is confusing. His legs are forward but he’s leaning back, hands crossed over his chest like a mummy. Arturo’s tense. Nervous. He’s also really cute and looks great in blue. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
He giggles nervously. I feel like I”m at summer camp. I put my hands on either side of him and lean in, trapping him. He doesn’t turn his hed away. Our eyes meet momentarily. I close mine, and kiss him. His lips are firm and I can smell his cologne. I get a buzz immediately. To my surprise, he doesn’t blanch or pull away.
“Mnn…nnnf,” Arturo says.
I cup his chin and kiss him again. His arms relax.
“Mnnn…” he sighs.
Finally, I relent and break away. “…And that’s it,” I say cheerfully.
He blinks slowly and rubs his lips. “That uh…that was…different. I could feel your stubble a little.”
“Was it bad?” I asked, tilting my head.
“…I don’t know. It was different. Oh my god I can’t believe I just got kissed by a guy.”
“You said you were curious!”
“I did! And now I don’t know what to do with that information.”
I backed off and gave him some space. “Well, you’re a man now. You lost your bet and paid the price.“
Arturo looks pleased with this information. “And I’m still straight.”
“Well, good for you,” I reply, feeling a little disappointed.
“…Hey Marcus?”
“Yeah?”
“I have a question. I mean, not related to anything.”
”Go on,” I urge, folding my arms.
“Is it still gay if you just like to kiss guys? I mean, not have sex with them?”
I tilt my head. “Yeah, it’s call being a homo-romantic, heterosexual.”
Arturo’s face goes blank. “…A homo what now?”
“Oh straight boys. Come here Arty, sit down on the edge of the tub. We’re gonna have a little chat. And trust me, there is nothing wrong with kissing boys. Especially the way you kiss.” I watched him turn red, but I didn’t feel bad for enjoying it as much as I did.
____________________________________________
Text is fictional. From sense8, the tv show, apparently.
I listen to him cough and hack. I rub his stomach and he groans. “I’ve been taking medication, why won’t the coughing stop? My muscles are so sore,” Per laments.
“Oh you’re awake. My poor baby, you can’t even nap. I’m sorry cleaning out my mom’s attic gave you bronchitis.”
“It’s not your fault. It was fun, and I love your mom.”
I chuckle. “She loves you too.”
He interrupts in another coughing fit. I wipe away the tears from his eyes. Per breathes slow and hard. “Ow,” he whimpers.
I pat his back. “There there.”
Per sighs. “What are you doing in bed with me anyway? Isn’t bronchitis contagious?”
“I’ll take my chances. Besides, you’re helpless, vulnerable, and also shirtless. You’re also stuck, and weakened, unable to fight me off. So, the cuddle monster got you.”
He chuffs. “Is that so?”
“Yess. You are stuck. You are so damn active all the time that you rarely sit still long enough for me to cuddle the hell out of you. So, I’m getting my time in now.”
Per thinks. “Yeah that’s true. Half the time we spoon at night, we either fall asleep right after or end up fucking.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Ha! No, that’s a very good thing. Matter of fact, when I get better, the first thing I’m gonna do is make up on all that sex we’re missing.”
“Are you now?” I ask, intrigued.
“Hell yeah. But maybe somewhere other than the bed. I’m gonna be sick of spending the day in bed by then.”
“Maybe outside? In a nice meadow somewhere? On a picnic?”
Per stretches, then curls again. “That’s a nice idea. I’ll ask my brother if we can borrow his horses and may–” his lungs seize and he begins hacking again. I comfort him as he spits into a tissue. “Uuughhhh…”
“My poor Per. Why don’t I draw you a hot bath? It might help loosen up all that crap in there.”
“A bath?…That sounds really wonderful actually. Will you bathe me?”
I pause. “Why is that idea so hot?”
Per suppresses a cough. “I dunno. I wouldn’t mind being treated like a King for a day though.”
I swat him on the shoulder. “Just because you have a Prince Albert, it doesn’t make you royalty.” I feel his body tremble with laughter, but that triggers another fit and I assure him through it.
“I miss having normal conversations that aren’t interrupted,” Per grumps.
“Ok, big boy. Let’s get you into the bath.”
“Can I have a cup of chocolate milk too?”
“Anything you want.” I kiss him on the same spot I swatted.
“Alright, get me up.”
I sit up and coax him upright. “Which part up?” I tease.
“Uh, both please?”
“Want me to jerk you off in the bath too?”
Per twists around to look at me. “That’s an option too?”
“Yep, as long as it doesn’t make you cough too much.”
He blinks. “I need to get sick more often.”
_________________________________
Text is fictional. Per is a Swedish name.
A young pet.
“Aww, you look so frightened. My poor pet. The first few days are always so scary. Don’t you worry, I’m not going to torture you and lock you in a cage downstairs. That is, unless you want me to.” His eyes go wide. I try not to laugh at how easily he scares.
“You must be hungry. That was a long trip to my home from the auction center wasn’t it? Ah, you nodded. Haven’t found your voice yet hm? We’ll work on that. Well, lucky for you I made some pork congee last night. You probably don’t know what that is. It’s like Chinese comfort food, but once you add bok choy, it’s also perfect pet food – protein, vegetables, rice.“ I take a portion out of the fridge and put into his bowl, then pop it into the microwave. “Now some Masters don’t heat up their pet’s food, but honestly cold congee is disgusting and I wouldn’t wish that anyone, not even a pet.”
Out of the corner of my eye I see a teeny smile. “Thank you Sir,” he says oh-so-softly.
“Good boy,” I say gently in return with nod. He shifts. It must be hard for him to sit on the floor, with how boney his butt is. I make a note to get him a pillow so he can sit on the floor next to my chair at breakfast. “After you eat, I’m going to groom you – bath, hair, nails. You desperately need a haircut. Then, I’ll give you your wardrobe, show you your quarters, give you a tour… so much to do.” The microwave beeps. I take out the congee and stir it, then pop it back in.
“Maybe we’ll go on a walk so you can stretch your muscles. I’ll guide you through dinner, and then perhaps if you’re not falling asleep we can start on your first Mandarin lesson?”
He blinks owlishly.
“You were told I live in Shanghai and Hong Kong December through February right?”
“No Sir,” he responds.
I raise an eyebrow. “Huh. Well, I do. And I expect you to be able to communicate with my guests and serve their needs there too.” The microwave dings again. “Ah there we go.” I set the bowl down and fill a matching tin cup with water. I can hear his stomach growl from here. “Now you will have to earn your silverware, but you knew that. Let me get a cushion from the living room for your knees though. I don’t want bruises on you.” I fetch the flattest one I can find from the sofa.
I crouch next to him and set it down, then unlock his hand cuffs. “There you go. Eat up boy. Don’t worry about a mess. You’re getting a bath when you’re done anyway.”
He licks his lips. “Thank you Sir.”
I pat him on the head. “Good pet. I like that you know respect and manners. Saves me from having to break you in. Now, eat, eat. You don’t want it to get cold.”
I stand back and watch him bring the bowl to his face and eat. I then fold my arms. “Hm, now to come up with a name for you…”
_____________
Text is fictional.
Every morning while I make breakfast, Toby pads into the kitchen and wraps his arms around me. I can faintly smell the toothpaste on his breath. Sometimes if I stand in one place long enough, he’ll doze off on me. If I move, he’ll just follow me. It’s pretty adorable.
And to think, I almost made him leave once. I found him on the side of the highway, cold and hungry and scared. He’d gotten into a specialized veterinary-focused community college 300 miles from home, and had no way to get there. His parents found out he was gay and disowned him soon, then kicked him out, leaving him entirely stranded. So, he started walking.
I think the world works in ways I don’t quite understand, because I live five miles from that college. I was on my way back from visiting my parents. Him staying with me was supposed to be temporary until Toby figured things out, but my roommate decided to move in with his girlfriend, leaving me with a vacancy…
I stir the contents of the pot and put the lid on. I’m making him jambalaya with kielbasa for lunch. I check on the bacon draining in papertowel. It’s cool now.
“Hunter?” he murmurs.
“Yeah?” I ask, rubbing his arm affectionately.
“Thank you.”
“For what? Bacon?”
He chuffs in my ear. “No…for stability. For quiet. It’s s’nice here. I love you Hunter.”
I swallow, hard. I squeeze his hand and press a kiss to his fingers. ‘I love you too Toby. You’ll never be stray again.”
Toby nuzzles me between my shoulder blades. “Good. Cause even if you put me out, I’ll still come beg at your door.”
I smile. “Good. Cause my bed isn’t the same without you in it.”
Toby sighs gently and then I hear his breathing slow. He’s fallen asleep again. Poor thing. He’s just not a morning person. I stand there, patiently, nibbling on my bacon and eggs and checking Reddit on my phone. After fifteen minutes, Toby wakes up just long enough for me to make him eat his breakfast before I have to put him down for a nap.
When I get back from classes at University, I am astonished to find the apartment looking spotless.
I find a note on the counter: “Thanks for lunch and for the nap <3 I needed the rest, I was up so late studying for today’s lab test. I feel like I’m gonna do great. Don’t wait for me for dinner, I’m going to be out in Amerville for farm study, and I have my 8pm make-up lab today. By the way – my teacher is trying to rehome baby bunnies someone left in a box here. Do you want a bunny?”
I run my fingers through my hair and chuckle. Strays taking home strays. I have a feeling by the time Toby becomes Dr. Toby Mallory our home is going to be a zoo. Maybe that won’t be such a bad thing.
I send Toby a text: “Pick the runt.”
An hour later he sends me a photo of him cuddling a tiny black fuzzball. My heart melts, and I set it as my new phone wallpaper.
________________________________
Text is fictional.
We were playing about with one of the leads I made at work earlier.
Simon took a picture ^_^Totally cute! *wruff*
I have an overwhelming urge to give this pup a cookie.
There is praise I can never give you, for there are not words, or emotions, or smiles to convey how much I am grateful for you. You somehow, always, telepathically know when I’m at my worst. It’s usually after therapy, but sometimes just for no reason. Those are the days when the medication isn’t working, and I just can’t get out of bed. I don’t know why you want to be with a guy suffering from clinical depression. I mean, I love you, but it’s hard for me to show it. I don’t feel like I deserve to love you, or if I’m even loving you right at all, because I don’t feel many emotions. I mostly feel just negative ones. I always feel unworthy of you.
Yes, I know that release of endorphins and hormones from sex is healing and therapeutic. You know that making me have release can help wash my brain of the crap inside so that the drugs can move in and start working. I just struggle to initiate it. I mean, I struggle to lift my spoon. And yet you somehow, magically, see every time when I need it the most. You swap out my underwear for jockstraps while I’m showering and so of course, I put them on. I feel sexier that way, which enforces a positive body image. Still, I just can’t make myself go after you but you always, always come to me.
You climb into bed with me and pry me off of the pillow. You scoop me into your arms and kiss me, like I’m Sleeping Beauty. You make me feel treasured, and curiously flattered when your hand squeezes my ass. You rub against me and make me forget everything – how depressed I am, how deep in debt I am, how bleak my future is. You remind me that my future has you in it too, and just maybe, I can climb out of this hole.
Your embrace becomes this warm envelope of hope and humanity. You turn my sorrow into silk. For that, and all the ways you’ve supported me, I will always love you. And because of that, I have stopped thinking about suicide; because if the afterlife is absent of you, I do not want to go.
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Text is fictional. “You turn my sorrow into silk” is a lyric from giselle’s Silk. The Favored Nation’s remix is pretty good too. By the way, if any of you have suicidal thoughts, please call 1-800-273-8255 or your nation’s helpline.
On me demande souvent “à quoi ressemble la vie quotidienne avec mon puppy ?”.
Il faut le faire jouer, le nourrir, le câliner et le laisser découvrir 😉I am often asked “how is my everyday life with my puppy?”.
It must plays, be fed, be cuddled and let it out 😉
Gosh, this pup is SO cute! Dinner looks yummy, too.