Tag: hurt/comfort

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

vallentiro14:

Luke texted Amir the next day after hooking up again: “Strange question. Piggy is missing. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that would you?
Amir texted Luke a photo back: “Me?”
Luke called Amir. “You stole Piggy??”
Amir dissolved into giggles “If you want her back, come over here and fuck me.”
“You thief! How did you even get her out of my house?”
“You were in the bathroom, and I snuck it out when I put my duffel in the car.”
“You sneaky naughty bottom.”
“It was her idea.”
Luke snorted. “I am coming over there right now. And I am putting you over my knee.”
Amir groaned. “Oh yes punish me. Tell me I’m a bad boy.”
Luke paused. “I didn’t realize you were into getting spanked.”
“You never asked.”
“Fuck. I’m packing an overnight bag. Be there in a bit.”
“Piggy and I will see you soon~~” Amir hung up.

Luke showed up forty five minutes later to find Amir in his underwear, waiting for him. He insisted on seeing Piggy first. When he picked up his favorite stuffed animal, he immediately noticed something was different. “Wait. She’s fluffier. What did you do to her? Wait, the hole in her neck is gone too. Is this my Piggy?”
Amir smiled. “It is. My mom is great at sewing. We undid more stitches, took the old stuffing out, washed Piggy and dried her in the sun. Then we restuffed her, and fixed the hole. We saved the stuffing if you want it for some reason, but it was really old and smelled awful.”
Luke was floored. He turned Piggy over in his hands and then squished her in a hug. “I can’t believe it. Why – but why would you do this for me?”
“Your birthday is this weekend right?”
“Yeah it is.”
“Ok, good, I was right. It’s an early birthday gift. Last month, you made a comment about how you were sure you were going to have to put Piggy on a shelf because she was falling apart. You seemed really sad. I know your mom gave her to you and it means a lot. So I came up with an idea to get Piggy a spa day for your birthday. Just…hoped you wouldn’t kill me for it.”
“No, I love it. I’m really really touched actually.” Luke crushed Amir in a hug with Piggy between them. He sniffled. “Thank you, this is a really nice birthday gift. I was really sad Piggy was falling apart. I know it’s silly to still sleep with a stuffed animal at my age but-”
Amir cupped Luke’s chin in his hand. “You’re never too old. Especially since you lost your mom at such a young age. She would be happy you loved it so much.”
Luke smiled and wiped a tear from his eye. “I hope so. I miss her. When she gave this to me before her trip, I never imagined she’d never come home.” Luke sighed. He looked at Piggy for a moment and drifted into a memory. Amir was patient. After a short period, Luke shook his head a little, coming back into the moment. He held up Piggy until she was eye level. “Man, she’s so fat now. She was basically flat before. Lookit how squishy she is. Squishy squishy squishy.”

Amir giggled. “Am I getting pushed out of the bed now because you have a new fat girlfriend?”
Luke swatted him on the arm. He put Piggy on the nightstand. “No, you’re the one I want in this bed. But she’s gonna watch.”
Amir laughed. “Nooo that’s so fucked up.” He turned the stuffie so it faced the wall.
“So now I have to look at her ass when I’m fucking you?”
Amir laughed harder. “Maybe I should put her back in my duffel bag.”
“Nooooo. No more kidnapping her. I’ll put her in the kitchen. Away from this den of sin.”
“Den of sin?? Are you serious.” Amir followed Luke into the kitchen; Luke perched her on the kitchen table.
“Oh I’m serious,” Luke said. “And speaking of sin, I hope you cleaned yourself before I got here, cause I don’t want to waste any time. I want to do enough things to you that you’re not getting any sleep tonight.”
Amir’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t know you had such a dominant side of you.”
Luke smirked. “You never asked.”
“I’m starting to think we’ve wasted our time together in bed just fucking when we could be doing more things…”
“Like spankings?”
“Are you still spanking me after all this?”
“You bet. But then I am rewarding you for this very kind gift.”
Amir ran his palm down Luke’s arm and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Promise?”
“Promise.” Luke hooked his finger into Amir’s underwear and dragged him back into the bedroom.

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Captions are fictional.

by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

7rahaf:

I wake up just before dawn with a start. This sometimes happens when he’s not in bed with me. I glance over at Joel’s empty spot in bed, note the laptop there, and gaze around the room. I slide out of bed, put a hoodie on, and walk out the door to the wrap-around balcony of the beach house we rented. Joel is leaning against the railing, peering blankly at where the water meets the sand.

“Joel?” I say softly.
He looks up at me. “She’s gone,” Joel whispers. His shoulders sag and he bursts into tears. I blink, stunned, still half asleep. I pad over and put my arm around him. He turns toward me and melts against my hoodie; I wrap him in a big hug as his tears soak the fabric.
I don’t say anything, I just hold him. His mother had been on hospice with liver failure after years and years of drinking. Joel had been waiting for his mother to get sober – and stay sober – since he was 5. He had taken it personally, that she just couldn’t get sober for him. He’d been in therapy for a while. But when she got the diagnosis, Joel knew she’d only be sober once she ended up in the hospital. It’s not the victory he wants.

We had scheduled this vacation months ago, and we knew the risk she would pass away during this time – but Joel said he wanted to go on the trip. He was tired of adjusting his whole life for someone who put alcohol first. He knew he wouldn’t get the redemption he needed at her hospital bed.

“What happened?” I ask after he calms down. I assume his half-brother Sam had e-mailed him. Sam isn’t a fan of long texts.
“Sam said she crashed, and they took her into the hospital, but she passed away.” Joel hiccups. “She died,” he adds, seemingly to himself.

I expect him to start crying again, but he doesn’t. “Do you want to go home?” I ask.
“No,” Joel says in a firm tone. “Sam is handling things. The funeral will be when we get back. We’ll gain nothing by leaving early. And I like it here.”
The sun breaches the horizon and begins to push away the deep violet sky.
“My first day without her,” Joel murmurs. “It’s over. It’s actually over. She’s gone.”
“It is. Do you want some time by yourself? or to come back to bed?”
Joel shakes his head. “I think I want to go for a walk on the beach.”

“Ok. Let me go put on some shorts. Come back inside and drink some water.”
Joel nods and follows me in like a puppy.

We have a drink, change, and go for a walk. We hold hands but don’t talk much. Joel needs time to process this. But somehow we both abate at this moment when the sun breaks through the morning marine layer, creating this backlit glow to these pink and grey clouds that is simply ethereal. The entire ocean glistens like molten glass.

“Wow,” I murmur. When I look back at Joel, he’s kneeling in front of me. Joel kneels asks me to marry him. I say yes, and the scenery blurs together.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

Nash opened his eyes and blinked slowly. A ceiling. It was blurry. Someone moved into his vision, someone wearing a face mask and glasses.
“Nash, squeeze my hand if you can hear me?”
Nash wondered if the woman was talking to him. The woman used his name, but he felt completely detached from reality. Like he was there, but not in a body. He was unaware where any of his limbs where, so he told his brain to squeeze a hand. To his surprise, he felt some pressure in his right hand. It exhausted him. The lights were bright and thinking was hard. The beeping was annoying. There were other people…figures…somewhere.
“Very good Nash,” the woman with the facemask and glasses said. “Can you say something for us?”
Nash made a vocalization in his throat. His whole mouth was parched; there was a bitter, stale taste and his tongue felt like cotton. “Water,” he mouthed. Out of the left side of his vision, a straw came into view and was pressed to his lips. He latched on with a baby’s instinct and drank. It felt like he was drinking silver, cold and bright, down into his stomach. Nate closed his eyes. Everything was so bright. He was also becoming aware of a dull pain in what he was pretty sure was his leg.

He worked his mouth a few times, and felt like the Tinman from Wizard of Oz working himself after a good oil. “Where am I?” Nash slurred.
“You’re in St. Mary’s Hospital. You were hit by a drunk driver last night, coming home from a New Years Eve party. We’ve kept you in a coma overnight, but we’ve woken you up now that your brain scans are better.”
Nash wondered if the woman in the facemask and glasses was talking to him or someone else. He wasn’t in a car accident last night – he didn’t remember being in a car accident last night.
“My leg hurts,” Nash said. He wasn’t sure why those words came out of his mouth, but perhaps it was to remind this doctor person that he was a different patient and give him the real story.
“We can give you some more morphine. You broke your femur, Nash. You had surgery on it, but it will still hurt although it’s put back together.”
“Are you…talking to me?” Nash managed, although it came out in one word.
“Yes,” the doctor said with a chuckle. Her eyes crinkled at the corners.
“My leg hurts,” Nash repeated. It was becoming uncomfortable now.
“The nurse is coming to give you more pain relief, don’t worry. Anything else hurt?”
“My head. It’s so bright.” He raised a hand to rub his chest absentmindedly.
“You hit your head on the windshield, so you have a bruise there. Does your chest hurt?”
“Burns a little,” Nash answered.
“From the seatbelt, or the airbag.”
“Oh.” He felt himself drifting off. “I’m tired.”
“You can rest. Your family is on their way here.”
“Sounds serious.”
The doctor chuckled again. “It is.”
“What about the man?” Nash squinted up at the doctor.

The doctor’s forehead crinkled like a bulldog’s. “What man?”
“The man – the man, who was with me.”
“You mean one of the medics who rode with you to the hospital? There weren’t any passengers in your car, as far as I’m aware.”
“No,” Nash insisted. He still didn’t remember the crash, but in this memory he was in a car. Or at least he was pretty sure it was a car, but it didn’t quite look like one – the angles were wrong and stuff was in the wrong place.
The edges of the memory was dark and grainy. He exhaled and winced. His chest hurt. Nate rubbed it again and left his hand there. “The man- he was talking to me. In the car. He was all white.”
“I can see if one of the medics was a white man,” the doctor suggested.
“No,” Nash insisted. This was so frustrating and he was so tired. “He was all white. Like a lightbulb. He kept telling me to stay still and everything was going to be ok. I was going to be ok.”
“Your medic was probably wearing a headlamp, or it may have been the ambulance overhead lights backlighting the paramedic.”
Nash whined in irritation. This was maddening. “No. He was glowing, like a lightbulb. He said…he apologized, that it had to be this way so I could meet my soul mate.”
The doctor was out of Nash’s view, typing something on a computer. “Soul mate?”
“Yeah. Said there was a man. We’d been together many times before, but the story line was wrong this time so they had to fix it.”
The doctor stopped typing. “I’m sure the medics in the ambulance gave you a drug like ketamine, and that can be a trippy experience, Nash. Your brain had a hard bang against your skull too. You will likely not remember anything of the crash, and your brain will try to fill in the gaps, sometimes incorrectly. The nurse is going to give you more pain killers. Try to rest ok? We’ll wake you again when your family arrives.”

Nash sighed and closed his eyes again. He was too worn out to be frustrated. He’d try to think of a way to make the doctor understand that she was wrong, completely wrong.

The background beeps and foot shuffles and chatter melted into white noise. Something cold began to circulate through the tube in his arm, up his arm, into his body. The pain in his leg faded and it was sublime. Nick exhaled again, in relief this time. The memory was solidifying a bit.
The white man was sitting on the crumpled hood of the car, talking to Nash. A classic American boy with a nice smile and tousled brown hair. So bright…yet it didn’t hurt to look at him, Nash realized. He felt peaceful looking at him. Nash was sure the medics would have seen him too and spoken to him. They’d clear this all up. Ah, peace.

Nash fell asleep.

When he was woken up later to meet his family, Nash was more coherent. One of the medics who had been with him had brought another patient in the hospital in the meanwhile, and was questioned. The medic hadn’t seen what Nash described. A traumatic hallucination, they called it.

That night in the hospital, Nash had dreams. Dreams of being in different places, wearing different clothes, talking in the different languages. Like flicking through the TV, just lingering on channel long enough to decide you don’t like it and click! new channel. But Nash wanted to stay on the channels. There was another man with him in each of the “channels”, one he hadn’t seen before but who looked familiar. So familiar. Not the lightbulb man. Different man. The man in his dreams had a beard.
Nash thought if he could just stay on a damn channel long enough, he’d identify him. Get a name. Clear it up. But he never could. The dreams stopped after Nash was discharged home two days later.

Four years later, Nash met a bearded man with the same face as the man in his hospitals dreams. He said Nate looked familiar too, and asked if he wanted to get a coffee. Nate agreed as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

slavepunkcunt:

swaggerpunk:

…two biker boys in luv.

They could both fuckin do me!

“Hey Jinx, you made good time.”
“Hello Master Schwinn. Yeah I was worried the roads would be too wet, but they dried pretty well.”
“That’s good to hear. Like your outfit by the way, the red laces are a nice touch.”
He straightens up. “Thank you Sir! Leather is so great for riding – keeps me safe, warm, and looking cool as fuck.”
I chuckle. I turn to call over my shoulder. “Boy, Jinx is here!”
“Coming! Just finishing up packing.”
I turn back to Jinx. “You want something to drink?”
“No thank you, I got some water on the bike.” He sets his helmet on my wicker chair, then takes out a cigarette and lights it out of habit. Jinx glances up at at me but soon sheepishly averts his eyes. “I’m down to two a day, Sir, I swear.”
“From a pack?” I nod.
“Yes Sir.”
I nod again. “Well that’s good progress. Good job, boy.”
“I’m really trying. I know Fitz just got over the bronchitis, so I don’t want to irritate his lungs. Just, ya know, under a lot of stress.” He sighs.
I nod as a habit. “Yes. I am stressed out too. But I think everything is going to be ok. Once we get Fitz out of this city, I’ll feel a lot better.”
Jinx turns his head to blow the smoke away. "I’ll feel better too. I promise you Sir, I’ll look out for him. I’ll take care of him. Not a lot of money being in uni at all, but with the donations, we’ll be ok.”
I can’t help but smile. “You’re going to grow into such a great Dom, Jinx. Your compassion is going to be your secret to connecting with your boys. They will be butter in your hands. I can’t wait to see it.”
That makes Jinx turn pink. “Oh Sir, I can’t call myself a Dom. I know hardly anything.”
“You’ll grow into it,” I assure him. “It’s part of you.”
Before Jinx can stammer a reply, Fitz shows up and sets his bag down. “Thank you for waiting. My stupid dildo turned on at the bottom of my bag, and I had to empty everything to turn it off.”
That makes Jinx giggle and he puts out the cigarette. “You poor thing, as if you aren’t having a hard enough time.” They hug and share a kiss. 
“Well, yeah, but I’m hoping it’s gonna get easier now.” Fitz smiles at Jinx.
“Aw, you two are such a cute pair. I’m taking a photo.” I snap a quick shot with my phone. “I’m going to miss you both.”
“I’m sad to leave you Sir, but I’m excited for the future,” Fitz says. 
“I think that’s fair. I’m sad to not have you bouncing around my house anymore, singing pop songs in your underwear.”
That makes him groan and I chuckle as I pick up Fitz’s bag. “Let’s get this on your bike, Jinx. You two have a long trip ahead of you.”
“That we do.” Jinx glances up. “Hope the rain keeps away.”
“If it’s raining, I don’t want you riding at night ok? Call me, I’ll get you a hotel room.”
“Yes Sir,” Jinx says.

We walk down to the driveway. Jinx ties the bag on. We stand there looking at each-other. Now I want a cigarette. Crap. Fitz’s lower lip trembles. He throws himself at me for a hug. I crush him in my arms , and I can hear the leather creak underneath. “Be safe, boy. Take care of yourself, and don’t drive Jinx crazy too much. If you feel your safety has been compromised, you can call me any time.”
“Yes sir. I’ll be a good boy.” He sniffles.
Jinx passes him the other helmet and rubs his back. “If all goes well, you can come back here with me next summer when I visit my folks ok?”
“A whole year,” Fitz whispers.
“I can find a reason to come up before then. By Christmas for sure. It won’t be a year.”
Fitz looks relieved. He puts the helmet on. Jinx checks the fit. “God you look good in full kit. I’m going to be riding half hard the whole time.”
“Only half?” Fitz teases.
Jinx slaps his own thigh. “You see how tight these are? No room for an erection to go!”
That breaks the somber mode into a lighter one, and Fitz goes onto the bike without complaint. “Maybe when we stop for dinner, I can slide my hand in there and make you more comfortable, Sir?”
“Oh I would like that.”
I bite my lip, smothering a smile. I don’t think Jinx realized Fitz had called him Sir. They were so cute. I seriously loved them. “Alright you two, off you go.”

We exchange our good-byes, and I wave them off until they were finally gone and the sound of the bike fades. I exhale a loud sigh. I so wish I could have kept Fitz and trained him as my own sub, but it is not meant to be. Jinx will continue his training out there, with the local chapter of our club out there supporting them. Fitz has a whole family waiting for him. It’s enough to make a bear cry. 

I wipe my eyes and walk back up to the front of my house. The half smoked cigarette is still there on the porch floor. I re-light it with a match, sit in the chair, and smoke the rest of it as the sun comes out through the clouds. 

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

The automatic timer went off just at the right second, which was good because a moment later James and Ryan were wrestling on the floor like children in their silly matching Christmas pajamas over who wanted the other to open their presents first. They eventually wore themselves out, and Ryan won the right to make James open his presents first. 

The presents didn’t really matter to Ryan after all. James was his gift, and always would be. Two years ago, Ryan was stuck at home on Christmas with a broken leg from a skiing incident. He ordered some groceries to be delivered, but when James arrived to drop them off, he noticed something was wrong. The pain pills Ryan were given were affecting his appetite and he hadn’t been eating well; his blood sugar levels were showing dangerous numbers. James called 911 and the medics got Ryan’s diabetes under control before taking him the hospital.

Ryan begged the delivery company to put him in contact with James and sent him flowers and a card. James visited him in the hospital. He’d even delivered more groceries. They’d kept in touch, and by spring, romance had blossomed. In Ryan’s opinion, he was given a second chance at life, and he was going to use it to love James and spoil him. James was his guardian angel after all. And that meant a lot of presents.

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Caleb mulled this over in his head for the millionth time. This was either going to be a new beginning for his partner Hank, or Caleb was going to end up in a studio apartment with a new dog. One or the other. Caleb gave the puppy a scritch. “Either way, I’ll take care of you.”
The puppy licked his hand. It was hard to be logical with a face that cute.

Caleb also knew that getting pets as gifts was a bad idea, but he assured himself it wasn’t exactly impromptu. Hank had told him he wanted a dog one day. He still had a photo in their room of his childhood dog, T-bone. Their lives as a couple had been so turbulent lately. Going to the MIddle East had been a bad idea for a young man already stamping down trauma from sexual abuse in his teens. It had just made things so much worse when Hank came home. Caleb barely recognized him.

Hank tried though to get better, and Caleb still loved him even though he was broken. He wanted to help. Caleb wanted someone there when he had to work and Hank felt alone. Caleb had read another story of a man who had escaped depression with a pup. This had to work.

Caleb pulled in the driveway. He texted Hank. “You here right?”
A long moment passed. Caleb wondered if he’d been in the bathroom. 

“Yeah why?” Hank typed back.
“Good. I got a surprise for you.”
“Should I come out?” The response was a bit quicker this time.
“No I’ll come in.”
“???”

Caleb turned off the truck. “Alright, Eugena, ready to go meet your new Daddy?”
The puppy’s tail wagged. Caleb picked her up and she squirmed in his hands.
“Alright, Batgirl, hold still now.” Caleb got out of the cab and shoved his phone into his pocket. “Alright, alright.”

Caleb came in the house. “Hank?”
“Yeah?”
“Come here, I want you to meet someone.”
Caleb heard the footballs. Hank came around the corner from the kitchen and stopped. He stared at Caleb, and at Eugena, dumbfounded. “…You got a dog?” he whispered.
“I got you a dog,” Caleb corrected. He set the puppy down and pointed. “Go on, go say hi.”

Hank got down on a knee. “Come here, baby.”
Eugena was a smart girl. She bolted over and Hank scooped her up. “Hello! Aren’t you precious? Oh my god you are so precious. Aww yes, hi…” Hank leaned against the wall of the hallway, body folded around the small dog licking his face. “You are so precious… oh Caleb, I can’t believe this. She’s perfect!” Hank hugged her.

Caleb watched Hank’s shoulders hitch and he realized his partner was crying. Caleb found himself pushing tears of his own out of his eyes.
“She’s pretty cute,” Caleb said.
“I love her so much. Oh Caleb, thank you thank you. She’s so warm.”

Caleb sniffled. “I’m not sure you’ll be thanking me when you have to house break her, but …she should keep you company and give you structure when I’m here. She’ll keep you safe.”
“She’s perfect,” Hank repeated. “What’s her name?”
“Well, the shelter called her Eugena.”
“mmm. I think we can keep that for now. Oof, you sure do like giving kisses.” Hank looked at Caleb. “Thank you. More than you’ll ever know. I love you and appreciate you, and I am so glad you stick with me even when i suck.”
“You don’t suck. Your brain is making you think you suck. We’re gonna fix that.” Caleb smiled and went to go get tissues. He was feeling flushed with success. Caleb didn’t know that while he was gone, Hank was thinking of going into the garage and running the car. He was just thinking of ending everything. That’s why there’d been a long pause. Hank was on the way to the garage, when his phone dinged, and Hank made the decision to answer it.

In the weeks, and months, that followed, Hank began to feel he made the right choice by looking at his phone. It was a decision he dwelled on even years down the road, like when Eugena became the ring bearer at their wedding. Hank couldn’t fathom not being around for moments like this. I mean, you couldn’t believe how cute that dog was with a flower crown on. Oh, and Caleb was not bad looking in a suit either.

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pornoflexive:

My new bottle opener

“Hey,” I said in a soft voice. I pulled up a bar stool.
He glanced at me sideways. “What do you want?”
“You’re showing a little in the back. The predators over by the pool table are eyeing you.”
The young man glanced over his shoulder, then down at his own butt. He hastily covered himself. His cheeks turned red and he took a deep shot of whiskey. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” I said. “I mean, I like the view, but I don’t think you came here to advertise.”
“What makes you think that?” He asked.
“Either you have bad allergies or someone hurt you, because you keep wiping your cheeks.”
His bottom lip trembled.
“It’s ok.” I signaled the bartender and ordered double of what the young man was having – one for each of us. “What’s your name? Mine’s Elliot.”
“Evan.”
“Funny. We both have E names.”
“Yeah,” Evan said. He sniffled.
“Can I put a hand on your back?”
Evan thought. He nodded. I scooted the stool forward and rubbed his back. Evan blew his nose in a bar napkin.
“What’s wrong honey?”
Evan emptied the whiskey. “My boyfriend’s cheating.”
I clicked my tongue. “Oh honey I’m so sorry. Did you find out tonight?”
“Yes.” Evan’s voice sounds tight.
“Did you fight?”
“Earlier,” Evan responded. “Things have been rough lately. He’s working too much, I’m not working enough. The intimacy has been lacking. We were both kind of waiting for the other to notice how miserable the other was, you know?”
I nodded. “We’re all the protagonist in our own story.”
Evan gives me a soulful look. His eyes welled up with tears again. “Shit.” He reached for the new whiskey.
I sip mine.
“How did you find out?”
“I had been suspecting it for a while… he used to get so frustrated, since we weren’t intimate as often as he wanted you know? But I stopped seeing tissues in the trash. And he came home smelling like shampoo that wasn’t his one night when he thought I was asleep. We had a fight tonight, after he came home late.” Evan sighed.
“Go on,” I said.
“Well… I mean, we both agreed we had been unfair to each-other and we needed to work on our relationship if we wanted to save it. He went to bed. I decided to you know, take some initiative. I wrote him a note to put in his briefcase, telling him I’d bring him lunch at work tomorrow.”
“And?”
Evan sniffled. “I was going to put the note inside the briefcase, but in it I found a heart shaped candy box.”
“It wasn’t for you?”
Evan shook his head. “It was unopened. Receipt said he bought it when he was supposed to be at a ‘meeting’ tonight. Plus, there were almonds in it. I’m allergic to nuts.” His shoulders trembled. “He’s cheating on me.”
I exhaled. “The poor thing. Come here, you need a hug.”
Evan was starved for attention. He leaned into me and I embraced him. He was shaking.
“I am so sorry this happened to you.”
“Me too. But how can I go home? I left as soon as I found the chocolate. He’s going to wake up tomorrow and I’m not there.”
“There’s more important things to concern yourself about. If he was intimate with you at all while he was with this other person, then he could have you know… you need to get tested.”
Evan looked shocked. “For what?”
“STIs, babe. Routine. You got to protect yourself.”
“Oh god,” Evan groaned, resting his face in his palms. “And then what if there is something? I mean, how I can even face him again? Is one of us going to have to move out? What about rent? Our furniture we bought together?”
“Shh shh one thing at a time. One thing. Finish your whiskey. Let’s take you to urgent care, get you tested. Then I’ll put you in a hotel for the night, ok?”
Evan stared at me. “You’d…pay for a hotel room? for me?”
“I have ridiculous credit card points. Let me, ok? Please? You need a place to rest safely tonight.”
Evan sipped his whiskey. “Ok,” he agreed. He sounded tired. Defeated. “Thank you.”
“And no strings attached.”
Evan nodded. “I couldn’t get it up now if I wanted to.”
I chuckled. “You can worry about that later. Come on, now. Finish up, boy.”
Evan nodded with a blank look on his face. I could see the pain, the hurt, deep in his eyes. I had just met him, but the urge to protect him was fierce and deep. How could anyone take this sweet, sensitive man and just take advantage of him like that? I was not going to stand for it. I would do everything I could to get him back on his feet.

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Two days later, Evan came back into the bar to have a drink after work and do some reflecting. A lot had happened in 24 hours. He tested positive for –ugh, gross!- pubic lice. He’d kicked Andrew out, and put in an application for a studio apartment in the same building. Less furniture would be needed for a smaller space. Evan had been a force to be reckoned with these last few days, but now that he stopped moving he felt tired and alone. That Elliot guy had been such a huge help, but he couldn’t mooch off his good graces forever. Evan wondered what his motivations were though, and if he just had the word ‘victim’ plastered on his own forehead.

Someone came up next to him at the bar and sat down. A rather handsome guy with broad shoulders and dark skin.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” Evan replied.
“Hey uh,” he guy said. “I saw you here the other night. You were pretty upset. Are you ok now?”
“Oh,” Evan replied. “Yes. Sorry. Didn’t mean to make a scene. My boyfriend cheated on me.”
The guy groaned. “Dude it happened to me too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I walked in on them humping like bunnies.”
Evan winced. “Yikes.”
“Indeed, indeed. Is uh, Elliot helping you out?”
Evan blinked. “You know him?”
“Oh we all do. He’s kind of a figure around here. Helps lost boys.”
“He helped you too?” Evan asked.
The man nodded. “He did.”
“Did he ask for anything in return?”
“Nope. Not at all. Just has a lot of money and likes to play dad.”
“Oh, that’s a relief. I was wondering if he was trying to get me to sleep with him,” Evan admitted.
The guy scoffed and shook his head. “No. Not Elliot. You know his story right?”
Evan shook his head.
“Elliot cheated on his husband. He was drunk, it was a weakness. The boy committed suicide when he found out.”
Evan gasped. “Oh my god.”
“I looked up the case once. There were some underlying issues… the boy had a history of bipolar disorder, Elliot had an issue with drinking. Regardless of what happened, Elliot never forgave himself. I think he’s just trying to atone.”
“By being our guardian angels?”
The man smiled. “Yeah. I think so.”
“Well, I needed one the other night. I was so upset.”
The man nodded. “I feel you. I got into a fight at the bar when it happened to me. Hey uh, you wanna go get something to eat? My name’s Mechad by the way.”
“Evan.” They shook hands. “Food sounds great but…I’m not really looking to jump into a relationship right away.”
Mechad held up his his hands. “No no. I understand. But it never hurts to have a friend right?”
Evan smiled. “I could use a friend.”
“So could I. I just moved here. Too many memories back in Portland.”

Elliot had come in the back at some point and had been watching from a back table. He smiled as the two boys left together, chatting. The lost lambs had found their way.
Elliot let the deep satisfacation wash over him, but also relief for the hundredth time that humans couldn’t see his halo and thought he was just a regular man. He had shot himself after watching Tom jump off that balcony, but something had went awry. Elliot didn’t go to heaven, or hell. Elliot went to a black place. A voice told him, he wanted to go to heaven, he had to atone. He had, and that was a hundred boys ago. Now, he just working. Elliot glanced at his watch. Three hours until the next one. New York kept one oh so busy.

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Julian awoke in the pre-dawn hours to the sound of tears.
It took him a moment to remember there was someone in his bed. Matt had slept over the night before. He didn’t want to be alone. Somehow they both fit on his full-size mattress.
“Matty?” he whispered. “Are you ok? Are you in pain?”
“I’m too scared!” Matt sobbed. “I don’t want to go to surgery today! Please Julian I don’t want to go!”
Julian parted his lips but no words came out. He swallowed. “Come here,” was all he could say. “Lie on me.” He encouraged Jasper to roll onto his side and onto Julian’s chest. Julian put an arm over him.
“It’s ok to be scared. Surgery is scary. Being cut open is scary. But you need to get better. I know you feel fine right now, but soon the pain meds won’t do it anymore. If that small tumor is cancer, then we can’t let it spread. It has to be biopsied. It has to go.”
“But it’s in my head,” Matt sniffled. “I don’t want them to go in there. You’re not supposed to. What if they change me?”
“I can’t guarantee nothing bad will happen if you go into surgery, Matty. But if you don’t, I know something bad will happen. It will grow. Spread. Hurt you.”
Matt whimpered.
“But if you’re a brave boy and get surgery today, that bad thing won’t happen. You’ll take a nap and it’ll magically be over. You will be good as new.”
“…But what if something goes wrong and I wake up a vegetable.”
Julian looked down on him. “I will take care of you for the rest of your life, and love you just the same.”
Matty began to cry again. “I love you Julian. I know you just think of me as your pesky best friend but…I really love you. You’re like a blood brother to me.”
Julian felt a lump form in his throat. “I love you too, my little dove. I want you to be healthy. Will get the surgery for me?”
There was a hiccup. “Yes. I’ll do it for you. All that tumor does is threaten to take me away from you. I want to be with you without it there. I hate knowing it’s in my head right now.”
“That’s it, doveling. That’s the right attitude. What’s the Prodigy song you like so much?”
That got a small smile out of Matt. “Invaders must die.”
“Exactly. We don’t have to be at the hospital until 7. Let’s got a few more minutes of sleep ok?”
“Ok, Julian.” Matt says, snuggling Julian’s pectoral. “This is so nice. I feel so safe.”
“When you wake up in the hospital after surgery, I’ll be resting next to you so you can cuddle me ok?”
“I – I would love that.”
“Then it’s settled. Now sleep a minute.”
Matt just sighed.

And soon the room was quiet except Matt’s little hiccups. Julian stroked his hair until it was time to get up. Julian couldn’t fall back asleep. He could sleep while Matt was in surgery. Right now, Matt needed a protector. Julian wished there was something he could do to protect Matty from this tumor. He hoped keeping him positive and strong would help them conquer the fight. “I’ll do all I can for you.” Julian whispered in the quiet room, and crossed himself to seal the promise. 

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alraunahomestead:

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(This is a little different than most of my writing, and full of feels.)

November second is the only day of the year I know he’ll be awake before me. I stretch, wash up, and head into kitchen to look for Russel. There’s a tea bag resting in a metal ramekin. I turn toward the living room and find him leaning against the open porch door. He’s got a in both hands. It’s a bit chilly. The dawn sun is streaming, brilliant and beautiful. I wrap my robed arms around myself and walk up toward him.
“Hey,” I say, so I don’t startle him. “Good morning.”
Russel turns to look at me and smiles that sad smile. “Hey there.” We exchange a kiss.
I place a hand on his shoulder and let him contemplate the woods beyond our house.
“Do you want to leave at nine still?” I ask.
Russel nods, distant.
I pat him on the shoulder again and head back into kitchen.

When Russel was 7, he fell through ice over a pond by his house. His older brother jumped in to push him out, but he did not survive himself because he couldn’t get out.
When I started dating Russel, it was in October, so he had to explain to me why it was he turned down a date on November second.

I was the one who proposed the ritual: We get up. We eat nice breakfast. Then, I pack his brother’s favorite meal –  hotdogs and macaroni and cheese with broccoli, and Pepsi – then we drive four hours to the cemetery. Sometimes Russel’s family meets us there. Sometimes they go later. It’s hard for them too.
I lay out the blanket. Then, I sit there and hold Russel’s hand and listen to him tell Brandon everything he accomplished that year and what his brother’s missing out on. At first, it was kind of boring and awkward; but watching the passion and love pour out of Russel has taught me the importance of embracing life and enjoying time with the ones you love. Now, I talk to Brandon too.
Russel and I finish the trip by eating lunch, and then driving back home. Sometimes we’ll stop in town to see a movie, and eat out for dinner. Do something fun and cheerful.

By the time we get home, we’re exhausted and ready for bed. When November third comes? Russel is back to normal and sleeping in like hibernating bear. I have to bribe him with coffee and/or humping him to wake him up. He’s such an interesting man. There’s lots to love about him. I’m glad I married him fifteen years ago. 

I’ve often thought about what our future holds. I wonder which one of us will die first. I’ve decided, that I hope he goes before me. I don’t want him to have to sit in front of two headstones without anyone to hold his hand.

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‘Hey,” I say, with a knock. “You ok?”
“Nn.” Came the reply.
“I’m coming in.”
“Nn.”
I step into the bathroom, not knowing what to expect, but I had a ball of dread in the bottom of my stomach. I’m relieved Darren isn’t hurt, but then I see what he had done with the scissors and his hair. “Hey,” I repeat softly. “What are you doing?”
“It’s coming out,” he says quietly.
I sat on the closed toilet. “Your hair?” I ask.
Darren nods, blankly.
“That happens with chemo.”
“I thought I’d shave it off, but you can’t bring electronic shavers in the bath. And so I tried to cut it off but I can’t.” He hugs his knees. “I can’t. And it’s just falling out.” He begins to cry.
I furrow my brow and purse my lips. I’m only a few inches away but it feels like I can’t reach him. I swallow my emotions, stand-up, and begin to take off my clothes. Darren doesn’t look up. “Scoot forward,” I instruct, and he scoots up. I slip in behind him, but can’t fit my long legs folded. I place them on either side of Darren’s body, and then pull him against me. He leans against me, still a hard ball, shaking in the tepid water. I turn on the warm water to a gentle trickle, then tighten my grip on him. He begins to unravel, until he is laying on me. His body shakes softly as he cries.
“Darren?” I whisper.
“Y-yeah?” he hiccups.
“It’s going to be alright.”
“You don’t know that,” he accuses.
“I mean…” I exhale softly. “It doesn’t matter if your hair falls out. Or if you lose weight. Or if you get tired more easily. It doesn’t matter, no one is going to think negatively of you for it. It’s gonna be alright. You got friends. You got me.”
“…I don’t want to die from cancer.”
I squeeze him even tighter and kiss the top of his head. “We all die someday Darren. But you won’t die now. Not soon either.”
He doesn’t answer.
”You know, they say – live each day like it’s your last. But that’s silly, cause you’d do some stupid things or blow all your money right?”
Darren shrugs.
“Well, I think it’s silly. Especially because even if one of our days was the last, I’d still just want to spend it as a normal day with you. Because each day with you in it is a good day.”
Darren sniffles. “You will love me through out this whole thing?”
“With intense, passionate, unlimited love.”
Darren relaxes against me a little. “I love you, but I can’t believe you would give it to me back knowing what we’re up against.”
“I will always love you back,” I answer firmly, hoping he can’t hear my words shaking.
“That makes me happy. Hey, David?”
”Hm?”
“Would you shave my head?”
“Yeah. I will. Want me to shave mine?” I asked.
“No,” Darren says, “I like to play with your hair cause it’s long.”
I smile a little. “Ok. Just yours. And no more scissors ok?”
“Ok,” Darren says, “No more scissors.”

I kiss him on the head, and reach back to turn off the water. We sit in the silent bathroom, cuddling in contemplative quiet, until the water becomes cold. Darren falls still.
For a terrifying second, I think he’s actually dead.

No, just asleep. Rattled, I wake him up and help him dry off.

I put him to bed. After he’s tucked in, I go downstairs and turn on the living room light. I take the presents out of the hidden spot behind boxes in the closet and put them under the tree. I stuff the stockings with trinkets. Then, I sit down by the tree, stare up at the pretty twinkling lights, and begin to sob.

                                            _____________

It wasn’t my last Christmas with Darren. I got four more wonderful, merry Christmas Eves with Darren. We got a dog. There was a wedding. We bought a house. I let myself be happy.

Then the cancer came back. It didn’t respond to chemo anymore. I shaved Darren’s head again. It never grew back. I lost my Darren on a rainy July evening. I thought by December, that I was recovered enough to handle it. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t OK with the empty tree and the silent house.

My sister, who was worried about my lack of presence on Christmas morning, came to check on me. She found me in the garage. Just in time, the doctors said. But I could see it in their eyes. It was close. Too close. I was mad at first that she had stopped me, but by the time New Years rolled around, I just felt numb. I got therapy. I sold the house. I kept the dog.

A few days into therapy, my therapist told me about a group for gay persons who have lost their spouses. I went, and sat in the back. But I kept going once a month, and fourteen months later, a new person started coming.
“God how California is this that there’s vegan donuts over here?” Judd asked, chuckling.
“The coffee is organic too,” I noted.
“Good lord, this city. When I want to feel pitiful, I just want gas station coffee and shitty donuts made by people who don’t speak English and run a Chinese restaurant next door. Why is that hard?”
I actually laughed. “Now that you mention it, why are there so many Chinese restaurants next to donut places?”
Judd shook his head. “I really wish I knew. Gets me every time. Hm, actually this donut is pretty good..”
“I think you need to apologize to the donut, Judd. I don’t think the donut appreciated you judging it.”
That made him laugh back.

Judd lost his own husband, Mark, three years go. Brain aneurysm. Judd took it harder than me. He had no time to prepare. Woke up next to his husband t to find him dead and stiff. Can you imagine that? Judd, who had a problem with pain killers already, turned to heroin to numb his pain. He was climbing out of his own hole, but sober, and cautiously optimistic.

And quite unexpectedly, I made a friend. And then a close friend. And then, a lover. One day, I caught myself thinking, “if it wasn’t for Darren, I wouldn’t have ever met Judd.” I felt guilt for that. But my therapist said Darren would probably like that he could still make me happy.

At Christmas now, I sit at the sofa and sip coffee while I stare at the mesmerizing beauty of the lights on the tree.
Darren’s favorite ornament hides shyly off the side, keeping Mark’s ornament company too. The tree is even more beautiful now, even though there’s two small children destroying wrapping paper underneath it and screaming over presents. Judd comes and sits next to me on the sofa, and puts a box in my lap. “Merry Christmas,” he says kissing me. I smile and kiss him back. I am happy.
“Merry Christmas, Judd.”

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Captions are fictional.