Lux Apollo

Thanks for reading and commenting! I appreciate it.

Thanks for reading. I guess I am pleased to have evoked some emotion in you, even if it was a tough one.

I am so glad you find him relatable! 🙂

March 4 2022 I decided last night that it was time to start teaching Daniel to drive, so I skipped my prep period and signed him out of his last class of the day. It was math class, and I knew he was doing well enough that one day out wouldn’t put him very far behind. He’d just have to catch up on the homework. I had contemplated starting out in the school parking lot, but quickly nixed that idea. It would put Daniel under too much pressure to do well out of the gate. Who wants to be seen through the windows by all of their peers the first time they get behind the wheel? Instead, we headed out to Danbury, Connecticut, in my car. It was only a twenty minute drive, and I figured the parking lot of the Danbury Fair mall or some mega-church would work just fine, depending on how busy they were. Daniel was excited. He had been chomping at the bit to get started since he got his Learner’s Permit on his birthday last month. I wish I’d been in a better state back then, but I really was too busy to take him out the past few weeks between dealing with my return to work and dealing with my recovery. I’m not going to feel too guilty about it, though. Despite his eagerness, Daniel had been nothing but polite about getting on the road for the first time. As we pulled into the mall parking lot and I started surveying for an empty quarter, it occured to me that I should have borrowed one of the School’s cars, not used my own, but whatever. It’s not like my piece of shit was worth all that much. I was contemplating getting a new car soon, anyway. This Civic had served me well, but maybe it was time for something new now that I had secure work. It would be my first new car, too. Once I was satisfied we were in an empty enough area, I put the car in park and switched places with Daniel. My car is automatic, so I didn’t have to deal with teaching him how to use a clutch and shift gears. Well, thank god for that. Daniel had poor control, pushing too hard on the accelerator and too hard on the brakes, jerking us back and forth. His steering wasn’t so bad, at least, though I was a little leery of leading him towards any area with parked cars. We practiced driving straight, braking, turning and all around just using the parking lot lines as guides for where he could and could not go. He was getting more confident, and wanted to drive further afield. My anxiety was a little too high for that, though, so I told him we were going to work on pulling forwards into a parking space and backing out instead. Anything to keep him away from other moving vehicles. He was pretty sloppy with the parking, so we’d definitely have to work on that, but hell - it was his first time. He did fine, just needs to learn to control his foot better on the pedals. I switched with Daniel and drove around the mall to get us closer to an entrance with a decent restaurant, a Brio Tuscan Grille. I was taking him out to dinner as a sort of non-apology for taking so long to get started with him. Daniel was happy when he realized we were going out to eat instead of heading back to the School. We ordered some bruschetta to start, he had the chicken marsala and I ordered the pollo caprese. I felt like having a glass of wine to help me relax after all the tension that was riding up my back while Daniel was at the wheel, but I didn’t order it. We still had the drive back to the School, and I didn’t want to leave Daniel with a bad impression of my thoughts around alcohol and driving. Sure, one drink wouldn’t hurt me but at his age one drink is game over for driving. Not that he should be drinking at all, but that never stopped me at his age. Once in a while, anyway. There’s no way Xavier would have put up with too much nonsense from me and my peers, but looking back I can see he and the staff weren’t nearly as hard on us as I used to think. I definitely wouldn’t hold it against Daniel if he experimented a little, as long as he kept it safe. Maybe that’s another conversation we need to have some time, but I didn’t bring it up right then and there. Daniel said he was supposed to be hanging out with Connor tonight, alone. He was taking my advice about communicating his feelings, but he was scared. He felt so vulnerable, and he was worried he might let Connor get away with things even if Daniel wasn’t completely satisfied with his responses. I just told Daniel that it’s part of the complexity of love, that in the end there are going to be faults in your partner and you just have to decide what you can and cannot put up with. That informs whether or not you need to leave them, or whether you can stay in the relationship. I also told him that I’m by far not the expert in what to put up with and what you should see as red flags to walk away from, considering my history with Dominik. The reality of the situation is that he’s only in high school, and chances are pretty high that even if he and Connor get back together and their relationship survives until graduation, the pressures and changes of moving away to college and starting adult life could cause their relationship to strain and buckle anyway. Very few people end up with their high school sweetheart. He seemed a little disheartened by that response, so I told him not to worry about it too much right now. He should date and have fun and maybe not take things all too seriously. I told him I know that’s hard, considering how deep his feelings for Connor are, but I’d be here for him when he needs it. Dinner was a bit quiet after that. The food was decent, I guess. Probably better than the mass of spaghetti bolognese and garlic bread they were making for the residents of the School tonight. We were about to order dessert when my smartphone started to ring. It was Emma. The X-men were going on a mission. There was an anti-mutant riot brewing in Birmingham, Alabama. The Purity movement was instigating. We needed to get back as soon as possible because I was needed to supervise since most of the adults would be gone. We headed back, me driving maybe a little quicker than I should have. I doubted that they would wait on me, but all the same it would be best if I was there. I saw the Blackbird take off just as we pulled in the front gate. Once we were in the door, Daniel thanked me again and then ran off to find Connor. I, of course, went looking for Bobby. But I didn’t find him, not in the dining hall, not in his office, not in our suite. Shit. He went with the X-men. My anxiety started spiking. Bobby and I hadn’t had a discussion about my feelings about him going out on missions with the X-men. I didn’t want to hold him back from doing what he felt was right, especially when they needed him, but at the same time I couldn’t help but worry. The situation down south was getting more and more volatile despite the best efforts of so many to reduce the tensions. The Purity movement and evangelicals like the Church of Humanity we preaching that mutancy was the result of sin. The sins of the parents, the sins of the children. They treated mutants like they bore the mark of Cain, as if their genetics had anything at all to do with their worth in God’s eyes. It didn’t matter how much rational, calm science you showed these people to demonstrate how being a mutant was just a stroke of luck, just part of nature, just another facet of what it meant to be human. Their hearts and minds were closed. Mutants were different and dangerous. It was reactionary tribalism at its worst. I couldn’t help but remember the helplessness I felt when Dom came up behind Bobby and smashed a bottle of liquor over his head, and then began to beat him during the rescue. At least back then I’d been able to do something, been able to save Bobby - even if it was by accident. But being stuck here at the School? Fuck. I’m not an X-man. Don’t want to be one of them. It isn’t my place, even if I’d feel much better if I was out there able to watch Bobby’s back. But I’m no hero. Not after what I’ve done. Even if I wanted to be, putting me on the team would give the government just one more reason to crack down on the X-men. It’s not like what they were doing was illegal, usually, but definitely very much operating in a grey area. They didn’t need a former criminal like me on board further sullying their reputation. Mulling about all this was pointless, so I headed to my office and grabbed my planner. I needed to do something, but I also needed to be in the living room or somewhere else public in case the kids needed me. I couldn’t very well bring marking with me, not out in public, but planning shit would be okay. None of this was what I wanted to be doing with my Friday night, but since when do I get what I want? Well, that’s not fucking true anymore. I’ve got Bobby. I sighed to myself and headed out to the living room. I sat down at one of the tables and started working on my plans for the next week. It was hard to concentrate, between my own anxieties, the blare of CNN from one of the TVs, and the kids that kept coming up to ask me random questions. They wanted to know if I knew what the X-men were doing. I was pretty sure the mission wasn’t any sort of secret, so I told them the truth. They asked me why I didn’t go with them, and I just shrugged and said someone has to stay behind and protect the School. Whatever was happening, it mustn’t have been big yet because it wasn’t on the news on TV. Emma must have been in Cerebro and caught wind of something brewing. I tried to turn my attention back to my work, but then Jubilee came into the room looking exhausted. When she saw me, she looked a little relieved and flopped down in the other chair at the table with a dramatic sigh. She’d been up in Maryland picking up a new student who started manifesting suddenly in her school cafeteria after being bullied, right in the middle of lunch. Apparently her parents were less than thrilled to have a mutant for a daughter and were happy to have Jubilee take the girl off their hands. Just what the girl needs, of course, her parents abandoning her right after one of the most traumatic experiences of her young life. At least she’d be living in the right place now. This School was full of kids with bad experiences manifesting their powers and bad parenting, so at least she’d be able to find someone to commiserate with pretty quickly. Jubes seemed to think they had a good match for her roommate, just from what she observed moving the girl in. I told Jubilee that I didn’t envy her role in helping get new students to the School, getting them settled and counseling them through their traumas. Jubilee sighed, saying some days she wasn’t sure how she could handle keeping her cool through some of the ridiculous and horrible things some parents said and did when she was trying to get the kid to agree to come to the School, that it was the best place for them. There were parents who were supportive and concerned for their kid’s safety first and foremost, but they were in the minority. Mostly, there were parents who were abusive, parents who were ashamed, parents who wanted nothing to do with their child, and maybe most strangely, parents who were in denial and didn’t want their child exposed to more mutants - as if keeping them away from other mutants would somehow make their child more pure and less of a mutant themselves. Jubilee said she just had to keep telling herself that things really were getting better for mutants, that the students the School was picking up were the extreme cases that really needed their help - either because of the situation with their parents and their home school, or because their powers were out of control. She knew she had a biased sample, but that didn’t make it any easier day to day. She knew it was worth it, though. She could see the change in the students over their time here. They were learning to accept themselves, learning to control and be proud of their powers, and learning all the things a regular middle and high schooler should learn too. Every year at graduation she could see the fruits of their labours, and there were former students who kept in touch and gave her a window into their success out in the real world. All the day to day drama was worth it for the results they were getting in the long run. Jubilee asked me how my day went. I told her about taking Daniel out driving, which she found entirely too amusing for my tastes. She told me that if I was too anxious about it not to worry - they did offer a state certified Driver’s Ed in the summers for students who stayed on campus all year. Daniel was one of them, so he’d be able to take advantage. It would be better for his eventual car insurance costs to have it under his belt anyway. I decided I’d still take him out for some lessons here and there, but that I would definitely encourage him to take that course over the summer this year. Jubes asked if Bobby was working in his office. Apparently she missed the memo about how dire Emma thought this X-men excursion was going to be, and that Bobby had gone with them. Whatever, she was busy getting the new kid settled when all this was going down. She asked me if she was distracting me from getting work done, and I told her I didn’t really care. It was Friday night and I had all weekend to get things finished up. I’d mostly just grabbed it so I’d have something to keep me from ruminating. She dragged me over to one of the TVs set up with a video game system and insisted we blow off some steam with some MarioKart. It was surprisingly effective. No one would ever make the mistake of saying that Jubes and I are particularly good at video games, but we both have a healthy competitive streak. We played for about an hour and a half, at which point some kids came by who wanted to play. Jubilee stayed and played against them, but I begged off. I took my planner and wandered down to the library. I managed to get things put together for the week ahead without too much trouble, but my thoughts were starting to turn back to Bobby and the X-men. I dropped my planner off in my office and headed back to the living room. Jubes had apparently moved on in my absence. I sat down and flicked one of the TVs to CNN. The Purity movement was on the march through the Southside in Birmingham, protesting its diverse, Bohemian culture and how it’s become a haven for mutants (let alone the fact that it was already Birmingham’s gaybourhood!). There were torches, and there were a lot of people with guns, despite the fact that Alabama law prohibited open carry at public demonstrations. It was chilling. I grabbed the remote and flicked the TV to some sports channels. Eventually I settled on a rugby game. Rugby had been a passion of my mother’s, and she instilled a love for it when I was a kid. We’d watch rugby on the TV back when we could still afford cable. My dad liked it too, liked how rough it was. He was a big football fan, after all. Never really got the opportunity to play it, though, since it’s an uncommon sport in America and Xavier’s was still a fairly small school when I attended. I couldn’t get into it. There was too much crawling in the back of my mind, but I wasn’t going to feed my anxieties by watching the constant drone of the news. I thought about going upstairs and grabbing a book to read and coming back down, but I wasn’t sure it would be enough. I was too worried about Bobby, about my friends, about the fact that I was supposed to be acting like the cool, calm and collected adult here and yet I was haunted by the deep shadow of my kidnapper in the sub-basement and could barely control myself on a good day, let alone with all this stacked on top. I hated this feeling. When I was younger, I was always a person of action - a doer. That was how I kept control, by stepping up to the plate and wrestling with whatever the problem happened to be. Even if I failed, at least I was doing something. Yet I was doing something, sort of. I was here to guard the School, and to help the house mothers and fathers manage the students’ questions and fears. Not that there had been much of that yet, but still… I had to keep things in perspective. I had a role to play. My role just wasn’t on the front lines anymore. I managed to keep myself occupied with television until the Blackbird came roaring back in at 3:34 in the morning. Jubilee sat with me some more, and seemed content to let me avoid the news channels at all costs. But when they rolled in, I needed to know. I bolted downstairs to the hangar. As soon as the jet’s loading ramp was descending I was running up, trying to get to Bobby. I was quickly pushed out of the way, though, because Sam had been shot in the shoulder and needed to be taken to the medlab for immediate treatment. Bobby’d iced over the wound to staunch the bleeding. Bobby looked like he’d been through hell. I hugged him tight and kissed him, right there in front of everyone. Other than Sam’s shoulder, no one else was seriously hurt beyond some bruises. We’d been lucky. Very lucky.

Some happy Telemann for a Monday afternoon.

Wow! *hugs*

I am contemplating what John will end up doing very carefully. It's tough to write a character that is both fragile and strong in equal measure.

Some fun with Beethoven:

March 2 2022 When I woke up this morning, Bobby’s arms were around me. I was still a little sore from making love with him last night, a good kind of sore. I felt so safe, but at the same time I could feel something crawling in the back of my mind, something not good at all. After all the nightmares I had, I wasn’t all that well rested either. I called in sick for work. Well, a personal day. I wasn’t sick - not in body, anyway. Emma was completely understanding and gave me the time off no questions asked. I’m sure she knows why I’m struggling. Fucking telepaths. I feel like such a wuss, but I fucking needed it. I barely got through yesterday as it was, and I needed more time to process. But if I was taking a day off, I was going to make the most of it. I got on the phone at 8:30am and managed to get an emergency appointment with Dr. Sofen for the afternoon. Bobby was happy that I was doing it. Of course he was. He had to put up with me waking three different times last night from nightmares of being chained up, of Iraq, of Dom. He didn’t complain about it, so I’m trying not to feel guilty about disrupting his sleep. After breakfast, I handed off my sketchy lesson plans to Paige and gave her a few other hints on what I’d like covered. Since she was the one in charge of my classes while I was recovering, she already knows what's going on and how the kids behave so at least I could be confident that things wouldn’t get too far off track. I retreated to my office for a couple hours to try and get some more marking done, and maybe a little bit of planning. Well, I was there for a grand total of twenty minutes before Emma was knocking on my door and bitching me out for working when I was supposed to be taking a personal day. I was a little pissed. I’m trying to keep myself occupied and not get overwhelmed, and not going into the classroom so my students don’t suffer and she’s still not fucking happy with me. Christ, you’d think she’d be glad that I was taking the initiative to get caught up. I mean, it’s not like I was falling behind, but that was my fear. I went downstairs to the faculty gym, deciding a workout would probably be good for me. I stretched out and then started a circuit of some of the machines. I didn’t want to do cardio - too much time for my mind to wander. Even so, I didn’t last very long. I thought about spending some time in the Danger Room, but one of the senior squads was in there practicing for their regular training time. I grabbed an early lunch from the kitchen. It was just a salami sandwich with mustard and provolone. I didn’t feel much like eating and it kind of sucked. All too soon, though, it was time to hit the road. It was a pain in the ass to have to commute two hours each way into New York to see Dr. Sofen, but according to Emma she was worth the lost time. So far I have to agree. As I zoomed down the 684, probably driving faster than I should have, I couldn’t help but fiddle with the radio. I couldn’t settle on anything. It all just seemed to suck, to not fit my mood. I should probably invest in some audio books to listen to on trips like these. Even on the days that I’m not completely fucked in the head they would be better than listening to top 40 or whatever drivel they were spewing on the talk radio channels. It took me a while to find parking, which was annoying. I hate having to pay so much to park in the city. At least it didn’t end up being too far from Dr. Sofen’s office. When I checked in with the secretary, I felt a bit like I was being judged. I don’t know why. She has always seemed nice enough, but I guess they probably get enough crazies coming through here that she’s developed some intuition about whether or not they’ll need to call for security at some point during my appointment. That did nothing to calm my nerves, nor did the forty minute wait. I should have found something else to do to kill some time, something other than just sitting there stewing. Fuck. The very first thing I said to Dr. Sofen was that Dom was awake and I didn’t know what the fuck I was supposed to do. She assessed me for a moment, and then asked what my options were. Well, avoid seeing him was what I’d been doing so far. Just staying there, living my life as if he wasn’t there - except that I was living my life as if he could pop up next to me at any second, unable to do much of anything. Suddenly I was considering whether or not I could leave the School and stay far the fuck away until he was gone. Screw the kids and their learning, just find something else to do with my life - get some journalism gigs going, or finally write a fucking manuscript for crying out loud! But then what would Bobby do? Would he come with me? Would he abandon his work obligations because I couldn’t handle being there anymore? And then there was the option of swallowing my fears and anxieties and going to see Dom. Going to see what had become of him after the stem cell treatment and the telepathic therapy. Going to see if there was anything left of the man he once was, or if there was just a shell of a person left. Maybe then I could stop grinding my gears. Maybe then I could know how I truly felt about him, one way or the other, and I could make a decision about what I wanted to ask Emma to do with him. Because something had to be done with him. And really, what the fuck did I have to fear? He couldn’t hurt me from within that power-dampening chamber in the medlab. He couldn’t do anything, except say shit. And what the fuck would he have to say, anyway? Would I even care? Or would it shake me to the core, just as some of his admissions during my captivity had? Dr. Sofen said that there wasn’t really any wrong decision I could make, not completely, but I needed to be careful. I was walking a tightrope between what was good for me and what would only feed into my own neuroses. That I didn’t need to go and see Dominik just to prove to myself how strong and in control I was. Plus, I was in a relationship now, and if I valued the solace, comfort and stability it could bring and the long-term value it could have in my life, it had to be strongly front of mind in any decisions I made about staying at the School if they were going to keep Dom there. She asked me if I’d fallen back on any crutches after I found out about Dom awakening. I told her no, I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol and I’d never in my life used drugs beyond a little experimentation with marijuana when I was a teen. Magneto had kept a tight leash on me when I was in the Brotherhood, and he didn’t approve of drug use and wouldn’t let me have any alcohol until I was of age. Dr. Sofen nodded, noting something down, and then asked me if I’d had sex with Bobby yesterday. I bit my lip and nodded. I sort of knew that was coming, knew from my past with the psychiatrist after Iraq that my sex choices would come under scrutiny as well. Fuck, I was considering this very sort of thing last night, but I just couldn’t fucking help myself. I needed Bobby. I needed to feel him inside me, needed him to take away the conflict and emotions and just give me something pure and real to hold on to. Dr. Sofen said that was fine, but asked me if I talked to him about how I was feeling. Well, I didn’t. I fucking didn’t. She encouraged me to talk with Bobby about this stuff, of course. I worry about it, though. I worry about what Bobby will think of me if he knows about how fucked up my head really is. Yes, he’s seen me have PTSD flashbacks and listened to me blubber about Iraq, but what will he think if he knows there is part of me that wants to forgive Dominik for doing this to me? That a small part of me still loves him, even if I want him to be punished? I don’t know. Yes, I know she’s right. I know it, but I can help but feel trapped and vulnerable and so fucking scared at the thought of opening up to Bobby completely about this stuff. Why can’t I just handle this shit on my own? Why can’t I just be strong enough for that? It’s not like I needed Dominik to help me in the aftermath of Iraq. It’s not like I relied on him. Maybe that was another one of my mistakes. We were running out of time in my appointment and I felt like barely anything had been accomplished. Dr. Sofen said that just the amount I’d let off my chest during the past hour was a big deal, considering how much I’ve been bottling myself up since the news about Dominik came. She recommended that I not make any rash decisions about whether to see him or not, or whether to leave the School or not. I needed more time. We left it at that, and I felt like nothing had been resolved. I was in the same tight spot I’d been when I walked in her office door. Was there any fucking point to all of this? She quickly touched on whether or not my meds were doing enough. I told her I wasn't having any flashbacks, just nightmares, but I was feeling a little out of control and worried I would fly off the handle on my students. She decided to increase my dose of sertraline a little bit and gave me a prescription for a short course of prazosin to help me sleep better. Hopefully that will help. I hate relying on drugs to control myself, but there are times like these when it is beyond worth it. With the appointment over, I was feeling too exhausted to consider driving back right then and there. I almost wish I’d asked Bobby for the key to his condo so I could chill there for a while, maybe even sleep the night. But then I would be without him and I’d still have to make the drive back early in the morning. There really wasn’t any way to win. Better to at least go home this evening so I could be with Bobby. I ended up going to a pub within walking distance of Dr. Sofen’s office to give myself some time to recharge and have an early dinner. The food was okay, but the beer I had went down well. Too well. I had to stop myself from getting another. I was not going to drown my problems in alcohol and then get into a fucking car accident or get a DUI. Especially not right after my goddamn psychiatrist was quizzing me on whether or not I was drinking in the first place. That would just make my life infinitely more unbearable. I was not my fucking alcoholic father. That made me pause for a minute and wonder if this wasn't in fact the same feeling my father had after he lost his job, the first time he really laid into the drink. It made me wonder if I wasn't so different from him, after all. And for a moment, I could sympathize with him. I could understand the loss of dignity, of self-worth, the anxiety, the feeling of rudderlessness that he must have felt trapped by his lack of education and lack of job prospects, unable to provide for his wife and young son anymore. I almost cried, but I choked back my feelings. I wasn't doing that in public. Not over my goddamn bastard of a father. Now that my blood sugar was up, I was starting to feel more like I was ready to take on the road. I needed to get out of there and away from thoughts of my father, anyway. Still, I could use a pick-me-up, so I grabbed a coffee to go from a little place next to where I parked and then headed back to the School. The radio didn’t bother me as much this time, and I settled on a station playing the blues. Some of the songs were fucking pathetic, whining over some typical shallow shit, but some of them spoke to me. When I pulled into my parking spot at the School, I was convinced enough that I programmed the channel into my radio so I wouldn’t struggle to find it again if I was in the mood for more of that. Bobby wasn't in our room, so I went looking for him. He wasn’t still in the dining hall, though it was after the usual dinner hour so that wasn’t surprising. He wasn’t in the living room, either. Eventually I found him holed up in his office working on some report on his students for Emma. He gave me a sweet kiss hello, which quickly devolved into something much more needy and passionate. And then I was pushing him backwards until he sat down on the edge of his desk and I practically tore his pants open. I dropped to my knees and worshipped his cock like I'd never had it before, like I'd never have it again, like it was the only thing left keeping me alive. He didn’t last long. When he came back to his senses, he pulled me up for a long kiss and then reached to undo my pants. I stopped him. I told him I shouldn’t have done that in the first place, that I loved him and needed him, but I needed to balance that with taking care of my emotional headspace. That I might be using sex as a crutch. He looked concerned, but nodded in agreement when I asked if we could go upstairs and talk. It was a long fucking walk back to our room through the mansion. I was growing more and more irrationally tense. Bobby could sense it, and put a comforting hand on my shoulder. When we got to our room, he suggested we take a bath together. I left him to draw the water and laid down on the bed. I could feel my pulse starting to race at the thought of what I was about to dump on him, but I wasn’t about to let things get out of control. I started taking deep breaths like they taught me to after Iraq, and using mindfulness meditation to just let things be as they were. I don’t know how much it really helped, but I was feeling a little calmer when Bobby came to get me. We stripped each other naked, and then he took my hand and led me to the bath. He must have dumped a scoop of the scented epsom salts I kept around into the water, because the room smelled of lavender. He got in first and then helped me lower myself into the water between his legs, my back to his front, his arms circling around me. I sighed and relaxed into his embrace. He didn’t make me talk, just held me. Eventually I started. I told him so much of what I’d told Dr. Sofen today, starting with how poorly I was handling things, how I couldn’t decide whether I needed more avoidance of the problem or a head on confrontation, about how stuck I was between my hurt and anger and the knowledge that all of this happened while something was wrong with Dom. I told him it was bad enough that I spent a few minutes today even considering leaving the School to get away from all of this, but I knew it wasn’t a feasible solution. My entire life was here. My work, my friends, my love… I couldn’t leave it all behind, even if Bobby was willing to come with me. Bobby was so good, just listening, but he interrupted me there to confirm that he would come with me if I did indeed need to go. That we were a pair now, and he wouldn’t forsake me when I needed him the most. I kissed his hand and hugged his arms tighter to my sides. I told Bobby how close I came to going on a bender in that pub after my appointment this afternoon. About the thoughts it raised about my father, and how much I hated feeling so weak that I could be just like him and yet sympathize with his plight. And then I told Bobby I was worried that I was starting to use sex with him to run away from my feelings. About how the psychiatrists had warned me about how confusing and messy sexual interactions would be in the wake of Iraq, about the dangers of promiscuity. I was in no danger of being unfaithful to Bobby, I hammered that home, but I didn’t want sex to be a crutch. I wanted it to be something that brought us together on equal terms. Bobby wondered if it was truly so bad, if what we were doing was making love. He said he’s more than willing to help me find solace and safety that way, as long as it isn’t hurting me. He asked what Dr. Sofen thought about it. And really, she didn’t exactly say that having sex with Bobby was bad, just… not to overdo it. Not to let it get out of control. Bobby kissed my neck and asked me if I thought that I’d gone back to work too soon. He wondered if I was trying to take on too much in an effort to distract myself from things that I needed to grapple with. Maybe he’s right, but at the same time I need something to give me purpose. I told him I’d see how things go over the next little while and then if I needed to maybe talk to Emma about giving one or both of the senior Lit classes over to Paige and just teaching the Writing class. It’s not like I needed the money to pay off debts, I just needed my benefits so I can stay in therapy. Bobby chuckled and said that even if I stopped teaching altogether Emma would probably just put me onto his benefits as a ‘spouse’. After all, even if we weren’t married yet, we were living together. Marry Bobby? Now that’s something that I never really considered. I’ve loved him as long as I’ve known him, yeah, but I’ve never thought about it in terms of marriage. I certainly never entertained the idea of marriage when I was with Dominik. But someday, sometime in the future? Who knows. Maybe Bobby and I can make things work in the long run. Right now I can’t even begin to think about that, so I’m just focusing on the present, on enjoying every precious moment I get with this man who I thought I lost so very long ago. The water was getting cold, so I suggested we get out. He agreed, so I pulled the plug and stood, pulling him up with me. We toweled one another dry gently, lovingly and then he pulled me in for a deep kiss. He thanked me for trusting him enough to open up to him like that. He said he knew it must have been so hard for me to do that. I sighed and told him it was worth it, that I felt reams better now than I did even after I talked to Dr. Sofen. And it was the truth, I did feel better. Lighter. Safer. I kissed him softly and told him I hoped that someday I’d be able to return the favour, to be there for him when he just needed me to listen and not be judgmental. We moved back into the bedroom. I looked at the clock. It was only 8:55, but I was ready for this day to be over. I was contemplating whether to read or not when I realized Bobby was looking at me appraisingly. I asked him what he wanted, and he blushed slightly. He said he knew I was worried about sex, but he wondered if he could at least return the favour for the fantastic blow job I gave him earlier. I grinned, sat down on the bed with my legs spread and my back against the headboard and told him to have at it. It wasn’t just a blowjob, though. It’s never been just a simple sex act with Bobby, and I love that about him. He kissed me all over my body, caressing shivers out of me, paying close attention to my breathing, my sighs, my moans of desire. He brought me so much pleasure, the whole time ignoring my dick. When he finally got there, I was practically begging him to suck me. He took his time, though. First he lapped gently at my sack, then tasting my precum and wetting the head fully, and then licking up and down and around the shaft. Finally, achingly, he took me in his mouth. When I came, it spread in waves across my body as my toes curled, my hands fisted in the sheets and my head knocked back against the headboard. Bobby came, too, grinding against the comforter beneath him. He climbed up my body and shared my seed with me in a searing kiss. Fuck, do I ever love this man. After we cleaned up a bit, Bobby tucked me into bed and pulled me to him. He was the big spoon, holding me tight. I wish I could say that I fell asleep easily this time, but I didn’t. But my thoughts stayed mostly in safe territory and I just concentrated on the feeling of Bobby next to me, of his breath on my neck. I had another nightmare, but at least this time I didn’t wake Bobby.

Some Nikolai Roslavets, for something a little different:

Some Nikolai Medtner for a Wednesday morning: