Running for Home - 61. March 1, 2022

March 1 2022

Dominik woke up today.

Cecilia came to tell me that after my first class. My stomach revolted and I had to sprint down the hall to the washroom and ended up hugging the porcelain for a few minutes.

I felt like such a pussy. It’s not like I didn’t know this was going to happen. It’s not like I just expected him to remain unconscious in the medlab indefinitely. It’s just… I don’t fucking know. Whatever it was that I was expecting my reaction to him waking up to be, it doesn’t matter. In that moment I was overwhelmed.

I made it through my second morning class somehow, though Quentin and his gang were acting up. It was as if they knew that today of all days was a great one to egg me on. I didn’t tolerate it for very long before I snapped and sent Quentin and the Cord twins down to Emma’s office for some discipline. I should have sent Vincent Stewart too, probably, but he wasn’t being as much of a shit so I let him off. I don’t like pawning my problems off on Emma, but fuck if I was going to deal with this today.

My stomach was still unsettled at lunch, so all I ate was some Saltine crackers with ginger tea. Not that it fucking helped. Bobby was worrying over me the entire time, which only made me feel worse. I just wanted to put it out of mind as best as I could and get through the rest of the day. I didn’t want to be coddled. I didn’t want to talk about it. Not yet.

Writer’s Craft was fine. Thank god. I am so lucky to have those kids at the end of my day this semester. They are motivated and if I’m having a shitty day I always seem to be able to bring myself back up for them. Maybe today wasn’t the best example of that, but I managed. I’m glad I actually had something to teach, and that it wasn’t just a work period. If it had been a work period, I probably would have gotten caught up in my head. No, I know I would have, because that’s exactly what happened during my prep period immediately afterwards. I got shit-all done as far as marking, but at least I managed to scrawl down a basic outline of what needs to happen in tomorrow’s classes. Mostly, though, I was just sitting there at my office desk lost in a wilderness of emotions, stuck between the pervasive trauma of what Dominik did to me in January and the deep pity I felt for him and his sick brain. I was stuck, torn between my grief and anger over being kidnapped, raped and humiliated, and the part of me that knows he wasn’t fully culpable, that maybe, just maybe he deserves my forgiveness.

But I’m not ready to forgive him, not yet.

My thoughts started to go to very dark places as I contemplated the fact that Emma hadn’t really told me what they planned on doing with him now that he’s starting to convalesce. Would he go free? Should he go free? He had to face some sort of consequences. Had to. I can’t accept that he was so far gone that he can’t take some form of responsibility for what he did to me, no matter how fucked up his brain was. He was functioning, goddamn it. He was running a new business. No matter how skewed his judgement was, I can’t accept that his behaviour was fully from an irrational, incompetent mind.

Just take the fact that he chose to drug me before he started raping me so that I would feel good, so that I would get off with him. He wasn’t raping me to try and hurt me. He was raping me because he needed to prove to me that I was his man. That I needed him as much as he needed me. No, maybe this isn’t a good example. No rational mind could go into a situation like that and honestly expect me to come around to him.

Fuck.

Just as the wheels in my head started to spin out of control there was a knock on my office door. It was Daniel. I didn’t want to see him like this, but I let him in anyway.

He wanted advice. Connor caught him alone in the library over the weekend and apologized again. Daniel told me he’d been avoiding Connor since the assembly because he just didn’t know what to think or feel. I asked him how he’s feeling now. Daniel said that he doesn’t understand it. It’s like he feels this sadness at the same time as feeling vindicated because he knows that Connor is serious. He had to be serious, or Connor wouldn’t have come out in front of the whole school like he did. But Daniel didn’t understand why he felt so sad.

I told Daniel that he was probably grieving for what he had with Connor before all this began, grieving for what could have been if they could have been just a little braver together. He nodded and said that maybe I was right. Now he just didn’t know what to do.

I asked him what it was that he was trying to make a decision about. I guess Connor told Daniel that he understood if Daniel couldn’t forgive him, but he wanted him to know that he loved him, that he’d always loved him, and that he wished he hadn’t been too afraid to say it before it was too late.

I asked Daniel if he still loved Connor. He bit his lip and looked down at his hands, silent a moment before nodding. He told me there’s a part of him that cried out for joy when Connor told him he loved him, but that was when he felt overcome with that overwhelming sadness. He didn’t know how to react in that moment, not to all those strong feelings and he kind of ran out on Connor.

Daniel never told Connor he loved him, either. Not back then, back before things went to hell. He’d been just as scared of his feelings, of where things were leading. He just didn’t have the luxury of hiding once things got too intense and Connor started spreading the rumors about Daniel. And now he didn’t know if he could trust Connor.

I told Daniel that those were all perfectly valid feelings, and he shouldn’t feel guilty for running away from Connor. He’d laid something pretty heavy on Daniel. But I also told him that he didn’t want to be like me, that he didn’t want to spend years hanging on to his anger over being hurt. Daniel nodded, saying he wasn’t really even angry about the whole thing anymore. It was just that sadness, and he was having so much trouble getting over that. I asked Daniel whether he could forgive Connor, even if he didn’t feel like he could trust him. Daniel sighed. He already had forgiven him, even before the Big Gay Talk.

He just didn’t know what to do now.

I got up from my desk chair and walked over to the window. I told Daniel that love is complicated, and you can love someone but know that it’s best not to be in a relationship with them - especially after they’ve hurt you. But there are also times when, despite everything, it’s worth it to try again. To give it another go. But that was a hard path to take. It wouldn’t be the same as before, and you’d have to avoid the pitfalls of holding grudges, of holding yourself back. You’d have to learn to love again.

I told Daniel that I couldn’t make that decision for him, but that I’d be here for him regardless of what he chose to do. I told him not to rush to make a decision, either.

Daniel asked me if I thought it was a good idea to try being friends with Connor. I told him that I thought that it would be tough for them to be friends with the way they both feel right now. That it could lead to misunderstandings about where their relationship was going. That he could lead Connor into thinking he still had a chance.

Daniel looked down at his hands again and mumbled that maybe he wanted Connor to think that. That maybe he wasn’t as on the fence as he thought.

I sighed and told him that maybe the best thing he could do was find some time to have a long, private conversation with Connor about their feelings and to just hash things out and lay things bare. It would be tough, but it would probably ease some of his doubts. Maybe then Daniel could make his decision with a clear conscience.

Daniel nodded, then asked me how I was doing. I gave him a weak smile and told him I was fine. He called me a liar, saying he heard I threw up between periods this morning. Absolutely nothing escapes the gossip wheel in this school, so I shouldn’t be surprised that Daniel found out about that, but fuck! I told him that I wasn’t sick, just having a bad day mental health wise. I didn’t want him to worry about me, it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

He got up from the chair and gave me a hug. He said he read up on people who were kidnapped and he knows it must have been really tough. I told him it was, but I’m better every day. Just some days are better than others.

We went to supper after that and Daniel went to sit with his friends. I sat at my usual table with Bobby and the gang. Things were a little quiet. I’m not sure if I was bringing down the mood, or if everyone was feeling a little tired. Bobby asked me if I wanted to see Dominik tonight, and if I wanted him to come with me. I shook my head. I told him I wasn’t going downstairs, not tonight. I didn’t have it in me.

After supper finished, I was mentally exhausted. I thought about going straight to bed, but I decided against it. I was worried about what my dreams would hold for me, even with Bobby there to hold me. Fucking pathetic, but whatever. I asked Jubilee if she wanted to do something. She suggested cards, and got Jean-Paul and Piotr to join us. Bobby begged off to do some marking he’d fallen behind on, so that left four of us. He gave me a soft kiss and told me not to worry about interrupting him if I needed him.

We decided to play Euchre at Jean-Paul’s suggestion. I’d never played before, but I picked up on the rules pretty quick. I played for a while partnered up with Jubilee, and then we switched things up and I was partnered with Jean-Paul. I’m not particularly good at card games on a good day. I think Jean-Paul was mildly frustrated with my amateur level of play. Serves him right for picking a game popular in Canada. At least he didn’t grumble about it too much. Maybe it’s because he knew what Dom’s awakening was doing to me.

Eventually we played the last hand, and they decided on going to relax in the living room in front of the TV. I figured they’d probably end up watching the news or some insipid sitcom, so I said my goodnights and headed upstairs. In my room, I thought for a few moments about working some things out with the cognitive behavioural therapy workbook that Dr. Sofen had given me, but I didn’t feel up to it. I picked up my copy of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, laid down on the bed and began to read.

It took me a few minutes to really be able to concentrate, but eventually I fell into it. Realist drama isn’t necessarily my thing, but I’ve always been able to lose myself in my reading, in these fictional worlds. I’m almost surprised that I was still able to do it tonight, what with everything going on. It was a fucking miracle, one I was glad of.

At some point I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew Bobby was softly kissing my forehead and pulling the book out of my hands. I sighed, not knowing what I had done to deserve having him in my life like this. He apologized for waking me, but I waved him off. I didn’t want to sleep in my clothes. I’d much rather be naked, cuddled up against him with his strong arms around me. So I stood up and started to strip off my clothes. Bobby left my book on the bedside table and watched me admiringly until I told him to get undressed. He smiled, stood next to me and did as he was told.

It didn’t take long for our naked bodies to be pressed together, exchanging passionate kisses as our manhoods rose to their full glory. And I felt it. Felt that need, deep inside me. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that yet, though, so I buried it. I pushed Bobby down onto the bed, crawled between his legs and swallowed his length in one go. His gasps were music to my ears, his taste ambrosia to my tongue.

It was delicious and wonderful and hot and everything that I wanted in that moment, but that need… Shit. That need. It was still there.

I pulled off Bobby and looked up into his honey-brown eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. He pulled me up to his mouth for a kiss. It was so pure, so full of love, so enrapturing that when he pulled back I was gasping for air.

And I needed it. Needed him. More than ever, I needed him right now.

“Bobby?”

“Yes, Johnny?”

“I…” I swallowed, suddenly afraid of the words.

“What is it?”

“I need…” I hesitated, closing my eyes. When I opened them, he captured my gaze with his own. His hand was stroking my cheek so gently. He would never… He would never hurt me, not on purpose. “I need you to fuck me, Bobby.”

Bobby swallowed, nodding. “Are you sure? I mean, if it’s what you really want, Johnny, sure we can… I mean… You’ve had a tough day. I just don’t want you to do this for the wrong reasons and then regret it.”

I shook my head. “I trust you Bobby. I need this. I need to feel you, to feel us, connected.”

“Alright John. But I’m not just going to fuck you. I’m going to make love to you. You mean everything to me and I want our first time to be perfect.”

He pulled me to him and kissed me deeply. I felt so hot and needy, but so wanted. I broke the kiss and reached over into the drawer of the bedside table and retrieved the bottle of lube we’d been using for hand jobs and jerking off. I popped the cap and then poured some into my hand, warming it before slathering it up and down his steely cock. I rose up to straddle him, positioning him at my entrance. I could feel him, feel him pressed against my asshole. I swallowed, closing my eyes.

“Johnny, we don’t have to do this, we- Oh God!” Bobby gasped as I descended onto him, not stopping until he was buried deep inside me, as deep as possible. I cried out, as much from the feeling of penetration as from the deep emotions it released. .

I was Bobby’s. He was mine.

I opened my eyes as his hand came up to wipe my tears away. Tears I didn’t even realise were falling. “Oh, Johnny…”

“I fucking love you, Bobby. This is for us.”

He looked about to question me again, but then he could see, see that my tears were tears of release, not of something painful and dark. I leaned forward and kissed him, grinding myself onto him. We moaned into one another’s mouths. I rose up and descended again, relishing in the feeling of him inside me, my greatest love. Slowly, his hips began to thrust to meet my motion. Soon, we were in sync. After a few minutes, he pulled me tight to him and rolled us over so I was on my back.

He kissed me deeply, whispering to me how much he loved me, how good it felt, how lucky he was to have me in his life. It made me want to cry, because I felt the same way. He slowed the pace down, paying close attention to every gasp, every moan, every exquisite shudder he drew out of me.

It was magic, pure magic. Better than I could have imagined, better than I deserved. But it was Bobby, and he was giving me everything. He was bringing me higher and higher, and soon I was at my limit. My body convulsed as my orgasm ripped through me. I cried out his name, barely coherent, barely registering Bobby shouting my name, burying himself as deep into me as possible and filling me with his hot seed.

After a minute of rigid tension, he collapsed down upon me, kissing me. We lay there, panting, unable to speak, caressing one another. Being together.

And then he asked me if it was okay. I chuckled and told him it was lightyears beyond okay - that I came without even touching myself. That seemed to satisfy him but still... I knew his secret, unsaid question - was he better than Dominik?

It was better than Dom on an average uncaring day, but I would be lying if I said that it was better than Dom at his best. He was my lover for years, and could play me like a fiddle when he put his mind to it. But Bobby made me come without even touching myself on his first try, something that always takes a fair amount of effort. That fucking had to bode well for our future sex life.

We lay there for a while, basking in our afterglow. Thankfully my mind stayed mostly focused on the feeling of Bobby, his weight still half on me, his head on my chest, and not on what was going on with Dom. If only it was that easy - just keep having sex and keep reinforcing my love for Bobby, and it would protect me from the shitstorm of emotions and problems I had to deal with.

Eventually we got up and took a long, hot shower, slowly soaping one another up and just being together. When we finally went to bed, with clean sheets, Bobby pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head. I could tell he wanted to say something, but he thought better of it. After a few moments, he told me he loved me again and wished me goodnight before shutting off the light. I fell asleep quickly, cradled against my love.

That didn’t stop the nightmares.

And that didn’t stop him from holding me, calming me down, helping me return back into my fitful sleep.