Running for Home - 67. March 18, 2022

March 18, 2022

It’s Bobby’s birthday today. We didn’t get the day off work, but that’s no big deal. I haven’t written much lately because I’ve been busy, and really there hasn’t been much to say. Rogue is still here. Still! Jesus fucking Christ! But I’m not letting it get to me anymore, not really. She’s left Bobby and me alone since he had his fight with her. I’m not sure if that’s her way of stepping away from their friendship, or if she’s just trying to give him some space before she tries her next move. She’s gone with the X-men on a mission this week, which I don’t really care about since they needed the manpower, but it makes me worry that her stay here is not going to be as short-term as I expected.

Whatever. I’m getting an escape from her anyway, since we are spending the School’s spring break holed up in Bobby’s condo in New York, just to get away from things for a while.

Since it’s a Friday night, I had invited all our friends out to a dinner for Bobby after we were done with teaching for the day. We went to a nice steakhouse in Katonah. Bobby got the surf and turf, I just stuck to a classic ribeye. We ended up getting a free slice of cake for Bobby since Jubilee and Sam insisted on telling the waiter that it was Bobby’s birthday. Oh well, at least the waitstaff didn’t do some stupid tacky song when they brought it out. This place was classier than that.

Bobby received a few birthday cards, but no gifts. He’d asked our friends a couple of weeks ago to make a contribution to an LGBTQ charity instead of getting him a gift if they planned on it. Boyscout Bobby, back in action. He let me pay for dinner, at least. We probably could have stayed at the restaurant longer for some drinks with everyone, but Bobby seemed eager to get on the road. Not that I blamed him, I was looking forward to spending the next week alone with him too.

We hopped into my car, and soon we were driving down the 684. I'd made the decision to be the driver preemptively so Bobby could enjoy as many drinks as he wanted with dinner. Not that he’d had more than just a couple. The atmosphere in the car was pretty relaxed. At least, it was until he asked me about my appointment with Dr. Sofen on Wednesday. I don’t know. I didn’t really tell him about it last time since there wasn’t all that much to tell. I’ve just been really focused the past week on work, and other than some hot times making love with Bobby I haven’t done much else. It’s been both a relief that I was able to find that focus and motivation to keep working and keep getting shit done, and also a worry. What about all the things I was ignoring?

I don’t know. To be honest, I felt I was making progress burying thoughts about Dom and the kidnapping and moving on with life. Rogue’s presence has given me something else to focus my angst on, though to be frank I felt a bit childish being so annoyed by her. I shouldn’t care what she thinks, since I know where Bobby stands and where my friends stand. But I know Bobby cares about what she thinks even if he was pretending it doesn't matter. He was deeply hurt by all this mess. What sucked the most was that there was nothing I could do about it. It's not like I could confront her and say something that would magically fix everything. No, this was something that was going to take time, if it ever was to change.

Did I even want it to change? Did I want him to be friends with her? Could I let go of the deep resentment I held for her, for how she inserted herself into our friendship and stole him away from me back when he wasn’t even mine to claim?

Ugh.

I didn’t talk about any of that with Bobby. I just told him about some cognitive behavioural therapy stuff we did and talked a little bit about how I did better not thinking about Dom lately. About how she wasn’t going to renew my prescription for the sleep aid since I didn’t seem to need that anymore. Here’s hoping I’m over the worst of it, and it wasn’t just a lucky streak of better rest. Bobby seemed happy with what I told him.

Soon enough we were in the city. Traffic wasn’t too bad, so we made good time. I asked Bobby if he wanted to go out to the bar or something after we dropped our bags off in his condo. He smiled softly and shook his head. He just wanted us to go to bed. And then he corrected me - it wasn’t his condo, it’s our condo. My heart lept into my throat for a moment. It made me feel all sorts of things - warm inside, yes, but also anxious and worried. Were we moving too fast? Would he really want to live with me, the longer he had to deal with me and my shitty personality? Would I drive a wedge between us, as I had with Dominik?

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. These worries, they were just distractions. It was pointless and took away from living in the present moment with Bobby, of valuing what I had right now and just letting it be what it will be. Acceptance. That’s what I need to feel, acceptance. I need to stop being incredulous that this is happening, that this is real. I need to stop worrying that I’m going to fuck this up and start just living my life with Bobby the best I can.

When we got into the apartment, I brought our stuff down to the bedroom while he took a bathroom break. I flopped down on the bed. I was going to treat Bobby very well tonight. It was his first birthday with us together, and I was going to make him feel like a king. Worship his body. Give him everything I had.

He took longer than I was expecting. With all my thoughts, I was very, very hard when Bobby walked into the room, smiling. He could see the tent in my pants. He asked me if I wanted a little snack before we went to bed. He had this mischievous look on his face. I said sure, but nothing big. He asked if some chocolate was okay. I nodded, and he went hunting for something in the kitchen. He returned with two bars, one already partly eaten. He laid down next to me, suddenly looking a little bashful.

I asked him what was up, and he explained that the partially consumed bar had psilocybin in it. Fucking magic mushrooms. Bobby told me that he probably had problems with depression off and on the last few years, but had never really sought out help. All he really knew is that his mood was pretty low. He was almost to the point of hating his life - everything just seemed so pointless and repetitive, but he tried to push that aside and just get through things. He was successful, after all, whether he was an X-man anymore or not. Hadn’t he already given enough of his life being a vigilante hero? Didn’t he deserve to be normal, even for a little while?

A coworker at the accounting firm had mentioned that her therapist was trying low-dose psilocybin therapy with her in a clinical trial because she had treatment-resistant depression, and it got Bobby wondering. He did some research and found out it’s completely safe at a low dose, and you won’t be tripping out, so he bought some psilocybin-laced chocolate on the internet and gave it a try.

Boyscout Bobby? Experimenting with drugs? Jesus, times have changed.

Bobby told me that having just a square or two of the chocolate bar makes things feel very pleasant, maybe a little more sensual, but nothing more than that. He found that when he was having dips in his mood, he could take a couple of doses on a Saturday and Sunday, and feel better the following week. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a little assist that kept him out of a psychiatrist’s office.

I told him that he should probably spend time with a shrink or a counsellor anyway, after all the shit he’s been through over the years. Then I joked that if he didn’t need one before, he was going to need one soon just from being in a relationship with me. Bobby shook his head, chuckling. He said I was right that he probably needed it, but he had just always felt like if he uncorked the bottle everything would come flooding out and he’d be even more of a mess than he already was. I nodded and told him that he should give it a try anyway. I was here for him, now, and would help him pick up the pieces should things fall apart.

He kissed me and said he’d think about it, maybe give it a try once things with me were a little more settled. I sighed, shaking my head. I didn’t want it to be my fault Bobby wasn’t seeking help to get things sorted in his head. I knew his parents had given him issues as a teenager and I can’t see how that’s changed much in the intervening time. His brother committing suicide can’t have done any good either. He told me in that note at Christmas he wanted to talk about it sometime, but we haven’t yet. Then there was all the shit with the X-men and risking his life so many times trying to be a hero. And, of course, there was his long-repressed sexuality. I was under no illusions that his brave decision to come out to the entire school during the Big Gay Talk was the end of any issues he had with his sexuality. I just didn’t know how or when they were going to come out. He was in the closet for a long time, and that had to have repercussions.

Bobby asked me if I wanted the plain chocolate or if I wanted to try the psilocybin. He was going to take a couple of squares of it. It was his birthday, after all, and he wanted to know what it was like to make love while under its influence. I’d never done shrooms before, but if Bobby said a square or two wasn’t going to do any harm, I might as well try it. He handed me a couple of squares and I ate them. It was delicious milk chocolate - high quality - but as it melted on my tongue, there was a little bit of graininess. Must have been powdered mushrooms. It wasn’t offensive, not at all. Bobby took a couple too, setting the chocolate aside on the nightstand and then lying back with a satisfied sigh.

I turned on my side next to him, propping my head up with my elbow. I started tracing light, lazy patterns over his chest and abdomen. I asked him what he had in mind for tonight. I told him all options were on the table. It was his birthday, after all. He smiled up at me and said he wanted to know what it was like to bottom. That caught me a little off guard, to be honest. Bobby hadn’t really given much of any indication of interest in exploring that side of things yet, so it was unexpected.

I told him that maybe we should just do a little ass play - some rimming, some fingering, just get him a little warmed up and stretched and I could give him a prostate massage while I blow him. That he’d need to practice taking things up there a bit before it would be comfortable receiving. I didn’t want his first time to have any pain associated with it whatsoever.

Well, Bobby was full of surprises tonight. He smiled and said I didn’t need to worry about that. Apparently, he has a few sex toys and a bottle of lube in the bottom drawer of that nightstand, and he’s played around with them a bit just to see what it was like. He said he enjoyed the sensations but didn’t really feel compelled to use them very often after the first couple of weeks of experimentation. He got them out once in a while just for the hell of it, and he admitted that he’d used them once over the Christmas break thinking about us together. He wanted to know if the real thing would be different than when he had just been using it to get off, different if it meant something. He wanted to give himself to me the way I’d given myself to him. He was ready.

I smiled softly and said who would I be to deny him that request on his birthday. He rolled onto his side towards me and kissed me deeply. We took our time getting out of our clothes while making out. After a while, I had climbed on top of him. I made my way down his body, kissing every inch of skin I could claim. I paid a little more attention to his nipples and belly button before I took his length in my mouth. I blew him for a while, doing my damndest to make it the best goddamn blowjob he’d ever had. I brought him to the edge three times before I let him out of my mouth, smiling up at him.

I grabbed his legs and flipped him over. I lay down on top of him, covering every inch of his body with my own. I whispered sweet nothings to him, all my love, as I nibbled on his earlobes and then the sides of his neck. I slowly worked my way down his back, giving it the same treatment I’d done to his front before I started blowing him.

Soon I arrived at my destination. I ran my tongue along Bobby’s crack. He gasped and shuddered. Massaging his glutes with both hands, I parted his cheeks and dove in, delighting in his smell, his taste, in the surprised and uncontrolled sounds he was making. He began to push up and back into me as my tongue probed into his most intimate place. He groaned loudly as his ring began to relax and my tongue entered into him. Bobby swore into the pillow beneath him, moaning out he couldn’t believe how good this felt, how good I was making him feel.

I was starting to feel something, something in my body, in my head. This warm, slightly buzzing, good feeling. Maybe a little bit of a sensation like gravity was a bit stronger. Things seemed to be mildly heightened, pleasantly so. Was this the psilocybin’s effect?

I lifted myself away from Bobby. He made a slightly disappointed mewl in response. I went into the nightstand to get the lube he had stored in the bottom drawer. Yes, there were indeed a few toys down there, and toys big enough that if Bobby was able to comfortably use then he shouldn’t have much if any trouble accommodating me. Feeling a little more confident that this would be a pleasant experience for Bobby’s birthday, I shifted back over to him, the bottle of lube in hand.

I squirted a little bit onto my fingertip and started rubbing it around the rim of Bobby’s pucker. I squirted a bit more onto my finger and gently inserted it into him. Bobby pushed back onto it, letting out a satisfied hum. I gently stretched his ring in different directions before sliding my finger deeper inside to press against his prostate. Bobby swore again, shuddering. I gently massaged it for a little bit, bringing my finger in and out of him.

“Please, Johnny, want to feel more,” Bobby gasped out.

I smiled. I removed my index finger, squirting more lube onto it and my middle finger. I gently inserted them both, Bobby taking them easily. He was pushing back onto my fingers, moaning softly. I alternated between scissoring my fingers back and forth to gently stretch him more and massaging his prostate.

“Fuck, that feels so good, John. So much better than anything I tried,” Bobby breathed out between moans.

His ring had relaxed further, he was probably ready to take on more. I wanted to be sure that was what he wanted. He was clearly enjoying this, but I didn’t want to rush him.

“You ready for another finger?”

“Fuck yes.”

I chuckled a little and removed my fingers. I squirted more lube onto them, along with my ring finger this time. I formed them into a tight cone and gently inserted them. Bobby moaned again, but he tightened up slightly. I backed off a bit. When I felt him relax, I pressed forward again, slowly sliding my digits into his passage. Bobby was taking long, ragged breaths. Before long, I was almost up to my knuckles. I started to massage his prostate again as I gently eased my fingers in and out.

“How are you feeling, Bobby?”

“So fucking good, Johnny. So good. Damn!” he gasped as I rubbed along his prostate with a little more force. “I think I’m ready for the real deal now, John. I want to feel you inside me. Really feel you.”

“Alright, Bobby. It’s going to be a bit more of a stretch. My fingers aren’t particularly fat, and my dick’s a bit bigger than three of them. You sure you don’t want me to-”

“Just fuck me already, Johnny! I need to feel it!” he insisted, giving me a pleading look over his shoulder.

I crawled up towards him and kissed him gently, removing my fingers. He sighed into the kiss. I pulled back and smiled at him.

“You will probably want to be on top, at least at first, so you can control the depth and the angle. You can choose how fast or slow to go that way.”

I grabbed a tissue out of the box on the bedside stand and wiped my fingers clean, then laid down on my back. Bobby had pulled his knees underneath him and sat up. He grabbed the bottle of lube from me and squirted a bunch into the palm of his hand. He took my length in hand, stroking up and down, coating me with the slick substance. It felt so fucking good to be in his hand.

Bobby set the lube down on the bed and then climbed over top of me. He grabbed the base of my cock, aiming, and lowered himself onto it. As I penetrated his ring, he gasped and tightened around me, almost pushing me out. But he pressed on, slowly, and I was sliding into him inch by inch.

He was so hot around me, silken and tight. I don’t know why, but there was part of me that always wondered if he would be cold inside because of his powers, but in this moment, in this sexual heat, he was scorching.

Soon, he bottomed out, moaning. He started to lift himself, but I held him still. I told him to take a minute, to relax, to just let himself adjust before going any further. We had all the time in the world. He smiled down at me, then leaned forward and kissed me hotly.

We started moving, first him by himself, then as I became more confident he was enjoying himself I began to thrust up into him. He would alternatingly bite his lip and let out these gasping moans, his gaze locked onto mine. We were communing, physically and spiritually, on a level that I’d never felt before.

I flipped us over so now he was beneath me, a pillow under the small of his back. I started to thrust into him, with him making small movements to meet me. We kissed deeply, then resumed that powerful locked gaze. After a while I started to pick up on his reactions, the timing, the angle that got him going the most. I made it my mission, I was going to make him come, and I was going to make him come harder than he ever had in his entire life.

I picked up speed, sweat sliding down my back, sliding off his brow. My body felt almost on fire, and he was on fire with me. Our breathing was becoming ragged, tension mounting. And then, right there, I could feel it. I could feel it starting to overtake him and I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. I poured everything I had into him, everything I had to give him and more. Everything he deserved for loving me, for choosing me.

He tightened around me, crying out my name. His seed spilled between us, and I felt myself overtaken by a wave of overwhelming sensation as I erupted inside him. My entire body was rigid, and he was clamped on me like he’d never let me go, never let me be alone again. I cried out his name, over and over, swearing to God and the universe my love.

It was a miracle, just for us. Just for our love.

Soon we were collapsing into the afterglow, kissing, united. I was sated, exhausted, drained but buzzing with this deep, gratifying contentment at the same time. And Bobby? If I thought before that the love in his eyes when he looked at me was overwhelming, it was nothing compared to now.

Our fate was sealed. There was no going back from this.

There was nothing that I wanted more.