Page 66 of Forever Not Yours

I needed things to change. It was just terrifying to contemplate.

“We can do this, Bash,” she said. “Youcan do this. For once, look after yourself and trust me to hold the fort here. I’ve got you. I hope in a few weeks’ time, you’ll be able to see that putting your trust in me was worthwhile.”

I nodded. Perhaps I should let go. Just for a bit. I’d try, at least.

Words couldn’t describe how proud I was of him. Two weeks later, I got home to him once again napping on the sofa with Flossiebouncing around my feet, his laptop still whirring away on the coffee table.

Last week, he’d been terrified, getting paranoid about everything. Then his assistant or whoever she was had set him up with a schedule. One I absolutely approved of. Check in in the morning, set her tasks to complete for the day, letting him still be in control, and then checkout at three. No contact allowed after that so he could rest. She seemed hardcore but also gave him everything he needed. Reassurance. Time. She was the sort of person who gently pushed him to be kind to himself, work to a calmer schedule, get things done and trust her to finish up the day making sure they stayed on track.

He wasn’t on his own in this, and it helped. At least, I think it did, because we seemed to fall into a new rhythm without much fuss. I got up in the morning, and he’d already be on the phone, sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea at hand. Then he’d sit with me for breakfast and walk me out when I left for work, taking Flossie for her run around the park. He’d cut down on the gym to three days a week and had started to sleepa little better. Small victories in a stormy sea where we were simply taking one day at a time.

He also had a new medication schedule and was trying to get the hang of a different pump system that would hopefully make his life easier, and most of all, he was trying hard to relax, even though he could barely keep his eyes open in the evenings, more often than not falling asleep before I could get him out for an evening walk. Then he’d be up in the night before letting me take him back to bed and hold him until his breathing finally evened back out.

We’d get there. We always did.

Today, though, I let him sleep whilst I had a shower, then woke him up with a gentle kiss because I was a soppy romantic at heart, even though I didn’t always show it. I didn’t often do gentle or making love. It wasn’t who I was, and even though I craved a long dirty kiss, especially from him, at the end of the day, I needed him just as much as he needed me, and that was a new vibe I was learning to embrace.

I had to believe in that, however unbelievable it still felt. If I didn’t, I would go mad.

“You have a parcel,” he mumbled, stretching that body of his, long arms over his head and his legs under the table. A faint whiff of sweat.

“Oh, nice,” I said, running my fingertip down his chest. A perky nipple peeked through the fabric.

“I’ve ordered Flossie’s dog food so it comes once a month. Saves us having to remember to stock up.”

“Good job,” I said, slowly getting up. “Why don’t you go shower?”

“Do I smell?” He sniffed his armpits.

“You do. Quick shower and I’ll make dinner. Sound good?”

He mumbled something but did as he was told, shuffling towards the bathroom leaving his upturned phone on the table, the screen nice and green. He was fine. Blood sugars good. The mess in the sink was evidence of him having made himself a proper lunch and, of course, the numerous cups of tea he’d drunk.

Decaf. His dad would be proud. Just as proud as I was.

The parcel then. I ripped it open and stroked the leather inside. A harness, heavy, yet soft, just the way I liked them. All leather with clasps that would complementhis still pale skin. I tugged at it. Not much give, so I could strap him down the way I wanted to. Keep him in place as I fucked him, right where I needed him.

As I said, I didn’t do love-making. I fucked, and he got fucked. It was the way we both rolled, and it was such a sweet relief that I could do this with him. That he got me, no questions asked, because he never had. He just took it. All of it. And if I was reading him right, he absolutely loved it.

Especially the way his breath hitched catching me staring at him coming out of the bathroom, stark naked and rubbing that mop of hair with a hand towel.

Glorious. That was all I could think. It wasn’t often I saw him bare like this. Nothing but skin. No machinery. No tubing. All that remained were faint grey streaks where surgical tape had held the infusion site in place.

“Come here,” I called to him, lowering the harness in my hands.

He stopped dead and stared back at me. Perhaps my scrubs weren’t screaminglet me fuck you, but therest of my body surely was, my erection clearly visible through the fabric. I swallowed my breath when he shot me a cheeky smile.

“Do I want to know what you have planned this time?” he sassed.

“Colour, Bastien?”

He let the towel drop to the floor, taking that smile with it, but his dick was already in the game, thickening under my gaze.

“Green,” he said softly.

I curled my finger at him, making him slowly step towards where I was standing by the kitchen counter. The parcel in front of me spilled out the remaining content onto the surface. Good lube. Condoms. Box of J-lube. I had plans, lots of them, but I was a patient man and carefully peeled the cellophane from the first bottle of lubricant, flipped the cap open and placed it down next to me.

Ready.

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