Tommy asked me a question and I really had no idea what he’d asked. Couldn’t he tell I was lost in my own thoughts? Did he expect me to pay attention to everything he’d been telling the kitty and Frankie… or had he been singing her a kitty ditty?

He repeated the question and it was ridiculously obvious. “Why are you asking me? If it’s time to feed them, we should feed them.”

“What the heck?” he asked. I may have been a bit more snappish than I’d intended. Tommy and Frankie (and possibly the kitty as well) all tilted their heads to the side. “I asked if you wanted to make us dinner. We already fed the kids. But we can order in if you don’t feel like cooking.”

“Whatever. Sure. Let’s order in. Pizza again?” Why was he being so irritating? Or, more to the point, why was I suddenly finding him so irritating? Maybe it was a good thing we broke up, because clearly he got on my nerves after spending so much time together.

I almost opened my mouth to tell him so, but he crossed the room so quickly that I hadn’t even realized he’d moved. Tommy took my hands in his. “Johnny, you’re shaking.”

Low blood sugar. Of course. I was plastered with all kinds of technology to continuously monitor my glucose and deliver insulin and yet this crap still happened. “Shit. I’ll be right back,” I told him.

“Hold her and I’ll go get it,” he said. He shoved the squirming kitten into my hands and was across the room before I knew it.

“I’m not a child, I can take care of it,” I grumbled.

“She’s sick of me and Frankie’s exhausted,” he said with a wry smile. “I was about to hand her over anyway. This just gives me an excuse.”

I rolled my eyes and called after him, “It’s in the drawer next to my bed, now that I supposedly only have to test once a day to calibrate the frakking monitor!”

I settled the kitten on her back in my lap and she play-fought with my finger, while I tried to remind myself that this was just something friends did. Yesterday he retrieved my phone for me when I randomly left it on a bookcase and, the day before, I poured him a drink when he said he was thirsty and then became enthralled by a toilet paper commercial. This wasn’t any different.

He handed my testing kit to me, but didn’t take the kitten back. He just twiddled his fingers at her while I got out the strips to test, trying to get over the fact that I never tested in front of people. Because this wasn’t people, this was Tommy.

“Do you need to concentrate or can I make fun of you for the other item you keep in your nightstand?” he asked, bumping his shoulder against mine lightly. I didn’t look up. Frak. Pricking my finger in front of him was nothing compared to what he just saw.

“Forget everything that happened in the past hundred twenty seconds. I command you!” I said in my best spooky wizard voice. It was worth a try, but of course he ignored me.

“What kind of beast is that thing from? Why is it sparkly? Do you have any idea how big that is? I might get a complex — of course I can’t compete with a tentacle monster.”

“You’re the one who recommended it. I was just taking your advice,” I said with as much calm, matter-of-factitude as I could manage. “And that isn’t from a tentacle monster.”

“What?!” he asked, and I could feel his shoulder shaking with suppressed laughter.

“You said I should check out that dragon website,” I explained.

“Oh man, I should have gotten a better look! Wait — I’ll be right back!” he said. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back onto the couch.

“One look will suffice.”

“I have so many questions!”

“Fine. We might as well get this out of the way.”

“I told you to get that beast?!”

“Not specifically, it was a suggestion you made at Greg’s wedding. I just happened to take it literally,” I said. Actually, his words were something to the effect of, ‘Go fuck yourself with a giant barbed dildo!’ and mentioned the website. I couldn’t help myself — curiosity was always my downfall. “You know I read a ton of fantasy and sci-fi. What did you expect to happen?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the moment he remembered. “Wow. That’s kind of…” he trailed off.

“You had other questions?” I asked, to keep him from getting wrapped up in how much I’d pissed him off that day.

“What kind of dick is it?” he blurted.

“A faerie dragon or something. It must have been dangerous to harvest, don’t you think?”

That got Tommy giggling outright. “Yeah, probably. I wonder how many men died just to bring you bizarre pleasure…”

“It definitely looked interesting, but I haven’t used it. However, I did order a box of miniatures as party favors for Chance’s bachelor party,” I told him. Then, remembering his earlier, ridiculous comment about comparative sizing, I added, “And you’re perfect. No complexes allowed.”

I turned back to the task at hand and checked the reading on the monitor. “I’ll grab a juicebox. I forgot we were eating late and didn’t have a snack.”

“Stay there, she’s finally comfy and happy,” he said, tickling the kitten one last time before he dashed into the kitchen.

“They’re on the top shelf of the cupboard!” I called to him, and I heard muffled cursing and the scrape of his magenta stool.

This episode was my fault —I should have tiny snacks every few hours regardless of when dinner would be— but I still grumbled to Frankie and the kitten about the uselessness of technology. If I had to start testing a dozen times a day again to re-calibrate the infernal device, why even bother? Frankie snored away in the nest-box, completely ignoring me, but the kitten nodded along in agreement and swatted at my finger with her tiny needle claws extended.

“You have two fridges and yet you drink from a juice box.” Tommy handed me a fruit punch juice box, bendy straw all ready to go. I took it from him and hummed a little at the yummy taste that brought back fond childhood memories. I put the kit away while I drank, and Tommy asked, “So… Indian? We’ve had pizza and Chinese way too often lately. And we polished off the leftovers for breakfast.”

“Indian sounds great,” I said and he began dialing his phone. More specifically, since nobody had rotary phones anymore, he told his phone to call ‘that Indian place near John.’ Tommy conversed with the woman about her children for a few minutes —the man made friends everywhere he went— and then ordered our usual before hanging up and plopping back down on the couch next to me.

I owed him an apology, or at least an acknowledgement of his awesomeness. Tommy was low-key about the blood sugar situation, let me direct it, and didn’t berate me for letting it happen… all the while joking with me as if everything was normal.

“Do you think kids these days know the origins of the terms ‘dialing’ and ‘hanging up’ the phone?” I asked him.

“Did you just say ‘kids these days’?” Tommy giggled and poked me in the side. “Thank goodness you live in an apartment, or you’d spend all your free time yelling at kids to get off your lawn!”

A dimple flashed at me, though his focus appeared to be entirely on the kitten in my lap. She still lay on her back, valiantly fighting sleep and my finger. As soon as Tommy began petting her head, she lost both battles and slipped purringly into dreamland.

“I’m afraid she’ll wake up if we move her,” I whispered theatrically, but it had been an hour since she last napped and we all knew she’d sleep for a while now. I just really enjoyed cuddling her when she was being quietly fluffy like this. Tommy rolled his eyes and settled down on the other side of the couch and turned on the television. Before he could select a show, I summoned my courage and said, “Thank you, by the way.”

I was truly terrible at touchy-feely communication, and Tommy knew it. He just shrugged and said, “It was nothing. Can I tell Greg about your dragon dick?”

“Faerie dragon dick. You can tell him about it. But someone else may have told him by now. The dogs were here to visit Frankie, along with Chance and Xander, the day the package arrived…” I shrugged and Tommy laughed, knowing exactly how that scene had played out. It was always a treat to watch Chance’s Luna go berserk whenever we opened boxes. She panted and scrabbled at the top until the contents were revealed, at which point she stole the bubble wrap and merrily raced around the room with it streaming behind her. The other dogs would pretend to give chase, allowing her to ‘slip out of their grasp’ every single time. So I had to open the package, which meant Chance and Xander saw the contents and teased me mercilessly as only my two closest friends could.

In large part due to that stupid, sleepy, spectacular kiss, Tommy and I spent the past week avoiding physical contact, which only served to increase the potency of every single platonic, accidental touch. Whenever Tommy was just out of arms’ reach, there was also no way to avoid gazing at him. Occasionally, I even caught him staring at me as if trying to solve a particularly vexing puzzle.

As a rule, I left my bedroom door unlocked in case of a kitten emergency and, if he thought I might still be awake, Tommy occasionally knocked on my door to show me the kitten hitting another milestone. But the time I was sent off to bed, I was as hard as titanium and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. There were only two options available to me: lying in bed attempting to sleep while my cock mocked me mercilessly, or taking care of business in the shower. For once, I chose the latter — if nothing else, I could use a shower after my little episode earlier, and nothing would come of it aside from a cleaner body.

I hadn’t maintained an erection to completion since Tommy and I broke up nine months ago. I still couldn’t believe I’d confided in my sister about it, but she had suspected and she could see right through my attempts to prevaricate. Now Joy constantly pointed out the correlation between the timing of losing him and the ED, and ignored the fact that correlation does not indicate causation. It had probably been coming on for years and it was entirely possible that depression just exacerbated my existing dysfunction. I hadn’t bothered trying to relieve my nightly erections since we got the kitten, but I had no reason to believe anything had changed. Still, Joy could not be swayed from the foolish belief that my troubles could be cured by the proper application of the powers of Tommy’s magical healing dick.

However, the thought did have some merit for fantasy purposes.

I stepped into the hot spray and eyed the array of bottles along the shower wall. Tommy’s bodywash, shampoo, and conditioner still stood there —I couldn’t bring myself to throw them away— along with my own. I liked to choose the scent based on my mood, even if that meant installing plastic shelving to contain it all. As creepy as it was to fantasize about a man who was mere yards away, I might as well embrace the fact that it would happen whether or not it was my intent. So I used Tommy’s things, breathing the scent of him in as I did so.

Once I was clean and my erection still hadn’t subsided —likely due to olfactory memories— I closed my eyes. Rather than remembering our X-rated moments from the fall, I found myself thinking about last week’s kiss. He opened to me and the tender, innocent warmth of the instinctive caress suddenly flared into a bonfire.

My imagination took over. I began to stroke my shaft in slow motion and my other hand fondled my balls.

Tommy was overcome with passion and pulled his shirt over his head before straddling my thighs. He pushed his hands under my shirt, encouraging me to take it off as well before fusing his lips to mine once again. My hands roamed up and down his torso, tugging lightly on his nipple piercing and eliciting a decadent moan from his lips. His hands gripped my shoulders for balance. He rocked his hips, grinding against me.

Strengthening my grip, my hand sped up to reflect the motion.

“John, please…” he begged, lust turning his voice into a deep rasp that had my cock throbbing almost painfully. I could feel precum wetting my briefs beneath him. “Please… I need… I want… please!”

Acquiescing, I reached into his scrubs, wrapped my hands around his cock, and thanked god that I never removed the lube and condoms from the side table’s drawer. He growled and pushed my shoulders back against the couch before climbing off my lap.

“Pants off. Now. And brace your hands on the back of the couch,” he demanded, his dark eyes filled with fire and lust and love, as he stripped off the last of his garments. I promptly did as he said.

I slowed my hand again, savoring the anticipation, and the other moved to caress my hole.

Tommy’s right hand reached around to stroke my cock as the other parted my ass cheeks. He hummed appreciatively at the sight of my eager hole fluttering before licking a stripe up from my ass to my balls. He traveled back down, his tongue circled my hole, and then went to town. I begged and pleaded. He laughed low and patted my ass and I obediently kneeled on the couch cushions. His free hand grabbed my hip and within moments his mouth was replaced by his cock. He slowwwly pushed inside.

I attempted to do the same with three fingers, but I hadn’t prepped myself. That was the difference between fantasy and reality. Regardless, I managed to push them in, enjoying the stretch and burn.

As soon as I adjusted, Tommy began to move. Accelerating with each stroke.

Struggling to hold back my moans, I rocked back and forth between fucking up into my right hand and back into my fingers. Then I lost my balance. My feet slipped out from beneath me. My hands were occupied. My elbow knocked over every single bottle of bath product. They clattered and thumped onto the floor of the shower, as did I.

My fingers were forced deeper into my ass, pressing hard on my prostate. The sensation was too much, the fantasy of Tommy’s dominant unrelenting thrusts overwhelming. Before I could stop myself I released a loud moan which may have been Tommy’s name. My hand continued to stroke my cock faster and faster. My balls drew up. I couldn’t stop.

The door of the bathroom flew open.

“John?!” Tommy stood in the doorway and his eyes, wide with fright then surprise, slowly traveled along my body before they locked onto mine.

I couldn’t look away, nor did he.

I couldn’t stop.

He took a step inside. His lips parted in an O and I remembered how they felt wrapped around my cock.

Then the impossible happened. My world exploded white — the kind of white that was every color of the rainbow melded together. My cock throbbed as it released months of come, emptying my balls completely. It went on and on, my fingers still pressed deep inside and my brain unable to correct the issue, or at least unwilling to do so. I gasped for oxygen. Ropes of come painted the walls, the shower door, and my hand.

Perhaps I was wrong. In fact, my sister had underestimated the situation. My ED was cured by mere proximity to the almighty power of Tommy’s magical healing dick.