Chapter 9
Jonah
Lars’ car is in the driveway already when I get home. I drove around for a while again tonight. I thought buying the hood last week would stop me from sitting in the parking lot of Kink Closet, but I’ve been drawn there anyway. There’s so much more I want to go in and see, touch, bring home to try out for real. And I can’t stop thinking about Adrian. Not in that way, but as someone who might have answers to the questions that won’t stop plaguing me, like how do I tell Lars about all of this? But I haven’t been able to work up the nerve to go inside again. Maybe if I didn’t have to talk to him in person, it would be easier.
After our talk a week ago, I’ve noticed Lars pulling back, no doubt trying to give me space. He hasn’t asked why I’ve been quiet, or tried to initiate sex, or even asked why I’ve been getting out of bed at night to sit on my laptop in the living room. I can feel him watching me some mornings, can practically hear the questions as they form in his mind, but he never says them out loud, and I couldn’t be more grateful. I know I need to tell him about all of this, but I just don’t know how.
I haven’t touched the hood since I stashed it in the guest room closet, partially because I haven’t had much time alone since I bought it, but also because I’m afraid of how it made me feel, how it made me need.
I take a deep breath and get out of my car to go inside.
I know I have to tell him, and I want to. But once I tell him, things will get real. Either he’ll think I’m a weirdo, or he’ll be up for experimenting, and I’m honestly not sure which of those two possibilities freaks me out more.
I step inside and don’t see Lars anywhere, so I head to the bedroom. Finding it empty as well, I flop down on the bed with a tired groan, just as my phone pings from my pocket. Wiggling my hand into the confined space, I free my phone and check the message.
Lars: What are you doing?
I cock my head as I read the message, trying to figure out if there’s some sort of hidden context. Is he trying to sext with me or something? I mean, we used to do that all the time when we first got together, but not in the past six years or so.
Jonah: Nothing, what are you doing?
Lars: Are you in the bedroom?
Huh, maybe this is sexting after all. I grin as I settle back and get comfortable, then type a response.
Jonah: I am. Do you want to know what I’m wearing?
Lars: …I like where your mind is at, but can you just bring some toilet paper to the downstairs bathroom for me?
That message is followed by a poop emoji, and I sigh as I climb off the bed. Grabbing a roll of toilet paper from under the sink in our master bathroom, I take it downstairs, open the bathroom door, and toss it to him.
“And who says romance dies?” Lars calls to me as I shut the door on my way back out. Chuckling, I shake my head and beeline for the kitchen to write toilet paper down on our grocery list for the week.
When he emerges from the bathroom, I’m still laughing and shaking my head at him.
“I thought you were sexting me.”
Lars waggles his eyebrows, stepping close and wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his chin against my chest and looking up at me.
“Be careful what you wish for,” he warns. “I’m going to sext the shit out of you now. I would’ve already been doing it if I’d known you wanted it.”
“Yeah?” I ask hopefully. There’s something tantalizingly naughty about the idea of getting dirty messages or pictures from him throughout the day. “You don’t think we’ve been together too long for that kind of stuff?”
Lars scoffs, reaching around and grabbing my ass cheeks in both hands. “There’s no time limit on chemistry. People get lazy when they’ve been together a long time, but we don’t have to stop trying to excite each other.”
“Yeah?” I ask again, feeling nervous as the topic starts to dance close to the thing that’s been on my mind for weeks now. “So, you’d be interested in trying new things in bed?”
He quirks an eyebrow at me curiously. “As long as it’s not gross or weird, I’m up for anything. I thought you’d have known that by now.”
Weird. That’s exactly how he described the puppies at the parade. I force a laugh and step out of his grasp, turning to find some way to busy myself in the kitchen, not wanting him to look too long in my eyes. He’s always been able to read me, and right now he’d see all the fear and shame dancing in my expression, and I’m not sure I’d be able to keep lying to him if he pressed me.
“Jonah,” he says my name, which stops me in my tracks due to how rarely he uses my actual name to address me. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Hm?” I swallow the emotions down and turn to look at him, my face as blank as I can make it. “No, I just thought I’d get started on dinner. Unless you want to go out? We haven’t had a date night in ages, and neither of us work tomorrow.”
“Date night sounds great. Let’s get changed and we can go to that little Italian place you love. Then maybe we can go to a bar for a couple of drinks or something?”
The tightness in my chest eases, and I manage a genuine smile.
“Sounds great. I need a quick shower, then I’ll be ready to go.”
Lars
I follow Jonah to the bedroom and then watch him disappear into the master bath. I’m puzzled over his question in the kitchen…well, more so the whiplash inducing pullback immediately following the question.
Before I have time to give it much thought, he’s stepping out of the steamy bathroom, his hair and body dripping wet and utterly mouthwatering.
“Fuck date night if you’re going to be walking around the house all naked and wet.”
He grins, this one much more convincing than any from the kitchen.
“No way am I giving up the goods before you treat me to dinner. What kind of man do you take me for?” He feigns offense before turning toward the dresser to grab one of the folded towels from the top of it, wiggling his ass in my direction as he dries his hair.
“God, you’re such a tease,” I groan, my cock growing hard at the display. “You know, you haven’t let me top you in ages.”
He tsks and shoots me a look over his shoulder. “Let you? Baby, all you have to do it come and get it.”
I palm my erection through my pants, squeezing it and making another breathless sound in the back of my throat.
“You really need to stop teasing if you expect us to leave the house tonight.”
He laughs, and the warm sound fills my chest like a balloon, giving me hope that whatever it is that’s going on will pass in time and everything will be okay between us.
Once I manage to tear my gaze away from his naked body, I get changed into slightly nicer clothes and we head out.
After eating our weight in pasta, we decide to go around the corner from the restaurant to have a few drinks at a small gay bar we used to frequent when we were in our twenties.
“I feel ancient,” I whisper to Jonah as we scan the room for somewhere to sit after getting our drinks from the bar.
“We’re only thirty-five; we’re not that old.”
“Yeah, but most of the guys in here look like they probably needed fake IDs to get served.”
“Well, then scratch this bar off our list of pick up locations,” he concludes sarcastically, earning him a pinch to his ass that makes him yelp.
We finally spot a table in the corner, so we make our way through the small crowd to claim it before anyone else can. Unfortunately, someone else seems to have the same idea. A petite man sets his drink down and slides onto one of the high stools just before we reach it.
“Damn,” I mutter, and the man looks up at my muttered epitaph.
He looks as young as most of the other patrons of the bar, his features delicate and pretty. Beside me, Jonah seems to stiffen as the man’s eyes dart between the two of us for a few seconds before settling on Jonah.
“Hey, Jonah,” he says, a smile lighting his face.
I turn my head to see Jonah’s reaction. How does he know this adorable little pixie? Not likely from work, new nurses tend to call him Dr. Hill until he gets annoyed enough to tell them to knock it off.
Jonah’s face is pale, his eyes wide, and his lips parted in surprise. He darts his eyes between me and this man and the awkwardness of this situation settles over me. Why is this situation awkward?
Taking a step forward, I offer my hand to the man.
“Hi, I’m Lars, Jonah’s partner. And you are?” The man does the same eye darting thing and then lets his attention rest on Jonah for a few seconds as if he’s trying to read his mind and figure out what he’s supposed to say.
Irritation and maybe a hint of jealousy start to simmer in my chest.
“Adrian,” he finally offers his hand, but not a further explanation of how he knows Jonah. “Oh, there’s my friend I’ve been waiting for. Why don’t you guys take the table,” he offers before grabbing his drink and hurrying away.
Jonah shifts his weight uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the floor. My mind is running over the encounter, trying to come up with a rational explanation for what just happened, but I come up blank. There is one interpretation my imagination offers, but I refuse to entertain it.
“So, who was that?” I ask in a clipped tone as I climb onto the stool Adrian just vacated.
“Adrian,” Jonah answers, claiming a seat of his own.
I clench my teeth and try again. “How do you two know each other?”
Jonah shrugs. “We don’t really; we’ve just run into each other before.”
“Run into each other?” I repeat incredulously. “Where does a thirty-five-year-old doctor whose entire social life consists of Netflix and board game nights run into a twenty-year old kid and exchange names?” I know I sound like a jealous, irrational asshat, but I can’t seem to stop myself. “Or maybe it’s wherever you’ve been hiding out for hours after work every night for the past few weeks?”
He gasps, reeling back as if I’d slapped him. “You’re acting like a complete prick right now, Lars.”
“Fine, I’m a prick,” I mutter into my beer before taking a long swig.
He shakes his head at me and takes a drink of his own as an awkward silence lapses between us. So much for date night.
Jonah
As soon as Lars’ breathing evens out, and his body relaxes into the bed, I quietly push back my blankets and ease out of bed. Grabbing my laptop from on top of the dresser, I creep out of the bedroom, careful to shut the door as silently as possible on my way to the living room.
Sitting down on the couch, I grab the throw blanket hung over the back and wrap it around my shoulders. The blanket was my Christmas gift to Lars two years ago. He laughed and told me it was so dorky to have a blanket with a picture of us on it, but I didn’t miss the smile on the corner of his lips as he looked at it. I chose a photo from a vacation we took to Coney Island the previous summer, both of us holding up corn dogs, our arms around each other. Maybe it is a little dorky, but I know he likes it anyway.
My chest aches a little, and I cast a glance down the hall toward our bedroom. I can only imagine what Lars was thinking tonight when we ran into Adrian. I know I need to tell him what’s going on; I just need to find the courage. Part of me wishes he’d pushed for me to come clean when we ran into Adrian, made me tell him how I knew him.
I find myself clicking over to The (W)hole Truth again, losing I-don’t-know-how-long scrolling through articles without really reading them. When my eye catches on a tab that says, “Contact me/submit a question for Ask Art”, I click on it.
I click it and a window opens for me to send an email. Taking a deep breath, I start typing, letting out everything I’ve been feeling over the past few weeks like bleeding poison from my veins.
Dear Art,
I’m sure you get messages like this all the time, but I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore. I suppose I should start from the beginning… Three weeks ago, I saw puppy play for the first time, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. Wait, no, that’s not really the beginning… Ten years ago, my best friend who I’d been in love with my entire life told me he loved me too.
For ten years, I’ve been living in complete bliss with Lars, the man of my dreams. Don’t get me wrong, we have our fights and disagreements (mostly because I do irritating shit, and every once in a while, he reaches the end of his patience), but he is my other half in every way. I didn’t know I could love someone the way I love him.
Then, the puppy thing happened. It’s not so different from when I realized I was gay; there was a moment where everything sort of clicked into place, and my whole body was like “Yes, that’s what we’ve been trying to figure out all this time.” At first, I thought maybe I should just let it go because it’s not the kind of thing I can imagine my partner being into. But last week I went into a kink shop and ended up walking out with a puppy hood. I stashed it in our guest bedroom closet and haven’t even had the courage to take it out and try it on again, let alone show it to Lars. I don’t know what to do. How do I bring this up to him? And what if he isn’t into it? I feel like I don’t recognize myself anymore, and I don’t know where to turn. Please help.
Sincerely,
One Lost Puppy
P.S. Feel free to use this for Ask Art; I’m sure I’m not the only one with a problem like this.
I hit send before I can overthink it and feel a wave of relief once it’s done. I return to mindlessly browsing the internet for a while, waiting to feel tired. To my surprise, less than half an hour later, a reply email from Art pops up.
Dear Puppy,
Thanks for the permission to use your dilemma in my Ask Art segment, I think it will be relatable to a lot of people discovering new kinks, afraid to tell their partners. It’s more common than you think. My advice to you is: 1. Get the hood out and try it on! That part of the advice is for you. Finding a new kink is fun, so take a few minutes to enjoy it a little. The last thing you want to do is go to your man filled with shame and confess to this new kink like you’re confessing to murder. If you need a few more days to get EXCITED about this new kink, then take it. But then 2. TELL YOUR MAN. Personally, I have yet to meet a man I can stand to keep in my bed for more than a few nights, but if you’re as crazy about each other as you say, there’s no way he won’t support this. Hell, maybe he’s been trying to find a way to tell you he’s dying to see you as a puppy. You never know!
I hope this helps, and if you feel comfortable, feel free to send me a follow up to tell me how it went! And pics of you in the hood ;).
Good Luck, Pup!