“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!
Chapter 10
Lars
For the third time in as many weeks, I wake up to find Jonah’s side of the bed empty, and when I reach over to feel his spot, it’s cold. My stomach knots, and anxiety makes my pulse flutter.
In spite of all our flirting before leaving the house for date night last night, we came home and went right to sleep without either of us hinting at sex. In fact, it’s been ten days since the last time we’ve touched each other like that. That may not seem like a long time, especially having been together as long as we have, but it’s the longest we’ve ever gone. Something isn’t right, and I’m afraid my don’t push it policy is only making things worse.
Throwing the covers back, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and go in search of him. I’m not surprised to find him curled up on the couch with his laptop on the floor beside him. For a crazy moment, I consider grabbing the computer and pulling up his history to see what he’s been spending so much time doing on there lately. But the rational part of my brain knows that whatever he’s hiding, snooping won’t fix the issue.
I check the time and sigh. It’s only four in the morning, but I know I won’t be getting back to sleep at this point, so I might as well shower and start getting ready for work. I don’t dare go back to bed to dwell on whatever’s going on with Jonah.
I grab the blanket off the floor— I’m assuming it slipped off him at some point— and lay it over him.
“Thank you, Master,” he murmurs sleepily, and I feel my eyebrows draw together in confusion. Master? Some hell of a dream he must be having. I shake my head and pick up his computer and set it on the coffee table, so he won’t step on it when he wakes up. Then, I head for the bathroom to take a shower, hoping like hell I can somehow scrub clean enough to wash away whatever the fuck weirdness is going on.
At seven o’clock, Jonah bolts upright out of sleep with a panicked expression on his face.
“You fell asleep on the couch again,” I tell him evenly when his eyes land on me, sitting in the chair beside the couch, quietly reading an otitis case study on my tablet.
“Oh,” he blinks and rubs his hands over his face and through his unruly mass of red curls on top of his head. When he looks around again, he spots his laptop on the table, and his face pales. “Were you looking at my computer?”
“No,” I scowl, even more sure now there’s something he’s hiding. Neither of us have ever been the type to snoop or invade each other’s privacy, but at the same time, neither of us have ever acted like there was anything to hide. “I picked it up so you wouldn’t step on it.”
“Thank you,” he mutters. “I’m going to take a shower.”
For a second, I consider going after him, demanding to know what’s going on, but part of me is afraid to hear the answer.
I listen as the shower turns on, sitting frozen in my seat as I try to decide what to do and how to face whatever is going on with Jonah. Even
tually, the shower shuts off and, like a complete coward, I can’t bear to be still sitting here when he comes out. So I jot a quick I love you note, slip on my shoes, and hurry out the door for work.
It’s an hour before drop offs, an hour before I normally get in, and Seb’s car is the only one in the parking lot.
I trudge inside and find him scurrying around getting things ready for the day and directing two assistants as well. At least we won’t be understaffed today.
“Whoa, you look like shit,” he says as soon as he spots me hovering in the doorway.
“Aw, thanks,” I deadpan.
He cocks his head at me, seemingly realizing that there really is something going on with me before telling the assistants to keep working on getting set up and motioning me to follow him to my office.
“Spill it,” he says as soon as we’re alone.
“Spill what?”
“Whatever has you looking like a kicked puppy. Is trouble brewing with the perfect couple?” He says it sarcastically, like it’s the most ludicrous thing he can imagine, but my expression must give me away because his face instantly falls. “Oh shit, what happened?”
“That’s the thing, I have no idea,” I confess, dropping down onto my chair while Seb hops up to plop his butt on my desk. “For the past couple of weeks, he’s been distant. He’s getting out of bed at night and sleeping on the couch, spending a lot of time on his computer and getting cagey when I ask what he’s up to. This morning he nearly had a heart attack when he thought I looked at his computer while he was sleeping.”
Seb’s eyes bulge before he fixes his expression into something more neutral.
“Did you guys have a fight or something?”
“No, nothing. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well, do you think…” He bites his lip and shakes his head. “No, you know what, I’m sure this is one of those things that happens when you’ve been together a long time. Growing pains or whatever.”
“Seb,” I look up at him pleadingly. “Last night, we went out, and there was this guy. His name was Adrian. He’s this beautiful twenty-year-old twink with high cheekbones and pretty lips…You don’t think he could be seeing someone else, do you?” I can’t believe I’m even thinking such a thing, but it makes sense, too much sense.
“Oh, Doc.” He reaches out and puts his hand on my shoulder. “If it was anyone but Jonah, I would think that. But that man loves you like crazy.”
“I’ve always thought so too, but maybe I’ve taken him for granted or something?”
“Maybe you should talk to him. We don’t have any appointments after three today; I can tell the receptionist to block it off after that so you can take off early. Go home, cook a nice dinner for your man, and get to the bottom of whatever’s going on. Maybe you two just need to fuck it out or something.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Just when I think you’re saying something smart.”
“Fucking it out is smart,” he argues.
“Thanks, Seb, this helped. I’ll do that, and we’ll get to the bottom of whatever’s going on.”
He hops off my desk and saunters toward the office door, stopping and tossing me one last quick look over his shoulder.
“He’s not cheating on you, Doc.”
“Thanks.”
Jonah
I hover outside the guest bedroom, peeking my head inside like a little kid expecting to be caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar.
Today, when Lars gets home from work, I’m going to tell him about the puppy stuff. I’m nowhere near ready, and I’m completely terrified, but I can’t stand lying to him a second longer. The hurt in his eyes this morning when I freaked out about the laptop almost made me tell him right then and there, but blurting it out before he left for work didn’t seem like the best way to go.
And Art was right; I don’t want to go to him and act like this is something shameful. It’s a kink, no big deal. I doubt Lars is dying to see me as a puppy as Art suggested, but I have to tell him.
With shaking hands, I reach up into the closet and my fingers brush the plastic of the bag. Tugging it forward, I pull it down and hold the package in my hands, my heart fluttering with a mixture of fear and excitement.
I had the hood on for such a short time last week at the shop, I can hardly remember what it felt like. Pulling the box out of the bag, I toss the plastic aside, and my fingers fumble with the edge of the box as I work to open it. As soon as it’s open, my breath catches at the sight of the hood. It’s even prettier than I remembered.
A thrill goes through me as I reach in and let my fingers ghost along the cool leather-like material. My cock shifts against my thigh as it fills, and I take a second to imagine kneeling at Lars’ feet as he puts the hood on me. I can practically feel his hands petting my bare chest and back, the weight of a collar as he fastens it around my neck.
“Oh,” I groan, taking my hand off the hood to palm my rapidly growing erection.
Not wanting to wait another second to get the hood on, I force myself to ignore my aching arousal and pull the hood out of the box, tossing the box aside like the bag. Then, I slip the hood on and secure it into place.
Another jolt of excitement goes through me, my entire body feeling like a livewire. Turning around to face the large mirror in the corner of the room, I tilt my head, looking at myself and feeling a flutter in the pit of my stomach. I let out a little bark and instantly feel silly…but also maybe a little playful? My emotions are swirling through me so quickly it’s difficult to analyze them. But the one thing I’m sure of is this feels…right.
I turn around so my ass is pointed at the mirror, and look over my shoulder at my reflection, wondering what a tail would look like. What kind of tail would I want? There weren’t many options at the shop, but I think I’d like something furrier than what I saw there. I wonder if they make those? Almost like a cute little fox tail, but maybe…black to match my hood?
I wiggle a little, feeling excited at the idea, imagining myself in nothing but a jockstrap, my puppy hood, and a fluffy black tail. My cock hardens at the image in my mind. But the elated feelings only last for a few seconds before I can hear Lars’ voice in my mind again.
It’s kinda weird, right?
How can this feel so right and so good when it’s not something Lars will want to share with me? Since birth we’ve been two peas in a pod, always on the same page, and heading in the same direction. I love him more than anything, so how can I possibly tell him about this?
The door to the bedroom swings open, and I yelp in surprise, whipping my head around to look at the door before I realize I’m still wearing the puppy hood.
Lars stands in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.
I pull the hood off and hold it behind my back. I’m not sure why I’m trying to hide it, unless he went spontaneously blind for a good sixty seconds, he already saw me wearing it.
“You’re home early,” I manage lamely, unable to meet his eyes, my stomach tying itself in knots as I wait for him to laugh at me or tell me I’m a freak.
“It was a slow day, so I was able to get away right after the last appointment.”
“I can explain.”
He walks around me, and I hold still, resisting the urge to fidget or try to hide the hood again. I can feel it jostle in my grip as he touches it, taking it in and likely judging it. Bile rises in my throat, and my muscles twitch with the effort of staying still.
“Is this what you’ve been so secretive about lately? The time you’ve spent out of the house and the nights you were quiet and wouldn’t say why, they all have to do with this?”
“Yes,” I admit in a whisper. “I’m sorry, Lars. I can explain.”
“Thank Christ,” he says, letting out a relieved laugh. “I was sure you were cheating on me.”
“What?” I snap, the nerves suddenly gone, replaced by white hot anger. “You thought I was fucking around on you?” I whip around, crossing my arms with the hood still
clutched in my hand.
Lars shrugs, looking a little sheepish. “What was I supposed to think? You wouldn’t say what was wrong, you didn’t want to fool around, you were sneaking out of bed in the morning, and coming home even later than usual. What would you have thought if the situations were reversed?”
“I wouldn’t have thought you were fucking someone else,” I grumble, even though his reasoning makes sense; it just hurts to hear.
Lars steps closer, putting his hands on my hips and looking up at me.
“I’m sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion. Why don’t I get in the shower, then I’ll make dinner, and then you can tell me about this,” he suggests, running a finger along the muzzle of the hood with a curious look in his eyes.
I lick my dry lips and give a tight nod.
I’m not sure what to do with the hood as he walks away. Should I hide it again, or just set it on top of the dresser? After a few minutes of internal debate, I settle for putting the hood back where it was since there’s still a huge chance he’s going to tell me how weird he thinks it is. Then, I go out into the living room to gather my thoughts and wait.
Lars
I’m so relieved I feel giddy as I hurry through my shower. I don’t know anything about the hood thing Jonah had—I’m almost positive it’s called puppy play?—but whatever it’s about, it’s better than what I was imagining. I’ll figure out what Jonah’s into; I’ll learn whatever I have to if it makes him happy.
I rinse the suds off my body and shut the water off. I can hear the television playing from the living room as I towel off, and I smile as relief floods me again. He’s not seeing someone else. He’s not unhappy with me. We can figure out the rest, together.
Once I’m dry, I put on comfortable clothes and go to the kitchen. I look at what we have in the refrigerator and freezer and ultimately decide to order a pizza.
“Why didn't you tell me?” I ask as I step into the living room.
Jonah looks over at me, switching the television off and turning sideways on the couch so we can look at each other.
Stay (Working Out The Kinks Book 1) Page 6