Chapter 9 - Dominic
–––––
Dominic
Thursday was still my therapy day. Where the session used to take place before my theater engagement in the late afternoon, I was now sitting in Dr. Bachmann’s office at nine in the morning. My gaze kept drifting to the clock above the door. Today was a day I’d rather be anywhere but here.
I have no idea how Bachmann did it, but he always managed to get me to talk about whatever was on my mind. I fiddled with my thumb and shifted in my chair, but the time didn’t pass any faster.
“We kissed,” I muttered softly, as if I were confessing to a murder.
“And how was it?” he asked, clearly interested.
“Uh, good … I think.”
“Did you follow my advice and focus on how it felt?”
“It felt good,” I said cautiously, as if I didn’t trust my own words. “Warm. Kind of exciting. I felt desire, and … I felt like a liar.”
“Why’s that?”
“I broke my resolution.”
Bachmann smiled. “Don’t be too hard on yourself.
There’s something positive in that. I’d actually look at it this way: the fact that you let it go as far as it did shows that you’ve managed to relieve some of the pressure you’ve been carrying with your strategy.
Or maybe it had something to do with the man.
Perhaps you feel a sense of security around him. ”
“I’d call it stress. The fact that it was him who made me do this, I still can’t believe it.”
“Why not?”
“He makes me feel something strange. A kind of lust. God! This can’t be possible!”
Dr. Bachmann crossed one leg over the other and sat up straight. “Erectile dysfunction doesn’t mean you can’t feel desire. Physically, you can still have an orgasm.”
“But it goes against my resolution.”
“If I remember correctly,” he said, flipping through his notes, “you said you wanted to consciously refrain from sex for three months. So it’s fine for you to feel desire. In my opinion, that’s actually a good approach. If you feel safe, you can start experimenting. You won’t lose anything.”
“Except maybe my pride and dignity.”
Bachmann laughed, but I stayed serious.
“What’s your definition of sex?” he asked.
“I told my roommate not to tell me any spicy details about his new lover—and now we’re talking about whether the dishwasher has been emptied.”
“You said the kiss was good.”
“That’s why I’m so confused! I don’t know what’s going on with me! The boundaries are blurring more and more.”
“Could it be that you like this man?”
“So what if I do? There’s something off about him. I saw it in his eyes. He …” I peered up at the ceiling and shook my head. “There’s something dark in him, something uncontrollable. He’s probably just trouble, and I’ve had enough of that these last few months.”
“From what you told me about last Friday, he seems like a nice young man.”
I glanced at Bachmann, feeling a surge of anger that surprised me. “Whose side are you on?”
Bachmann laughed again, then glanced at the clock. “I would have liked to talk to you longer, but it looks like we’ll have to continue our conversation next week.”
I stayed seated and watched him set his notepad aside as he got up from his chair.
“What?” I asked. “No advice like usual?”
“We’re sticking with the same one as last week. I want you to feel.”
“How’s that going to work without sex?”
“Well, my friend, that’s what we’re figuring out.”
I felt discouraged when I stepped out onto the street and buttoned my jacket—at least as far as Kilian was concerned. There was one thing I hadn’t told Dr. Bachmann. I liked having Kilian by my side.
When the lights changed during rehearsal or when I secretly watched him check the spotlights in the galleries, a slight tingling would erupt in my chest. Every time I saw him, I thought back to last Friday’s kiss and felt strangely aroused.
But at the same time, it felt like someone was hitting me in the head with a baseball bat.
The kiss had been so erotic, and I could have kissed him in that alley for hours. Especially after he assured me he didn’t want to take me home right away. That took the pressure off, and I wanted more from him.
But when I felt his half-erect penis against my body, a dizziness hit me, spinning me around as if I’d been swept into a raging current. His hardness fueled my desire, but at the same time triggered all the negative emotions I’d been trying to process these past few months.
Yes, I could feel desire, but my cock stayed limp. Dead. Shame didn’t even come close to describing how I felt in that moment. And yet, I was so captivated by Kilian that I didn’t run away and let him escort me home.
Since then, he hadn’t made advances, even though I could see it in his dark gaze. I was sure that in his mind, he was tearing my clothes off.
When we talked, it was mostly about something related to the play.
Nothing personal. Kilian kept things to himself, for which I was grateful, because even the stage manager Sebastian—who, I’d noticed, was close friends with Kilian—seemed completely unaware when he invited Vanja, Eliah, and me to his wedding party.
Today, we were rehearsing a scene from Act V. It was a dialogue between Hamlet and Horatio. Theo, the director, wasn’t exaggerating when he promised us a completely new Hamlet.
“Kil?” Theo said into the walkie-talkie. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah, let’s go. Act V, Scene 1.”
Every time I heard Kilian’s voice through the radio, I looked up at the control room. Although I could only see a small part of his silhouette, just knowing he was up there did something to me.
I quickly focused on my role, took my position, and waited. The lights dimmed, then the spotlights flared up on stage, illuminating the fabric and wood panels that made up the set Sebastian and his team created.
Eliah and I ran through the scene, page by page. Scene by scene. Although I knew my lines, I was glad I still had the script in hand at that point. Eliah did the same.
Theo interrupted us repeatedly, suggesting ideas to try out. Sometimes he radioed to Kilian in the control room or spoke with the set designers.
I used these moments to mentally prepare for the one scene that gave me butterflies in my stomach: the moment when Hamlet and Horatio kissed.
Yes, Theo was serious about his reinterpretation.
So, what do I feel?, I remembered Dr. Bachmann’s words. Just feel.
Eliah and I had discussed how we wanted to approach the kiss. Theo had shared his ideas too, and we were ready.
When the moment came, I tried to focus on the kiss, on Eliah’s soft lips that barely touched mine—gentle like a breeze yet hot like the sun.
Eliah had a habit of constantly biting his lower lip. Was that why his lips felt so warm? Or was it because, as he’d told me, he’d never kissed a man before and was nervous?
“Imagine I’m a woman,” I’d told him.
I could feel his breath hitching against my lips. He was tense, barely able to move.
“Okay,” Theo called out from the fifth row. “Eliah, relax a bit. Horatio feels something for Hamlet, so it’s okay for you to tense your body, but this is definitely too much. Dominic, turn a bit more. Eliah is covering you.”
We nodded and switched positions, then we repeated the scene. Again. And again. Even by the fifth time, I still felt nothing but Eliah’s warm lips and his mint-scented breath.
Somehow, I was disappointed because I secretly hoped it would affect my body in some way.
After all, when Kilian had kissed me last Friday, I had reacted.
Every time my lips met Eliah’s, I was reminded of the time I met with Clarissa after my withdrawal, trying to determine whether I could still get turned on.
She had thrown me out after I accidentally revealed that I had used her as a guinea pig—which was completely understandable.
But how could it be that I felt nothing now, especially when I had experienced real desire just last Friday?
“Let’s call it a day,” Theo declared. The stage lights went out as the house lights gradually brightened around us.
Kilian, I thought, gritting my teeth. What did you do to me?
I felt empty as I walked with Eliah to the dressing room to grab my things.
No matter how hard I tried to focus on viewing this as just part of the job and fulfilling Dr. Bachmann’s assignment, I felt nothing.
Instead, the emptiness inside me grew with every kiss, and the sense of being a complete failure gnawed at me like a pack of rats.
“Do you want to grab a drink?” Eliah asked as we headed toward the exit.
Before I could respond, I felt a hand on my upper arm.
“Sorry, Horatio, but Hamlet’s coming with me.”
Kilian grabbed me and dragged me up the stairs to the upper floor. His fingers dug into my flesh as if I were a hardened criminal and he was an angry cop.
“What’s this about?” I shouted, struggling in vain to break free from his grip.
“What’s this about?” he asked, shoving me into the control room and closing the door behind him. “You tell me!”
I didn’t know what he meant, but I was too busy trying to make sense of what was happening. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness, as the house lights had now gone out, leaving only a laptop, two mixing boards, and a small blue lamp illuminating the cramped space.
So this is where he works.
“I don’t know what you mean.” My eyes landed on some notes next to a headset, a walkie-talkie, and his open bag. “I was just about to go get a drink with Eliah.”
In an instant, he seized my arm again, spinning me around and shoving me backward until I collided into the table. I stared into his fiery eyes, which glared at me like a rabid animal, and my pulse skyrocketed.
“After you’ve been kissing all afternoon?” he growled, just inches from my face.
I swallowed.
Why does his anger turn me on?
There’s definitely something wrong with me.
“Are you jealous?”
He narrowed his dark eyes and tilted his head slightly to the side. “It drives me crazy when I see you kissing someone else.”