Chapter 5 #2
The last thing I wanted to do was remember that night when I legit thought Cass’s cock was going to drop off.
Just the thought of his pained scream and desperate sob was enough to make me wince.
But it was the chocolate covering his dick that had hardened to a lumpy goo that wasn’t the best visual in the world.
There was no denying it looked like shit. So that, with the pain, not only in the moment with the heat but those sore, wince-inducing welts on his dick after…. Hell, there was a lot of trauma there to unpack.
And something he’d never shared with me before.
“All I could think about when I was so close to his ass was my cock covered in chocolate shit and being in agony. Who the fuck thinks that? It’s screwed up, right?”
The fuck was I supposed to say? The last thing I wanted was to say the wrong thing, but this conversation, what he shared, had thrown me for a loop.
Once he’d fully healed a few years back, we’d never discussed it again. Not once.
That clearly the event had such a lasting effect worried me, especially as he associated it with anal sex. If I dug deep, I supposed I could understand why he made the association. Anal sex could be messy, and accidents could happen.
And it was something I’d discovered in my fairly limited experience since being in college that any unpleasant messiness wasn’t talked about. It was one of those undiscussed rules that I assumed queer guys knew and followed.
You prepped. You cleansed. But literally, sometimes shit happened.
You’d quietly deal with any messiness and pretend everything was peachy.
Was it nice? Not exactly. But sex—good, amazing sex—was so worth it.
I grasped hold of my thoughts, settling on “It’s not fucked-up. Considering what happened to you, I get why you’d link the two.”
“Even though it’s irrational?”
His despondent tone made me so sad that I hauled him into another hug, then petted his hair.
“Trauma has its own set of rules,” I said gently, grateful for the psych class I’d studied last semester.
“That it’s made you wary of anything ass related isn’t so much of a surprise, especially when it’s to do with your dick.
Rational or not. Have you felt this way for a while? ”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s not like I have issues crapping or anything. I have no drama watching porn and seeing guys get off. Yesterday was just the first time I got close. I think my reaction took me by surprise so much, I panicked even harder. Talk about being fucking humiliated.”
“Hey, you’ve nothing to feel humiliated by or ashamed of. You couldn’t have known.” I cleared my throat, thinking about the guy he’d been with yesterday. “What did you say to the guy?”
“Apologized and said I was feeling unwell. Said I thought I had food poisoning.”
“That’ll be all the sketchy shrimp you ate, huh?”
When he chuckled, I dotted a kiss on his head, thoroughly pleased with myself.
His laughter died off, and he glanced up at me. “What if I can’t get up close and personal with a guy’s ass?” Wide-eyed horror filled his gaze. I would have laughed at this whole conversation if he wasn’t being absolutely genuine with his fear.
“How do you feel about a guy getting close to your ass?” I hated the heat touching my cheeks as I asked the question. Sure, we were close, but this level of detail was way out of the norm. But he needed this openness. Needed me to be frank.
“I’m not sure. Never considered bottoming, really.”
I quirked my eyebrow at him, calling bullshit. Surely every queer guy had thought about it at length. Whether they decided if it was for them or not meant they’d had to have put thought into it, right?
“Fine.” He rolled his eyes at me, some of his stress seeming to melt away.
“I’ve put plenty of thought into it. I’m not sure if I ever want to.
” It was Cass’s turn for his cheeks to flush.
“Maybe for the right guy I would. But after yesterday and the more I think about it, I think I’ll be so fucking terrified of my reaction, I’m not sure I could go through with it. ”
My heart ached at his truth while being so proud of him for sharing this with me.
“Maybe put yesterday behind you, and eventually you’ll just get there.
” My words felt lame and not at all helpful.
I tried again, thinking about some of the things I’d learned from one of my psych classes.
“You need to be able to talk out your worries with whoever you’re with.
” I winced, even though I was sure my advice was solid.
“Which I know isn’t exactly great for a one-night stand or a casual hookup. ”
Cass stared at me in silence, his expression letting me know he was thinking hard. “That makes sense.” When he nodded, I gave myself a metaphorical pat on the back. “So I need to trust the person.”
“Yeah. Enough that you can be honest with them about douching and your worries.”
Once again, he nodded. I grinned, on a roll with this advice-giving shit. Hell, maybe I should skip out on the police academy and be a sex therapist or something instead.
Humming in response, Cass pressed back against me, returning to his snuggle position. “Thanks, Dyl.”
With a happy exhale and a soft kiss to his head, I held him tighter. “Any time, Cass. You know that.”