Title: Lights Out

Pairing: Val/Jon

Implements used: hand

Warnings: none

I was lying on the couch, holding my still throbbing hand against my chest, and trying to decide if I should call Val or not. If Val was actually at work, I probably wouldn’t have hesitated, but Val wasn’t even in town. He had gone up to his parents house to help them sort through their attic and do some other work. Val had the day off, because it was Good Friday, so he left early this morning and decided to stay overnight, because the work was going to be a two day job, and the drive was around 90 minutes, sometimes more in rush hour traffic. I didn’t go because I had to work, although right now I was wishing I had taken the weekend off and gone with him.

I kept debating in my head the pros and cons of calling Val and asking him to come home. On the one hand, my head was still humming and my stomach still felt slightly nauseous. My finger was still throbbing, and every time I started to get up, I would get that light headed feeling again. Being at home alone, and feeling like this probably wasn’t a good idea-all points in favor of calling Val.

On the other hand, the cut was pretty minor and didn’t appear to need stitches, but it was kind of deep. The bleeding had stopped long before I left the shop. In the past, when I had passed out like this, I usually felt better within a few hours. So if I called Val, and asked him to make the two hour drive home, it was more than likely that I would be feeling perfectly fine by the time he got home, which would make me feel like a wimp, and leave his parents with half the work done. These were all good reasons to not call Val. But I didn’t want to be alone, and to be honest I wanted Val too.

I had all but decided to call Val, when I noticed Barney, who was sitting on the floor by the couch perk his ears up and look towards the door. About the time he got to his feet to run to the door, I heard a light knock. I wasn’t much up for company or playing host to whoever was knocking on the door, so I was going to do the ‘pretend like I’m not home’ routine. That idea didn’t last long, when I recognized Matt’s voice calling from the other side of the door.

“Jon! Hey Jon are you home? I saw your car outside and thought I would stop by.” I glanced over at the door and noticed the deadbolt wasn’t locked, which was something Val would have had a strong opinion on, but I had no intention of telling him about it.

“Come in, the door’s unlocked” I yelled towards the door so Matt could let himself in because I had no desire to get off the couch.

The door opened with a quick swing-and Matt came bounding in with a bright smile on his face. Matt and I had been best friends since grade school, and we had moved to the Richmond area together after we finished high school.

“Hey Jon, what’s up, you look kind of pale?” He asked, as he plopped down on the chair across from the couch. Barney followed him into the living room, and put his head on Matt’s knee, looking for some attention.

“It’s a long story. The short version is I hurt myself at work” I said waiving my bandaged finger in the air so he could see the injury. I admit it was one of those stories you would rather not share with anyone else, but best friends are persistent and they aren’t easily put off.

“Well I am always up for a long story-so tell me, what gives?”

I rolled my eyes at him knowing that I probably wasn’t going to get out of telling this story. “Okay, but you have to promise not to laugh.” He held his hands up with his fingers crossed and waved them back and forth.

“Well, I was doing a cut for one of my regular customers, nothing all that fancy, just a basic cut. And Suz and I were talking-okay having a friendly argument about American Idol, and I got slightly distracted while trying to make a point. And, well . . . I somehow I managed to snip my finger with my sheers. It hurt like Hell. I started bleeding, and my head got that tell-tale hum that was basically a giant neon sign telling me ‘YOU ARE ABOUT TO PASS OUT,’ so I put my scissors on my work tray, and laid down in the floor. The next thing I knew I was opening my eyes surrounded by Suz, Michelle, Stevie, and Cora all looking down at me. There were probably others, but they didn’t fit in my immediate line of sight, and I really didn’t want to know just how big my audience was. Oh, and of course, the customer who had a ring side seat for the event.”

I saw Matt’s eyes light up with surprise “Damn, Jon, you mean you still get sick at the sight of blood and pass out? I thought people outgrew that shit.”

“Well I haven’t done it in a long time, but yeah, apparently I still pass out. And I am guessing since I am at the ripe old age of 24 that you don’t outgrow that shit.” I answered, slightly exasperated, and definitely embarrassed.

Like I said, Matt and I had been best friends since grade school, so he had seen me pass out over all sorts of things, and in all sorts of places, and of course being the good friend that he is, never let me hear the end of it. I absolutely hated the fact that the slightest injury, and the sight of blood would make me pass out. It just didn’t feel very manly, but as much as I have tried, once that hum starts up in my head, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it other than get in the floor and hope for the best.

“So, then what happened?” Matt prompted as he scratched Barney under the chin.

“Not much really, I scared the crap out of Suz. She volunteered to finish my customer, who quickly agreed to let her finish-not like the woman wanted to go home with half a haircut. It was pretty obvious to her that I wasn’t going to be finishing it. At first, I just wanted to go to the backroom and lay down on the couch for a while, but Suz insisted I go home. And you know Suz, she doesn’t take no for an answer. So, before I knew it, Michelle had driven me home in my car, and then she went back to work in a cab.” I rubbed my good hand over my face, looked over at Matt and finished.

“I feel like shit, and I am so embarrassed that I was dumb enough to cut my finger and pass out right in the middle of the shop. Guess that’s one more event I can add to my ‘Jon’s most embarrassing moments’ list.” And that list was getting to fucking long as far as I was concerned.

“Where’s Val, is he at work still? I am surprised you didn’t get him to come pick you up from work, and save Michelle the trip?” He asked.

“Val is helping his mom and dad sort through a bunch of crap in their attic and some other stuff at their house. He isn’t going to be home until tomorrow night” I answered.

“Oh, I didn’t realize Val was gone.” He said then his eyes brightened and he continued. “I mostly came by to see if you would go to church with me tonight. It’s the Good Friday service and I wanted to go tonight . . . but I didn’t want to go alone. Looks like you’re free if Val is gone, so no excuses you should go with me.”

“Matt I really don’t think I am up to going to church, shoot I don’t even go when I feel good, why would I go tonight?” I asked.

“Because you don’t want me to go by myself. And besides, all you have to do is sit there and listen, no big deal.” Matt continued trying to convince me to go. Matt knew from long years of practice that I was a pretty easy mark, and could eventually be talked into anything. I have another list tucked around somewhere the “All the times Jon has gotten in trouble list” and if you look close at it, Matt’s name is involved with about 75% of the items on that list. He knows how to work me, and I still don’t know how to say “no” to him.

So before I knew it, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Matt’s car, heading out for the night and we decided to grab something to eat before going on to the church. Matt said it was his treat, and he was craving Chinese, so we went to the small, but excellent, Chinese buffet in town. I am not really sure why I agreed to come. The whole time I kept thinking that I probably should have called Val, and that I really should have just stayed at home. My stomach still wasn’t settled, and while the throbbing in my finger had lessened, I still didn’t feel all that well. I mostly picked at my food while Matt more than ate enough for the two of us.

“You know I really don’t get how I let you talk me into this,” I said for probably the millionth time that evening, as we got in the car and headed to St. John’s Episcopal Church.

“Because you love me and because you are my very best friend since we were in Mrs. Martin’s third grade class together, and you didn’t want me to be lonely” Matt said with a twinkle in his eye as he shifted the gears.

I looked over at him and muttered “Yeah, but something tells me I am going to regret this.” I sometimes really wish I would listen to that voice in my head that tells me to say “no” a little more often; it probably would’ve saved me a lot of trouble over the years.

Since it was Good Friday, the parking lot was pretty full when we pulled in and parked. We went into the church and quietly slipped into a pew somewhere in the middle of the sanctuary. I didn’t really go to church much, and had never been to an Episcopal church, so I wasn’t real sure what to expect. I looked at the rack on the back of the pew in front of me and noticed several books. I reached over to pick up the prayer book from the rack and started thumbing through it.

I quietly closed the book and replaced it, then leaned over and whispered to Matt “So how long do these services last?”

He turned his head slightly and gave me a 'be quiet' look, but then must have realized I wasn’t giving in so he whispered “Not too long. I don’t think it should be much more than an hour.”

I nodded and thought about saying something else, but I noticed the ministers were entering the sanctuary, so I just sat quietly and waited with everyone else in the church as they entered and took their places to begin the service.

About an hour later Matt and I were leaving the sanctuary, and I admit I still felt like shit. Not only was my head pounding, but my stomach was turning flips. “Matt you lied to me” I said as we walked down the stairs into the parking lot.

“What do you mean I lied to you? I didn’t lie to you” he said with a look of surprise.

“Yes you did! When you were trying to talk me into coming to church, you told me I would just have to sit down and listen. I think we were doing the equivalent of calisthenics in there-stand up, kneel down, sit down, kneel down, stand up-there was no ‘just sitting’ anywhere in that service.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t think about that, I guess I am just used to it.” He said, with a shrug.

I didn’t say anything more because as we were about to get into the car, a pretty strong wave of nausea hit me again, and I knew at that moment I was going to throw up.

I hate throwing up, but knew there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it. So I just sort of ran as quickly as possible to the bushes along the edge of the parking lot, leaned over and started to retch. I can now say for certain Chinese food does not taste good coming up the other way.

After pretty much emptying everything possible from my stomach and then some, I slowly started to get up off my knees, when I realized my hand felt wet. At first, I thought I may have puked on my hand while I was emptying my stomach contents, but when I looked down at it, I realized my finger was bleeding again. I guess the cut probably opened while I was tossing my cookies, and that thought was pretty much all it took. My head started to hum, my body got all tingly, and I could feel things going black around my peripheral vision. I knew I was going to pass out again so I put my hands behind my head, and lay down just before the blackness closed in completely.

I opened my eyes sometime later, and noticed a whole bunch of people I didn’t know standing around me. Matt was right beside me with a very panicked look on his face; his mouth was open, as if he wanted to say something, but the words weren’t coming.

“Are you okay? Do we need to call an ambulance?” I heard a man standing over me ask, as he knelt down beside me. My ears were humming and the voices sounded loud, but also far away, and I was somewhat disoriented.

I had to think about his question a few seconds, then shook my head and quietly answered “No, just give me a few minutes and I’ll be okay.” At that moment, he noticed my still bleeding finger, and gently squeezed it. I assumed to stop the bleeding.

Then I heard Matt say “Jon, you sure you don’t want them to call an ambulance? What made you pass out again? You scared the shit out of me.” Only Matt would start using swears seconds after leaving church, but in this case nobody seemed to mind. I guess they thought he was a bit justified considering the scare I had given him.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

At that point I realized I wanted him to do the one thing I meant to do earlier, but didn’t, I wanted him to call Val.

“Matt just call Val for me please, if you grab my cell phone off my belt, his number is stored in it” I requested, as I closed my eyes hoping the irritating hum in my head would just go away, along with the headache and the nausea. I felt Matt pull my phone off the belt clip, heard him flip open the phone, and a few moments later he was talking to Val.

“Hey, Val, this is Matt, and well, something has happened. Jon hurt himself at work today . . .No he didn’t go to the doctor . . .he said it wasn’t that bad . . .No we went to church . . . yes church. I wanted some company and he came with me. . . . Well he cut his finger, and it didn’t look bad this afternoon . . . I never saw it . . . but now it’s bleeding again, and he just puked everywhere, and then he passed out. . . Sure, let me see if he wants to. Hey Jon, you feel like talking to Val? He wants to talk to you.”

I nodded my head, and sat up a little to take the phone. “Hi Val, it’s me” I said with a weak voice. I was now feeling well enough to be embarrassed by what happened, and I was trying like mad to not look at the finger again, which thankfully had stopped bleeding..

“Jon, are you okay? Why didn’t you go to the doctor?”

“Because it didn’t look like a bad cut at the time. I still don’t really think it is a bad cut; it’s mostly just my reaction that’s the problem. I passed out at work, and Suz wanted me to go home. I just didn’t think I needed the doctor for it.”

“Why didn’t you call me, when you got home?”

“Well I thought about it, but I didn’t want to make you come home, if you didn’t have to, and I was trying to figure things out and well . . . then Matt came by, and asked me to go to church with him, and I kept thinking I would feel better soon, but I just kept feeling like crap.” I felt like I was babbling and I wasn’t even sure if I was making sense at that point.

“Jon listen, I am going to grab my stuff, and come home tonight. I just need to let mom and dad know what’s going on. I want you to go to the ER and have them look at your finger, just to make sure it doesn’t need stitching or anything. Let me talk to Matt a minute.”

I held the phone out towards Matt “here he wants to talk to you.”

“Hi Val . . . Yeah, I can take him . . . Okay, I won’t let him talk me out of it. . . . Probably Community General. . . . Okay, I will call you if they finish with him before you get there. . . . Okay, bye” he said then abruptly snapped the phone closed.

“Okay Jon, Val wants you to go to the ER. He also says you aren’t allowed to talk me out of it. He said he would be leaving his parents house as soon as possible, and would meet us at the hospital; unless by some miracle they see you quickly and finish up before he arrives, then he will just come straight to your house.”

“Do you feel like getting up? You can lie down in the back seat, if you think you would feel better.” He asked kneeling beside me.

“I think I can get up, and I don’t need to lay down in the back, but if the front seat reclines, it might help to let it back,” I told him, as I slowly moved into a sitting position. I sat there waiting for my head to clear while he got in the car, and fixed the seat for me. Then he and another man walked me to the car and helped me get into the seat. I lay back, and closed my eyes as Matt drove to the hospital.

Several hours later Val and I left the hospital together. I had a newly bandaged finger with two stitches in the cut and a stack of papers telling me to wait at least two days before returning to work along with other wound care instructions, and in about two weeks we would probably get a horrific bill from the emergency room for their service.

The doctor said the cut probably wouldn’t have needed the stitches had it not been so close to the knuckle. He put the stitches in because he wanted to make sure it stayed closed. Thankfully I didn’t pass out again, and Val arrived before they called me back to see the doctor. He held my good hand while they poked, prodded and cleaned the cut. He kept my attention on him the whole time, trying to distract me from what the doctors were doing. He told me funny stories and made me laugh, and did what he could to keep me relaxed. It didn’t work perfectly, but it worked well enough to keep my attention off what was happening so I didn’t faint again. He seemed to know what I needed to keep my mind off everything the doctor was doing and the events of the day. I was so glad he was there.

Val didn’t say much on the ride home, I don’t think either of us much wanted to talk. The events of the day seemed to hover over us and neither one of us was ready to broach the subject of what had happened, so we both rode home and turned our own thoughts around in our heads. When we got to the house, he walked me inside, guided me to our bedroom at the back of the house, and quietly helped me get undressed and under the covers. He was gentle and efficient, but he still wasn’t really saying much of anything to me.

“I am going to run downstairs and get some medicine for you. The doctor suggested motrin for any pain. Do you think you can eat something right now?” He asked, with a look of concern on his face. I just shook my head in the negative, the thought of any kind of food made my stomach churn. “Okay, I will get some Tylenol instead-you should be able to take that on an empty stomach.” He quickly stood up, walked towards the bedroom door and down the hall. I could hear him rummaging around in the kitchen and few minutes later walking back down the hall towards our room. He entered the room with a small glass of water and some pills clutched in his palm.

“Here take these” he said handing me the pills as he sat down on the edge of the bed. I grabbed them from his hand and popped them into my mouth, then he handed me the water, and I swallowed the pills along with a mouthful of water and handed the almost empty glass back to him. After taking the glass he leaned over and put it on the bedside table, and reached out to brush my hair away from my eyes. He looked at my face a moment then leaned in and gently kissed me on the lips and pulled away. He didn’t really say anything at first, but I could tell he was thinking, and I was feeling guilty for not calling him.

“I am glad you are okay . . .” he started to say.

“Are you mad at me?” I interrupted him. “For not calling you?” I said with my voice almost a whisper.

“No, not really mad, but I am disappointed and think things weren’t handled well today. I don’t like being left out of the loop.” he answered. He closed his eyes a minute, and brushed his hand through his dark hair, something he often did, when he was thinking. Then he opened his eyes and looked into mine, and I was tempted to look away-knowing that my actions had hurt him more than anything else.

“Look, you don’t feel well, and I am exhausted, and I really don’t think either of us is ready to deal with what happened today right now. So let’s just go on to bed and we will talk about what happened tomorrow.”

I had a pretty good idea I wasn’t going to like the tenor the discussion was going to take, but I also didn’t like the way what had happened was hanging between us.

Val quickly got undressed, shut off the light, and slid into the bed beside me. He leaned in close and quietly whispered “I love you” into my ear as he pulled me close against him, spooning my body into his. His arms around me were comforting, and reassured me. I knew that even though I was in trouble, things were going to be okay. I fell asleep more quickly than I expected. The events of the day had taken a huge toll both physically and emotionally.

I woke up extra early the next morning, which was unusual for me, but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep. My heart was heavy with guilt over what had happened and I would be lying if I didn’t admit to being apprehensive about the coming discussion with Val. I knew I had hurt Val, but I hadn’t intended to and I wasn’t even sure how I managed to muck the whole thing up.

I quietly slid out of bed, trying not to disturb Val, who was sprawled across the bed on his stomach and gently snoring, something he only did when he was extremely tired. I pulled on a pair of sleep pants, slipped downstairs, and started to make some fresh coffee. While waiting for the coffee to finish brewing, I picked up the phone, and called Suz to let her know I wasn’t going to be at work that day because of the stitches and the need to keep them dry. I asked her to see if she could get Michelle to rebook my scheduled appointments for another day or with another stylist. I hung up the phone, and started to make my breakfast.

Val must have smelled the coffee or something, because not too long after I sat down at the table with my cup and a couple of pieces of buttered toast, he showed up in the kitchen, walked over to me, gave me a quick good morning kiss and started making his own coffee. I could tell he had pretty much come straight from bed, because his dark hair was a bit mussed, and he was wearing his glasses.

“You’re up early, did you sleep okay? How is your finger? Does it hurt?” He asked as he made a bowl of cereal.

“I slept fine, and the finger mostly just aches a little bit, nothing like yesterday. And before you ask, I called Suz to let her know I wasn’t going to be working today” I answered as he sat down to eat his own breakfast at our small but functional kitchen table.

Neither one of us said much during breakfast and what we did talk about wasn’t all that significant. I was more than willing to avoid the topic of yesterday’s events until he brought it up, a part of me wanted to put it off for months, while the other part just wanted to get it over with. I figured Val wasn’t likely to forget, and would get around to it in his own time, but I found myself shaking my leg up and down and fidgeting with a sort of nervous energy waiting for the hammer to fall. After we both finished our breakfast and cleaned up the dishes, he suggested we go to the office to have our discussion.

Our office was in reality the third bedroom of our modest home. It wasn’t overly large, but the office mostly served as a quiet place for Val to grade tests and papers or any other work he brings home. But on some occasions it also served another purpose; it was the place where any required discipline in our relationship was dispensed. As for furnishings, the office didn’t contain anything all that fancy either. There was an old but sturdy wooden desk by the window, a small leather couch on the opposite wall, and tucked out of the way along another wall, a wooden straight back chair, that most people wouldn’t notice if in the room, but my eyes couldn’t help but stray to, when we entered.

Val briskly walked over to the love seat, sat down on one side, and patted the other seat with his hand, indicating he wanted me to sit down beside him. I moved a lot more slowly, and with a lot less confidence, not quite like a death row prisoner walking to his execution, but pretty close. I sat down on the couch, perching uneasily on the edge of the seat, and looked towards Val waiting for him to open the discussion.

“Do you want to tell me why you didn’t call me yesterday after you cut your finger?” He asked me calmly and revealing little emotion.

I thought carefully about my answer, and realized any excuse I offered was going to fall way short of his standard. So the best answer I could think of just sort of came rushing out all at once like a waterfall in hopes that maybe something would be deemed acceptable.

“Well, I thought about calling you, I really did, but I didn’t want to call and make you drive two hours for nothing, if I felt fine by the time you got here, and then you wouldn’t have been put out and your parents would have been put out and . . . and I was going to call you, but then Matt came by and well I just sort of forgot to call you, I don’t know, I guess I just wasn’t thinking.”

I wasn’t sure if Val understood even half of what I had just said, I wasn’t sure if I understood it. His hand reached up for his head, and he combed his fingers back and forth through his hair several times with his eyes shut in concentration for several seconds. Frowning slightly he reached over, and carefully turned my face towards his in order to make eye contact with me.

“Okay, let’s take this one point at a time. First, if you were even thinking about calling me, you should have done it. Calling me should have been a given, leaving me out wasn’t an option. When something bad happens to you, I want to know about it. Just like you would want to know, if something had happened to me. I didn’t like being called by Matt hours after the event to find out you had been injured. We are partners, and partners don’t keep things like that from each other period!”

I hadn’t even thought about how not calling him left him out of the loop, and how that made him feel. I was so busy focusing on how I felt that I hadn’t really thought about his feelings. It made me realize I had been selfish and I didn’t like the way that realization made me feel.

“Val, I’m really sorry I didn’t call,” I said. “I was going to call, but then . . .” The ‘but’ and the start of an excuse just sort of fell out of my mouth before I could stop them, even in the face of knowing I had screwed up, I didn’t quite want to admit I was totally wrong.

Val abruptly held up his hand in a ‘stop’ motion, telling me with his actions and his eyes that he wanted me to stop talking and listen. I managed to cut off my words and the excuse they were meant to offer, but it was very hard to do.

“If your apology comes with a ‘but’ attached, it isn’t really an apology, and I am not in the mood for more excuses.” He looked at me pointedly then went on. “Now point number two is that you seemed pretty hung up on the idea that the only option available to us yesterday, if you called was for me to come home. Did you even think about other solutions?” He prodded me with his words.

I shrugged my shoulders not sure how to answer. “Jon? Did you?” He prompted again, a little more forcefully this time.

“Um, well, uh . . . no, mostly I was trying to figure out if I was hurt bad enough for you to come home, I hadn’t really thought about anything else.” I sort of stammered out my answer. I really hadn’t thought about any other solutions to my dilemma at the time.

“Jon, the debate wasn’t between ‘call Val and he comes home’ and ‘don’t call Val.’ I realize that you hadn’t thought of any other solutions, but had you called me, we could have come up with some other options that didn’t necessarily require me coming home.” Val stated firmly, while I looked down towards my knees, and fiddled nervously with the wrinkles in my sleep pants.

“Jon, look at me” he prompted me, so I slightly tilted my face towards his, and he reached over, and took my hands into his. “I understand that you were concerned about me making an unnecessary trip home, and that was a legitimate concern for you to have in those circumstances. If you had called me, you could have explained your situation, and we could have figured out some kind of plan, if we wanted to wait and see how things went. We could have made a plan to check in with each other every so often for the rest of the day, and monitored your progress to see if you were improving or needed me to come on home.” That idea hadn’t even occurred to me.

“We also could have arranged for a neighbor or friend to check on you, or stay with you.” Why did solutions come so easily to him? There are times I could worry over a problem for hours, and not see a way out, while Val seems to be able to list a whole myriad of solutions in a matter of seconds. It made me realize how stupid it was for me to not call him at all. I guess I got so caught up in trying to decide whether I should call him, that I didn’t consider the fact that he might have other ideas or solutions.

He went on, the voice of authority and confidence. “Shoot, part of the solution to our problem came by the house to see you. Had you called me, we could have had Matt hang out at the house with you for the evening, and to call me if things got worse or it looked like you needed a doctor. Although” he said with emphasis “the plan wouldn’t have involved you roaming all over town with him. Which brings us to point number three. Can you tell me what you were thinking, when you agreed to go to church with Matt last night?” He asked incredulously and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Well, honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t feeling well when he asked, and I even said ‘no’ at first, but he wore me down and talked me into it. I almost think I agreed to go because I was tired of arguing with him.”

“Jon, if I had been home, do you really think I would have agreed to you going out to traipse all over town last night?”

“We weren’t exactly traipsing all over town. We went to church,” I said indignantly. Val just raised an eyebrow at me.

“Where you went wasn’t the point Jon. The point is that you had injured yourself, and weren’t feeling well. The place you needed to be was here at home.” I should have known that objection wasn’t going to score any brownie points with him. As far as Val was concerned leaving the house to go to church was as bad as going clubbing, since it was the leaving part that mattered to him not the where part.

Not much I could say to that, so I just stared down at the carpet, starting to see the writing on the wall, and the message wasn’t good.

Val sat quietly for a moment just looking at me, and I kept looking down at my feet, avoiding looking directly at Val, not wanting to see the disappointment or hurt in his eyes. “Jon, there is something else we need to talk about.” He said quietly but firmly. “I am starting to see a pattern where Matt is concerned, and it isn’t a very good one.”

I jerked my head up in surprise at his words and looked at his face. Not exactly sure where this discussion was headed and not even sure if I wanted it to go there, but I had to clarify at least one concern.

“You aren’t going to tell me I can’t be friends with Matt anymore are you?”

“No, you’re an adult, and who you choose to be friends with is up to you, but you do need to learn how to make the right decisions, when it comes to Matt or anyone else you choose to be friends with. I notice you don’t always use good judgement, when you’re with Matt. And you just told me, you didn’t really want to go with him, but gave in because you didn’t want to argue. That isn’t using your common sense or any sense for that matter.”

“But Matt is so persuasive, he just wears me down” I answered honestly. I had been trying to fend off Matt’s persuasive ways for years, but he seemed to know exactly which buttons to push in order to get me to come around to his way of thinking. “Val, I don’t know, if I can learn how to tell him no,” I said, knowing that deep down what he said was right, but unsure of my abilities to say no.

“Jon, that’s why I'm here. We can figure out some useful strategies to help you use your common sense where he is concerned. I will be here to encourage you when you do the right thing, but I will also be here to hold you accountable, when you forget to use those strategies. You have been friends for a long time, you aren’t going to be able to get out of old habits unless you make a conscious effort, and even then, it will probably take some time. But it is something we can work on together.” His voice was gentle and firm and he exuded confidence in his abilities and mine.

“Look, we don’t have to work out the details right now. We can talk about Matt and figure out some workable strategies for you to deal with him later this afternoon. We have some other business we need to deal with right now.” His whole demeanor changed, from the gentle and confident encourager, to the firm and unwavering disciplinarian.

“You’re going to spank me aren’t you?” I asked finally verbalizing the question that had been swirling around in my head since we entered the office.

“Yes, I am going to spank you.” he answered matter-of-factly as he strode across the room and pulled the straight back chair out from the wall into the center of the room and sat down. He lightly patted his thighs in invitation and said “Come on, let’s get this over with”

This part was always difficult. I had been in this position before, and it never got easy, each time was as hard as the last. A part of me knew I had screwed up, and that I deserved a spanking, but there was always that little voice in the back of my head telling me to run!. But I also knew that I had agreed to this relationship, because it really was good for me, and I also knew deep down that I could trust Val completely.

I slowly stood up and walked over to where Val was seated, patiently waiting for me to submit. Val never rushed me in these situations. Like always he waited with an unwavering but encouraging look on his face until I was ready to comply. I looked down at my feet, unable to meet his eyes as I reached for the waistband of my pants. I pushed down my pants and undwear in one motion, and laid down over Val’s knees, placing one hand on the carpet for balance while holding his leg with the other. I felt his left arm wrap around my waist, and gently pull me towards his body to steady me, and his other hand rested firmly on my butt. I help my breath waiting for the first swat. And when it came, I thought of little else than the pain I was in and what I had done. I don’t know how long the spanking lasted, for some reason time seems to stand still when I am in this position. I know it didn’t take long for Val to bring me to tears. When it was all over, he helped me rearrange my clothes and walked me over to the couch where I curled up with my head in his lap, while he gently rubbed my back. Neither of us said much as the tears gradually tapered off. My butt still hurt, but not with anything near the intensity it had during the actual spanking and right after.

“Val, I really am sorry” I told him once again. He brushed my hair out of my eyes and murmured “I know babe, I know, and all is forgiven you can let it go.”

We stayed that way on the couch for a while, neither of us ready to move, and needing the physical closeness to reconnect with each other after the emotional rollercoaster that often comes with a spanking. At some point we gradually started to talk about our plans for the day, and what items were on our to-do lists. As we talked, the events of that morning were gradually pushed aside for the mundane little things that made up the majority of our lives. I was with the man I loved, and I knew deep down that everything was going to be okay.

The End