Power Swap: Learn How to Fall

This was one of the many reasons that Sean thought they were good for one another. They cared for each other, worried about each other; those were the same reasons that others thought that their relationship was unhealthy, a thought he’d heard before and one he would no longer. That was a benefit, since he didn’t care for people passing judgment on his relationship with Josh. Codependent love was still genuine love.

However, he interrupted his introspection to correct his partner. “It’s our kitchen.” His voice was soft as he reminded the other man that this house was theirs, not his.

The former telepath continued drying his limbs. He didn’t want to be damp when he put on his pajamas, because that would make sleep uncomfortable. Once he finished drying his limbs, he wrapped the towel around his waist, over the swim trunks. Then he could change into pajamas, toss the swim trunks over the door of the shower to dry and then add them to the laundry tomorrow.

“They’re strong enough that I need to get them prescribed by my internist.” It was unethical, although not illegal, to prescribe medicine to oneself, and Sean took that quite seriously. As such, he explained his insomnia to his general practitioner, who wrote him the prescription, and Sean took them rarely.

He tightened the towel around his waist and shook his head. “No, thank you. I’ll just change, get myself a glass of water, and put Bookends on.”

Sean accepted the other man’s correction with a nod and left it at that. He was satisfied with the acknowledgment.

He also didn’t find his sleeping pills particularly fascinating; then again, he had to live with the insomnia, and psychiatric medications were merely part of his job and part of life, nothing more. “They’re too dangerous to sell over the counter,” he explained, because they were too potent and potentially habit-forming. That was why he was careful and used them only when he desperately needed to sleep. Tonight, rather today since it wasn’t yet night, qualified as desperate need.

Now that the former telepath felt dry, and warm enough, and his skin wasn’t clammy, he moved from the bathroom into the bedroom proper. He found his pajamas, throw the towel over his shoulder, pulled off his swim trunks, gave himself one last rub down, and then donned the pajama bottoms, followed by the top, although he didn’t button it yet.

He brought the towel and the swim trunks back into the bathroom, hanging both up to dry. Then he brushed his teeth and filled a glass with water from the tap, brought it back out and set it atop the coaster on his nightstand.

That was followed by kneeling in front of the CD rack to find Bookends. He spoke softly over his shoulder. “You don’t have to stay with me.” He didn’t wish to further depress his partner, who had suffered more than enough today as it was. “I don’t know how long it will take for this to kick in.”

The former telepath knew that he was stress-addled; every waking moment of this day had further proven that. However, it came to the fore with the simple realization that he couldn’t find this album, even though he knew he’d put it back after the last time he’d listened to it. He sighed softly and reached up to rub his eyes, before scanning the rack for the third time.

“Please don’t ask me what I want.” His voice was soft, filled with resignation; Sean didn’t turn his head as he made that request, instead spoke into the CD rack. “I don’t have wants; I have holes and I have needs.” Wants were luxuries for when he was able to cope.

He still couldn’t find the CD, which was frustrating. Sighing to himself, he pulled out James Taylor’s Greatest Hits and then made a fourth pass for the album he wanted. But it wasn’t there, which was fitting.

Unwilling to stress himself out over something so trivial, he simply gave up and pushed himself to his feet. Then he crossed to the small stereo system and loaded the CD inside. He moved to his underwear drawer and pulled out the bottle of pills while Something in the Way She Moves began to play. The pills were kept there so that he didn’t confuse them with his vitamins while half-asleep. Sean poured one into his hand, slipped under his tongue and then moved to sit on the bed. A sip of water and he swallowed.

He still hadn’t buttoned his pajama top. And as he shifted to lay down, he rested his left hand over his pectoral, over the scar, covering it.

Josh hadn’t known Sean when he was a student at Hammel; if he had, he would realize that these descriptions and problems weren’t new but were merely throwbacks to how he had been as a teenager.

The former telepath wasn’t given the opportunity to answer Josh’s question. Instead, a mere moment after it was asked, he felt his partner come up beside him, felt his partner’s arms wrapped around him. Felt and saw Josh’s hand cover his atop his pectoral, covering the dead flesh with life.

He needed to stop those morose thoughts if he had any hope of falling asleep at this hour, even with the sleeping pills. He’d proven to himself before that he could, under certain conditions, resist the medication, although that had been with his telepathy. Perhaps without the mental background noise, other circumstances wouldn’t matter.

He would have to see.

Sean lifted his other hand, shifted to let his arm drape across Josh’s body. “Thank you,” he whispered, grateful, as he had been all day, for the fact that the other man was here with him when this was so unpalatable.

“I will.” If his telepathy hadn’t returned by the time he woke up, he would draw on everything left within him to pretend that he was better. Josh deserved that much.