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Jean settled into her therapist’s chair, crossed her legs, and levelled the two boys with an all-encompassing stare. “Eric. Adam. What brings you here today?”

The taller of the two boys sat slouched in his chair with his legs spread wide and his hands clasped in front of his male anatomy. Adam’s body language was as classic an example of masculine protectionism as Jean had ever seen.

“I don’t know why we’re here, to be honest. This is fucking weird as shit.” Adam stated, avoiding eye contact.

Eric, on the other hand, met Jean’s eye and smiled politely. He was obviously compensating for his boyfriend’s standoffishness. Jean had seen this dynamic a million and one times. The reluctant husband who would rather be anywhere else and the hopeful but desperate wife who’d dragged him in kicking and screaming. She hoped they’d be able to move past this stage quickly.

“We’re here,” Eric started, a subtle edge to his voice. “—because someone didn’t feel comfortable talking to Otis instead.”

“Yeah, well I’m not going to talk to New Kid about this, am I?” Adam retorted.

Jean held up a placating hand. “It’s good you’re both here. I’m ready and equipped to help you. However—preceding that—I will need one of you to tell me what the problem is.”

Surprisingly, it was Eric whose lips zipped shut and Adam who answered.

“My dick’s too big and won’t fit inside his hole.”

Eric’s face looked as though he’d just swallowed a lemon.

Jean jotted down a quick note on her pad of paper. “And is this how you would characterize the problem, Eric?”

The boy who she’d watched play with Otis in diapers nodded sheepishly. “His dick’s not too big, really. I mean it’s pretty big, but… The problem is my bum’s not good for shit. Except… well, shit.”

Adam, from where he sat, cracked a small smile that went unnoticed by Eric.

“So you’ve attempted intercourse before and were unsuccessful?” Jean asked.

“Yeah. Several times. We’ve tried different kinds of lubes. All sorts of positions.” Eric huffed, becoming more and more visibly flustered. “It just won’t go in.”

Jean nodded, calm as ever. “And are you always adequately stimulated before he attempts to enter you?”

Eric and Adam shared a glance.

“We don’t know what that means,” Adam said.

“It means—did you dedicate an adequate amount of time to foreplay? Kissing? Touching? Fellatio? Rimming? Did you bring Eric to orgasm—or the brink of orgasm—beforehand, Adam? Was he relaxed or in a state of anticipation when you attempted to enter him?” Jean questioned.

The two shared another look. Eric, wide-eyed. Adam, confused.

“We kissed,” Eric offered. “Usually Adam sucks me off, but we’ve been really focused on popping my cherry lately. So…”

Jean hmm’d and wrote some more on her notepad.

“I don’t like that she’s writing so much,” Adam whispered to Eric under his breath. Jean could still hear him, but she pretended like she couldn’t.

“Foreplay is paramount, boys. Paramount means “more important than anything else.” It is not to be neglected,” Jean lectured softly. “Now, I’m going to give you a few lessons to implement and we’ll meet back here in three weeks to assess your progress.”

“We have to do this again?” Adam asked, deadpan.

Eric slapped him on the arm. “We’re willing to do whatever, Jean.”

Jean uncrossed her legs, stood from her chair, and walked over to the chest of drawers by the door to her office. “I have something I want to give you, Eric.” She pulled a small cardboard box from the middle drawer and returned to her seat. She held it out to him and he took it, the smile on his face quickly dissipating once he realized what it was.

He held it away from his lap, examining it. “It’s a—”

“Butt plug.” Jean finished. “I want you to get used to wearing it as much as you can. It’ll feel uncomfortable at first, but it’ll help your body acclimate to the feeling of having something inside it. As well, once you’re used to the current setting, there’s a small lever on the side. Pull it down one notch and the plug will expand. Try to reach the highest setting, or the one just below it. This will stretch your anal sphincter gradually and lessen any pain Adam might cause when he’s attempting to enter.”

Eric’s mouth had dropped open while she was giving him his directions.

“In addition, I’m going to recommend something that has helped a number of my patients suffering from this same exact problem. I want you to watch something funny.”

“Sorry, what?” Adam asked, one of his eyebrows raised. Eric still hadn’t recovered from the butt plug.

“Find something that makes Eric laugh. When we laugh, we—” Jean feigned laughter and clutched her stomach. “—tense up. We clench our bodies. But then, we—” Jean let out a breath and allowed her shoulders drop. “—relax. We let go. I want you to put on something that gets Eric laughing and then—when he’s not thinking about it or expecting it—insert your penis.”

Adam nodded slowly, his brows furrowed over his eyes. “Alright.” He slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “Let’s get outta here. Trombona.” He didn’t wait for Eric to follow.

Jean stood as well, accepting Eric’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you for this. See you in three weeks, I guess.” He laughed uncomfortably.

“Good luck,” Jean offered. She watched him go, wondering whether they’d come back or they’d never speak of this again.

Adam was waiting for Eric at Otis’ front door. “We shouldn’t have come here.”

“Yeah,” Eric said quickly. “This was a mistake.

*

Three weeks passed in relative silence. Jean was prepared to sit on her porch with a cup of tea during the hour session she had scheduled with Eric and Adam, but to her surprise, they appeared on her doorstep right on time.

The three of them settled into their respective chairs. Jean slid her reading glasses off and crossed her legs. “So.” She glanced between the two of them. “How are your efforts coming?”

“We did it!” Eric burst out, nearly shouting. His smile stretched from ear to ear; it almost looked like it hurt. “We got it in!”

“That’s wonderful, Eric. Might I ask how long it took?”

Adam cleared his throat. “We followed your directions, even though in the beginning we thought you was mental. Trombona really didn’t want to wear the plug, so I had a bit of fun with that. Took a week, maybe? He hasn’t been off my dick since. It’s practically raw.”

“Adam!” Eric protested.

Jean held up a hand. “This is a safe place. I’m happy to hear that your sex life has seen such wondrous improvement. Most of my patients aren’t able to make such a huge turn-around so quickly.”

“Yeah, and it’s all thanks to you.” Eric sighed and reached a hand out to lay on top of Adam’s. “I’ll never been able to look at Jimmy Fallon the same way again, but—it was worth it.”