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The shower runs on and on. Leo can never sleep with the water running in the background, so he waits it out with a book in hand. That's how it started, anyway. As of late, he took to mindlessly scrolling the news on his phone, juggling various flavors of terror in some kind of masochistic desire. But that high has dulled by now, and he is never in the mood to read anymore, so he just stares forward while Chase is getting his long shower on.
It feels like every shower is getting slightly longer than the last. Two hours in the bathroom every night... It's ridiculous. It really makes a difference on the water bill. Even with the favorable billing rates from registering as a hydrophilic household.
This is so stupid. Just earn more money. It's what you do as a husband. What use is there for you if you can't even pay for the utilities.
The air is very lonely in this bedroom. Every now and then a memory gently billows from behind the curtains, and then a brittle little ghost strung from cobwebs and flimsy promises cradles Leo from behind.
He misses sex. It's been years, but him and Chase used to fuck like animals all the time, sometimes even multiple times a day. Missionary in the bed, sloppy head in the shower, doggystyle in the backyard, pawjob under the dinner table. Chase would offer himself and Leo would jackhammer his loose hole until the otter pissed himself on the coffee table. There was such raw, insatiable lust between the two. Now Leo is lucky if he gets a single blowjob this month. There's always an excuse now. Tonight, it was a headache. He can't even look Chase in the eye when he gets off work.
Why? He sees to all of his duties, he puts the food on the table, he protects his husband from the hardships of the world... They have the house of their dreams! This is the life their teenage selves dreamed of! Where does this shame come from? When did Chase's gaze get so dull and unkind? Maybe they should adopt a kid. That'd fix it. Everything hurts.
Leo sighs and rubs his forehead. The strands of fur are lightly slick with sweat. Everything hurts. Especially his skin. His heart. His soul. It all aches for the touch, the breath, the sight of a lover and there's only so much a memory can do to numb this pain.
Chase is going to be in the shower for another hour. Might as well reach down and rub at the shaft. Might as well grab the base of the knot and pull. Think of shooting a litter into his guts, why don't you. Knock him up with a girl that you're going to call Camilla. Bury your fucking cock inside him and hear him whimper your name. So warm, so soft, so precious. Kiss him. Kiss him. Tear him apart—
It's not happening. There's a wet spot on the sheets, but it's not cum. He'll have to try harder. He'll have to do the thing.
He clumsily takes off his boxers, as if wounded in battle, and holds the slightly stained crotch fabric to his nose. It does not smell as good as Chase down there, and somehow it does not smell manly enough.
He quickly searches some porn up on his phone. He's got it down to a science by this point. He knows the sites, he knows the image galleries and message groups, he has twenty-six gigabytes of high definition emergency porn on his phone's memory. Mechanic, dom daddy, bear, small sub, mustelidae, canid. Leo taps on the video with the most interesting thumbnail and spreads his thighs after sucking on his middle and ring finger.
He almost tries to take the ring off with his mouth but decides to keep a shred of dignity at the last moment.
He massages his tight, supple hole and pokes just the tips of his fingers in, not even inside of himself, just rubbing the rim of his sphincter. It's sensitive. His knot swells with blood.
The guys in the video are good. The top is an older fox with huge muscular arms and a greying, machine oil-stained coat with nothing underneath his mechanic jumpsuit. The bottom is a younger flexible ferret who gets loud and clingy. It looks like they're co-workers. The fox treats the ferret like a piece of meat. A living fleshlight that he spreads on the hood of a car and straightens the guts of with machine mercilessness.
That dick is too big for the ferret. He writhes and squirms under the mountain of testosterone as discomfort melts into pleasure melts into pain melts into pleasure, endlessly. His soft cock slaps against his own balls, and the man suddenly calls him a greedy faggot in an uncharacteristically affectionate tone, prompting more incoherent moans from the ferret.
Must feel good, Leo thinks while pressing his prostate. He hasn't acknowledged it, but he's knuckle-deep now. He's trying to think as little as possible, and while that has never been an issue before, thoughts just can't stop from forming. Like how the fox reminds him of his dad or how he wishes Chase was the ferret...
This large, masculine man folding his husband like a chair and fucking him till he barfs up cum. Milking that tool with Chase’s warm, velvety guts and him drooling and crying in the bliss of his prostate getting flattened by a cock the size of his forearm. Watching that fox have his way for hours in the bed they spent their honeymoon in. Chase not even thinking of resisting, just happy someone can satisfy him. Just happy gagging on a cock like a greedy faggot. Just happy.
When Chase's hole is so full of cum it won't even close, the fox grabs him by the scruff of the neck and towels his post-shift sweat off with his face. It goes into his armpits, his crotch, between his sweaty asscheeks. There's not a hint of Leo's scent now, and the fox takes Chase's hand, and grabs the ring, and—
Fuck.
He came. From a cheating fantasy. With two fingers up his ass.
An overwhelming wave of deep shame completely sweeps Leo off his feet and grinds his body against the gravel into minced meat. With a box of tissues in hand, he chases the wet stains around the bed, making short stops to sob and whimper.
How could he? He hasn't considered the gospel for many, many years, but what he did is definitely some kind of sin that he would go to hell for. This is not what a husband is. This is not what a man is. This is not what any of that is!
Just pathetic. Fantasizing about Chase cheating on you with a porn actor. Then moving in with him, yeah? Into a house where he can go to college and can actually land a job? Where he gets a safe space or some other liberal bullshit like that??
Leo hits himself on the head to shut everything up like a malfunctioning radio, and it works, somehow. The sudden pang of pain is enough to put himself back on earth. He feels a little in control, but his eyes are bone dry and his cheeks are matted.
He quietly disposes of the tissues, does some breathing exercises, and dries his face with a kitchen towel.
The guys from the video are still at it, now ferret dominating the fox. Leo can't bear to look at them and shuts off the phone like it's a ticking bomb.
As if on cue, the shower stops. Fifteen minutes later, Chase emerges dressed and groomed.
"Did you stare at the wall the entire time I was showering again?" He gives Leo an unamused glance upon hearing the informative silence. "Get a hobby."
He dives under the blankets and lets a small, squeaky yawn part from his throat. "Goodnight," he says in a single slurred breath and faces away from Leo.
"Love you, Chula."
"Mhm."
"Goodnight."
"Mhm." A pause. "Love you too."
Just like that, Leo feels normal again. The past thirty minutes might as well not have happened. In fact, he might as well have hallucinated it all, given how easy it was to shove into the far back of his mind.
The room still feels cold. He doesn't touch Chase. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe they should adopt a child.
That would make things right.
A happy family.
It's just what they need for everything to stop hurting.