“Good boy,” Cypress said softly. “Are you at the funeral home still?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m on my way.”
They hung up, and Tom felt a little better. He had stopped crying at least and got himself cleaned up. His hands were trembling too much to even think about fixing Mr. Lundy, and he covered him up with a sheet.
He left the prep room to wait out in the garage, hugging himself as the minutes dragged by. He didn’t know how long it was before Cypress popped in through the flower door, but Tom ran right to him the second he saw him.
“Hey.” Cypress held out his arms, catching Tom and hugging him tight. He kissed his hair, rubbing his back slowly. “I’m here.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Tom panted, clinging to Cypress’s neck. It felt so good to be held, and he was afraid he might start crying again.
“I’m sorry, too.” Cypress sighed. “This is all my fault.”
“What?” Tom scoffed, shaking his head. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re dropping,” Cypress explained, pulling back so he could look at Tom. “This kinda thing happens, especially with submissives. It’s like a crash or a really bad emotional hangover from a scene.”
“But that’s… isn’t that why we have the aftercare?”
“Yes, but we had a lot of really intense scenes, all back to back.” Cypress kissed his brow. “I should have made us take a break.”
“I wanted to do all that stuff.”
“Ah, but I should have known better. I was selfish. And after what happened at the party, I should have known something like this could happen.”
“So, what?” Tom smiled weakly. “Heh. We’re both assholes then?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Cypress laughed quietly, hugging Tom close again. “Mm. Even though you are still totally an asshole, I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” Tom whispered, turning his head to nuzzle Cypress’s soft beard and breathe in his scent. He was calmer now, and the pain in his chest had eased to a dull throb.
“Tell me what you need,” Cypress urged.
“Please just hold me. Don’t let go.”
Cypress embraced Tom, wrapping his thick arms around him and cradling his head against his shoulder. Tom closed his eyes and sighed, the anguish fading into the background of his mind.
It was safe here.
He didn’t know who moved first, but slowly their lips found one another’s in a sweet kiss. It was gentle, tender, and left Tom’s head absolutely spinning.
When they finally parted, Tom felt like he was floating, and he was pleasantly out of breath.
“Tell me again what happened at the party,” Cypress asked quietly, raising his hand to brush Tom’s hair out of his face. “You said it was a woman screaming?”
“Do you remember when I had that work-related injury?” Tom touched his lip. “It was from this lady, Mrs. Dresser. We had to pick up her son, and she got hysterical when we tried to leave. Hit me, and then Bosco, the other guy I was with, got between us. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her.”
“She had just lost her son?” Cypress frowned in sympathy. “Fuck. That’s a nasty kind of pain.”
“Yeah.” Tom sighed. “I’ve been hearing her ever since, and at the party…” He shivered and tried again. “At the party, I heard that other lady screaming, and all I could think about was Mrs. Dresser.”
“I’m sorry.” Cypress kissed his cheek. “For both of you.”
“Both of us?”
“You take a little bit of all these families’ pain on yourself. You have such empathy for them, which is beautiful, but you care so much that it’s hurting you, too.”
