Yes, I’m fully aware that’s a conversation I should have with Leo at some future date.
If we end up…I don’t know.
Reconciling, maybe?
Hopefully. The word I’m looking for ishopefully.
Because I’m hoping I’ll end up reconciling with Leo.
Except he hasn’t reached out to me in months. I know he said he’d give me the space I told him I needed, but…
Sigh.
I’m still fully dressed—including my blazer—because I learned a lot from Leo during my time with him. Like understanding the psychological impact of stripping Elliot and cuddling with him while I’m clothed.
It’s both a power thing and a comfort thing. The tangible symbol of me being in charge means Elliot is free to let go and trust me. Gives him the brief mental vacation he desperately needs right now.
Some of the hottest times Leo and I had together were me riding him when he was still dressed, and I was butt-naked. Very sexy knowing what I was doing to him, that I could drive him so close to the edge of losing his composure and control.
I have to be Elliot’s safe space. Ihaveto be the one person he knows he can let go with. The person he can absolutely lean on without fear of me bending or breaking.
Ihaveto be the person he can count on to always have his back and be there for him.
It’s vital for his mental and emotional health, for his overall well-being.
It’s something that’s been neglected for too long.
Not deliberately.
At least, Ihopenot deliberately.
Another wave of anger rolls in and I shove it away once more. Don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep doing that until I’ll need to adress it.
But these two men don’t exactly pull weekend shifts at McDonald’s. They both have jobs where an entire country is relying on them, and the weight of their responsibilities weighs greatly upon them.
Not to mention Leo’s extremely careful.
And Elliot’s extremely scared.
Turning a little, I get Elliot more or less snuggled in my lap. Me being dressed give me somewhat of an emotional boost, too, because I don’t feel the four-inch height difference between us quite as much. I’m five-seven to Elliot’s six-one.
My left hand lays splayed across his chest, where he wraps his fingers around me and holds on. With my right hand, I continue massaging his head.
I love the soft little noises he makes as I do that. Sitting there studying him, with his eyes closed and his head firmly pressed against my arm, I can almost let my imagination run away with me.
I can almost pretend I completely and trulyownhim.
The man who’s likely going to be our next president.
I can pretend Leo doesn’t fill his heart and soul every bit as much as Leo fills mine.
I can pretend there will be a fairy-tale happily ever after for the two of us.
There’s no doubt in my mind it’ll be virtually impossible for me not to become deeply emotionally attached to Elliot.
There’s also little doubt in my mind I’m probably looking at getting my heart broken at some future point, either by him or Leo, or maybe even both.
I am, however, a man of my word. Here I am, for as long as Elliot needs and wants me here.
Where I’ll be in the future is probably something best not contemplated, for now.
