August

May 15

Phidias woke, early in the morning, to Henrik's insistent hands pushing his thighs apart. Confusion set in, as it always did, before understanding, and he tried to push the hands away. Henrik put them back, more firmly this time, and by then Phidias was awake enough to remember not to fight.

Henrik kissed him, quickly, and then lifted himself and settled into position between Phidias' spread legs. He was inside quickly, wrapping Phidias' legs around his waist to give him unobstructed access, thrusting rapidly into his mate's opening. Phidias put one hand on his shoulder, squeezing when Henrik entered him too roughly, or too deeply. Henrik was careless in the mornings, Phidias noted - blindly focused on having his need satisfied in full. His touch was not the haphazardness of drink, but he was brisk, businesslike, almost unconcerned for his partner's experience. Phidias wondered if he had ever been like this with Emily. His thoughts began to drift to her, but here halted abruptly when Henrik went into him at an odd angle and he protested with a hiss. Henrik retreated a little and cooed an apology, then moved in closer, pressing his hips flush to Phidias, his cock buried deeply inside of him. Henrik resumed thrusting from the new position, tight up against the V of Phidias' spread legs, and quickened his pace; distractedly, Phidias realized his husband was close to coming.

In moments, Henrik grunted out his orgasm, grinding his hips against Phidias, pressing deep enough to make his partner wince, just slightly. Phidias wiggled backwards just a few centimeters, wanting relief, but the rush of heat inside of him that accompanied Henrik's cum was surprisingly pleasurable, and Phidias languored in it.

After the feeling faded, Phidias looked up at his husband - Henrik was balanced, eyes closed, body flushed, breath coming in pants, above him. Not for the first time, Phidias was struck with how handsome Henrik was, the markers of age that greyed his hair and lined his face seeming to add a magnificence to his appearance.
Henrik collected himself and opened his eyes to meet Phidias'.
"Stay. Twenty minutes."
His accent was thick again. Phidias nodded and looked away, to the clock by the bed. With a smooth engagement of motion, Henrik lifted himself off of Phidias and collapsed prone in the bed beside him. After a minute, he snaked one arm out to rest on Phidias' stomach, just in case.

Awake now, Phidias stared at the ceiling first, then leaned up to look at Henrik. Beside him, his husband appeared to be dozing; his shoulders lifted slightly with each breath, then fell again. His hair stuck up in odd patches from where he'd been sleeping. Even in sleep, he seemed tense; alert. Phidias wondered what Henrik would have been like as a young man. He counted the years back in his head. At twenty...Phidias would have been seven or eight, at best. When Phidias was twenty, Henrik would have been about thirty-three. When he had married Emily and had Cadmus, Henrik would have been almost forty. The thought of Cadmus sparked a wave of emotions inside of him - guilt, anguish, irritation, fear. On Friday, when he had come home later than he'd thought and Henrik had been - not angry, just...determined. No more late evenings. You'll be home before 4. And only one day a week - Cadmus needs you to tutor him. Phidias laid on his back in the dark and put himself back in that moment. He had been surprised, angry, but also deeply deeply relieved. Relieved to have a reason not to go back to that cold, cramped office under lock and key. Relieved not to have to go back to the barred windows and the short shelves and all the things that reminded him not only of how far off he was from his previous life, but also how deep he was into his new one.

He thanked God he had never treated Emily like that. He couldn't imagine it now, looking back. She had always been so strong - brought so much order to their lives. He couldn't have locked her up if he'd tried. Not that he'd ever wanted to. Not that they had ever lived together in a world where he would have to. He looked over at Henrik again. Who had Henrik loved before him, he wondered? If Henrik even loved him now. Love was tricky. A thought suddenly struck him, surprising only in the fact that he hadn't had it previously. Had Henrik been in love before? Had he been married before?

He looked over at the man beside him in bed. Henrik had a son, after all - Anders. Were there other children? Perhaps he had had a wife at some point. But there was no mention of her, no pictures or apparent memories. His friends had not brought up a name. Perhaps she had died, a long time ago. Or perhaps she hadn't been a wife at all, only a tryst who had left Henrik with Anders, who he loved regardless. Phidias' heart began to beat. Or what if something more sinister had taken place? What if she had disappeared? Or been killed. Phidias felt nauseous, suddenly. He really had no idea who the man in his bed was, at all. The nausea rose. Henrik could be anyone - any monster or saint or unlikely beast. As if sensing his husband's tension, Henrik shifted in the bed, his arm tightening around Phidias. Phidias stared at it. His stomach roiled. He needed to get up, get out of this bed. Nervously, he tapped his husband's arm.
"Henrik."
Henrik grunted, but didn't move.
"Henrik, I need to get up."
The response from the pillow was muffled.
"Twenty minutes."
Phidias hesitated.
"I'm going to be sick."
Henrik released him immediately, then turned over and lifted his head to watch with concern as Phidias got up and darted off into their bathroom.

In a few minutes, a knock sounded gently at the bathroom door. Henrik's voice filtered in.
"Are you alright?"
Phidias nodded from where he was sitting on the side of the large bathtub, then felt silly for nodding when there was no one in the room. He cleared his throat. His head felt weird.
"Yes. I'm just...tired."
There was a pause.
"Are you sick?"
Phidias shook his head. Henrik wasn't trying to come in and check on him, he realized. He wondered why not.
"No."
Henrik paused again.
"I'm going to go for a swim."
Henrik hadn't swum since the wedding. He must be missing it. Phidias waited for the sound of footsteps turning to leave. Henrik lingered by the door.
"Would you like to come?" his voice asked suddenly, uncertainly. Phidias contemplated it.
"OK." he decided, finally. "I'll be out in a minute."

~:~

"Kylie! Joshua! Are you going to pay attention, or are you just going to play around?"
June Wick planted an irritated hand on one hip and swiveled around to regard the two young carriers. Adrian glanced over his shoulder and saw that although both boys were looking suitably abashed, they were also sending amused glances to each other. Adrian thought of his old job at the Centre and felt a pang of nostalgia. June exhaled in frustration.
"I mean, I simply do not have an afternoon to waste trying to teach you two if you're not willing to learn!"
Kylie ducked his head and nodded. Beside him, Josh bit his lip hard to keep from giggling. Adrian, sensing June was close to breaking, slapped his notebook shut and slipped his pen in between the binder rings.
"It's OK, Mrs. Wick. I can take it from here."
June looked at Adrian like he'd just brought Christmas.
"Are you sure, Adie?"
Adrian nodded.
"Yes, absolutely. I know you've probably got a lot of other work to do, so go ahead."
June gave Adrian a grateful smile and stood to leave. At the door, he paused and turned back.
"You know, if these two give you trouble - "
Adrian raised a hand to cut him off.
"I'm sure we'll be fine."
June gave Adrian a skeptical look, but without further prodding, disappeared through the door.
Adrian looked at the boys.
"There is no reason for you to treat June like that."
Josh burst into laughter, but Kylie just smirked and shrugged.
"It's not our fault - it's just...what he was teaching us." Kylie leaned forward and flicked the cover of the book in Adrian's lap. "I mean, The Rules of Carrier Etiquette? Seriously? This stuff is old. And it isn't even relevant."
Adrian folded his arms across his chest and gave the pair a withering glare.
"I happened to recommend this book. We read it at the Centre. What makes you think it's not relevant?"
Josh finally managed to control himself enough to speak.
"Because it's not real! It's just...decoration."
Adrian tilted his head and frowned.
"What makes you think it's not real?"
Kylie rolled his eyes.
"Come on, Adrian. We're not stupid, you know."
Josh nodded and leaned forward.
"Yeah. You don't have to be all Good Carrier with us. Besides, if you really want us to make us into good little carriers - "
"That's not what this class is about!" Adrian answered, defensively. "It's not about making you into anything! It's intended to help you manage the transition into being carriers easily, so that - "
"Yeah, yeah, we know." Josh made a dismissive hand motion. "Cross your legs, wear a natori, don't talk back, wake up early, obey your father, obey your husband, obey Dothan, get married, get pregnant, and don't ever leave. That's pretty much it, right?" Josh laughed sharply at Adrian's unimpressed face, then leaned a little closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "All we're saying is, if you really want to teach us something, then tell us something we don't know."
Adrian looked suspiciously between the two teenagers in front of him.
"Something you don't know."
Josh grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet, rocking his chair backwards.
"Yeah! You know. Something interesting. Something scandalous!"
Adrian blinked at him.
"I don't know anything scandalous."
Kylie looked surprised, then disbelieving.
"But what about you and Sean?"
Adrian sat back, surprised. Kylie and Josh exchanged looks, then Kylie added,
"Tell us why you ran away."
Adrian looked at Kylie and his heart caught briefly in his throat. He remembered this kid in diapers, and now suddenly here he was, in long hair and a natori, asking to be told love stories in the library at Carrier House. It didn't seem right, somehow, or fair. It seemed like something had been skipped.
"I - I didn't - "
"Was it because of us?" Josh asked, his interjection sudden and demanding. "Was it because of Dothan?"
Adrian couldn't answer that. Kylie was staring into his eyes; Adrian averted them.
"Did somebody hurt you, Adrian?"
Adrian shook his head furiously.
"No. Nobody hurt me." he shook his head again, caught in a wave of memory.
"Did you love Sean before you left?" Kylie asked, his face screwed up in a curious expression. The question caught Adrian by surprise, and he nodded, the truth coming so clearly through him that it was painful.
"I did. I loved him very much."
"So why'd you leave?" Josh was resting his elbows on his knees now, listening intently. "Why'd you run away?"
Adrian shook his head helplessly.
"It wasn't any one thing, Josh. There - there was no single reason. I just...I just had to do it."
Josh sat back, his face looking both resigned and disappointed. Kylie looked over at his friend, then at Adrian.
"Do you think we're going to want to run away, too?"
Adrian looked at the book, then at his hands, then up at Kylie's face. He remembered himself at that age. Remembered what he'd thought, what he'd felt. What he hadn't. Rebellion, which had quieted so much over the past months that it was barely a whisper, spoke inside of him again. Evenly, he looked Kylie in the face.
"I don't know, Kylie. But I hope so."

~:~

James stared at the pamphlet in his hands. For twenty seconds, he didn't breathe. He didn't breathe; his heart did not beat; his blood froze in place. Everything in the world went quiet.
Harley wanted to cut him.
Even when he could take in air again, it didn't taste right; it tasted coppery, and after a minute, he realized he'd bitten his lip bloody. Hadn't felt the pain. Had only felt fear.
Wellspring Carrier Rehabilitation Facility.
Special Procedures.
Carrier Completion Options.

Here at Wellspring, we take great care with your carrier. We work with you to create an individualized package of procedures...
James skimmed down the page.
...importance of aesthetics....health and safety of your beloved....have the carrier you wish you had....private postsurgery therapy center.....seven optional procedures.....reconstruction, labial augmentation or reduction, vaginal sculpturing, male organ removal....effect reported in less than 37% of patients....

Harley wanted to fucking cut him.
James felt cold, then hot. He felt like he was shivering, but he wasn't sure.
Harley wanted to cut him.
Harley wanted to put him on the chopping block like a goddamn gelding, he wanted to -
"What are you doing?"
James sucked in another fear-breath and jerked backwards, trying to press himself against the wall in defense. Harley was standing in the doorway.
He had his suit jacket slung over one shoulder. He dropped it onto a chair.
He looked innocuous.
James squeezed the pamphlet in his hand.
"You want to cut me."
Harley paused, his right hand on the buttons of his left shirt cuff.
"What are you talking about?"
James shoved the pamphlet forward. His hand was shaking.
"You want to cut me?!"
his voice was taking on a hysterical edge. Harley flicked his eyes down to the pamphlet, then up to James. There was silence in the room. Harley stared at him, and James prepared for a fight. But it didn't come; there was no belligerence in Harley's face, only...something that looked like abashment. Harley shifted his gaze to the buttons on the cuff, working at them intently.
"They said it would help your behavior."
the answer was almost mumbled. James' arm was shaking with the effort of holding up the pamphlet. He dropped it onto the bed, far enough to be within his reach.
"So you want to cut me." James stared at his husband, then at the bed. "You hate me that much, that you want to cut me."
Harley shook his head, still focused on the cuffs.
"I don't hate you. I don't. You're my wife. I just want to help you change your behavior - "
"By cutting me. By chopping me up. OK. That helps. That helps a lot, you sick fucking psycho."
James sat down on the bed and drew his knees up against his chest. Harley shook his head.
"They said that residual testosterone can sometimes appear when the organ is still present, and - "
"FUCK YOU, HARLEY!" James screamed, cutting him off. "Fuck you, and fuck your butcher doctors." He felt like crying. He sucked in two irregular breaths and held it together. Harley shook his head again.
"They said it would stop you from acting so male, it would stop these urges you have, it would help you to fit your new role, and it could be better for the pregnancies, and - "
"BULLSHIT, Harley, BULLSHIT! 'ACTING MALE' - WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!"
Harley pinched his lips together and focused on rolling his left sleeve up to his elbow.
"It means cheating on me."
James stared at him, momentarily silenced.
"I'm not cheating on you." he answered, quickly.
Harley shook his head. His voice was low.
"Carriers shouldn't lie."
James came forward on the bed, kneeling to look up at Harley.
"I'm not cheating on you."
Harley began working on the other sleeve.
"OK."
James scooted closer on the bed, crumpling the pamphlet under one foot.
"HARLEY! I'm not - I never cheated on you!"
"I SAW YOU, James."
James drew his shoulders up and pulled back.
"There was nothing to see."
"You kissed him. You were kissing him. Before I walked in."
James stared at his husband.
"No, I wasn't."
Harley was spending just the same kind of intense focus on this sleeve as the other.
"I saw you." he repeated, albeit more quietly. Then, after a minute: "He wasn't the first."
James shook his head.
"You've got it all wrong, Harl. You do. I never cheated on you."
Harley rolled his sleeve up his forearm.
"OK."
James narrowed his eyes.
"So you've just already decided, haven't you?"
"He's the only person in the house."
"So?"
"Sometimes I think you just can't help yourself."
The corner of James' lip lifted just slightly in a snarl. The fear was gone now, trodden over completely by anger.
"I never touched him."
Harley scoffed and kicked at the carpet, then looked up suddenly, his face challenging.
"Does he even know who you are, James? Does he know what you did to the other ones? Or does he still think that he's special?"
James lost himself utterly in just that moment, and he propelled himself off of the bed and towards Harley, who dodged the lunge just in time. James slid into the wall and snapped around, still enraged. Seething, he got to his feet and faced off his husband.
"Sheridan IS special."
Harley nodded.
"Right."
"He's different. I'm different. This is different." then, after a pause, he added, "It's not going to happen again. I can control it."
Harley didn't answer; his body was tense, his hands clenched into fists, and he was bracing himself for a fight. He was watching James; his eyes darted to the crumpled piece of pamphlet on the bed. James followed his eyes to the bed, then looked back at Harley. Then he straightened his back, brushed himself off with great dignity, and regarded Harley coolly.
"If I ever find a pamphlet like that again, I will cut this child out of me with a goddamn kitchen knife."
Harley stared at him. James shook his head and walked rigidly to the door. In the doorway, he paused.
"Better luck next time, Harl."

~:~