#not really?

“Hey.” John’s fingers pressed into Bob’s abdomen. He pressed a kiss to Bob’s hair then exhaled and shifted beneath him. Bob adjusted with him, fitting their bodies back against each other. “What happened to Emma?”

Bob chuckled and nuzzled his cheek against John’s shoulder. Emma was a contestant on the baking competition they were watching who had been eliminated an entire episode earlier.

“She got kicked off,” Bob mumbled. “Soggy bottoms.”

“Mmhm.” John nodded, his beard tickling Bob’s temple. “Must’ve blinked.”

That was what John always said. He hadn’t fallen asleep, he’d just blinked. For an hour. Bob smiled and reached his left hand up to pat John’s cheek. He leaned up just high enough to press a kiss to his jaw and took a moment to appreciate the faint scent of his beard balm.

After they’d agreed not to try and force sex when their bodies didn’t want it, Bob wasn’t sure what would happen. They committed to prioritizing non-sexual intimacy, but Bob didn’t know what that meant. He’d never been in a relationship where he was valued above his body or his access to drugs.

It turned out, what John meant by “non-sexual intimacy” was everything Bob loved the most. It meant cuddling without question or requirement, spending time together regardless of whether their days were good or bad. It meant unexpected hugs and soft kisses almost every time they crossed paths.

As much as Bob loved their sex, he loved their quiet time more. He loved being held, loved knowing how happy John was when they cuddled that way. He loved that John felt comfortable enough with him to fall asleep, that he felt comfortable enough with John to curl up between his limbs and not feel pinned down.

The next episode ended, and the TV switched to the screen to ask whether Bob was still watching. Rather than click the yes button, he snuggled deeper into John’s sleeping arms. He listened to the soft rhythm of John’s heartbeat and let his own breaths follow the steady rise and fall of John’s chest.

John’s hands squeezed the fabric of Bob’s sweatshirt, his beard dragging along the top of Bob’s head as he shifted in his sleep. Bob tugged the blanket back up over their shoulders and let out a satisfied sigh.

When they made that agreement not to worry about sex, Bob thought it would feel like something was missing but it didn’t. If anything, Bob felt like their relationship was even better than before. He smiled as his eyes drifted shut, silently wishing that those soft cuddles could become their new normal.

II. (contains non-sexual nudity)

He didn’t expect John to join him in the shower that morning.

Bob was so caught up in his own head that he didn’t even hear John enter the bathroom. John’s arms snaked around him with little warning, his soft cock pressing against Bob’s cheeks as he hugged him in a tight embrace.

“Morning, baby,” said John, his nipples and chest hair tickling Bob’s back. Warm water rushed over them both as John kissed the back of Bob’s neck, lips lingering a little longer than they needed to.

“Morning,” Bob muttered, heart already pounding with anticipatory shame. “I don’t know if I can—”

“No, no. I’m not here for that. I just wanted to be close to you.” His lips found Bob’s neck again, then his shoulder, and finally his jaw. “Can I wash your hair?”

The very idea of it sounded so sweet that Bob fully froze for a moment before he was able to say, “Yeah. Yeah, you can do that.”

John’s fingers slid into Bob’s hair with ease, calloused skin gently working tangles out of his curls. Bob closed his eyes as the water rushed over him, as John moved from unraveling Bob’s hair to massaging his scalp.

After a couple of minutes, John kissed the back of Bob’s head and pulled away. He grabbed Bob’s shampoo from the shelf and slowly worked it into his hair, citrus-scented bubbles fizzing around Bob’s ears. John moved methodically, making sure he didn’t miss a single lock.

He applied the smallest amount of pressure to tilt Bob’s head forward, letting the water run over his hair. John squeezed out every bubble and then massaged Bob’s head just a little more. Once he was satisfied, he reached for the conditioner and a comb.

Admittedly, Bob’s hair hadn’t been washed that thoroughly in a long while. He lazily scrubbed his shampoo in and then rinsed the conditioner out after about thirty seconds. John took his time with all of it. He combed the conditioner through Bob’s hair, ensuring it was evenly distributed, then kissed his cheek and told him to wait a full five minutes for it to sink in.

“Can I wash your hair while we wait?” asked Bob impulsively. John hesitated before he smiled, nodded, and handed Bob his own bottle of soap. It was a muskier smell than Bob liked for himself, but Bob loved it for the way it smelled like John.

Bob turned around, poured the soap directly on top of John’s head, and laughed at the face he made. He dragged his fingers through John’s hair, thoroughly coating it with soap. Once his head was covered in bubbles, Bob scooped up a few and pressed them on John’s nose.

In response, John leaned forward and kissed Bob immediately, popping the bubbles on his face. Bob set the soap down on the ledge as he leaned into the soft kiss, hands wandering to John’s ass AKA the world’s greatest stim toy.

“I love you,” said Bob without thinking, without questioning, without a single care in the world.

John chuckled and pressed another quick kiss to his lips. “That mean you want me to join you again?”

“Wouldn’t complain.”

In Bob’s mind, wouldn’t complain loosely translated to I want you at my side for the rest of my life.

III.

“I talked to my psychologist about the service dogs.”

“Yeah?” John glanced at Bob, a small smile on his face. They were lying in bed late at night, John’s arm around Bob’s shoulders where he cuddled at his side. “What did she say?”

“She thinks it would be good for me,” Bob started, one ear focused on John’s steady heartbeat. “She told me how they help by interrupting behaviors and grounding and how it could reassure me my hallucinations aren’t real.”

“You still think you want one, then?”

Bob hesitated before he shrugged. “I don’t know. It sounds like a long process to get one and I might just be rejected in the end if they think my condition isn’t severe enough.”

“Know that I’m saying this with love,” said John, “but your condition is absolutely severe enough.”

“Mmhm. I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about. I just wanted to update you.” He hugged John’s waist, nuzzling his cheek against John’s shoulder. John pressed a tender kiss to his hair, fingers gently massaging Bob’s upper arm. “How was your day?”

“Boring. The meeting took so long I got distracted scrolling through my phone.”

Meetings with Valentina tended to end that way, Bob had learned. She liked to rant about this and that and then have Mel reiterate the exact same things she said. But it was an hour now and then in exchange for significant funds, so the team decided it was worth it.

“Not doomscrolling, right?” asked Bob, concern lacing his tone.

“I started out doomscrolling,” John admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, “but then I saw this recipe for key lime crinkle cookies that I thought you’d like, and I spent the rest of the meeting reading about how to make those. I couldn’t decide which add-ins you’d like best.”

The blush on his face was faint, but he felt it. Sometimes, Bob still couldn’t believe that someone cared about him enough to think of sweet things like that for him. “What was there?”

“A couple kinds of glaze, chocolate, coconut, graham crackers… I think you definitely want the extra key lime in there, right? I was thinking the key lime glaze might be good.”

“Yeah. I want that and the graham crackers.” John smiled, satisfied enough that Bob supposed his guess must have been right. “Do you have to do anything tomorrow?”

John took a moment to think before he answered, “No.”

“Can we make the cookies together?”

“I’d like that.” John’s lips brushed against Bob’s temple. He reached his right hand up to tuck Bob’s hair behind his ear, his left still hugging Bob’s upper arm. “You want me to have the key limes delivered or you want to go to the store when you get up?”

“I’ll go to the store with you.” Bob yawned as his eyes drifted shut, his body sinking into John’s warmth. “Let’s get bagels and then we can get the key limes on the way home.”