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AFTER THE 'O' MEME

You've done the deed, so is the moment magical or are you instantly regretting it? You need to decide through the euphoria... or the disappointment if it didn't rock your world like you thought it would.

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i. fantastic!
That was everything you thought it would be and then some. You are more than willing to go again and again and again... after you catch your breath! And maybe enjoy some nice cuddling with a nap.
ii. what did we just do?
What you did was entirely impulsive. You didn't think things through and you really hope you didn't mess things up. You're so nervous, you don't even know what to do! It's hard to just relax and enjoy the moment when you want to freak out so bad.
iii. that was okay.
One of you didn't reach the finish mark before the other or the chemistry just wasn't there. Whatever the case is, you have to either let the other know or pretend it was fabulous. Totally! Or at least reassure them it happens to everyone.
iv. aftercare.
In the BDSM sense, aftercare is the process of attending to the intense feelings that come after a session that can range from exhilaration to depression. Kiss, cuddle and pamper your sub.
v. let's not talk about this.
This was a total mistake. You should not have touched that person. Maybe you hate them or maybe it's just wrong for any number of other reasons. Whatever the case is, you need to both swear to just never discuss it.
vi. didn't want to have to hurt you.
Maybe what you did wasn't entirely consensual, but they totally wanted it. You know they did, you could read it in their face. Maybe you just didn't care and took what you wanted instead.
vii. first time.
Your partner didn't know you were a virgin... or maybe they did! Maybe you were both virgins. How was the first time? Do you want to do it again? Are you way too sore to even want to move? Go through those awkward first times together.
viii. wildcard.
Is there some other scene you want to play out? Do so with this option or combine others.

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[They've been preparing, and preparation had gone really well. He had plans, he was considerate and patient and had an actual evening plotted out. This was going to be good, it was going to be so good.

[But tonight.

[but he didn't expect to see Siren on the train. He didn't expect to be recognized ever again, not in California, not here in New York across the fucking country, didn't expect to be cornered on the fucking subway to be threatened by people he was never supposed to see again he didn't expect

[Tonight wasn't in the plan. He came home seeing red, running on a different strategy.

[And now he sees Brad beneath him, wrists red, irritated where the rope holding them to the headboard (keeping him face down) has chafed against his skin. They aren't even out of their clothes, just pants yanked down enough, Brad's shirt shoved up under his arms to expose the almost dangerous curve of his back. There's a dark red welt beneath Party's mouth where he pants against Brad's neck. He curses into that black hair, eyes pinching shut as his mind starts to clear.

[One hand is pinched over the side of Brad's hips, the other sticky with Brad's cum underneath them both. So he did something right, unless it was a fucking fluke. It happens. Party swallows, sighs, and softly, softly, softly kisses the back of Brad's neck.] Brad. Brad? Baby?

[ Thing is, Brad has a hard time saying no to Party. And it's not like he didn't want to -- no, he really, really did. And -- whatever he can do to make Party less mad or full of rage or whatever, he generally does. He didn't protest this!

And it wasn't terrible, he tells himself. But he sort of hurts all over and his wrists are practically burning, and when Party kisses the back of his neck like that, after biting and nipping at him, he winces, tenses up. His breath comes in shaky, leaves even more so, and he keeps his eyes closed, doesn't move from where he is.

Sure, he came, but it wasn't exactly under the best circumstances. Brad's not exactly sure what to say or even feel, so he's quiet, trying to get his breath back. ]

[He just hears labored breath, just sees Brad's body pull tight when Party touches him--oh god. Oh god, oh god.] Okay. [He agrees to no one, lifting his own body up.] Alright, just--just relax baby, hang on, just breathe for me. Just relax.

[Hands settled gingerly at Brad's hips (fuck, fuck, fuck that's bruising, that's fucking bruising), Party pulls out and starts to re-dress--no. No, it's better to undress. Be closer, don't hide, be closer. He carefully pulls his jeans away, coaxing Brad to move his stiff legs and peeling off his own garments quickly before going for that nylon cord holding Brad down. His hands shake as he undoes his own very good knots--

[And slides the rope away. His hands run up and down Brad's forearms, avoiding the aggravated marks, bowing his head for Brad's eyes.] Brad. Can--c'mere, lie down.

[ Brad lets him, stays quiet, does what Party says and just breathes. But he can't relax, and his muscles stay tense, like he's ready to bolt any second. There's a thousand thoughts going on in his head at once and he's biting his lip hard enough to make his eyes water. Or that's what he's telling himself is the cause.

He hisses sharply when Party pulls out and away, and waiting for Party to get the rope off nearly undoes him. But it comes off, and Brad's arms tremble as he pulls away, rubbing at his wrists gingerly. He avoids Party's gaze, lets his hair fall in his face, sits back -- except that hurts like hell and he winces again, sucking in an uncomfortable noise.

He still doesn't say anything, just keeps biting his lip, expression all hard lines and frowns, the way someone looks when they're stubbornly trying not to cry. He will not. It wasn't even that bad. ]

[What has he done, what has he done? Party lets Brad shrink back, even though he's burning to reach from him, push his hair back, hold onto him--]

Brad--I didn't-- [Brad winces, and Party mirrors him, and fuck it, he's leaning forward to reach for Brad's arm, knee, anything.] I'm so sorry. Brad, I'm sorry, I didn't--that was--that was too much, I'm sorry.

[ Brad lets him touch, but he keeps his gaze down and tries to hide his face. Nope. He won't look because that'll unleash the flood. Instead, he shakes his head a little. ]

It's -- it's fine. I'm okay. [ He shakes his head again, stubbornly frowning at the bed, trying to calm down enough to talk without doing that stupid stutter-cry-breath. Shift, and another wince. ] I'm, uhm -- I'm okay.

You're not. [He says quickly, because he knows. They haven't been together this long without him being able to know. Not that it helps anything. When he's not rejected, Party scoots closer, brushing the backs of his fingers over Brad's cheeks.] It's not fine. That's not what I wanted, fuck--fuck, Brad, look at me, please. Brad, talk to me, please.

[ Shit, Party can tell - of course he can, it's not like it isn't obvious. He still won't look, and his voice wavers. It's not that he doesn't want to, it's just he knows the second he does he wouldn't be able to stop himself. So instead he presses his hand over his mouth for a second and gets ahold of himself. Trembles for a minute. ]

No -- no, it's... it's okay. [ He says finally, choking a little on the words. ] Maybe a little -- a little more gentle next time? [ He tries to phrase it as a joke but it falls flat. ] Ahah. Fuck.

Brad! [He wheezes, fingertips just--just pricking at the underside of Brad's chin as Party eases in to kiss his jaw lightly.] I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you, baby, I didn't mean to, I didn't mean it! That's not me, that's not! Oh my god--oh my god, I'm sorry--

[His fear of frightening is quickly overpower by his need to compensate, and as Party apologizes higher and thinner, his hands fall over Brad, down his arms and chest, into the hair that he'd so brusquely grabbed when he first came home. What does he do? How does he take it back?]

[ He lets Party kiss at him, touch, very softly run his hands all over. It feels better, and it makes him feel less like he needs to run away. And he's not really someone who usually needs to get up and take a walk and think through things but honestly, right now, he wants a shower and he wants to be away from Party. He'll come back, promise.

What he does is rest his hand on Party's shoulders and kiss him on the nose, trying to quiet his frantic apologies. ] Shh. I know you didn't. Can -- can I just --

[ Deep breath, and he slides back, off the bed, gingerly. ] I just want -- to take a shower, okay? Please don't go anywhere? I'll be -- I'll be right back. [ He rubs at his face, sniffs. ] Just give me a second.

[ And he goes. You just have to give him a while to compose himself, Party, it'll be okay. ]

No, Brad. Brad, no--let me--Brad, let me help--

[But then he's alone. He doesn't even move until he hears the water running. Even then he doesn't move for about five minutes, just listening to the noise of the shower, trying not to think about Brad about what Brad must think about what he must feel this was never supposed to happen.

[He rolls over and screams into the mattress, then gets up to get dress. Nothing cute, no slinking into Brad's t-shirts or sweatpants--his own shit, clean shit. He goes to the kitchen. Get water, it'll help. Alternatively: crouch on the kitchen floor and rock for a while, then get water. Get two glasses of water. Set one glass on the bedtable. Drink the other. Continue to rock until desire results are achieved.]

[ If he's being completely honest with himself, he feels like shit. Or he does before he gets into the shower, anyway, and he maybe lets himself just flop down and cry into his hands for a minute while he waits for the water to warm up. But he's quiet about it, and -- and after, once he's in the shower, it feels like weight's been lifted off his shoulders.

Brad knows Party has to be beating himself up, so he doesn't take long. He soaks, gets out, and wraps a towel around his waist before heading back into the bedroom. His steps are hesitant, and he looks apprehensive. Not for the reasons one might think, though.

He scoots across the room and carefully sits down on the bed, expression twitching from how sore he is (he's trying to hide it). ] Party. [ It's okay, he can do this right, now. ]

I brought you water. [He rasps, bowing over his own glass.]

[ He slides closer, wrapping his fingers around Party's, around the glass. ] Thank you. [ Brad tells him softly, kissing the side of his head. ] I know you didn't mean to.

[Sighing, he turns his head to catch Brad's lips loosely.] I didn't mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you, Brad! This was supposed to be perfect...

[ Brad allows it, presses a little more firmly. ] I know, and -- and it can be, I know you'd never -- [ He stops himself, taking the glass out of Party's hands and putting it on the bedside table. Wrapping his arm around Party, he continues: ] It's not like we haven't, you know, done rough stuff before, I just... wasn't expecting that.

[ He shifts, and rests his head on Party's shoulder, closing his eyes. ] I kind of hurt all the fuck over, though.

[His arms loop around Brad's waist, and his hands run up and down his back.] What do you need? Do you want painkillers? Do you want--I can massage you, if you want.

Are you angry?

[ He maybe holds Party a little more tightly than usual. ] Yeah -- maybe the painkillers, uhm. I mostly... just want to lay down.

[ A beat, and he gnaws at his lip, burying his face in Party's neck. Be honest. ] ... Maybe just a little. [ It's going to be a while until he trusts Party with sex again. ]

[Ow, ow.] Are you afraid?

[ He shakes his head. Afraid isn't -- the right word. ] Not... not afraid. Just... wary.

[A swallow. That's warranted. That more than warranted. He's lucky to be here, like this, now. He considers saying this, but he doesn't want it to be a weapon or someway to protect himself--but he means it, so he uses it.] I love you. I'm so sorry, you know I love you...I should...I should go back to the shrink.

[ He scrunches a little closer when he hears that. ] I love you too, and you know I do. [ Shaky little breath. ] That - might be a good idea? Do whatever you need to. I'd just -- like... I don't know why you were so pissed but.

[ And now he sniffs, just feeling worn the fuck out in every way possible. ]

It wasn't even you! [Fingers thread through Brad's hair, comb again and again through as Party explains to the wall.] Brad, it wasn't you, it's want your--I s--

I saw someone from before. From the Zones, I mean. On the train, and I just...went back.

[ Oh. Well, that makes sense, at least -- and it makes Brad feel better to know that he didn't do something wrong. He can't tell sometimes.

Brad sniffs again, shivering at the touch in his hair, oversensitive. ] I'm, uhm. I'm glad it wasn't... something I did. [ Like how he thought. He reaches, takes one of Party's hands. ] I wish you -- you would talk to me. About that stuff, and not.

[ Deep breath. Mumbles: ] I know it's tough. I won't say I know how tough it is, because I don't, but I need to be able to trust you. That's how it works. [ Another sniff, and his voice cracks a little. ] I don't know what kind of stuff is going to set you off, and that -- that's what I'm afraid of.

Bradley Keaton | Original Character

4/6/7 i'm sorry

good good yes

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