Fic : Cusnuddling (Pinto, R)
Title : Cusnuddling or How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love Myself Part One
Author : takhallus
Pairing : Pinto
Rating : R for allusions
Word Count : 5668 total
Notes : for medea_fic who won me in Help Pakistan and asked for cuddling
I’d been playing Farmville on a Friday night, and that in itself was just sad. Until ten I’d been out for drinks with friends from work when one had started to letch on me, trying drunkenly to run through his pick up tips from The Game, asking me what kind of guys I liked and implying that I was up for something ‘casual’.
And that’s the whole problem.
I’ve googled it, but it’s not really a kink, that’s what people say. It’s not written in stone, and it’s not like there’s a Grand Council of Kink that I can go to for advice, but the general consensus says that what I like, isn’t a kink at all. Maybe some people would be relieved to find out that their strongest yearnings are not out of the ordinary but that just places me in sexual limbo. If I was into cowboys or being walked on, or tied up, or flogged, it would be no problem. There would be websites, specialist pornos, possibly even a fun acronym that I could use on Craig’s List.
Cuddling is a kink. Sure it is, there are groups for that. But what I like isn’t cuddling, it’s more than that. It’s not even snuggling per se. It’s deep,deep, loving affection which might include allowing me to sob uncontrollably or just leave little kisses along the length of a guy’s jaw as we let the heat grow between our bodies and never take it further. It might include having my face buried in some guy’s hair, breathing in the smell of his shampoo, and it certainly might include whispers and hums of contentedness. I call it Cusnuddling. And it’s just not the same with Charles.
Charles is a stuffed rabbit, about two feet long, with one ear. That is what I cusnuddle. I’m thirty years old, but I can’t really sleep properly lately unless I’m cuddling a greying, lumpy rabbit I’ve had since I was nine. And it was when I absent mindedly pulled the bed covers over Charles so he wouldn’t get cold, that I realised I had a fucking problem.
Which brings us to the present day, and the sinking feeling in my stomach as I hear the words I have been waiting for for the last eight months.
“I found somebody”.
My friend, Kayla, works with ex-prostitutes. She’s a real hero, giving back to her fellow man and working with those whom society considers at the bottom rung. So of course I got drunk and begged her to help me find someone who would satisfy my Not A Kink.
“Please Kayla, I tried just hiring some guy but it was weird, it wasn’t how I expected.” I’d whined at her after probably eight or nine beers, two cocktails and three shooters.
“Chris we’re meant to be helping these people get back into society, I’m not a pimp!”
“But wouldn’t this be like a perfect bridge between prostitution and like...massage therapy or something? I don’t want it to get sexual, okay? I just want a normal guy who will cusnuddle with me.”
“Good God, Chris, you need help, seriously.”
So that had been the conversation, which I had backed up with an email the following day when I was relatively sober. Since then I’d asked on average once a week, and Kayla, to her credit, hadn’t yet dumped me as an awful friend.
And here she was, repeating the words I longed to hear. “Chris? Did you hear me? I found somebody. But he has ground rules.”
“Any - anything!” I knew I gurgled that, I was trying to keep hold of the phone as my palms started to sweat.
“He wants to meet you, and talk about this in depth. He’s a PhD student and yes, an ex-rent boy. So this is a big deal for him. He doesn’t want money, just expenses for his travel and anything he has to buy to make this work. And he needs you to allow him to write this up as a research paper.”
A research paper? I faltered for a sec. “Does he think I’m crazy? I don’t want it to be clinical, that’s totally not the point. I need - “
“Chris! You need to talk to him about this, okay? I don’t wanna know the details. I gave him your email, he’ll be in touch.”
And with that she hung up.
I’d immediately turned on my laptop, called his sister and cancelled our lunch date and then called for takeout. I was absolutely not leaving the house until this guy emailed.
I watched two movies, had sweet and sour chicken and then gave up and had four beers. At a rough estimate I refreshed my email 43 times. Eventually, I looked down, and there it was. My heart started to pump and I yawned for no reason - it was like my body didn’t know what to do with itself.
Re : Kayla
hey. i’m free tomorrow around 5pm. i can come to your place and we can talk?
zachary quinto
I replied with some gibberish like “Yes, absolutely fine, thank you” and added my address and my number. It only took me three tries to get my hands to stop shaking long enough to press send. After that I was so wired that sleep seemed a ridiculous notion so I played on the Wii for two hours, took a shower, and went for a walk around the block at 3am, encountering a possible drug deal and getting checked out by a guy who then talked to his hand about my ass. I headed back in case Zach came over to find my head stuffed in the mail box and watched four episodes of Firefly, finally dragging my sorry ass into bed at 6.30am. For the first night in over a year, Charles lay un-cusnuddled at the foot of the bed and I drifted off to sleep without him.
And awoke somewhere near 4.30pm.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck”. There was so much crap in the living room that I looked like I’d squatted in my own house. I wanted Zach to think I was normal, tidy, houseproud. A tidy house equals a tidy mind, right? Well if my place was anything to go by I was fucked. I stuffed the takeout and beer bottles in the trash first so I didn’t look like a shut in and then made a start on covering shit up with throw rugs.
At 6.15 pm Zachary still hadn’t arrived.
I thought about emailing, thought about calling my network just to make sure I hadn’t received some message that had been deleted accidentally. That happens, right? Just as I was about to call Kayla and ask if this had all been some kind of sick practical joke, the doorbell rang.
After all that waiting I still wasn’t ready to see him and entertain the fact that he might reject me. I took a deep breath and smiled, and opened the door to find a shamefaced and stunningly handsome man, wearing a beanie and a thick padded vest. His features were so strong they looked like they’d been carved there. Everything about him was so... tangible. He seemed to take up so much space, be so masculine, and big. It felt like if he were missing from the world then it would just leak air and go flat like a two day old party balloon. I must have been staring, because it was left to Zachary to invite himself in. I babbled an apology and ushered him inside, wiping my sweaty hands off on my jeans.
“I’m sorry I’m late, I don’t have an excuse, I just lost track of time.” He turned and held out his hand. “I’m Zach, pleased to meet you.”
“Christopher.” What? “I mean Chris, Chris, please call me Chris. Would you like some tea?”
“Sure, what kind do you have?” Zach made himself comfy on the couch, sitting on the wii remote and looking at it as if it were a dildo he’d just found in a doctor’s office.
“Uh it’s...black tea.” I had to read from the carton and felt like I’d just offered him a cup of twigs and berries. Zach probably had fifteen types of tea in his house. Asian teas. Was all tea Asian? My hands were sweating again.
“Sure, just black, thanks.” Zach was glancing around and I wondered whether he had already decided not to do this. I prepared the tea and carried it through, having a quick glance at what would be in Zach’s eyeline. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles lunchbox I’d used as a kid. I’d thought it would be cute and ironic to put my old lunchbox up on the bookshelf. Now I was just dying inside.
“I like your place, it’s very...It feels like your place.” Zach took his tea and looked around again. “So Kayla filled me in on what you were after...”
I filled the pause by sitting next to Zach on the couch. “Yeah, she might not have really understood what I - need.”
Zach put down his tea after a cursory glance for a non-existent coaster. “Cuddle therapy isn’t unheard of you know, it’s often used on premature babies who have been touched less because they’ve started their lives in incubators. It’s not really scientific, but there are physiological and psychological reasons why a human being might need to be touched and why it might be therapeutic. Or is this just a sexual thing for you?”
I gulped, my words rushing out. “No! I just - I love affection, I guess. I like to touch people, shake their hands, hug them, have my hand on their leg. I like them to touch me back, it’s reassuring, and it makes me feel wanted and loved. But - “ I paused, trying to think of a way to put the problem. “I guess I need more. I need to hug for longer, I need to have my skin against skin for longer. My ex called me clingy.”
“Did that hurt you?”
“Yeah! I - “ I stopped myself at this point. “Is this what you need me to do? So it isn’t weird? You need me to talk about it?”
“Maybe. Do you mind talking about it?”
“I don’t know you that well.” I twisted my shirt in my hands, which is what I do when I’m nervous. The last guy I’d ‘hired’ hadn’t asked questions. In fact he had looked bored and distant throughout. And that was why it hadn’t worked. I decided to take the plunge. “Okay, what do you need to ask?”
Zachary titled his head. “How about this, we can start off slowly, and every time you answer a question, I’ll touch you.”
I think I nodded a little too eagerly because he laughed, and again, dying inside.
“Okay, how long has it been since your ex became an ex.”
I felt tears pricking behind my eyes and thought to myself Already? Crying already? You whiny bitch.
“What did you call yourself?”
“Wh - what? Nothing!” Oh fuck. “I didn’t say anything. Did I?”
“You said “Crying already, you whiny bitch”.”
I was dumbstruck, I had been completely sure that that inner monologue was inner, I may as well have worn a tshirt saying ‘Fuck Up’. “No, I - I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s alright.” Zach moved closer, put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed my leg with his free hand. “It’s alright.”
I popped one, not gonna lie, but I was also shocked to see a tear fall on his leg and I rushed to dry my eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” The more I fought to dry my tears the more my body became wracked with sobs.
Zach shushed me, his big arms solid around my body.He was warm and I could smell the soap he used. I wanted to melt into him. He asked me if I needed to be alone and I gasped out another apology, trying to get him to stay. I had to show him that I could do this like an adult, not a weepy little princess.
“Don’t apologise, it’s fine. This obviously runs deep for you, I was worried it was just a sexual thing, a fetish, but it’s something you really need isn’t it?”
I nodded, not daring to speak in case I started blubbing again.
“Okay. I need to go away and think about how this could work, and whether it would be...ethical.”
“Ethical?” I wiped my hand across my still wet cheek and my heart started to pump as he looked ready to bolt.
“I’m not a counsellor or a therapist, but I might be able to consolidate your clear needs with my area of study. I would have to write a proposal which you would have to agree on before we could even think about beginning.”
I nodded sadly, trying to plaster a fake smile on. I knew this wasn’t going to happen. I knew I was too crazy, too needy for this to work. I felt Zach squeeze my shoulder and stand to leave. I forced out a conciliatory goodbye. “Thank you for coming over Zach, I appreciate your time. I’m sorry about what happened.”
Zach smiled kindly and put his hand out for me to shake. “I’ll be in touch.”
The front door closed and I crumbled. I went to my room and closed the door, drew the curtains not caring if Zach saw me from the street. I curled up under my duvet and sobbed until I pulled a muscle in my chest and had to stand up and walk around to get rid of it. I had a drink of water and then went back to bed. I slept a full twelve hours.
******
It was a week before I heard anything. Not that I expected to hear anything at all. I thought there would be a telling silence from Zach, and from Kayla. The embarrassment burned inside of me every time I replayed his mini breakdown in my head. I thought about trying another rent boy but that idea quickly left me. I moped around, feeling sorry for myself and randomly sobbing and Charles made his way back into my arms almost immediately. I was so down that I barely even checked my phone or email, which caused me to miss three calls from Zach.
“Zach! It’s Chris Pine, I’m so sorry I missed your calls, are you okay?” I bounced on my heels, instantly forgetting my sadness. Zach wanted to work with me! Zach didn’t think I was crazy! Zach had a two page agreement which he insisted I sign but that was all okay, because he was coming back.
A day later I replaced the Turtles lunchbox with some Vonnegut and Sartre and I opened the door to Zach knowing that I had three types of tea in my kitchen. I wanted to show Zach that I was normal, as much as I possibly could while I was having some kind of bespoke cuddle therapy from a former prostitute. I ushered Zach inside and shrugged nonchalantly at his request for Assam. I had Assam.
“So...” Zach said. “Did you manage to read over the proposal? Is there anything you’re not happy with?”
“It’s fine, it’s perfect, I signed.” I brandished the paperwork and sat next to Zach on the couch. “I’m really grateful that you gave me a second chance.”
“Not at all, I think it can work, with the therapy you agreed to?”
Ah, the therapy. I had signed up with a nice lady called Caroline who was getting me to focus on solution based thinking and not moving her sharp objects when I entered the room. I nodded fervently. “I started last week, it’s been really helpful.”
“Great, I brought something...” Zach dug into his rucksack and produced...
“Lotion?”
Zach held his hands palms up. “Give me your hands Chris, this is how we’re going to start.”
Lotion is used for fucking. I knew that when I gingerly held out my hands and felt them enveloped in heat and cold at once as Zach started to work the lotion into my skin. I felt firm thumbs pressing into the heel of my hand and easing up my fingers, pulling them slowly from knuckle to nail. It was bliss. I leaned into the couch, relaxing instantly as Zach caressed me.
“I’ve done this with people before, it’s a nice way to ease in. Tell me how you feel.”
I took a breath, and tried not to say ‘hard’, concentrating on the pressure of Zach’s strong hands. “I feel...comforted, like you forgive me for the other day, I feel affection. Is that what I’m supposed to feel?”
Zach chuckled at that. “You’re not supposed to feel anything, anything you feel is valid. You’re right by the way, I’m trying to comfort you, and I do forgive you, if that’s what you want. I don’t think there’s anything to forgive. Is affection important? We’ve only met twice.”
“Yes.” I jumped in then started to feel my cheeks redden. “I mean...it doesn’t matter how many times we’ve met, it seems like I need affection from everyone, as soon as I can get it. It’s only since I met...” I know I stopped myself too late and sighed heavily as I saw Zach’s eyebrows raise.
Zach massaged my palms gently. “What was his name?”
“Dylan.”
“And he was the first what?”
“Huh?”
“Finish this sentence -’For me, Dylan was the first.....’”
I smiled, okay, so this guy was turning out to be as smart as I’d hoped. “Dylan was the first really good looking guy to show an interest in me.”
“Bullshit!” Zach laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry, - that wasn’t very professional. But that can’t be true.”
I grinned. “It is so true! You should have seen him, man, he was so perfect. He was like a model, like a Disney model, like they based Disney princes on him and then uglied them up a little to make them more realistic. I met him at a book store, and he asked me out. I’d never been asked out like that, in public, in the daytime, like in movies.”
“Chris, unless you recently had a face transplant I am finding all of this very hard to believe.” Zach squeezed some more lotion and continued his ministrations while I tried to forget that he wasn’t flirting with me.
“I had bad hair and acne when I was younger. Plus I wasn’t cool, I was a nerd, I did really well in school and I was terrible at sports, no co-ordination. I wasn’t out but I didn’t wanna pretend with girls so I was pretty much a loner until college, where I discovered pot. Maybe I grew into my looks or something,” I shrugged, “but they say confidence takes you a long way and I had zero. So when he asked me out of course I said yes, and every time I had doubts about our relationship I told myself it was my fault, because someone so perfect, who could have anyone he wanted, would never do anything wrong.”
“You seem to have a lot of this figured out. But you did pretty much break down the other day when you started to talk about him.” Zach turned up my palm and squeezed lotion onto it before holding out his hands. “Your turn...”
I hesitantly started to rub the lotion into Zach’s hands in an approximation of his movements.”I guess it’s still a little raw. It was only after I started to go over it in my head that I realised how frustrated he’d been with me. He used to snap at me, shrug me off. And when he needed space I wouldn’t give it to him, I’d cling and try to touch him and he’d push me away, and so I needed him to touch me more.”
“Chris...”
I met Zach’s eyes and saw concern there, and it was only then I realised that there were tears rolling down my face. “Oh my God, again? I’m so so sorry.” I tried to move my hands to wipe away his tears and found them held where they were.
“No, you have to cry, come here.” Zach beckoned me into his arms and I gladly went. I broke on his shoulder, sobbed hard into Zach and gasped for air as my need for release overtook my need to breathe. Zach’s hands were solid and comforting on my lower back and my shoulder and he repeated “It’s okay, it’s alright” into my ear like a mantra. The smell of his fabric softener, the feel of his soft sweater on my cheek and the tiny sounds in his throat removed every barrier between us and maybe it was artificial but I didn’t care. I started to calm down, trying to match the speed of my breaths to his and whimpering as another sob threatened to escape. He shushed me again gently, and rubbed his soft lips against my cheek.
----
I got another hit of the scent of fabric softener and leaned into it. I was warm and comfy and... yeah that wasn’t right. I blinked and sat up, my eyes meeting Zach’s. “Shit.”
Zach grinned. “Welcome back, sleepy. How do you feel?” He put down the book that had previously been on the coffee table and rubbed my back, making me arch into his touch like a pampered cat.
“I feel....” Embarrassed? Mortified? “I feel amazing.” And I did. I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Zach had pulled a blanket around us at some point and aside from some pretty epic pillow creases from Zach’s shirt, I felt like a million bucks.
Zach smiled again. “You get it all out? The tears?”
“Yeah, yeah I feel better. And I’m - “ As if on cue, my stomach rumbled.
“Yeah, me too. I have an idea.” Zach picked up his phone and wandered off and I took the time to stretch and take some deep breaths. I really did feel much better. Zach re-entered and the room and landed back heavily on the couch. “I ordered in, all Asian finger food, Chinese and Japanese. You like?”
“Sure. That was your big idea?”
“Finger food, and we’re going to feed each other. It involves trust,and being comfortable with one another, and I think it might be a nice step towards increased intimacy.”
My eyebrows jumped up like I was in some screwy sex comedy and Zach waved my reaction away. “Not, sexual intimacy. I haven’t quite thought about that yet, but physical closeness.”
Haven’t though about that yet. My stomach did a flippy thing. OK I had a huge crush on him. He was gorgeous, he was smart and he knew about the cuddle thing and was even helping me with it. If I’d have designed him and had him shipped he couldn’t have been more perfect.
Just over half an hour later, there was an array of sushi and appetisers on the coffee table. Some of it I couldn’t identify but I would pretty much eat anything, probably dog food if it was Zach feeding it to me, so I waited with anticipation for Zach to lay out all the dishes.
“Okay, this is just prawn toast. Open up.” Zach pushed the small crispy triangle towards my lips and held a hand under my chin to catch the falling sesame seeds. I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out a little trying to pull the morsel in. The tip of my tongue accidentally brushed Zach’s finger and he giggled but didn’t flinch.
“Sorry”. I said around my mouthful of toast , proffering some towards Zach. He let me push the toast right into his mouth before biting down on it, his eyes rolling as he chewed.
“Mmm, I love this stuff, let’s see, what next?” He picked up a piece of deep fried chicken and dipped it in the lemon sauce. I hungrily accepted it but a dribble of lemon escaped my stupefied lips and Zach caught it with his finger, letting me suck it off. Little Chris became rather tumescent and I was a little disappointed when Zach managed to get his chicken eaten with no mess. I found himself dunking the food in too much sauce on purpose but Zach was a real pro at this, his lips seemingly dexterous as he teased me by quickly licking any scrap of sauce which escaped.
“You’re getting the hang of this, does it count as intimacy for you?” Zach asked after a mouthful of edamame.
“Yeah, it’s actually quite..sensual.”
“No kidding, you’ve been hard as a rock for about ten minutes.”
OH MY GOD. My face turned crimson as Zach laughed. “It’s okay, that’s totally normal, especially with someone who likes affection as much as you, these actions are almost worshipful.” Zach tilted his head at his own comment. “Hmm, I maybe have another idea.”
“I’m not a megalomaniac or anything, I mean, I don’t think I deserve to be worshipped, I just want a hug sometimes!” I felt like I was protesting too much as Zach laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“I’m not saying you need to be worshipped, but I really think it would help your confidence to be pampered a little. How often do you have a massage, for instance?”
Erm, every time I wake up as a woman? “How about, never?”
Zach looked at me like I’d just said I slept on a bed of straw. “Seriously? Well we’ll have to remedy that. Next session get ready to feel the magic of these hands. And no happy ending by the way, that was the old Zach.” He winked at me and went back to selecting the next mini-meal, not realising how disappointed I was currently feeling.
---
Part 2
Author : takhallus
Pairing : Pinto
Rating : R for allusions
Word Count : 5668 total
Notes : for medea_fic who won me in Help Pakistan and asked for cuddling
I’d been playing Farmville on a Friday night, and that in itself was just sad. Until ten I’d been out for drinks with friends from work when one had started to letch on me, trying drunkenly to run through his pick up tips from The Game, asking me what kind of guys I liked and implying that I was up for something ‘casual’.
And that’s the whole problem.
I’ve googled it, but it’s not really a kink, that’s what people say. It’s not written in stone, and it’s not like there’s a Grand Council of Kink that I can go to for advice, but the general consensus says that what I like, isn’t a kink at all. Maybe some people would be relieved to find out that their strongest yearnings are not out of the ordinary but that just places me in sexual limbo. If I was into cowboys or being walked on, or tied up, or flogged, it would be no problem. There would be websites, specialist pornos, possibly even a fun acronym that I could use on Craig’s List.
Cuddling is a kink. Sure it is, there are groups for that. But what I like isn’t cuddling, it’s more than that. It’s not even snuggling per se. It’s deep,deep, loving affection which might include allowing me to sob uncontrollably or just leave little kisses along the length of a guy’s jaw as we let the heat grow between our bodies and never take it further. It might include having my face buried in some guy’s hair, breathing in the smell of his shampoo, and it certainly might include whispers and hums of contentedness. I call it Cusnuddling. And it’s just not the same with Charles.
Charles is a stuffed rabbit, about two feet long, with one ear. That is what I cusnuddle. I’m thirty years old, but I can’t really sleep properly lately unless I’m cuddling a greying, lumpy rabbit I’ve had since I was nine. And it was when I absent mindedly pulled the bed covers over Charles so he wouldn’t get cold, that I realised I had a fucking problem.
Which brings us to the present day, and the sinking feeling in my stomach as I hear the words I have been waiting for for the last eight months.
“I found somebody”.
My friend, Kayla, works with ex-prostitutes. She’s a real hero, giving back to her fellow man and working with those whom society considers at the bottom rung. So of course I got drunk and begged her to help me find someone who would satisfy my Not A Kink.
“Please Kayla, I tried just hiring some guy but it was weird, it wasn’t how I expected.” I’d whined at her after probably eight or nine beers, two cocktails and three shooters.
“Chris we’re meant to be helping these people get back into society, I’m not a pimp!”
“But wouldn’t this be like a perfect bridge between prostitution and like...massage therapy or something? I don’t want it to get sexual, okay? I just want a normal guy who will cusnuddle with me.”
“Good God, Chris, you need help, seriously.”
So that had been the conversation, which I had backed up with an email the following day when I was relatively sober. Since then I’d asked on average once a week, and Kayla, to her credit, hadn’t yet dumped me as an awful friend.
And here she was, repeating the words I longed to hear. “Chris? Did you hear me? I found somebody. But he has ground rules.”
“Any - anything!” I knew I gurgled that, I was trying to keep hold of the phone as my palms started to sweat.
“He wants to meet you, and talk about this in depth. He’s a PhD student and yes, an ex-rent boy. So this is a big deal for him. He doesn’t want money, just expenses for his travel and anything he has to buy to make this work. And he needs you to allow him to write this up as a research paper.”
A research paper? I faltered for a sec. “Does he think I’m crazy? I don’t want it to be clinical, that’s totally not the point. I need - “
“Chris! You need to talk to him about this, okay? I don’t wanna know the details. I gave him your email, he’ll be in touch.”
And with that she hung up.
I’d immediately turned on my laptop, called his sister and cancelled our lunch date and then called for takeout. I was absolutely not leaving the house until this guy emailed.
I watched two movies, had sweet and sour chicken and then gave up and had four beers. At a rough estimate I refreshed my email 43 times. Eventually, I looked down, and there it was. My heart started to pump and I yawned for no reason - it was like my body didn’t know what to do with itself.
Re : Kayla
hey. i’m free tomorrow around 5pm. i can come to your place and we can talk?
zachary quinto
I replied with some gibberish like “Yes, absolutely fine, thank you” and added my address and my number. It only took me three tries to get my hands to stop shaking long enough to press send. After that I was so wired that sleep seemed a ridiculous notion so I played on the Wii for two hours, took a shower, and went for a walk around the block at 3am, encountering a possible drug deal and getting checked out by a guy who then talked to his hand about my ass. I headed back in case Zach came over to find my head stuffed in the mail box and watched four episodes of Firefly, finally dragging my sorry ass into bed at 6.30am. For the first night in over a year, Charles lay un-cusnuddled at the foot of the bed and I drifted off to sleep without him.
And awoke somewhere near 4.30pm.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck”. There was so much crap in the living room that I looked like I’d squatted in my own house. I wanted Zach to think I was normal, tidy, houseproud. A tidy house equals a tidy mind, right? Well if my place was anything to go by I was fucked. I stuffed the takeout and beer bottles in the trash first so I didn’t look like a shut in and then made a start on covering shit up with throw rugs.
At 6.15 pm Zachary still hadn’t arrived.
I thought about emailing, thought about calling my network just to make sure I hadn’t received some message that had been deleted accidentally. That happens, right? Just as I was about to call Kayla and ask if this had all been some kind of sick practical joke, the doorbell rang.
After all that waiting I still wasn’t ready to see him and entertain the fact that he might reject me. I took a deep breath and smiled, and opened the door to find a shamefaced and stunningly handsome man, wearing a beanie and a thick padded vest. His features were so strong they looked like they’d been carved there. Everything about him was so... tangible. He seemed to take up so much space, be so masculine, and big. It felt like if he were missing from the world then it would just leak air and go flat like a two day old party balloon. I must have been staring, because it was left to Zachary to invite himself in. I babbled an apology and ushered him inside, wiping my sweaty hands off on my jeans.
“I’m sorry I’m late, I don’t have an excuse, I just lost track of time.” He turned and held out his hand. “I’m Zach, pleased to meet you.”
“Christopher.” What? “I mean Chris, Chris, please call me Chris. Would you like some tea?”
“Sure, what kind do you have?” Zach made himself comfy on the couch, sitting on the wii remote and looking at it as if it were a dildo he’d just found in a doctor’s office.
“Uh it’s...black tea.” I had to read from the carton and felt like I’d just offered him a cup of twigs and berries. Zach probably had fifteen types of tea in his house. Asian teas. Was all tea Asian? My hands were sweating again.
“Sure, just black, thanks.” Zach was glancing around and I wondered whether he had already decided not to do this. I prepared the tea and carried it through, having a quick glance at what would be in Zach’s eyeline. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles lunchbox I’d used as a kid. I’d thought it would be cute and ironic to put my old lunchbox up on the bookshelf. Now I was just dying inside.
“I like your place, it’s very...It feels like your place.” Zach took his tea and looked around again. “So Kayla filled me in on what you were after...”
I filled the pause by sitting next to Zach on the couch. “Yeah, she might not have really understood what I - need.”
Zach put down his tea after a cursory glance for a non-existent coaster. “Cuddle therapy isn’t unheard of you know, it’s often used on premature babies who have been touched less because they’ve started their lives in incubators. It’s not really scientific, but there are physiological and psychological reasons why a human being might need to be touched and why it might be therapeutic. Or is this just a sexual thing for you?”
I gulped, my words rushing out. “No! I just - I love affection, I guess. I like to touch people, shake their hands, hug them, have my hand on their leg. I like them to touch me back, it’s reassuring, and it makes me feel wanted and loved. But - “ I paused, trying to think of a way to put the problem. “I guess I need more. I need to hug for longer, I need to have my skin against skin for longer. My ex called me clingy.”
“Did that hurt you?”
“Yeah! I - “ I stopped myself at this point. “Is this what you need me to do? So it isn’t weird? You need me to talk about it?”
“Maybe. Do you mind talking about it?”
“I don’t know you that well.” I twisted my shirt in my hands, which is what I do when I’m nervous. The last guy I’d ‘hired’ hadn’t asked questions. In fact he had looked bored and distant throughout. And that was why it hadn’t worked. I decided to take the plunge. “Okay, what do you need to ask?”
Zachary titled his head. “How about this, we can start off slowly, and every time you answer a question, I’ll touch you.”
I think I nodded a little too eagerly because he laughed, and again, dying inside.
“Okay, how long has it been since your ex became an ex.”
I felt tears pricking behind my eyes and thought to myself Already? Crying already? You whiny bitch.
“What did you call yourself?”
“Wh - what? Nothing!” Oh fuck. “I didn’t say anything. Did I?”
“You said “Crying already, you whiny bitch”.”
I was dumbstruck, I had been completely sure that that inner monologue was inner, I may as well have worn a tshirt saying ‘Fuck Up’. “No, I - I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s alright.” Zach moved closer, put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed my leg with his free hand. “It’s alright.”
I popped one, not gonna lie, but I was also shocked to see a tear fall on his leg and I rushed to dry my eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” The more I fought to dry my tears the more my body became wracked with sobs.
Zach shushed me, his big arms solid around my body.He was warm and I could smell the soap he used. I wanted to melt into him. He asked me if I needed to be alone and I gasped out another apology, trying to get him to stay. I had to show him that I could do this like an adult, not a weepy little princess.
“Don’t apologise, it’s fine. This obviously runs deep for you, I was worried it was just a sexual thing, a fetish, but it’s something you really need isn’t it?”
I nodded, not daring to speak in case I started blubbing again.
“Okay. I need to go away and think about how this could work, and whether it would be...ethical.”
“Ethical?” I wiped my hand across my still wet cheek and my heart started to pump as he looked ready to bolt.
“I’m not a counsellor or a therapist, but I might be able to consolidate your clear needs with my area of study. I would have to write a proposal which you would have to agree on before we could even think about beginning.”
I nodded sadly, trying to plaster a fake smile on. I knew this wasn’t going to happen. I knew I was too crazy, too needy for this to work. I felt Zach squeeze my shoulder and stand to leave. I forced out a conciliatory goodbye. “Thank you for coming over Zach, I appreciate your time. I’m sorry about what happened.”
Zach smiled kindly and put his hand out for me to shake. “I’ll be in touch.”
The front door closed and I crumbled. I went to my room and closed the door, drew the curtains not caring if Zach saw me from the street. I curled up under my duvet and sobbed until I pulled a muscle in my chest and had to stand up and walk around to get rid of it. I had a drink of water and then went back to bed. I slept a full twelve hours.
******
It was a week before I heard anything. Not that I expected to hear anything at all. I thought there would be a telling silence from Zach, and from Kayla. The embarrassment burned inside of me every time I replayed his mini breakdown in my head. I thought about trying another rent boy but that idea quickly left me. I moped around, feeling sorry for myself and randomly sobbing and Charles made his way back into my arms almost immediately. I was so down that I barely even checked my phone or email, which caused me to miss three calls from Zach.
“Zach! It’s Chris Pine, I’m so sorry I missed your calls, are you okay?” I bounced on my heels, instantly forgetting my sadness. Zach wanted to work with me! Zach didn’t think I was crazy! Zach had a two page agreement which he insisted I sign but that was all okay, because he was coming back.
A day later I replaced the Turtles lunchbox with some Vonnegut and Sartre and I opened the door to Zach knowing that I had three types of tea in my kitchen. I wanted to show Zach that I was normal, as much as I possibly could while I was having some kind of bespoke cuddle therapy from a former prostitute. I ushered Zach inside and shrugged nonchalantly at his request for Assam. I had Assam.
“So...” Zach said. “Did you manage to read over the proposal? Is there anything you’re not happy with?”
“It’s fine, it’s perfect, I signed.” I brandished the paperwork and sat next to Zach on the couch. “I’m really grateful that you gave me a second chance.”
“Not at all, I think it can work, with the therapy you agreed to?”
Ah, the therapy. I had signed up with a nice lady called Caroline who was getting me to focus on solution based thinking and not moving her sharp objects when I entered the room. I nodded fervently. “I started last week, it’s been really helpful.”
“Great, I brought something...” Zach dug into his rucksack and produced...
“Lotion?”
Zach held his hands palms up. “Give me your hands Chris, this is how we’re going to start.”
Lotion is used for fucking. I knew that when I gingerly held out my hands and felt them enveloped in heat and cold at once as Zach started to work the lotion into my skin. I felt firm thumbs pressing into the heel of my hand and easing up my fingers, pulling them slowly from knuckle to nail. It was bliss. I leaned into the couch, relaxing instantly as Zach caressed me.
“I’ve done this with people before, it’s a nice way to ease in. Tell me how you feel.”
I took a breath, and tried not to say ‘hard’, concentrating on the pressure of Zach’s strong hands. “I feel...comforted, like you forgive me for the other day, I feel affection. Is that what I’m supposed to feel?”
Zach chuckled at that. “You’re not supposed to feel anything, anything you feel is valid. You’re right by the way, I’m trying to comfort you, and I do forgive you, if that’s what you want. I don’t think there’s anything to forgive. Is affection important? We’ve only met twice.”
“Yes.” I jumped in then started to feel my cheeks redden. “I mean...it doesn’t matter how many times we’ve met, it seems like I need affection from everyone, as soon as I can get it. It’s only since I met...” I know I stopped myself too late and sighed heavily as I saw Zach’s eyebrows raise.
Zach massaged my palms gently. “What was his name?”
“Dylan.”
“And he was the first what?”
“Huh?”
“Finish this sentence -’For me, Dylan was the first.....’”
I smiled, okay, so this guy was turning out to be as smart as I’d hoped. “Dylan was the first really good looking guy to show an interest in me.”
“Bullshit!” Zach laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry, - that wasn’t very professional. But that can’t be true.”
I grinned. “It is so true! You should have seen him, man, he was so perfect. He was like a model, like a Disney model, like they based Disney princes on him and then uglied them up a little to make them more realistic. I met him at a book store, and he asked me out. I’d never been asked out like that, in public, in the daytime, like in movies.”
“Chris, unless you recently had a face transplant I am finding all of this very hard to believe.” Zach squeezed some more lotion and continued his ministrations while I tried to forget that he wasn’t flirting with me.
“I had bad hair and acne when I was younger. Plus I wasn’t cool, I was a nerd, I did really well in school and I was terrible at sports, no co-ordination. I wasn’t out but I didn’t wanna pretend with girls so I was pretty much a loner until college, where I discovered pot. Maybe I grew into my looks or something,” I shrugged, “but they say confidence takes you a long way and I had zero. So when he asked me out of course I said yes, and every time I had doubts about our relationship I told myself it was my fault, because someone so perfect, who could have anyone he wanted, would never do anything wrong.”
“You seem to have a lot of this figured out. But you did pretty much break down the other day when you started to talk about him.” Zach turned up my palm and squeezed lotion onto it before holding out his hands. “Your turn...”
I hesitantly started to rub the lotion into Zach’s hands in an approximation of his movements.”I guess it’s still a little raw. It was only after I started to go over it in my head that I realised how frustrated he’d been with me. He used to snap at me, shrug me off. And when he needed space I wouldn’t give it to him, I’d cling and try to touch him and he’d push me away, and so I needed him to touch me more.”
“Chris...”
I met Zach’s eyes and saw concern there, and it was only then I realised that there were tears rolling down my face. “Oh my God, again? I’m so so sorry.” I tried to move my hands to wipe away his tears and found them held where they were.
“No, you have to cry, come here.” Zach beckoned me into his arms and I gladly went. I broke on his shoulder, sobbed hard into Zach and gasped for air as my need for release overtook my need to breathe. Zach’s hands were solid and comforting on my lower back and my shoulder and he repeated “It’s okay, it’s alright” into my ear like a mantra. The smell of his fabric softener, the feel of his soft sweater on my cheek and the tiny sounds in his throat removed every barrier between us and maybe it was artificial but I didn’t care. I started to calm down, trying to match the speed of my breaths to his and whimpering as another sob threatened to escape. He shushed me again gently, and rubbed his soft lips against my cheek.
----
I got another hit of the scent of fabric softener and leaned into it. I was warm and comfy and... yeah that wasn’t right. I blinked and sat up, my eyes meeting Zach’s. “Shit.”
Zach grinned. “Welcome back, sleepy. How do you feel?” He put down the book that had previously been on the coffee table and rubbed my back, making me arch into his touch like a pampered cat.
“I feel....” Embarrassed? Mortified? “I feel amazing.” And I did. I felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Zach had pulled a blanket around us at some point and aside from some pretty epic pillow creases from Zach’s shirt, I felt like a million bucks.
Zach smiled again. “You get it all out? The tears?”
“Yeah, yeah I feel better. And I’m - “ As if on cue, my stomach rumbled.
“Yeah, me too. I have an idea.” Zach picked up his phone and wandered off and I took the time to stretch and take some deep breaths. I really did feel much better. Zach re-entered and the room and landed back heavily on the couch. “I ordered in, all Asian finger food, Chinese and Japanese. You like?”
“Sure. That was your big idea?”
“Finger food, and we’re going to feed each other. It involves trust,and being comfortable with one another, and I think it might be a nice step towards increased intimacy.”
My eyebrows jumped up like I was in some screwy sex comedy and Zach waved my reaction away. “Not, sexual intimacy. I haven’t quite thought about that yet, but physical closeness.”
Haven’t though about that yet. My stomach did a flippy thing. OK I had a huge crush on him. He was gorgeous, he was smart and he knew about the cuddle thing and was even helping me with it. If I’d have designed him and had him shipped he couldn’t have been more perfect.
Just over half an hour later, there was an array of sushi and appetisers on the coffee table. Some of it I couldn’t identify but I would pretty much eat anything, probably dog food if it was Zach feeding it to me, so I waited with anticipation for Zach to lay out all the dishes.
“Okay, this is just prawn toast. Open up.” Zach pushed the small crispy triangle towards my lips and held a hand under my chin to catch the falling sesame seeds. I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out a little trying to pull the morsel in. The tip of my tongue accidentally brushed Zach’s finger and he giggled but didn’t flinch.
“Sorry”. I said around my mouthful of toast , proffering some towards Zach. He let me push the toast right into his mouth before biting down on it, his eyes rolling as he chewed.
“Mmm, I love this stuff, let’s see, what next?” He picked up a piece of deep fried chicken and dipped it in the lemon sauce. I hungrily accepted it but a dribble of lemon escaped my stupefied lips and Zach caught it with his finger, letting me suck it off. Little Chris became rather tumescent and I was a little disappointed when Zach managed to get his chicken eaten with no mess. I found himself dunking the food in too much sauce on purpose but Zach was a real pro at this, his lips seemingly dexterous as he teased me by quickly licking any scrap of sauce which escaped.
“You’re getting the hang of this, does it count as intimacy for you?” Zach asked after a mouthful of edamame.
“Yeah, it’s actually quite..sensual.”
“No kidding, you’ve been hard as a rock for about ten minutes.”
OH MY GOD. My face turned crimson as Zach laughed. “It’s okay, that’s totally normal, especially with someone who likes affection as much as you, these actions are almost worshipful.” Zach tilted his head at his own comment. “Hmm, I maybe have another idea.”
“I’m not a megalomaniac or anything, I mean, I don’t think I deserve to be worshipped, I just want a hug sometimes!” I felt like I was protesting too much as Zach laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
“I’m not saying you need to be worshipped, but I really think it would help your confidence to be pampered a little. How often do you have a massage, for instance?”
Erm, every time I wake up as a woman? “How about, never?”
Zach looked at me like I’d just said I slept on a bed of straw. “Seriously? Well we’ll have to remedy that. Next session get ready to feel the magic of these hands. And no happy ending by the way, that was the old Zach.” He winked at me and went back to selecting the next mini-meal, not realising how disappointed I was currently feeling.
---
Part 2