Snippets of an affair ~ Epilogue

[zahraowens]

Title: Snippets of an affair ~ Epilogue Author: zahra_owens Beta: The always amazing namarie120 Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 2633 Warnings: Mention of rape, also major fluff! And a POV we haven't heard of yet ... plus half way through the POV changes. Disclaimer: Persons and events described here may, on the surface, seem familiar, but I don't have a clue what I'm talking about. Author's note: The POV may change throughout the story, so the 'I' from this chapter may not be the 'I' from the previous chapter.

INDEX / PREVIOUS

To see them walk into my office after their extended vacation, all tanned and happy, is both a surprise and a fitting ending to our work together. You see, when I first saw them together, they were two lost and broken men and frankly I didn't think they would be able to make it work. What I didn't take into account, though, was the strength of their love for each other.

I've known the older one for a considerable number of years. I’ve watched him change from an objectively handsome, artsy type, to a more mature, well conserved and elegant man. He would book an appointment with me rather infrequently, whenever he felt he needed a sounding board. Living with a psychiatric patient, albeit well medicated at most times, was a challenge and we had an easy rapport, where I was mostly the one who guided him to the solutions he was already aware of. It seemed to help him greatly that for some things, I was his opposite, namely a straight female, but that on the other hand, I knew perfectly well what it was like to be in love with a man.

His visits intensified when he confessed about a one night stand, an affair he thought he'd never have. We talked about how he was a serial monogamist and didn't believe in cheating on his lover, not even when his relationship was hard to bear, but how the young man, who remained anonymous to me at the time, was irresistible for some reason. He confessed every single time he cheated on his lover and I listened, feeling no need to pass judgement. His feelings of guilt when his lover had to be forcibly taken into psychiatric care almost negated the elation he admitted at feeling when he realised that this new love was someone he had never dreamed of finding, a soul mate, a friend and a lover in one. I only heard his side of the story and feared for the longest time that he was idealising his lover, even after the young man moved in with him. He told me about the abusive pilot and how 'Angel', as he called him, had fled to his house one day, afraid of being hurt by the man more seriously than ever before.

It wasn't until my client arrived with some rather serious injuries of his own that I started to worry it was all getting out of hand. Thanks to our earlier bond of trust, he was able to tell me what had happened, in minute and often painful detail. Later came the emotional backlash; his feelings of inadequacy, the fear he would never be able to have sex again, especially not on the receiving end, and how the need for it returned much sooner than the courage to try again.

Since I felt much of his recovery depended on his lover, I asked him to bring him on his next visit. This is how I met the younger of the two.

'Angel', and I'll keep referring to him by his nickname, was an incredibly handsome and very charming young man, who hid his complex set of hang ups and weaknesses much better than his lover did; but then, as I later found out, he'd had more practice at it. A longtime sufferer of abuse, first mentally and emotionally by his family and then later physically and sexually by most of his more steady lovers, he'd found clever ways of disguising himself and at first glance he came across as open, slightly in your face and even flirty. It was all a facade, though, and one that took some time to pierce.

For a while I saw them separately, as I usually do when I counsel couples, but I couldn't make them show their true self, the walls they'd built up around themselves too strong for my talents. This changed when I asked to see them together. From the first time both of them were in my office, it was apparent the care and consideration they showed each other; how not only the older one took care of the younger, but also the other way around and how the younger man blossomed around his older lover. Our sessions were often very difficult and always emotionally draining for all three of us, but I knew we were making progress.

I have to admit I never saw the slaying of the pilot coming. When 'Love' arrived at my office to tell me what had happened, he was frantic. I know how much they had both suffered at the hands of this man, but his only concern was for his 'Angel'. Even though there was no doubt about what had transpired, I felt that I knew 'Angel' well enough to offer myself as a character witness to the Crown prosecutor. Luckily, the man listened to reason and the whole matter was deemed to be self-defence.

Although at first I wasn't sure about 'Love''s suggestion they needed to get away from it all, he persuaded me that now the one mortal fear in his life was no more, he was strong enough to support the two of them. Seeing them here now, it is clear that he was right.

This isn't really a therapy session. I just invited them over to sign some papers.

"So you're still okay with me using your story?" I ask them

They look at each other and I see twinkles in 'Angel''s eyes. They both nod.

"Under the circumstances we agreed upon. No names, no details that people could directly associate us with," 'Love' replies.

"Just our nicknames, Love. We said she could use those."

'Love' nods at 'Angel' and the way they look at each other makes me go all motherly and emotional. They're holding hands, never out of touch with each other in one way or another and I couldn't be happier for both of them.

"We have something else to ask you," 'Angel' continues. He looks at 'Love' and the older man squeezes his hand. "We're going to enter into a Civil Partnership and we'd like you to be there."

I'm thrilled to hear it. Nobody deserves this more than they do. I smile widely and get up to shake their hand to congratulate them. Before I know what's happening, I'm pulled into a three-way hug and I realise I'm crying. My kind of work rarely sees this type of happy ending.


So here I am, three weeks later, walking into the reception hall by myself and therefore a little lost. I don't know any of the other guests and I hope my husband will be here soon so at least I'll have someone to talk to. For now, I'll just be the wallflower, sipping my glass of champagne and weaving in and out of the crowd. It appears I'm not the only one who's curious where our two hosts are, as we haven't seen them since the ceremony, a good thirty minutes ago.

"So what did I miss?" my better half asks me when he finally arrives.

"Ceremony was nice. A bit like ours, actually. They do them very well for two guys too." I turn him my way to straighten his tie and I'm quite amused by the fact he still can't dress himself properly if it's anything more than a plaid shirt and jeans. As he puts his hand on the small of my back and turns a bit to grab a flute of champagne off a tray from a nearby waiter, I see the newlyweds appear from the back of the hall. They look radiant, but since I'm the type of person who takes cues off the little things, I notice their slightly rumpled clothes and flushed complexion and can't help remembering the guilty confessions of the older of the two.

"You look like the cat who just swallowed the canary," hubby whispers into my ear. I don't normally discuss my work at home, so he doesn't know anything more about these guys than that they are my ex-clients. I can't resist it, though. "I think they just consummated their marriage," I whisper back, just before the other guests start applauding. Hubby gives me an amused expression and chuckles before getting us another glass of champagne.

Since people are lining up to congratulate them, it takes us a while to get to shake their hands. I introduce my better half and instead of a handshake, 'Angel' pulls me into a hug, joined by 'Love'. For a moment I contemplate telling him I hope they spent their time well between the ceremony and the reception, but I don't want to embarrass them, so I simply wink.

*****

As we walk into the reception hall from the back, I'm slightly afraid everyone's going to know what we've been doing with our time before we entered. Champagne is flowing copiously though, so I can only hope that kept them occupied. We're greeted by many familiar faces. The chefs I still take the occasional picture for, the photo editors for National Geographic who did a great job with the stuff we sent them from Argentina and who have told us our next stop will be New Zealand's South Island, and even my ex, complete with new boyfriend. I'm glad he didn't bring his sister.

Everyone is happy to see us, but I can't stop looking at you. Our eyes meet every few seconds as we shake hands with our guests and even hug one or two and although I never thought it would make a difference, somehow it does. It's official now. We have the papers to prove we belong together. I know it's silly, but I couldn't be prouder that you and I are a couple, an item, husband and husband, for all eternity. It just dawns on me now that three years ago, I was settled in a life I didn't want, with a man I was no longer in love with, and now all of that has changed.

To celebrate our wedding - and yes, that's what we want to call it, despite the official name - we took some photos of ourselves, with the camera on the tripod and the self-timer set to take a picture every five seconds. The location was easy to choose. The men's room of this reception hall is not only beautiful, with its black marble surfaces and brass fittings, but also the place where we both realised this was going to turn into more than a one night stand, more than a quick fuck.

The first pictures will be the ones we'll show the friends and family. They're of us hugging and kissing and smiling contently in front of the large mirror, both of us dressed to the nines in tailored three piece suits with two roses in our lapels, one white and one red. The ones we won't show, the ones that were taken after that, will remain our own little secret.

I don't bother stopping the camera when I feel your arousal.

"Want me to fuck you here again?" you ask seductively.

I shake my head and immediately you look disappointed so I gently kiss you. "Why don't I make love to you, here in front of this mirror and then you'll know exactly why I fell in love with you."

You bite your lower lip. "I thought I won you over with my charm and wit?" you tease.

I don't answer. You know exactly why I love you. I've told you that you are the perfect combination of everything I like in a man. I turn you towards the mirror and caress your chest over your fine white shirt and underneath the vest. Your nipple peaks as I rub over it and as my other hand caresses down your stomach and cups your bulge, you lean your head back and moan. I can't help but smile as an almost silent click betrays the picture my state-of-the-art digital camera takes of us every five seconds. We separate only so I can help you out of your suit jacket and take mine off as well, hanging them neatly on the hook at the inside of the stall door behind us. You pull your shirt out of your trousers as I unzip you and free your already fully erect cock from the confines of your Calvin Kleins. You're already terribly aroused and urge me to 'get a move on'.

I like to tease you. "Patience, Angel,' but you'll have no such thing.

"I had to wank in the shower this morning because you didn't want to sleep with me last night," you growl as you rub your ass against my still-clothed arousal.

"I didn't think it was right to see you before the ceremony," I continue to tease, opening the packet of lube I fished out of the basket of goodies at the end of the row of washbasins when we were taking our jackets off.

"Wanker," you say, only half serious, looking down as I help you step out of your pants and underwear. I can't help kneeling to lick a bead of precome off you and you gasp, so I know your current state of arousal means you don't need a lot of preparation. I simply rub some lube over your entrance and lots more over my own erection before I get up and gently push into your body. I watch your reaction in the mirror, eyes closed and mouth slightly open as you adjust to the intrusion. You're leaning on your outstretched arms, so you're totally at my mercy, but then you start moving, fucking yourself on my cock.

"Open your eyes," I ask and when you do I almost lose it. The bliss on your face and the way you look at me while you keep moving your hips so I slide in and out of you makes so much blood rush to my cock, I feel light-headed. We're a perfect fit, always have been right from the very first time and I feel incredibly lucky. I wrap my arms around your chest and pull you closer so I can kiss your neck. You pull free just enough so you can twist your shoulders and kiss me. "Fuck!" you sigh more than speak. "After everyone leaves ... I want to do this to you again, here ... in front of the mirror."

I chuckle, which makes me lose my rhythm. "We're not done with this time yet."

"I know, so fuck me harder," you demand. I think you're going to touch yourself, but instead you brace against the marble counter again, so I increase the power of my thrusts, while holding your shirt tails up. Your cock juts up every time I push in and little drops of precome start to emerge from the slit until finally I feel you come around me. Seeing your release cover the black marble is enough to bring me close as well and while I thrust through your orgasm, a few short sharp bursts make me explode inside you.

We're both panting hard as I try to keep your hips close to mine, wanting to savour the feeling of being inside you as long as I can.

"We do look amazing in this mirror, Love," you say eventually.

I know we need to separate, wash up a bit and get dressed again. There are guests waiting for us outside.

"So do you really want to do this again later?" I ask as I take the disk out of the camera and put it in my vest pocket for safe keeping.

You nod. "But I think you should put it on video then."

THE END

Thank you to everyone who trusted me and stuck by me through this very difficult story!