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Leland had the shock of his life the first night in his new apartment. He had never lived alone before this. He had gone from his mother's house to living with Karen and eventually the kids. Sure, he had spent the occasional night alone in a hotel during marital turbulence, but he had spent the entire time missing home. But this? This was home now. He was home and alone. And he hated it more than words could say.
He wandered aimlessly through the rooms, searching for some kind of distraction. Should he get a dog or something? Just the thought depressed him even further.
"God." He thumped his back against a door jamb and slid to his bottom on the floor, praying.
Usually, he only talked to the Big Guy Upstairs while on the job; asking for help at a particularly gruesome crime scene, or whenever bullets started flying around--basically whenever he felt inadequate or in danger. Right now it was a little of both. It was like he had been torn clean in half, left to bleed out, and there was this awful chance that no one would be able to solve the case and put it right again.
I'm not built to live alone , he screamed in his own head. Somebody help me, please.
A knock on the front door startled him out of his miserable slump. He hastily wiped his face and straightened his clothes and hair before he opened it. He had been expecting a woman and so wasn't surprised at all by the sight of a sundress and golden hair.
"Hello," he said with his utmost charm. A second later, all the feminine details coalesced into a face he recognized. "Trudy?"
"Hi, Leland," she said, leaning in for her customary cheek kiss. Leland bumped his jaw against hers, scrambling for a toehold on the timeline here.
"What are you doing here? Is Monk ok?"
"You called me."
"I did?"
"Let's talk."
----
Leland woke up feeling unusually rested. He had a spring in his step on the way to work, and could only attribute it to the dream he'd had. What an odd manifestation of random synapses, to dream of Trudy Monk like that. He remembered it had all started off much like reality. Just wandering around, alone in his new condo, wishing life was different… and then she was there.
It was so weird looking back on it now. But it hadn't felt weird at the time. She had felt like a dear friend--when in reality she had been a polite acquaintance at best, the beloved wife of a quirky work friend.
Trudy had sat with him and talked and talked and talked. It felt like belonging, like basking in the light of loved ones. No bitterness, no resentment, no uncomfortable moments of disconnect and regret. Just friends, talking.
"Hey, Cap'n," Natalie greeted when she met him outside the precinct. "We're here for our latest check."
Nearby, Monk touched one post and then took two steps and touched another.
"Your check," Leland said, "Yeah, I have it on my desk. Come on in." He waved Natalie ahead of him and waited for Monk.
Seeing him made Leland smile in that way when you've been talking about someone and then there he is. In that bizzare dream, Trudy had talked with Leland about a lot of things, like Karen and the boys, but they had also spoken of Monk. At length.
In a way, it felt as if Adrian Monk had been just as present in that glowing light of friendship as Trudy had been.
When he was finally satisfied with his business pertaining to the posts, Monk turned and smiled brightly at Leland.
"You look happy!" Monk said as he fell into step with him.
Leland blinked, "I do?"
"Yes. Lately you've been operating closer to my level, but now you're smiling."
"Your level?"
"Of misery," Monk answered but with a lightness, almost a joke except for how it definitely was not one.
Leland clapped him on the back, reaching for office humor. "Apparently divorce agrees with me."
Monk made a face of disbelief, scoffing. "You've been married for as long as I've known you. Hard to think of you as being happy that you're single."
"Well, to be honest, Monk, I'm not exactly thrilled by the single part. But I'm happy to be free to take in the possibilities ." He didn't realize it but he was basically relating the conclusion he had reached from his discussion with Trudy. It was time to move on, let himself be happy.
"Possibilities," Monk parroted. "Like... dating?"
Leland snorted. "Yeah, like dating." He looked around and nudged Monk with his elbow. "Maybe we can be each other's wingmen sometime, hm?"
Adrian snorted, laughing nervously. "Oh, no. I couldn't. I'm married."
Leland had expected that answer all the way down to the way Adrian brandished his ring finger and the wedding band still there. He never meant to, but before he knew it, he said, "Hey, speaking of Trudy, she was in this dream I had last night."
Monk's expression broke into a smile like the sun over the horizon. "You dreamed of Trudy?"
Okay, that was one reaction a man might have when hearing that another man dreamed of his wife. But, really, why had Leland been afraid that Monk would be like other men? Adrian Monk was always thrilled to talk about Trudy.
"Yeah, it was strange," Leland admitted. "It felt like she was my best friend for years. She came over to help me unpack my new place, and we hung out. Totally random, right?"
Adrian chuckled. "Trudy loved making new spaces feel like a home. I'm not surprised she came around to give you decorating ideas."
"She asked about you," Leland said, remembering that detail strongly. She had definitely been the one to bring up Adrian.
This news made Monk blush and giggle , "She did? What did you say?"
Leland was amused. It felt like they were talking about a real encounter with a living person, not the random amalgamation of a sleeping brain building odd scenarios around the memory of a dead acquaintance. "I told her you're still crazy in love with her and catching bad guys."
Adrian snorted, "Did she hear the comma in that?"
"Comma?"
"I'm still crazy (comma) in love with her (comma) and catching bad guys."
Leland laughed, slapped him on the back. "There was no comma, Monk."
"There's always a comma," Monk said.
----
"No," Leland said flat out. He was at his shitty, way too small dining room table. He had a beer in one hand and a cigar in the other. He was relaxed, basking in the glow of his friend who had come around for another visit. But she was being impossible right now. She was being nosey and pushy and way too inappropriate.
" Don't 'no' me!" Trudy returned with a hard expression of a woman who meant business. "You will do it, Leland . "
"The hell I will. That's not me, Trudy. Come on."
Trudy raised an eyebrow, "You've done it before."
Leland got hot under the collar. "I never and you know it."
Her smile was too knowing and way too amused. "In the place where I am, Leland, a dream is the same as reality. And you've dreamed of doing it, so you've already done it."
Leland scoffed in outrage. "Hey! What the hell is this? Is confidentiality not a thing wherever you are? You can't just go around peeking under the hood!"
"Yes, I can," she said confidently and without shame. "And I see it plain as day inside you, Leland. You just have to remove one little, tiny inhibition."
She was talking about Leland having sex with a man. They had been talking about Leland's hopes of finding someone to love and she brought it up like pitching a trip to the beach. Hey, what about going dick to dick? She of course, didn't use that language but she might as well have.
"I can't believe this!"
"Leland, I want you to be happy. And if you could just trust me, this is the path to a happiness you have never known before. It'll be your rebirth."
He got chills.
"He needs you, Leland."
He didn't need clarification on who she was talking about. He shifted nervously.
"Please give him the chance," Trudy said. "He can love again. He just needs the right person--and you, Leland. You're that person."
Leland was terrified. It felt like he was looking into the face of destiny and realizing he was woefully under prepared. "Trudy, this is nonsense."
"Is it? I know you love him."
"Yeah, but as a buddy."
"Love with seeds in friendship is the very best kind. All you have to do is allow the possibility. Open yourself to it, and it will happen."
"Trudy, he's not the man you married. He's--he has gotten so much worse. He has all these phobias and. There's just no way. He can't possibly want it."
"I can see under the hood, remember? He's had dreams, too. I'm not saying it'll be easy, but it is possible."
"Trudy--"
"I've been looking everywhere for the one he needs, and it's you. I'm not wrong about this."
"Okay,” he pushed away from the table. “It's time to wake up now."
"You can be his everything. And believe me, Leland, it will be all you ever wanted."
He woke up feeling not so rested this time. Felt like right after the boss gave you an assignment that was impossible to begin with and due yesterday. He had his work cut out for him, and the only thing he could do to combat the stress of it was to pretend it didn't happen. What dream? Trudy who?
That worked until the next case, when Monk cut himself off mid word, rubbed his eyebrow and then pivoted to face Leland with a triumphant expression. "I know how he did it!"
It was always nice to see Monk smiling. But the sparkle in his eye made the last Trudy dream slam into Leland fresh. All you ever wanted. Open yourself to it. He needs the right person. It's you.
"Here's what happened..." Monk explained a series of events that showed how a man might be able to think up the perfect crime, but he would never ever be able to execute it in an imperfect world.
Leland's heart pounded. He tried to speak normally as he issued orders to the team, but judging by Natalie and Randy's quick glances, there was something in his voice not usually there. He clapped Monk on the shoulder and they headed for the cars together. "You're amazing, you know that?"
Monk tilted his head and shrugged.
"I think I understand how you do it. That curse you're always talking about, it's the gift of seeing a perfect world and the real world at the same time. What is and what could be."
"Heaven and hell," Monk mused. "It's all closer than you think."
Leland's shoes scraped pavement as he stopped short. His skin had chill bumps. His voice was a little tight as he admitted, delicately, "Somebody once told me that in heaven, dreams are reality.... Think that's true?"
Monk didn't even blink at the random philosophical question. He contemplated it and nodded. "Absolutely. Trudy visits me in dreams all the time. It is very real."
"What if you dreamed about someone else? Would that still be real?"
Monk looked sharply at him, guilt plain as day on his face, and accidentally walked into a flower bed. He stumbled back out of it and let out a terrified yell at the state of his shoes. Natalie appeared with wipes and reassurances. Monk cleaned his clothes and hands meticulously, shooting Leland a few frantic looks. When he was done, he nodded in silent indication for Leland to follow him back out of earshot.
"Leland, I have something to confess. I, uh. I've been having an affair. In dreams, which are real, I've been seeing someone who is not my wife."
"Who?"
"I don't know. I can never see a face. I'm just not alone. Someone is with me and I feel...I feel...."
"Loved?"
He nodded. Leland thumped his arm. "It's okay. It sounds like a good dream to have. I'd like to have one like that myself."
Adrian's smile looked somewhat queasy, which matched Leland's feelings just fine. He had never been at ease when discussing emotion or anything that mattered to him on a personal and private level. Thankfully, Natalie came up just then and saved them. The subject turned to Julie and how school was nearly out for the day and whether or not Natalie would drive like a madwoman on the way to pick her up.
Leland watched them go, fond of his strange little buddy with the genius mind and the soft dreams.
----
"Leland, it's happening right now. Go to him. Go now. WAKE UP!"
Leland jolted awake, heart pounding. It was as if Trudy had slapped him. Now he couldn't shake the feeling; Monk needed him. He got dressed in the dark, trying to think of exactly what he would say to his best friend when he pounded on his door in the middle of the night. The truth? Were it anyone else, Leland would never consider it, but it was Monk. Maybe he was a little crazy, but so was Monk.
In the car, he heard distant thunder and saw lightning flashing out at sea. Not a great night to be out and about...just another reason to come clean instead of pretending he was just in the neighborhood. The storm blew in fast. By the time Leland parked, he had to dash through rain into the building.
He went upstairs and knocked. "Monk, it's me. Are you awake?"
When the door opened, Monk was in sleep rumpled pajamas, but he looked wide awake and on the verge of panic. He had his cordless phone in hand. His face was one of relief. "Cap'n! Thank God you're here!"
Leland swayed and blinked. This wasn't a dream, was it? "Uh, yeah. I know it's late…"
Thunder boomed closer than ever and Adrian nearly leapt out of his skin. He looked up as if he could see the angry skies, and snarled. "Oh god. It's a hurricane."
"No." Leland said firmly. He let himself in and locked up behind him. "It's a baby storm. We're safe inside. I promise."
Monk puttered, finding emergency candles and flashlights and batteries and freshwater. Leland felt himself relax and he grinned up at wherever Trudy was. It seemed just as likely that her ghost would send him here to keep Monk calm than for... any other reason. Either way, he had his work cut out for him.
“Will ya sit down, Monk? You're making me nervous shifting around."
Thunder rolled. Monk whined, “I hate storms.”
“They're a natural part of life.” He patted the couch cushion beside him. “Just sit right here and, I don't know, let's count to a thousand. I bet the storm will break before we get to 900.”
Monk scoffed and paced and then shot Leland a look and relented. Tense as a bow string, he sat next to Leland. “It’ll end at 735.”
Leland frowned. “That's oddly specific.”
“Odd numbers. Bad numbers. Bad storm. I bet at 735, we’ll all be dead.”
“Okay, I'm game, Monk, let's put some real money on that,” Leland extended a hand for a shake.
Monk shook on it, scoffing, “You can't pay me when we're dead.”
“I’ll pay up in a dream,” Leland said. “Twenty bucks.”
They shook and then started counting. “One. Two. Three…”
Between the drum of rain pounding the world outside, their steady counting, and the late hour, Leland began getting drowsy, but, for the sake of his friend, he fought his heavy eyelids and counted on. What kept him going was how every flicker of lightning or roll of thunder made Monk gasp or yelp, and left Leland to count the next few numbers alone. He did so always urging Monk with his eyes or with a firm grip on his hand, to join back in on the count. Which he eventually did, and Leland began to hear the way his voice would start to relax—until the next lightning.
Somewhere around three hundred, Monk suddenly tilted sideways, bringing his legs up onto the couch, curling into a ball and putting his head right on Leland's lap. Leland was surprised but oddly touched. He laid a hand on Adrian’s shoulder and was even more surprised when Adrian reached up and laid his hand over Leland’s.
Somewhere around five hundred and fifty, Leland’s other hand roamed until suddenly he touched Adrian's hair, feeling how the springy curls were warmest at the scalp and silky soft. And all the while, they counted on; sitting there, holding hands while Leland stroked his fingers through Adrian's hair. The storm did get pretty intense, but it was the most peaceful night Leland had spent in years.
By six hundred eighty, the rain slacked off. By seven hundred and ten, the rain stopped, but thunder still rolled in the distance. And when they reached 735, they both stopped and held their breaths…. But no more thunder could be heard.
Leland guffawed, astonished.
“How in the world did you do that?” Leland asked.
Adrian rolled his head, looking up at Leland from his lap rather than sitting up. “Most storms only last an average of half an hour. By the time you pitched the idea, it'd been blowing for fifteen minutes. Another fifteen minutes is 900 seconds, which was your bet. I picked a lower number and made it specific because I figured you'd ask about the specificity, then argue whatever insane explanation I gave, all of which would cut into counting time so that by the time we started, there would be less than 900 seconds on the clock and therefore, my lower number would be more likely to succeed.”
Leland huffed. “You cheated!”
Adrian’s eyes glinted with amusement. He released Leland's hand to snap his fingers, “Twenty bucks. Pay up, Cap'n.”
Leland laughed and had to shift to reach his wallet, upsetting Adrian's position. He sat up, fiddling with the tightly buttoned cuffs of his pajama shirt. Leland peeled out a twenty and handed it over. Adrian took it, happily, and began smoothing it out.
Leland said, “Please note, for the record, that neither of us are dead.”
Suddenly, Monk shot to his feet and said, “I came clean to Trudy. About my indiscretions.”
“Your what?”
“ The affair ,” he hissed and put the cleanest part of his hand to his eyebrow, eyes closed. His voice went high and thin. “I told her.”
“Uh.” Leland blinked. “Okay. How’d she take it?”
“She said it's a good thing that I feel loved. She gave me a hall pass.”
Leland barked. “A hall pass?”
“Good for one person. Someone special, who will take care of me, for her.”
“Awake or dreaming?”
Monk let out a pained little sound. “Either. Both. I…” he shook his head and shrugged and could not continue.
Leland nodded. “That's a sweet deal, Monk. You can't pass that up.”
“M’not,” he insisted miserably, shifting his shoulders. “I’ve been having such dreams ,” his voice became breathy with acute embarrassment. “And the laundry has become a nightmare.”
As perfect punctuation, a buzzer sounded through the apartment, then a low rumble that Leland had not exactly noticed before cut off. Monk shot to his feet. “The dryer.”
Leland followed him to the laundry room, mustache twitching with amusement.
“Happens to the best of us, Monk.”
He crossed his arms and leaned on the door jam. The small room couldn't hold them both as Monk emptied the front loading machine. The smell of way too many dryer sheets filled the air. “Man wasn't built for celibacy.”
Monk snarled at the fresh pile of sheets, underwear, and pajamas. Leland giggled. “Listen, Monk, you do know the clinical way to stop… nightly emissions , don't you?”
“No. What?” He implored.
“Cash in that Hall Pass awake . You need real stimulation.”
Monk started objecting so Leland raised his voice with assurances, “It'll be good for you. Come on. I'll take care of you, I promise.”
“You will?” Monk choked.
Leland gulped. “I will. Trudy told me exactly what to do. So let me, Aidge. I'm here for you.”
Monk started visibly shaking. The intensity built and built until Leland wrapped his arms around him like diving on a bomb. Holding him back to front, he spoke as gently as he could into Monk’s ear, “It’s okay. It's okay. Hm? Whatever you need, sweetheart, no reason to be embarrassed. It's a beautiful thing, right? The natural epitome of trust.”
“Trudy used to say that!”
Leland felt chills at the irrevocable proof that the dreams had been somehow more than dreams. There was no other way he could have gleaned one of Trudy's Sayings from the aether. His heart rate spiked. He let air out through his nose.
“I know. She told me in a dream. She's been working pretty hard, it seems. Why don't we give her a break?”
Monk nodded and relaxed into Leland’s arms, snuggling further into the embrace. He said, voice a soft strain of wonder, “You feel like him.”
“Him?” Leland croaked. “The man in your dreams? He holds you like this?”
Monk nodded.
Leland squeezed him a little tighter. Trudy had promised the gender thing wouldn't be an issue on Monk's end. Which meant Leland was going to have to let go of his hang up once and for all. He gulped.
“What else does he do, sweetheart?”
Monk shook his head, clamping his mouth shut like a man resisting torture.
“Does he… touch you, maybe?” Leland slowly drew a hand to Monk’s waist and down to his hip. He felt Monk resume trembling with the sudden intensity of a motorcycle that had been kicked to life. Leland paused with his hand on Monk’s hip bone. “Maybe he kisses you first?”
Monk squeaked. Leland grinned. This was easy. He could definitely do this. Tension fading in his own body, he pressed a kiss to Monk’s neck.
The moment lips and mustache brushed his skin, Monk flinched and giggled but he didn't fight his way free of Leland's embrace. He just cackled and said, “Wait, wait, we're in the laundry room, Leland, you're so bad !”
Leland chuckled, “Don't you think it'd be sexy to let the detergent watch you do the nasty?”
“Only sex freaks don't use the bed.”
“Maybe you are a sex freak, Adrian, hm? Maybe you want it so badly you’ve let the man in your dreams touch you outside the bedroom before? Yeah, I knew it! I knew you were naughty . Tell me about it, darlin. Where did it happen?”
“It's so shameful.”
“That's what makes it hot. But you loved him while he did it, right? And he loved you?”
“Of course!”
“Then it was beautiful. Tell me, baby. I want to know what makes you feel so good you make a mess.”
Monk choked. Leland held onto Monk’s warm and surprisingly pliant body and breathed evenly, finding a well of endless patience.
At length, Monk said, “The living room couch.”
“The couch?”
“I know, it's so bad! In the dream, as it's happening, I know that eventually guests will sit on that same couch and I already know I won't tell them. They won't ever know how filthy that spot is.”
Leland chuckled warmly, “That's the sexiest secret I can possibly imagine.”
“Does it make you hot, too?” And, bold as anything, Adrian took Leland's hand from his hip and moved it around front to press the palm to a hard ridge in Adrain's pajama pants. Leland made a sound like a gut punch and lost all control of his erection, going chubby against Adrian's ass.
“Oh, Adrian,” Leland chuckled drunk with anticipation. “Take me to the couch right now and I swear to God you'll feel loved.”
“Okay.” Adrian led him by the hand back to the living room. His body grew tense, breathing altered. He never actually looked right at Leland and gestured to the furniture. “Here it is.”
“Yep. The couch. How do you want me? Should I…?” He settled in the center with his arms open, forming a cradle. Adrian hesitated long enough that Leland decided he would absolutely die of happiness if Adrian actually did crawl into his lap. But Adrian remained frozen, so Leland ran through some options in his mind and tried another avenue. “What if it's like this?”
He scooted to the edge of the seat, and reached for Adrian, who took both his hands like someone drowning. Leland squeezed his fingers reassuringly and gave him a gentle tug. Once he was standing between Leland's knees, he carefully touched Adrian's fly.
“Is this something you dreamed about?”
The shaky breath was all the affirmation Leland needed. He opened Adrian's fly, pleased by the bulge that grew right before his eyes. He purred. “Yeah, baby, I dream about this, too. All the time.”
Adrian had both hands high against his own chest, attention riveted to the crown molding, but he laughed, a lower, smokey octave straight from the past. It might as well have been a shot of whiskey to Leland’s blood stream.
Leland tilted and pressed his mouth to the trapped head of Adrian’s dick. It twitched powerfully. He felt the heat of it through the thin fabric, and could even detect the heavy musk beneath a strong aroma of detergent. He mouthed at it some more, mapping the exact shape through the fabric, relishing every quiver and throb from Adrian.
A small halo of dampness appeared at the tip and Adrian let out a pained sound.
“Oh no, Cap’n, that means it's about to happen.”
Leland chortled. “I know, sweetheart.” He debated the wisdom of peeling the underwear away but Adrian was so timid already, he did not want to risk scaring him off. He breathed hot air over the bulge before mouthing at it again. Sinking into his deepest, most secret fantasy, Leland felt years melt away. He felt younger, freer.
It'll be your rebirth , Trudy had said.
Sweat broke out under his collar, his breathing hitched, but he nuzzled further into Adrian's crotch, teasing his balls.
“Ahh,” Adrian sounded panicked, “No! No! Get back! Cap’n, watch out!”
He pushed Leland backwards, as if tackling him out of the way of a bullet. Now they were stacked on the couch, throbbing groins mashed together. Adrian snarled, and either directly or indirectly rutted against him. “I said I'm close . It could have gotten all over your face .”
Leland felt himself blush. “Yeah, it could have.” He shuffled until he had slightly better lumbar support, clutching Adrian to him so he wouldn't think it was a signal to let him up. His breathing had gone ragged. “Would have meant…” he trailed off, too breathless to continue.
Because Adrian was definitely rutting now, small but fast movements that made their dicks grind against each other, and Leland was speechless for it. Adrian submitting to a sex act was hot enough; seeing him perform and chase his own pleasure, that broke Leland's brain.
Atop him, Adrian writhed and gasped, “Would've meant what?”
Leland gulped, guiding the flex of Adrian’s hips with his hands, bucking to meet him thrust for thrust, and laughed, carefree enough to hold nothing back. “Woulda meant I was marked as yours.”
Adrian verbally shivered.
Leland's heart pounded now, and he had no idea if it was for the delicious friction between their bodies or the subject matter. Cum marking; something he had only ever read about in magazines, fantasized doing to someone, not receiving. But he so yearned to belong to someone again, he'd take it in any form. Even that , apparently. The mental surrender lifted goosebumps all over his body, and a helpless noise slipped out of him.
Adrian gnashed his teeth and shuddered. “ Oh, Leland .”
All motion stopped. Had Adrain come? Leland’s trapped dick ached for more stimulation, but Adrian clutched him under the ears, their foreheads together, harsh breaths mingling. He met Adrian's eyes and was stunned by the heated expression there.
“I–I can't stop now. Will you be mine, Leland? All mine?”
Something punched Leland from within, hard enough to make a sound. He could only nod permission, and then Adrian’s breathing increased and he roared through his teeth, unloading against Leland without any further stimulation.
The gush of warmth, the potent smell, the intimate tremble he felt rock Adrain head to toe, speared through Leland's heart. He clutched him into a deep kiss. Adrian fought it at first but surrendered with a dazed little hum. Leland kissed his heart out and opened his own jeans, freed himself.
Adrian broke away, but Leland rasped, “stay there, baby, please , I’m so close.”
He trembled again but did as asked. Leland held him close and stroked himself fast and hard. He finished strong, adding to the wet halo between them, gasping praises. Adrian had done so good, better than Leland could have believed possible, so all he could really say was “thank God, oh thank God.”
Adrian giggled. “And thank Trudy.”
“Trudy!” Leland exclaimed. He looked heavenward. “ Thank you.”
Adrian stood up with the absent minded groan of a middle aged man who spent way too much time on bent knees. It may have also been a groan of disgust at the mess on the front of his pajamas.
Leland chortled. “Lemme help clean this up.” It replayed in his mind, the way Adrian had come on him. “ Oh my God , you did so good. I can't believe you willingly made a mess just for me.”
“My laundry bill is going to go through the roof,” Adrian commiserated.
The implication of future frots made Leland's mustache tilt, and he dared to tease, “There are ways around that. We could do it in our birthday suits from now on.”
Monk looked him in the eye and pretended he hadn't heard a thing. “I need to update my Laundry schedule and tell Natalie to buy extra detergent and dryer sheets.”
Trudy said it wouldn't be easy , he thought. The act itself had come as a second nature, but, no, nothing else about this would be. Funnily enough, it struck Leland as some kind of calling. One he answered in sound mind and body, fully aware of the sacrifices it would demand.
Natalie would definitely ask about the uptick in laundry. Dr. Krueger would probably hear about it. Leland should probably mention something to Karen about finally achieving self actualization like she always talked about…. This was no secret anymore. And that was okay.
Adrian left the room. Leland took just a moment, and weighed the work ahead against that limitless feeling he'd had as he teased a real life cock with his lips… then the look in Monk's eye right before he marked him… His skin tingled and his breath wavered. There was no question what he had to do now.
He went to the bathroom door and knocked. He could hear running water, a soap dish clatter. He tested the handle. Unlocked. Inside, Adrian was in a silk robe, scrubbing his underwear in the sink. His hyper focus hinted at underlying panic.
“Should we talk?” Leland asked.
“Trudy said it was ok.”
Thrown, Leland crossed his arms. “Of course it's okay.”
“Then what's to talk about?”
“What's going to change. What isn't. That kind of thing.”
“ You need to change.” Adrian said pointedly. Leland flinched a little before comprehending. He followed Adrian’s eyeline to the transfer stains on his crotch and laughed,
“My clothes?”
“You aren't sleeping in that, Leland. I just cleaned the sheets. I have a spare robe over there.”
Heart lifting on little wings, he nodded. “Okay.”
“And you'll have to pack a bag or something to leave here, so you'll always have a change of clothes. Day and night. Maybe you should get a drawer….”
Monk continued to think and plan out loud as he scrubbed. Leland quietly changed out of the dirty clothes and slipped on the robe, smiling. A bag, a drawer, a schedule to keep between houses, it all meant the same thing. He had a new place to call home.
Fin