Rally Rage

We (or rather, Quint) turned down Ike and Zeggy’s invitation to dinner after the rally, and got home at about seven-thirty. Almost as soon as I took my shoes off, Quint said, “I want to discuss that incident.”

‘Discuss.’ Yeah, right.

“’You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means’,” I said acerbically, watching him hang up his coat.

“I mean ‘discuss’, Inigo. After that, we’ll see where we stand.”

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Give Me the News

When Quint came home, I was sitting in front of the computer impatiently reloading Facebook again and again every few seconds. “I know,” I said, without looking at him, “I should be writing papers. But I need to see if they’ve voted yet.”

He walked over and leaned down, and I turned my head slightly so he could kiss me, but still kept my eyes on the screen and my hand on the mouse, clicking the refresh button once again. He straightened up after just a moment. “Hey.”

That was his look-at-me tone, not stern in any way but with a faint undercurrent of authority. I transferred my gaze to him immediately.

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Too Close for Comfort

Note: This takes place three months into the discipline relationship and nine months after they’ve started dating.

Quint realized he had just read the same paragraph three times and still had no idea what it said. Giving up, he put the book down and looked at the clock again. The minute hand had only advanced two dots from the last time he’d looked at it, and now informed him that his partner was officially twenty minutes late for curfew.

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Watch Your Step

“Excuse me! Excuse me! Sorry, coming through!”

I skidded around the corner and weaved through the other students in the crowded hallway. I bumped more than a few with my bag in passing, but I didn’t have time to do more than gasp a breathless “Sorry!” as I dashed past. The clock on the wall was showing that I had two minutes to make it to my class, but I was on the home stretch now. Just across the third-floor bridge between the West Building and East Building of Hunter College and around one more corner, and I was there. I eyed the bridge, trying to see a way through the students. At this time of day, it was predictably packed, but that had never stopped me before. I took one last deep breath as I stood on the threshold, then ran for it.

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“Biology” is Another Word for Hell

One of my favorite musicals, Spring Awakening, has a song in it called Totally Fucked. The opening lines have always struck a chord with me.

There’s a moment you know
you’re fucked
Not an inch more room
to self-destruct

I’m telling you this because I had one of those moments today.

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In my defense, I hadn’t slept much the night before. I get days every once in a while when I just can’t fall asleep, and I’m always in a bad mood the next day if I miss more than two hours. Usually when I’m like that, Quint will just tell me to go take a nap. This time he decided it would be better if we went to a movie.

So you see, really, it’s all his fault. If he’d just been a proper Top and ordered his cranky Brat to bed, none of it would have happened. I’m not saying I wouldn’t have put up a fight about the nap. I’ll fight about the sky being blue, when I get into that mood, but it probably wouldn’t have turned out as bad as it did.

But maybe I should start from the beginning. Zeggy’s always telling me I start stories in the middle and confuse the hell out of her.

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Curb The Attitude

Don’t get me wrong. I love Quint. When I contemplate being without him (which I don’t do very often), my chest gets really tight and I tend to get clingy with him for a few hours until the feeling goes away. Everything in my life has gotten immeasurably better since he came along.

But sometimes, he is really fuckin’ annoying.

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