Summary: Plagued by sexual nightmares, Alfred F. Jones drops out of college and checks himself into a mental health institution seeking help. It's going well until his therapist suddenly suggests moving to private home visits to complete his recovery. Not sure what else to do but glad to get his life back, Alfred agrees.

Pairing: UkUs

Warnings: Non-con, manipulation, bondage, sexual violence abuse of trust, straight-up abuse, therapy, abuse of trust in therapy… you get it.

000

"And in this dream, you were a demon?" his therapist, Arthur said, scribbling in a notepad and raising his eyebrows. "Being tortured by angels."

Alfred nodded, shaking in his seat. He'd wrapped the blanket from the couch around himself and curled up on the couch itself, his head against the arm pillow, letting nothing but his face peek out from the blue blanket. Not even his hair was exposed. Still, he felt the phantom brushes of fingers on his lips and mistook the bridge of his glasses for the pressure of a cloth over his eyes. "They were pulling out my wings and tugging on my tail."

"And you were naked this whole time?" Arthur said.

Alfred nodded.

"And you were aroused?"

The blanket did nothing to hide his blush.

"Yes," he said, his voice soft.

The hospital had been very accommodating to him. They gave him a private room so that when he woke from his nightmares—and he considered them nightmares!—with a raging boner, he didn't have to say anything if he didn't want to. The nurses always knocked before coming in and they didn't comment if he'd missed a spot trying to clean up. They were experimenting with medication right now. They all understood that he checked himself in because he wanted to get back out as fast as possible. His reasons were confidential. He had told no one outside of the staff. For all his friends and family knew, he had a stress-induced psychiatric break and was just trying to recover.

"My brother was in the dream, too," said Alfred. "Our doppelgangers were the angels who were… fucking us. But Mattie escaped back to hell and the angels' father took out their aggression on me. And. And they were," his eyes started to water. His throat closed up. His eyes had been red for days from sleep deprivation and crying. "They were really rough. I don't. I. They said I should like it because I was a devil and I was supposed to like the k-kinky stuff."

"Was the 'kinky stuff' cutting off your wings?" said Arthur. His face was perfectly straight. His eyebrows rose and fell occasionally, but he never smiled or laughed at Alfred's dreams, and that was all Alfred really wanted when he agreed to let Arthur analyze him.

He shook his head. "No. That was… that was like… rough sex. Toys. Like the, the dream I had where I was a sex doll…"

"The one about the pleasure facility?"

Alfred's breath hitched. He took off his glasses to wipe at his eyes, then nodded.

"Yeah. That one. They did stuff like in that one. My wings were just—so I couldn't get away like Matthew did. And it hurt. It really, really fucking hurt, I was crying, I woke up right afterwards crying and…"

"And you had an erection?"

Alfred cried as he nodded, wiping his eyes frantically, as though getting rid of all the tears would somehow get rid of the memory of that morning, four AM, his cock in his hand and his fingers in his ass as he frantically masturbated to the though of his therapist look-a-like hovering above him with hedge clippers.

He whimpered where he lay on the couch, the memory of his dream starting to make him to harden beneath the blanket. He kept the blue blanket wrapped around himself tightly, but his hands kept drifting downwards until he was palming himself through his clothes under the blanket, trying to not bite his lip make a noise to reveal himself. Tears continued making their slow way down his cheeks.

"I do have a theory," said Arthur, putting down his pencil and notebook and scooting his chair closer to the couch where Alfred lay. Arthur's crotch is less than three feet away from Alfred's face.

Unbidden, from behind his eyelids, comes the flash of Arthur's imaginary cock. Alfred's lips around it. Sucking while Arthur spoke. Sucking and being shoved down more and more until he chocked while Arthur spoke.

"By your own account, you haven't had any sexual trauma in your life. But you've had other fears, obviously. A fear of restraint. Of not being in control. Of being reduced to an object for the pleasure of others."

Arthur leaned over, smiling kindly, and took Alfred's cheek in his hand. Alfred opened his mouth, even though no fingers slid inside. He realized what he'd done a moment later and struggled to close his jaw again. His lips stayed parted. Arthur's hands stayed on his cheek. Not gripping. Not twisting. Alfred dug his nails into his own jeans and pretended there were dire consequences if he failed to stay perfectly still in Arthur's palm.

"Your dreams might be using your insecurities as a premise, and the sex is a way for you to find comfort in your fears so that you instead see your fears as a situation which might give you pleasure, rather than stress."

Alfred stared at Arthur's face, his blue eyes watching every contour and shade change. He knew Arthur's face perfectly by now. He had kissed Arthur in the dark, having to run his tongue down Arthur's chest before he could reach Arthur's cock.

"I have a dream about a nurse with your face giving me a lobotomy," Alfred blurted out.

Arthur blinked. Stares at him. Again, he does not laugh. He says, "Oh?"

"They're really hot," Alfred said, the tears returning fast enough to stream down onto Arthur's hand. Arthur watched him closely, a fascination in his eyes that Alfred didn't recognize. He was staring at the tears on Alfred's face more than Alfred's eyes. "And sometimes you're a college student who I signed up for your study, but it was a study on stimulus. And every time you pulled my hair I came. I was so, so tired. And then once you were fighting with I-Ivan, my friend, and you two were fighting over who would hunt me down—I-I think you were the angels' dad. I've sucked your cock. I'm so sorry, I don't know why I'm so fucked up. I haven't even known you more than a few weeks. I-I don't know if I can—"

Without warning, Arthur tugged Alfred's hair.

Alfred came in the blankets, arching backwards and shouting. His world flashed dark for a moment, and he wasn't sure if he'd closed his eyes or if something had stopped working for a moment because his heart was pounding far too fast, the hand was still gripping his hair and the inside of his boxers was sticky and come was starting to smear down the inside of his pants.

He stared up at his therapist, wide-eyed and panting harshly.

Arthur smiled faintly and released Alfred's head.

"I do believe I've found a solution for you."

For the first time in months, Alfred's breath flooded his lungs with ease. "You do?"

His therapist nodded. "I believe with some medication and routine house calls, say, twice a week, I should be able to… make the nightmares less of a concern, at the very least. I don't usually do home visits, but given this is a very…special circumstance, I'd be happy to visit you privately. I'll recommend you to be released within the next few days."

Alfred blinked. "Wait. I'm not staying here?"

Arthur shook his head. "It will be unnecessary. Trust me. At this point, recovering in the privacy your home would be much more beneficial. But before we end this session, are you sure you've told me all of the dreams you've had?"

Alfred swallowed and licked his lips, thinking hard, trying to ignore the irritation of not knowing what it was that triggered Arthur's epiphany. "Uh. There's a few, I think. Maybe. I don't totally remember."

"Describe them to me," said Arthur. "In detail, preferably."

He sat back in his chair, his legs spread apart and in Alfred's direct line of sight. Arthur readied his notepad once more. "Whenever you're ready."

000

hahahaha yoo fuck I completely forgot to post this on FFnet for like... two months. Oops?

This is the opening chapter to a 4-part story called "The Best Nightmare" that can be found here: www. fanfiction s/10601053/1/The-Best-Nightmare

inspired by shieunni's NSFW artwork on tumblr. This story was written and posted with her permission.