I actually had the idea for this fic for ages. Once I read AJ's holiday short story 'The Joy That Keeps on Giving, and Giving' last Christmas, I instantly thought 'this is absolutely perfect for what I have in mind, I have to write this new continuity into my existing idea!' Sexy hijinks ensued.
Jon's Swinging Mid-Afternoon Misunderstanding
Jon
I pulled back into the parking spot behind my place less than an hour after I'd left it.
I was supposed to run some errands, but a minor complication put the kibosh on that.
The shopping plaza a few blocks over had every place I needed to visit in one convenient location.
Problem?
I always used the mall's side entrance, which was a simple old-fashioned hinged doorway. For some reason, that entrance was blocked off for maintenance, leaving only the main entrance as the sole point of egress. The main entrance that had automatic doors.
I was to automatic doors what a bolt of lightning was to a lone sapling upon a mountaintop: instantly lethal.
I was still able to get to the post office down the street from the main plaza, so at least our bills got paid. And sure, I could hop back in the Humvee and visit all the stores I needed to get to at various street-side locations around the city. But that was a lot of extra driving, and keeping the tank topped up on my big green tank of a vehicle was not cheap.
Besides, I was preoccupied by the curious incident of my boyfriend earlier in the afternoon.
Right from the very start of our relationship, I had told Donovan time and again that if he needed a rest from me, he was welcome to take one. Every other relationship I had ever had - romantic, familial, platonic or otherwise - had needed some breathing space. Besides my effect on technology, my ability to read the emotion off everyone around me as they were feeling it was more than a bit confronting. I knew I was a lot to take, and I was upfront about it. I promised Donovan that I would rather he take a break from me than let too much proximity break us; if he needed to request some time apart, I swore I wouldn't be offended.
I knew how difficult it was to live with me. I lived with me, and sometimes I got fed up with it.
Donovan had always assured me that he would never need time away from me. Ever. Vehemently. My sweet Donovan had boundless consideration, the patience of a saint, and actually seemed to rejoice in my constant presence like no one I had ever had in my inner circle before. Not even people related to me by blood; Natalie and Skylar came the closest, but even my obstinate sister and tech-loving niece drew the line at sharing a roof with me on a permanent basis. In the cohabitation race, Donovan was leaving all other competitors far back in the dust.
Which made what I read in Donovan's lines earlier today so utterly unexpected.
Usually when I told him I was running to the store, Donovan would offer to come with me. My boyfriend was very protective of me; after defending me from a shooter in our first month together, he had taken to shadowing me everywhere. Once the first honeymoon period of being official boyfriends was past (and the shooter was safely in custody), Donovan didn't stick to my heels quite so much, feeling assured enough about my safety to not need me constantly in his sight. Even so, more often than not he chose to accompany me wherever I needed to be. I got that his army training and natural protective instincts both wanted him to keep tabs on me. And I certainly didn't mind at all. Smoking hot boyfriend prowling along at my side, both his smile and his chakra lines lighting up as if there was literally no place in the world he'd rather be than next to me? Sign me up for a lifetime of that.
But today, when I had told Donovan I was going out, instead of offering to go with me, or looking disappointed that we'd be apart for even a short while - more times than I could count, I'd ended up staying in after seeing his anticipation for my return in his lines before I'd even left - this time he had looked…
Relieved. Pleased. Eager for me to go.
I know I had said that he could request time apart from me and I wouldn't be offended, but apparently I had been a liar.
It hurt more than I anticipated, mostly because I had been completely blindsided by it. I got complacent. Should have known that even though this was by far the longest relationship I had ever been in, the wheels would inevitably fall off before we made it to the one-year milestone.
What really bothered me, though, was that Donovan hadn't been upfront with me about it. Despite the fact that I could read his aura like a roadmap, he was always conscientious about verbalizing what he felt so I couldn't jump to conclusions and misconstrue what I could see. He promised early on to always talk to me, just as I had promised to always talk to him, since he couldn't read me quite as well as I could his lines (even then I felt like a very open book to him and his excellent instincts).
But today, Donovan hadn't so much as hinted at how happy he'd been to be rid of me. That was unlike him. He knew how much I saw. Though he was never cruel, he was often blunt with me, to the point of painful honesty at times, because he knew there was no point trying to hide what he felt from me. Compared to how earnest he usually was, the way he had briefly said his goodbyes to me while not getting up from the couch, concealing a clear view of his chakra lines behind the seat back, was highly suspicious.
I had still caught a glimpse of relief, evasiveness, and… a flare of copper, which made no sense at all. In the time we'd been dating, Donovan had never needed time out for a solitary wank, not when we had had such spectacular sex right from the first time we had tumbled into bed together.
Was my boyfriend wanting to explore a kink on his own? Was I not fulfilling his requirements sexually? Or did he find my absence somehow more arousing than my presence? If Donovan was seeing someone else on the side - and it felt like a betrayal of all I knew about him to even contemplate it - I would have seen the signs before now… wouldn't I?
Just like I saw the signs that the crush he'd been nursing for a week was on me. Never going to live that down.
With these worrying thoughts in my head, I grabbed the pastry box off the passenger seat and locked up the Humvee. Rather than run around town with my mind only half on the jobs I was supposed to get through, I decided to take home Donovan's favourite coconut-glaze donuts from the bakery round the corner from the plaza, and take the bull by the horns. Donovan had told me how important communication would be to us going forward, and I was going to use his advice to save us. If there was an issue with our relationship that he was too reticent to bring up with me, I would confront him about it, hopefully preventing the best relationship I had ever been in from stalling before it could reach its first anniversary. My ability to see problems as they developed didn't give us a free pass. We'd already had a few arguments thus far, and difficult as those had been, giving voice to kit rather than pretending things were fine and letting resentments build had only made us stronger. I was willing to work for this relationship, so I was going to go right in there and be direct about it.
With sweet treats as a peace offering. If it was all for nothing and my Donovan had just been in a rare grouchy mood, the donuts would still be appreciated. I'd lived with Donovan long enough to know by now that he had the metabolism of an Olympic-level athlete, and needed to be kept fed in order to stave off the occasional case of the hangries.
Hopefully it was nothing more than that.
As I let myself in through the back door, I noticed Donovan's truck still in the car space beside mine, and another truck in the third spot beside that, a large toolbox visible in the back. My neighbours knew to keep all three of my designated spaces clear. Maybe one of the surrounding stores was getting repairs done, or someone from outside the neighbourhood had unknowingly parked there? No matter, I had other things to contend with. I wasn't the type to call a tow-away on some unsuspecting out-of-towner.
"Donovan, I'm back!" I called out as I came in, dropping my sunglasses in the bowl on the hall stand. No answer, and the tv was turned off. Donovan was no longer on the couch. Putting the box of donuts on the counter, I went upstairs in search of my boyfriend.
I found him, in our bedroom, on our bed, with another man.
And I mean on the bed. They were both standing upright on it, a towel laid out on the bedspread to protect it from their shoes, practically cheek to jowl, fully clothed, both of them with their arms raised above their heads. Donovan was holding onto something - some kind of bracket? - that was now attached to the ceiling. The other guy held what looked like an electric drill; he wore overalls over a plaid shirt and a tool belt round his waist, like the stereotypical handyman out of a movie.
Either I had just walked in on the most unlikely G-rated roleplay ever to take place in a bedroom, or something far more innocent was unfolding here.
They both turned when I creaked the door open, their expressions saying 'busted'. Donovan looked panicked, guilty, somewhat resigned, and… that fleck of copper was still there? The other guy looked more uncertain than incriminated, and his lines filled with confusion as he looked me up and down. What his aura told me was ordinary enough: early forties, happily married, step-father to three small children who he absolutely adored, some slight money woes but nothing major, a recurring back problem that he should see a chiropractor about and a cigarette habit discontinued four years ago before it could damage his lungs too much. No signs of lust or adultery, despite standing within kissing distance of my boyfriend upon our massive king bed.
Curiouser and curiouser.
"Babe," Donovan said, his surprise and dread evident in his voice as much as his lines, though he was trying to sound nonchalant. "You're back earlier than I thought you'd be. Uh, this is Brad. He was helping me fix something that I couldn't put up on my own.
Brad gave me a somewhat-awkward nod in greeting, holstering his drill on his belt like a sheriff in an old Western film. "Hey, man. Nice place you got here."
"Hi Brad, and thank you. The view of it must be good from up there," I quipped, more bemused by the situation than anything. Oh boy, I couldn't wait to hear the explanation behind this.
Brad nodded uncertainly. "Yeah well, this is good and sturdy, all set to go." He gestured at the metal bar now attached to our ceiling, as if I should know what it was. "I can help you set up the rest-"
"No! No, that's alright," Donovan said very quickly, nervous glance darting between Brad and I. "We- I can do the rest. But I appreciate the help."
"Right, well, I'll leave you to it then." Obviously picking up the weird vibes, Brad got down from the bed and passed me on the landing. "Let me know if there's anything else y'all need help with. You have my card."
"Thanks, man. Appreciate it."
With a nod and one more curious glance at me, Brad went down the stairs. In the silence that followed, we clearly heard his footsteps along the downstairs hall, and the door thudded shut behind him. His truck started up and pulled away from out back a few seconds later.
Left alone with my boyfriend, I turned to Donovan with one eyebrow raised, an ornery smirk on my lips. Time to face the music.
He had the grace to look sheepish. "Jon, there's a reasonable explanation for this."
I folded my arms, settling against the door jamb to listen. "I'm all ears."
"It, uh, it has to do with the Christmas present I got you last year."
Christmas present? That was months ago. And we'd done a Secret Santa with his family and mine for Christmas. I'd gotten a lovely snow globe - very memorably haunted - from his brother Brandon, and for his gift he'd drawn-
Oh. Oh.
A very different kind of grin spread across my face as I remembered the present he had given me in private. One definitely not appropriate for me to unwrap in front of our respective families. Oh, this was too good. "Donovan, did you get us another sex swing?"
He chuckled, still looking shamefaced. Well, that explained the copper lust in his aura. "The last one was such a resounding success, I thought an upgrade was in order."
I busted up laughing, nearly doubled over with relief and amusement. Compared to the fears I'd had, this was far too good. No! Oh no, he did not- "Did you hire a handyman to help you put up a sex swing?!"
He ran a hand over his face with a groan, his golden skin reddening in embarrassment. "I didn't tell him that was what it was. I told him it was a bracket for a disability sling. That was why he likely looked so confused to you, you walked in unassisted when I had told him this thing was necessary for you to get out of bed every morning."
If I laughed any harder, I was seriously going to bust a gut. "It looks like it'll get me out of the bed alright - a few feet above our mattress. But why hire someone?"
"I needed the extra hands to drill it in while holding it up - and babe, no offence, but you couldn't have done it without killing the electric drill."
I waved a hand to indicate none taken. "Fair enough. Hiring a stranger, though?"
Donovan rolled his eyes. "Much as I'm close to my dad and my brother, no way was I getting either of them to help me put up a sex swing. And there is no way in hell Garrett would ever let me live it down if I asked him to help."
I laughed all over again as I imagined what Garrett's reaction would have been. Much as I liked the man my boyfriend considered to be an honorary brother, I likewise didn't want Garrett involved in our sex life. Same went for anyone else in his family.
"Alright, when you put it like that, it makes sense. And you were trying to surprise me?"
I saw relief spread through Donovan's lines, wholly unlike his gladness to see me walk out the door an hour earlier. "I tried. Sorry, babe, it didn't turn out to be quite the kind of surprise I was aiming for. I thought you cottoned to the fact I was waiting for you to leave so I could call Brad in to help me put this up. I didn't mean to raise your suspicions, and I wasn't planning anything untoward. That was the only reason I wanted you out of the house, and I didn't actually want to be without you."
Of course he'd guess that I must have seen what he was feeling earlier, and of course he would hasten to reassure me. I never should have doubted my Donovan. "I understand. I admit I was a little concerned about why you were so happy I was leaving you alone for a few hours. But I get it now."
Donovan hopped off the bed and came over to envelope me in a hug. Given the tension we had just came through, I think we both needed it. There was no way I could doubt how much he wanted me, not with the gold filling up his lines at my eye level, or the way he tenderly embraced me like I was the most precious thing on earth.
"Why are you back home so soon anyway? Is everything alright?"
I huffed out my previous frustrations against his sternum, snuggling a bit deeper into his strong arms. "They closed off my usual entrance at the mall. Only way in was through the automatic doors."
Knowing how much that must have irked me, he smoothed a hand soothingly up and down my back. "Ah, damn. I can go with you next time babe, hold the doors for you."
"Thanks, honey. Another time." Now that I was home and surrounded by him, I didn't want to go out again anytime soon. "I got donuts from that place you like, if you worked up an appetite with your, ah, home maintenance."
Donovan pulled back enough to give me a meaningful leer. Oh, he had an appetite to match mine, alright. And it was definitely not donuts either of us were craving. "After all that maintenance work, I could use a little time in bed."
"I don't think a nap is in the- Wait." Before I could lose all higher functioning power to my libido, I remembered what my Christmas gift to him had been. "If you're refreshing your gift, does that mean you got out my gift too?"
Donovan snickered deviously. I loved how much we thought alike. "No, I'm not wearing it. Yet. Didn't want to bend down to change out drill bits and have Brad see some lace peeking out from the waistband of my jeans. Would have definitely given away what was already a suspiciously-placed ceiling bracket."
I slid my hands down from where I had been resting them on the small of Donovan's back to palm his ass, which had looked even more spectacular than usual in the lacy lingerie I'd gotten him. "Smart move. The less shared with Brad, the better."
He gave me a possessive squeeze that quickly urged most of my blood down south, then hummed speculatively. "I can still put it on. And I, uh, might have upgraded it a bit too."
Suddenly I was no longer savouring the feel of warm denim beneath my hands. I needed those jeans off him. Immediately. "I think I'm up for a fashion show. And a ride on a swing."
Donovan rumbled deep in his chest, a purr of pure anticipation that made the copper running through his lines flare like a flashbulb. I wasn't going to be comfortable in my jeans for very much longer. He asked: "Shall I finish up the décor and slip into something more comfortable?"
"Please." I slid my jacket off, more than eager for him to slip into me as soon as possible.
He took a step towards our closet, then paused, as if he were remembering something. "Oh, yeah. That bracket is articulated, so the swing can be hung from that one anchor point, then repositioned within a certain range. Way it's set up, it can be swung round so it's very close to the wall."
He smirked at my groan, knowing just what that information did to me. Much as I loved the swing he got for us at Christmas, it only worked when it was hung in an open doorway. And hot as it was to have him thrusting into me while I was suspended mid-air, he knew how much I love it when he fucked me while pressing me against a wall. Having him hold me in place while he pounded me was hot, but imagining him pressing me to the wall, thrusting into me just how I liked, while both his hands were free to do other things-
My jeans were by now near intolerable.
"You are very overdressed," I informed him, unbuttoning my waistband with one hand as I stripped my shirt off with the other.
He chuckled lowly again, that bass rumble all sex, as he disappeared into the closet. The sound of packaging rustling and boxes ripping open caused my pulse to speed up in anticipation. Since he had that side of things covered, I kept dropping my clothes in a trail along the floor as I went to the bedside table to get the lube.
If this was what he got up to while I was out, I could definitely get behind this sort of home improvement.
