So I actually wrote again today, and took care of some personal things that were causing some anxiety. Overcoming that anxiety was really empowering though and I got things figured out enough to come home and be in a good mood even if I didn’t go to therapy today. (My therapist’s kid was sick, so he had to stay home.)

I managed to write something that was actually cute and light-hearted, today. Goes to show that as much as I don’t want to admit it, I need the space right now. I know I wrote closer to 1500 words than 1000, which is good progress, for me. Finished two things, started a third. Each were kinda short, though. The cute thing is the shortest, at maybe 300 or so words.


“Jazz, we need to talk.”

Jazz sighed in frustration, putting his paperwork down in front of him as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “What is it now, Savin?”

Savin gave him a small smile, sitting down at the kitchen table. He picked up the paperwork Jazz had tossed aside and flipped through it. “I think you need to get your eyes checked.” 

Jazz scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t know what the hell you’re talking about — I can see perfectly fine.”

“Jazz, when you have to hold the papers like this —” Savin pushed his glasses up and over his forehead, settling them in his hair. He squinted at the paper for a moment before bringing it several inches away from his nose, “—it’s time to go see if you need glasses.”

“Just because you can’t see doesn’t mean I can’t, asshole,” Jazz snapped, snatching the paper out of Savin’s hand. The words on the page blurred together, the letters hardly distinguishable from a distance. How long had it been like this? It wasn’t like anyone’s vision ever got spontaneously worse like that.

“You know, I think you’d look adorable with glasses,” Savin said, slipping out of his chair. He walked over to Jazz and slung an arm over his shoulders, nuzzling Jazz’s neck before kissing him there lightly. “Please just go get them checked?” he breathed against Jazz’s skin.

Jazz let out a quiet gasp, leaning into Savin’s touch. “It’s not like I’m running into walls or anything —”

“Maybe not the walls, but you’ve been tripping over things more than usual,” Savin said, chuckling quietly against Jazz’s neck. He continued to plant kisses there, his hands sliding around Jazz’s front and slipping under Jazz’s shirt. 

“I hate you,” Jazz moaned, directing Savin’s hands down towards his lap instead. “I’ll go get my eyes checked — if you’ll let me tease the shit out of youfor once.”

Savin quickly undid the zipper to Jazz’s jeans, one of his hands disappearing under the fabric. “It’s not like you’ll get me to beg for it,” he murmured, nipping at Jazz’s ear. “Deal.”

Jazz grinned, grabbing Savin’s hands and pulling the older man back towards their bedroom. Everything went smoothly until he bumped into the door frame, causing Savin to laugh beside him.

Maybe he did need glasses, after all.