After the plane touched down, I sent my partner a “plane landing” emoji. It only took about ten minutes to actually get off the plane once it had docked at the terminal, and only a few more after that for my checked luggage to appear at the baggage claim.

The time was 7 AM, local.

My partner pulled into the arrivals lane not long after, and gave me a warm greeting followed by a barely-concealed look of concerned terror.

“Jesus,” they said. “You look terrible.”

“I have been conscious for 28 consecutive hours,” I said flatly as they opened their car’s trunk.

We hugged a long hug. They loaded my luggage, and we both got in the car.

“So… bad flight?” they asked, starting the car.

“Okay flight,” I said. “There was a screaming kid in the terminal, but she quieted down soon after boarding. Takeoff was delayed but we got an unexpected tailwind, which made for a shorter flight.”

“Which made for a shorter nap,” my partner responded, driving away from the airport.

“Oh, I didn’t sleep, remember?” I corrected. “Flying makes me too anxious.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. And you tried one of those donut pillows that they sell at the Hudson News?”

“Yeah. Didn’t help.”

“Ouch. I’m sorry.”

The conversation paused for a moment until my partner asked about my family and how they were doing, and I told them at length. Before I knew it, we had arrived at our home.

After bringing my stuff in, my partner pulled a plate of pancakes out of the oven and poured a cup of coffee. I devoured both.

“Sleep deprivation munchies,” I said after they gave another concerned look.

“You wanna go take a nap?” they asked.

“You wanna help me do so?”

I tried to raise my eyebrows. My partner’s contained chuckle indicated that I had failed.

“Well…” they said. “I’ve never been good at sleep hypnosis, you know that. We do hypnosis because it’s sexy—”

I interrupted them by standing up and approaching them quickly. “Then take me.”

They responded with their trademark bedroom eyes. “Very well, then.”

~

“Hahhhh… hahhhhh…”

“Good toy,” they cooed, massaging my thigh. “Goooood toy. You were so pent up, weren’t you?”

“Good toy…” I panted, my mind too coated in post-coital bliss to form any words other than my partner’s suggestions.

“Oh dear…” my partner softly suggested. “Are we feeling sleepy already? Your eyes are fluttering.”

Were they…?

“You can go to sleep, toy. Don’t worry about the sunshine. Don’t worry about your fatigue. Just rest… relax, and dream of...”

I fell unconscious before I could process their words further.