Akkal laces the fingers of his front hands together and presses them beneath his chin. “Soppo can have one too, yes?”
Huh. I didn’t think he heard me offer that. Little stinker. “Yes, Soppo gets one too.”
Chapter 9
ZIVREN
Iget home in the early morning hours to a quiet, dark house. Everyone’s asleep, and soon I will join them. I keep my steps light when I enter the bedroom I share with June, and quickly wash up after a long, exhausting day at work. It was a stressful day but equally rewarding. We saved multiple lives from that old apartment above Bushqawe’s Noodles, which is a miracle given how many code violations there were. I’m impressed it took this long to go up in flames.
I find myself smiling as I towel off my skin, eager for June to wake up so I can tell her about it. This is the first time I’ve had someone to share my good news with. It’s nice. Since bringing Akkal into the world, I’ve felt there was something missing. A significant piece that would make us feel whole. I didn’t know what it was or how to fill it. I just knew it was there. The more time June spends with us, I’m starting to realize it’s her.
The night is warm, and I decide to forgo my standard night shirt and wear only my shorts to bed. As I leave the washroom and round the corner of the dark bedroom, I hear an, “Oof,” as June walks straight into me.
“Oh shit,” she whisper-screams. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”
She sounds as if she’s out of breath. “Are you well?”
“No, I’m not well! I’m sweating my tits off.”
“Errr, what?”
She steps around me and scurries into the washroom, turning the light on and hovering over the sink. “Look at me,” she whimpers, staring at her reflection. “Fucking soaked.”
It’s a warmer night than we’ve had lately, but not enough to create this much perspiration. June’s yellow hair is damp and sticking to her face. There’s a sweat line running from the neck of her light gray shirt to her belly, and matching wet marks beneath her armpits. Worry fills my stomach as my limited medical training kicks in.
“Come, sit.” I guide her to the small bench next to the wash box and gather her hair off her neck. She always keeps an elastic on her wrist, and I use that to pull it into a knot on top of her head, and then press a cool, wet towel against her forehead.
She tries batting my hands away, but her movements are slow and she misses. “Ugh, I’m so gross right now. You don’t want to touch me.”
What a foolish assumption. Since she first appeared in my line of vision, I’ve thought of little else beyond touching her. “Incorrect. You’re not gross, but you may be ill.”
She lets out a snort. “Perimenopause isn’t a disease. Although maybe it should be. Then doctors might actually take the time to learn about it.”
“What is peree––” I begin, trying to repeat the unfamiliar word as I lift each eyelid and examine her pupils. Then I lift her top lip to check the color of her gums. “What is that?”
“Oh, it’s this fun little biological phase people with ovaries go through. It means my eggs are shriveling up, and my ability to create life is ending. Which is fine. Being in my forties, it’s not like I had my heart set on getting pregnant at this point. I just hoped I could ease into the end of my fertility with some grace,and not, you know,” she gestures to her face and sweat-stained shirt, “this.”
“So this has happened before?” I ask, relieved. Beyond checking her baseline vital signs, I have no idea what kind of medical necessities a human has. If I had to bring June to the hospital, I don’t think I’d be able to leave her side.
“Yup,” she replies with a pop of the P at the end. “This is a hot flash. I sweat buckets for about five minutes, then it stops.”
All she needs is to cool down? I can fix that. “Come.” I take her hand and lead her back into the bedroom. I pull her in front of my body when we’re next to the window facing the far wall. There’s a small air conditioning unit shaped like a hexagonal sapphire. I press the On button on the left side, and it begins blasting cold air directly onto June’s face and neck.
“You’re kidding me. That’s what this thing does?” She tilts her head back to look at me. “I had one in my house as well, and I was too intimidated to mess with it. I thought it was a piece of art I didn’t understand.” She lets out a moan of pleasure as she leans forward and pulls on the neck of her shirt, letting the cold air reach her chest.
While she’s distracted, I reach down and adjust myself in my shorts so she can’t tell how obvious my erection is. Though, if she keeps making those noises, I’m not sure how I’m going to survive the night. I’ve had to find times throughout the day to escape to the washroom simply to stroke my cock and provide temporary relief. Because temporary is all it is. As soon as she bends over or runs her fingers through her hair or puts food in her mouth, I’m right back to where I was––hard and in agony.
“Oh fuck, that’s so good,” she whimpers.
Precome seeps through the front of my shorts.
She turns around so the air can hit the back of her neck, and I realize how close we are. Her nipples are poking through hershirt, gently scraping against my bare chest with each breath she takes.
Her face is relaxed as her eyes flutter closed and she says, “Mm, I needed this.”
I grunt, trying to hold onto the final scraps of my control.
“I saw you today, you know.”
