Read Aaron Online

Authors: J.P. Barnaby

Aaron (31 page)

BOOK: Aaron
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Leaning into the kiss, knowing he was safe in this dream with Spencer, Aaron took this one unique opportunity to play out all his conscious and even repressed fantasies. Barely sixteen when his life changed, he had only just started to come to terms with being gay. He’d never had any kind of relationship with anyone, much less kissed or touched another boy. He’d fantasized about it, almost constantly, just as any other boy his age would have, but that horrifying night even took those from him. Whenever he thought about another boy after that, all Aaron could think about was pain and shame.

Aaron could almost feel Spencer’s soft, gentle lips opening and closing in a soundless rhythm as he left tender kisses across his chest. Looking down, he saw the unruly mop of light brown curls contrasting beautifully with his own pale skin, which, to his heart-wrenching delight was smooth rather than scarred. Aaron’s back arched, begging silently for his touch. In the dream, he could be the man Spencer deserved, unbroken and beautiful, the man he would have been. Spencer’s warm, sensuous mouth closed over Aaron’s nipple, licking, sucking, and in that moment he was filled with a desperate craving for Spencer’s affection, and he felt the low, ragged moan that was forced from him.

Aaron’s fingers entwined in Spencer’s hair as his lips moved lower, causing the muscles in Aaron’s abdomen to tighten under his attention. Pulling Spencer up on top of him, he found they were both naked.

He woke up sweating.

 


A
ARON, you seem a little distracted, a little edgy today. Is there something you want to talk about? Did something happen?”

Aaron squirmed in the chair, uncomfortable remembering the dream in front of Spencer’s father, incredibly glad Spencer was studying for a midterm in the other room.

Dr. Thomas pressed gently. “I want to help you. In order to do that, you need to be able to confide in me. I won’t push. That’s not my way. Pushing you to talk about something you don’t want to disclose will only lead to resentment and distance between us, and that isn’t helpful.”

“I… I had a dream last night. It was… disconcerting,” Aaron blurted.

 

“Was it about the attack?”

 

Aaron shook his head and looked down at his knees. “It was… sexual.”

“Aaron, that isn’t anything to be ashamed of. I hadn’t planned to start that aspect of our talks until you felt more comfortable with me, but I don’t want for this to upset you.” He looked thoughtfully at Aaron for a moment, as if contemplating his next question carefully.

“Aaron, I know this is a very personal question, but it’s something I need to know in order to help you.”

 

“I’ll tell you if I can,” Aaron offered.

 

“Have you had any kind of fantasies about sex since you were attacked?”

 

Aaron shook his head quickly.

 

“Was this the first dream you’ve had like that?” Dr. Thomas asked, his voice very gentle.

 

“No, I’ve had one other, but it was just… just a kiss.”

“It’s not uncommon for people who have been assaulted, especially with such violence, to disconnect from sex, even to be scared to think about it because they think it means they wanted the assault to occur. I’m not going to try to invalidate those fears, because they are very real to you.”

Aaron looked up then, surprised. Other shrinks had kept telling him there was no reason to be afraid; it was all over now. Not one of them told him it was okay to feel what he was feeling, that it was okay to be afraid.

“I’m going to ask you a few more questions to get a better background, a better understanding.”

“Okay.”
“Was the dream about someone you know?”

Aaron flushed scarlet from his hairline, down his neck. With his normally pale complexion, he felt almost like his face was glowing. He had no idea how to explain to his doctor he’d had sexual dreams about his son.

“Yes,” he whispered.

 

Aaron

 

“Someone you’re close to?”
He nodded.

“Now, again this question is foundational. There are no right or wrong answers, no judgments. Anything you tell me in these sessions is strictly confidential unless I feel you are in danger.”

Oh God, he already knows, Aaron thought.
“Was it a man or a woman you dreamed about?”
At that, Aaron stood and walked over to the window.

“A guy,” Aaron said flatly, not turning back. He liked the Thomas family’s huge rolling lawns and the flowers that even now were still visible, intermingled with the other landscaping. It was calm and peaceful here, not like his house where the neighbors were just a few feet away and his brothers were everywhere.

“Were you attracted to the man in your dream?”
“Yes.”
“Are you attracted to men in general?”

Aaron couldn’t stop the helpless tears that formed in his eyes. Talking quietly to the trees outside rather than to the shrink who sat waiting for his answer, he said, “I figured it out about a year before the attack.” He noticed neither he nor Dr. Thomas ever called a spade a spade and used the term “rape.” It was always “the attack” or “the assault.” “That’s why they picked me; somehow they knew. Maybe it was the way I walked, or some other mannerism they considered effeminate. Because I’m gay, Juliette lost her life.”

“I don’t think that’s true, actually,” Dr. Thomas said quietly, and Aaron turned around from the window.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked, moving toward the chair in front of the man.

“I have done a lot of research, read hundreds of case studies about violent rapes, because helping to treat the survivors of these kinds of attacks is what I specialize in. Statistically, an overwhelming majority of gang rapes on a male and female victim are on couples. I’m almost

positive you and your friend were targeted because that group of men thought you were a couple. Rape isn’t really about sex; it’s about power and humiliation. Assaulting you in front of a girl they thought was your girlfriend, and hurting her in front of you when you were powerless to stop them, gave them a sense of power.”

Stunned, Aaron sat back and thought about Dr. Thomas’s explanation. For well over two years, he had assumed they had been targeted because of his sexual orientation. Could it be possible he was wrong?

“As for you having a sexual dream about another guy, particularly one you are close to, there isn’t anything wrong with that. In fact, I would take that as a positive sign. What did you do when you woke up?”

“I went to take a shower. I felt… dirty.”

 

“You didn’t masturbate?” he asked in a clinical tone, which made Aaron feel slightly less embarrassed, but he still blushed as he answered. “I haven’t done that since before….”

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today,” Dr. Thomas said, taking note of Aaron’s agitation and embarrassment. “Please consider that sexual dreams and masturbation are normal and healthy, Aaron. There is no reason for you to feel ashamed or guilty. I do believe that you beginning to rediscover your sexual self is an improvement. You are starting to work past your fears and take your life back.”

I
T WAS the first time in over two years that Aaron had taken a shower before bed. Normally, because of his desperate need for routine and structure, he took one as soon as he woke to wash away the vestiges of his nightmares. As steam rose above the curtain, he removed his clothes, folded each piece, and set them neatly on the sink. His hands trembled with the fear of what he was about to do. Dr. Thomas said that masturbation was healthy, that reclaiming his sexuality would help in his recovery. He couldn’t stand the thought of anyone walking in on him while he jacked off in bed, so a shower was his only other option. Making sure he’d locked the bathroom door, he turned and pulled back the curtain. The water felt

Aaron

 

pleasant on his naked skin in a way he didn’t quite remember feeling before.

Stalling, he grabbed the shampoo and washed his hair. Nothing about the situation felt sexy. It felt forced and uncomfortable, like he was doing it just to prove to himself that he could. With a growl of frustration, he grabbed the bodywash from a ledge in the back and let a bit pool in his palm. Foregoing the washrag, he rubbed his hands together to lather them and ran his hands over each opposite arm. Closing his eyes, he drew in a shaky breath as his fingers slid across his bare chest. The jolt of arousal when his fingers trailed across his nipple surprised him. He hadn’t expected to ever feel that spark again.

BOOK: Aaron
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