After the End Ch. 22 by RobinZephyr
Discover the captivating allure of 'After the End Ch. 22,' a gripping gay erotic sex story that explores passion, desire, and unexpected connections. Delve into the thrilling narrative that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Perfect for fans of LGBTQ+ romance and steamy tales!<br/>
Author’s note:
This is the tenth and last chapter of After the End – Part 3, the final novel in my dystopian erotic romance trilogy. If you enjoy intensely provocative sex with a power play twist, handsome male heroes in emotionally satisfying relationships, and unconventional happily-ever-afters — you are in the right place! These books are full-length, publication-quality, and currently being offered free of charge. 🙂
At this time, the story has reached its planned conclusion and I do not anticipate releasing any additional material. It’s been a delight to develop these characters and their journeys over the past six years (of my life and theirs). Only time will tell whether my own journey includes any more creative writing.
Descriptions of each book can be found in my bio by clicking my user name. Feel free to drop in on specific chapters or sections based on your mood or interest, but the dramatic tension is strongest if you start from the beginning of Part 1. If you liked any of the books, I do recommend you check out the others. As always, special thanks to those who comment or email your reactions and feedback. It’s truly meaningful to be able to share these experiences with you.
Content warning: This chapter depicts characters processing intense, distressing emotions related to the following: violent armed conflict (war); gun violence, homicide, and traumatic grief; imminently life-threatening injury, emergency medical treatment, and hospitalization; and death of a committed romantic partner. This chapter also depicts a sex scene involving relatively demanding physical and psychological domination plus penetration under bondage (all executed consensually within loving, respectful relationships and agreed-upon boundaries).
Tags for this chapter include: #bisexual male, #dystopia, #novel, #romantic, #polyamory, #triad, #submission, #domination, #bound, #male submissive
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Graham:
When Avery told me how close I’d come to losing not just one but both of my partners, it made me physically ill. I could obviously see that Julian was deeply shaken by the events of last week, but it hadn’t occurred to my darkest dreams that he would have chosen to follow one loss immediately with another. Maybe it was morbid of me, but I’d always thought that was a benefit of having two partners: If something happened to one, at least you’d have the other. You wouldn’t be alone.
But I had been alone, completely. During those awful days and nights, during the hours of surgeries and transfusions and waiting to see if my sweet boy would survive the attack, I might as well have been a ghost myself. No one had been real to Julian except his spouse. I knew he was scared, but if the worst had transpired, the thought of him deserting me forever and weathering frigid New England winters on his own chilled my bones as if I, too, were stranded in a blizzard.
Whatever conversation they had that night without me thawed Julian at least enough to express remorse the next morning and to resume a semblance of our relationship. On the surface, things went back to normal — he withdrew his objections to sharing the bed, and he at least responded when I spoke to him. But the distance that had opened during last week’s crisis persisted. He busied himself with Avery’s care and with work, on the excuse of having missed so much, and he brushed off my attempts to talk to him about anything that actually mattered. Despite physically occupying the same bedroom, on an emotional level I still felt confined to the formal parlor, treated as a guest rather than family.
If I put aside my own sense of betrayal, I thought I understood why nearly losing one of us could have caused Julian to withdraw from the other. Acknowledging vulnerability had never been his strong suit, and few things make a person more vulnerable than the prospect of bereavement. Still, I found it…extraordinarily difficult, after all these months when I thought I’d finally succeeded at winning his heart, to watch him wall it off from me again. To deny himself the support he was entitled to, even while he offered it in unlimited quantities to Avery.
Julian seemed to accept my devotion to his husband. But I didn’t know how to make him see that what he and I felt for Avery, I felt for him too. As desperately as we’d both wanted to take away Avery’s suffering in the hospital, I’d wanted to take away Julian’s just as much. And no less than he hated even the briefest separation from his spouse, I hated this separation from him. It was so frustrating, not to be allowed to comfort him when he was obviously still hurting, as surely as our youngest partner’s bullet-torn belly was.
Worst of all was his total avoidance of physical contact. Not with Avery — only with me. Julian put forth a concerted effort not to let it look deliberate; he kept constantly on the go during the day, and at home he was clever in shielding himself behind post-surgical recovery logistics. Yet if I did manage to offer so much as a clasp on the shoulder, it only seemed to add to his distress. He wouldn’t show it openly, but his aversion to my touch was perfectly palpable, which pierced me as deep as any gunshot could.
I assumed initially that some kind of equilibrium would be restored once we adjusted to our new routines. As the days went by, I grew increasingly frightened, having to wonder if the change was permanent. It wasn’t Julian’s tolerance I yearned for; it was his love. The thought of having to settle for this half-measure twisted my gut as I lay awake for hours in the dark, Avery’s body a blockade between us. I ached to cross over, craving closeness so badly it was actually painful. But only Julian had the power to choose where I belonged in his life.
“I want to do a scene,” Avery announced one evening less than a week after his release from hospital. The three of us were sitting against the headboard, weaving our way through pre-bedtime space that never used to be awkward. Avery and I still chatted easily, but even when Julian participated rather than picking up a book he’d read five times, his responses too often came across stilted.
“A sex scene?” I asked, surprised. “Didn’t Vik say you’d need more recovery time?”
“It’s not for me,” he replied. “It’s for you two.”
I glanced at Julian, but he kept his features masked and his mouth shut.
“It might be…a little soon for that,” I offered warily. “But what did you have in mind?”
“It wouldn’t be today,” Avery said. “I would want you both to have time to prepare. But…I don’t like how things are.” He turned to the partner on his right. “Julian, you said you would still be with Graham, but you’re not. You’re in the same room, but you’re not together. I know that’s hard for him, and I’m pretty sure it’s hard for you too. It’s definitely hard for me. I don’t think you understand how it feels for us, that you basically cut him out of the triad when he hasn’t done anything wrong.”