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After another toxic boyfriend — because you apparently have no luck with men, you had decided to just abandon relationships altogether, only looking for ONSs from then on.
It worked out fairly well, sure, sometimes these guys were assholes too, but at least there were no expectations.
That was up until you met up with a guy named John MacTavish. Scottish, dark hair, muscular. Incredibly handsome. You didn’t care to find out more about him, ultimately, you thought to yourself, you’d move on to someone else.
That was how you landed in bed, his body collapsing on yours, both of you panting as you calmed down from the high. You were laying over and under the tangled sheets, hair damp with sweat, wrists red from where he had pinned them on the mattress.
When he moved, getting himself off you and pulling out, you waited a few more seconds before sitting up and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, getting up. You were slightly trembling as you picked your clothes from the floor, but nothing too serious. You had been worse after sex before; this was probably very high on your inner rating list.
John's voice pulled you from your thoughts: “Bonnie? Where are you going?” He sounded confused, almost offended.
You turned around to face him, thinking he must be joking. But no, his face reflected the emotion you’d recognised in his voice.
He now sat up too, looking ready to go after you. “Was I too rough? Did you not enjoy it?”
Now it was your turn to be confused. Of course you’d enjoyed it.
“No, I enjoyed it. It was very good.” You said, while straightening the sleeve of the top you pulled off in such haze that it was twisted, not looking up at him.
You heard the rustling of the bed sheets as John stood up, coming up to you and plucking your clothes from your hands, placing one hand on your back and pushing you to bed.
Your inner alarm went off at that. You made it clear you wanted to leave, yet he tried to get you back to bed. Your exes and the men that were lower on your ONS-rating-list had done the same.
You quickly pushed him away, trying to get your clothes back and scramble to the door, but he held you back by your wrist, looking almost… concerned?
“Are you sure? You’re still trembling and I feel that’s my fault.”
You wanted to push him off again, but his worried voice and expression threw you off. You didn’t try to pull away again, standing still. His grip on your wrist loosened.
“I’m fine. This is the part where I leave, I’ll be fine.” You assured him. Normally, guys would try to get you to leave as quickly as possible when they were done, but seemingly John had other plans.
“You want to leave? You don’t like aftercare?”
You furrowed your brows at his words. “Aftercare? What’s that?”
His lips parted slightly as he blinked a few times in shock. “You don’t know what aftercare is?”
You shook your head. If you’d been with a different guy, you’d be on the street by now, calling an Uber.
“Aftercare’s when you relax afterwards, coming down together, making sure the other one is comfortable.” He explained to you, still shocked you didn’t know.
Before he explained this, you had never heard about aftercare. Another thing normal people in normal relationships apparently do, another thing your exes didn’t do.
John placed the hand on your back again, much more gentle this time, pushing you back to the mattress, pulling you down into the sheets with him. You should probably have tried to get away again, but you were intrigued.
He made sure you were laying comfortably before getting up again and vanishing into the bathroom.
“‘Be back in a sec.”
You heard the faucet running, then John came back again, a washcloth in his hand.
He got one the bed with you and started cleaning the mess between your thighs with careful motion. The fabric was nice and soft, damp with warm water, you closed your eyes, sinking slightly more into the mattress.
When John stopped his ministrations, you almost sighed at the loss of contact. He got up again, disappearing behind the bathroom door once more. You contemplated if now was the time you’d get up, but John returned, slipping back under the covers with you. One arm encircled your waist loosely, the other carded through your hair.
You had done things like this a multitude of times, but somehow, it was different now. You tried to fight the exhaustion that came with this type of thing, falling asleep in a stranger's bed, let alone in their arms wasn’t safe, however, your eyes slipped shut from the exhaustion. As you fell asleep, the last thing occupying your mind was the gentle touch of Soaps fingers in your hair.