Catch the Thunder

Drop

For more information - http://www.bdsmwiki.info/Drop

Audio drama: http://chirb.it/ndPJ1d

The Monday after their time at the club, Freed had been sore to sit for too long at the office. He kept getting up, walking to the water cooler, roaming around holding a file and trying to look busy, rather than sitting and fidgeting in his chair. He figured it was just the ache in his ass and the adrenaline that came after a scene. He went home that day, ate a little more than usual, and collapsed into bed early. Laxus was still caring for him, knowing they went far, so he tucked Freed in and watched a bit of TV on his own before bed.

But Tuesday, it was all different.

Freed was still sore, although nowhere near as bad. He was hungry and jittery, though. Despite a large dinner the night before and a hearty breakfast, Freed kept leaving to buy snacks to eat at his desk. He anxiously tapped his pencil on his desk until a coworker snapped at him. He thought maybe he made his coffee too strong, except he also felt paranoia. He jumped at noises. When the printer made a loud beep, Freed cried out in surprise.

"Are you okay?" asked Macao, the senior manager, as he walked by carrying a stack of papers.

Freed's words rushed out. "Too much coffee, sir. I'm terribly sorry." Inside, his mind was in a panicked state of chaos. 'Oh my God, am I going to get fired, will he tell my father, will I be humiliated in front of the whole company, will he really fire me, banish me, disown me...?'

"Cut back on the caffeine, kid," Macao chuckled, and he walked on.

"Y-yeah," Freed answered, laughing nervously. He looked down. His hands were trembling from the burst of fear. "What the hell is happening?" he whispered to himself.

Just before lunch, Freed felt himself dropping hard and fast. The hyper panic mode of that morning turned into a mindless daze. He kept staring at his screen and could not figure out what the words meant. He clicked around a spreadsheet but kept forgetting how to enter the data.

Only then did Freed realize what was happening: sub-drop. After intense BDSM, the chemical chaos of endorphins and adrenaline could mess with the emotions and physical body. It explained his hunger, his restlessness, paranoia, and now this sudden confusion and depression sinking in his stomach. Freed fled to the restroom, hid in a stall, and pulled out his phone. The time it took for Laxus to answer seemed like an eternity.

Finally, there was a click. "Hey, Freed," came the familiar voice.

"Laxus," he whispered desperately. "I ... need you."

The deep voice went instantly stern. "What's going on and where are you?"

"At work. I ... I'm not doing well."

"Are you sick?"

"It's..." How could he say it in public? "I'm dropping, Laxus. Dropping hard."

"Shit," he hissed. "How bad is it?"

"I ... don't know. It's ... dammit, it's like I'm just sinking. It's never been this bad."

"Ya almost on lunch break?"

"In twenty minutes."

"I can be there in twenty-five. There's a park near your work, right? Meet me there. I'll bring food. Now, listen to me. I love you," he said in such a gentle tone, Freed felt the tension in his shoulders loosen. "I love you very much. I'm coming for you, and I want to hold you. We'll hold each other. I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll help you to feel better, because I love to see you smile, Freed. I want to help you smile and feel happy again."