Two days before our scheduled flight I started to panic. I actually couldn’t believe I’d been okay up until this point.
I hated flying. Despised it. Didn’t really believe that humans should be up in the air at all. But. I did live in the 21st century and air travel was a necessary evil. Which I avoided whenever possible. Which is why I hadn’t actually stepped onto a plane in over fifteen years.
I’d always been an anxious flyer but as a child my parents had been able to reassure me and I’d never believed anything bad would happen. As an adult, I was less sure. I despised flying alone and never would do so again, after the experience I’d had in my early twenties when I’d unwittingly booked myself aboard a puddle hopper from Fredricton to Halifax and had a massive panic attack mid-flight. One that I’d expended enormous amounts of energy to hide from the other passengers in what felt like an OC Transpo bus with wings. Thank God the flight had only lasted fifty minutes or they’d have had to give me a sedative. As it was I almost fainted when we deplaned and I realized I was on solid ground again. Luckily I had a direct return on a big jet but I still clutched the armrests with white knuckles the entire time and had to consciously avoid hyperventilating.
Jeremy knew nothing of this. I didn’t want to tell him because it seemed so stupid and silly compared with what he had to deal with on a daily basis. Multiple sclerosis was an unpredictable disease and even on medication he could still wake up one day with a numb leg, or a blind eye, or a deaf ear, or any number of horrifying possibilities. But he didn’t let it scare him. He didn’t worry about any of it because he was living his life to the fullest. Now, if I could just do the same.
Dr. Acevidos had told me not to use any of the Xanax until the day of the flight, which I’d thought was a good idea at the time. Now I wasn’t so sure.
I did what I did whenever there was something I was worried about that I didn’t want to bother Jeremy with. I texted my sister, Frankie.
Me: Can you meet me for lunch today?
F: That depends…
Me: On what?
F: Who’s paying?
Me: Fine. Me.
F: Let’s go to Ciccio’s!!!
Me: Very funny. How about the Sir John A?
F: Fine. What time?
F: Is J coming too?
F: Oh o. What’s wrong?
Me: We’re fine. I’ll explain at lunch.
F: You’d better.
The Sir John A pub, a popular lunch spot, was already quite crowded when I arrived. There was no sign of Frankie so I found a small table near the back and ordered a pint. My fingers drummed nervously on the table while I waited and drank, and drank and waited. I ordered another beer and got out my phone to text her when she finally showed, waving at me from the entrance and making her way through the crowd to get to me.
“Phew. I guess this place is a hidden gem no more.” She put her purse down and slipped into the chair opposite me. “How are you?”
I ignored the question. “Do you want a beer?”
“Sure. Whatever you’re having,” she said, taking off her thin scarf and leather gloves. Even in late April Ottawa could surprise you with very cool weather. “Okay Martin. Spill.”
“Hold on.” I motioned to the server who came over and took Frankie’s drink order. After he’d left I gulped some of my beer and put the glass down. “Here’s the thing. You know that Jeremy and I are flying out to London on Friday.”
She nodded. “Yeah, you lucky bastard. Simon and I haven’t been anywhere in ages.”
I nodded. Yeah, yeah, yeah. “Frankie, I’m shitting my pants about boarding that plane.”
Her eyes widened. “Like, literally shitting your — “
“No! Like metaphorically shitting my pants. Although when it comes time to actually board the plane there might be real shit involved. I am that fucking scared.”
She stared at me, surprised. “What does Jeremy say?”
I looked down at my beer and shrugged.
“You haven’t told Jeremy! Oh, Martin, come on. He’d be the first to reassure you.”
“Frankie, I can’t tell Jeremy how fucking scared I am. It’s embarrassing. And ridiculous.” I took another sip of the comforting amber liquid. “Look, I know the statistics. I know that flying is safer than driving and all that jazz. I can’t explain why it scares me so much except that I really don’t want to be up there at all.”
The server brought Frankie her beer and she took a few sips while she silently assessed me. “So, tell Jeremy you don’t want to go,” she said finally.
“I can’t do that. I do want to go. I’m getting on that plane if it kills me,” I said, silently beseeching her with my eyes. “Problem is, it feels like it’s going to.”
Frankie shook her head. “Oh Martin. Did you talk to your doctor? There’s probably some medication that would help.”
I nodded. “I have a prescription for Xanax.”
“Okay. Well, that should work. Right?”
I shrugged. “I hope so. Problem is, what do I do in the meantime? Dr. Acevidos said not to take any until the morning of the flight.”
“What does the package insert say?”
I stared at her blankly.
“You didn’t read the package insert? Oh for Christ’s sake, Martin. I always read the package insert. Doctors and pharmacists don’t have the time to give you all the info about the drugs they prescribe.”
“Thanks, you’re making me feel so much better,” I said dryly.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” She reached into her back pocket and retrieved her phone. “Luckily, I’ve got Dr. Google in my pocket.”
After several moments of searching, Frankie passed me the phone. “There. You can take some now. Not too much – I’d even go half the regular dose for now. Just something to take the edge off. It’s safe.”
I read the information that Frankie had found from the manufacturer of Xanax, advising on the use of the drug. It did comfort me to know I could take some tonight. The relief must have shown on my face.
I nodded. “I think so. I mean, I will be.”
“I still think you should talk to Jeremy about this.”
“Maybe. But it’s not his job to take care of me.”
Frankie stared at me like she wanted to slap me. “Not his job to — Martin, he loves you. He’d be more than happy to help you with anything, you know that.”
Of course I knew that. But I shouldn’t need help. I was a grown man for Christ’s sake.
Jeremy was out when I got home. He’d texted me that he needed to pick up a few things for the trip and would grab supper on the go. So I reheated some of the stir-fry I’d made the night before and then popped half a milligram of Xanax, washing it down with a healthy glass of milk.
I hopped into the shower and let the warm water relax me while the drug had its desired effect. By the time I’d dried myself off and put on pair of PJ pants and a t-shirt I felt unbelievably better about everything. Thank you, Dr. Acevidos! And sleepy. But I didn’t want to go to bed yet. Now that I was feeling good I wanted to see Jeremy and talk about our trip.
He wasn’t home yet so I settled myself on the living room sofa and flipped channels until I decided on one of those home renovating shows with the annoyingly handsome host and his equally annoying wife. But I think I only watched it for five minutes before nodding off.
I woke up to someone pushing my shoulder gently and warm breath on my face. “Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up.”
Jeremy kissed me as I emerged from my nap and pressed his jean covered hard-on against my hip.
“Mmpgrf?” I mumbled, still in the throes of a drug induced sleep. But nothing woke me up quicker than my horny twenty-six year-old boyfriend.
“Oh Martin. You should see what I bought.”
My eyes flicked open and I brought them into focus. Seeing that familiar cheeky grin caused my dick to twitch.
“Hmmm?” I hummed, my hand finding the curve of his perfect ass. “What did you buy, naughty boy?”
Jeremy liked toys. Butt plugs, vibes, cock rings — you name it, he had it. And he was always adding to his collection. Our collection.
He held something in front of my face. It looked like a stainless steel kitchen implement but I knew better.
“What is that?”
His grin widened. “That, Martin, is a beautiful as fuck shiny new cock ring with a prostate ball attached.”
“You should really be on the home shopping network.”
He laughed, swinging the device on his finger so that the steel ball at the end of the crooked shaft swung back and forth, back and forth.
“I want you to put me in it,” he said hoarsely. His forehead crinkled. “Or put it in me. Or, I guess, both.”
I stared at him, my cock now fully hard. But we had a problem.
“How am I supposed to get that on you when you’re erect?”
Jeremy frowned. “Good point.” He sat back a bit, away from me. “Hmm. Well, I could take a cold shower.”
“Go for it. Get nice and clean for me.”
He grinned. “Kay. Wait here.”
“I’m not moving.”
I didn’t move and I didn’t fall back asleep, even though I felt so perfectly blissed out on that tiny amount of Xanax I could kiss Dr. Acevidos. Maybe I would, next time I saw him. Maybe I’d just needed some reassurance that the medication would work. Now I could genuinely feel more relaxed about the upcoming flight, even when the Xanax was out of my system. I was so glad I’d talked to Frankie and decided to take some.
By the time Jeremy returned, all soft and steamy from what seemed to have become a hot shower after the cold shower had fulfilled its requirement, I was ready for business.
I stood up and took his hand, eyeing him in his black boxer briefs. “Come to the bedroom, Gorgeous.”
He took my hand. “Okay, but you’d better get the damn thing on me soon or I’ll be hard again. Just the thought of it…”
“Okay, down boy. Give me a second.”
I led him to the bedroom, grabbing my phone on the way. I plugged it into the speaker and closed the curtains as the soft sounds of smooth jazz filled the room.
“Take your briefs off.”
He watched me as he stripped off the cotton boxer briefs and settled back on his elbows. His cock, mostly flaccid now, rested alluringly against his thigh.
“Here,” he said, with a wink, passing me the steel toy. “By the way, I’m clean everywhere.”
“How much did this cost, dare I ask?”
He raised his eyebrows. “It was on sale.”
“I’ll make it worth every penny,” he promised.
My cock throbbed as I grabbed the lube and kneeled beside him on the bed. “I’m sure you will.”
For some reason that should be obvious I had become an expert at getting cock rings on Jeremy. I got his prick through with a minimal amount of touching in order to keep him soft and then pulled each of his testicles through the ring until it nestled comfortably around his package. The steel ball had bounced against him as I’d positioned the ring and he slid down a bit and spread his legs, ready for the rest. Our eyes met and he lifted his chin, as if in challenge.
“Hold your horses,” I said, squeezing some lube onto my fingers and applying it to the ball and shaft of the device.
“How about I hold my cock instead?”
“You can do that too.”
He wrapped his hand around his already hardening prick and stroked it lazily while he waited.
“Look at you, all business,” he commented. “While I’m lying here waiting for you to sex me up.”
“Shhh. I’m trying to concentrate.”
He laughed, spreading his legs even more and watching me with a hooded gaze. I applied more lube to his puckered hole, making him moan.
“Fuck, Martin! Yes.”
I gave him a stern look and pressed the steel ball against him. Our eyes met as it sank into his eager ass. He hissed with pleasure and my mouth went dry.
“How does it look?” he asked. “Does it look hot?”
I nodded, unable to speak for a moment. It looked so hot.
I ripped my t-shirt off over my head and got out of my PJ pants in record time. Jeremy eyed my straining erection.
“Oooh, you definitely like it.”
“I definitely like it,” I panted, grabbing his thighs and tugging him down the bed so he lay flat. I bent and took his cock in my mouth.
He groaned, arching his back, twisting his fingers in my hair. “Oh my God,” he gasped. “It feels amazing.”
I gazed up at him, humming acknowledgement as I worked his prick with my mouth. I let go of one thigh and brought my hand under his balls, deftly flicking my middle finger against the steel shaft of the toy.
Jeremy cried out, then gasped. “Oh, do that again.”
I did it again, loving the sounds he made.
“Oh, Martin, I love that.”
I did it until my finger started to hurt. Then I let go of his dick and flipped him over roughly.
He stretched his arms out in front of him and bent his knees, bringing his plugged ass up in front of me. “Oh, fuck yeah.”
I spread his cheeks and groaned. The sight of the metal shaft disappearing into his ass made me so hard suddenly. I slapped his left cheek and he laughed.
“Am I a naughty boy, Martin?”
“You are so naughty,” I said, grabbing the lube and dripping some down the crack of his ass and onto my fingers. I just wanted to feel it. I wanted to feel that thing inside him.
“Stay still,” I said, because he was whining and wiggling so much. I felt underneath him. His cock was rock solid now.
He did his best, but as soon as I started to play with his hole he stretched back toward me. “Yessssss.”
“Be patient,” I warned.
“Hurry up,” he said.
I tickled his hole around the shaft of the toy, making him whimper and plead. Finally I pushed my thumb inside him alongside it.
He gasped and held his breath as I pulled it out, then pushed it in again.
“F-f-fuck! Oh God. Keep doing that.”
I did, enjoying his adorable sounds of pleasure, until I needed more.
But there was a problem. “I’m not fucking you with that in you,” I stated. “It’s not safe.”
He whimpered, but nodded. “F-f-fine. Okay. Then what?”
I assessed the situation, and decided quickly.
“You fuck me. Fuck me with that cock ring on and that ball in your ass.”
He looked at me over his shoulder, and grinned. “That was the original idea, Martin, but you got carried away.”
I nodded, so turned on I didn’t know what to do. “I know. I know.”
So Jeremy took over like I knew he would. He kneeled up in front of me, cock still wet with my saliva, and groaned as the ball shifted inside him. “On your back. I want to see your face.”
I nodded again, suddenly the obedient little bitch to Jeremy’s confident command. It was a place I loved to be.
I stretched out on my back beside him, handing him the lube. “Hurry up,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows and gave me a teasing smile. “Be. Patient.”
I had the decency to laugh, even though none of it was funny anymore. I needed him inside me. But he was in charge now.
His lubed cock pushed at my entrance firmly, finding some resistance. “Goddammit, let me in,” he whispered, slipping up along the crack of my ass and using his hand to push his cock down against my hole. “Let me in…”
I took a deep breath, gazing up at him, adoring the crease in his forehead as he concentrated on his task. I bore down and felt the head of his cock push inside.
We both gasped. I followed up with a groan as he pushed in deeper.
He moved forward, arms sliding beside me, pushing his cock into me until we were flush. My mouth hung open, my gaze held by his deep brown eyes and the expression of bliss on his face that matched my own.
We were quiet now, just enjoying the sensation of being joined so intimately. No words needed. He held my gaze as he began to rock against me, hitting the sweet spot with his practiced technique.
I’d been an anal virgin when we’d met, but Jeremy had taken the time to introduce me gradually to the joys of a good butt fuck. Now I was a convert.
I groaned and spread my legs wider to give him access.
“Oh yes. I love fucking you,” Jeremy murmured. “And this toy was worth every penny.”
I nodded frantically, feeling the pleasure build. “It was. It totally was. Sorry I’m such a tight wad.”
He chuckled. “Don’t apologize for being tight. I like you tight.” He thrust hard into me, showing me just how tight I was.
“Oh God. Harder,” I begged.
“Oh fuck yeah,” he moaned, speeding up like he’d been waiting for me to say it. I knew the toy was making him even crazier than he usually was when he fucked me. The steel ball would be rubbing against his prostate, I’m sure.
“Oh God, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come,” he said desperately, “I can’t stop…”
Instead of telling him it was okay because I was right on the edge too, I just reached between us and grabbed my cock, pulling once, twice and exploding as my orgasm ripped through me.
Jeremy cried out, plunging deep as he was overcome. He kept thrusting as he emptied into me for a long time.
Finally, we both stilled, the only sounds a wailing saxophone and our ragged breaths.
Eventually, Jeremy lifted his head and gazed down at me.
“I’ve really got to sign up for some product testing. Think of what we could get for free!”
I took another point five milligrams of Xanax the afternoon before the morning of our flight. It had worked so well the previous evening and I knew I wouldn’t sleep a wink without it.
Jeremy had to wake me up when the alarm went off at four thirty am. Our flight was scheduled to depart at eight thirty and we wanted to get to the airport the required three hours in advance. We’d spent the previous day packing and ensuring everything was ready. I’d decided to bring just my camera and one specialty zoom lens which I packed in my large wheeled suitcase with my clothes, shoes and other items. Jeremy filled a big canvas duffle bag with his necessities but his Copaxone needles were in his carry-on with an official letter from his neurologist. He’d been advised not to pack them in his checked luggage just in case the luggage got lost or rerouted. We made sure our passports and Jeremy’s meds and prescription papers were easy to access and we’d printed off our boarding passes.
“Hey, wake up sleepyhead,” Jeremy said, giving my face a gentle slap and a soft kiss. “Time to fly.”
I opened my eyes, waking with a sudden jolt of terror. I guess the Xanax had worn off, but at least I’d slept. The familiar feeling of my stomach churning and my synapses firing warnings got me up out of bed and into the shower. As soon as I’d dressed and eaten, I popped another point five milligrams and stashed the bottle in my zippered jacket pocket. I had no illusions that I could keep it a secret from Jeremy past the security line at the airport but I’d just play it off as a precaution. I wasn’t going to tell him I’d been taking them for a couple of days already. The half tablet had worked so well for me that I decided not to take the full one milligram dose that Dr. Acevidos had suggested.
Jeremy showered after me and we both dressed in comfortable clothes with slip-on shoes that were easy to toe off for the security check. We ate a hasty breakfast and gulped down quick cups of coffee before calling a cab. Jeremy wanted to use an Uber but I was old school.
“It’s going to cost twice as much,” he complained.
“I’ll cover it. It’s fine.” I was starting to wonder when the Xanax was going to kick in. I felt a little better than I had on first waking but the fear and rising panic was still there. Anyway, I could always pop another half tablet when we got to the airport.
The McDonald Cartier airport had undergone extensive renovations since I’d last been there and I hardly knew where anything was anymore. Luckily the signage was pretty good. Jeremy was practically bouncing with excitement as we headed over to the baggage check line.
When I saw the amount of people already lined up my anxiety made itself felt again. The half tablet of Xanax I’d taken didn’t seem to be working at all. Had I built up a resistance to it already? Maybe that’s why Dr. Acevidos had told me to wait until the day of the flight.
I told Jeremy I needed to use the bathroom and blamed the coffee. Of course, there were only automatic taps in the airport washroom. Luckily I located a water fountain. I swallowed another half tablet and hoped it would be enough.
Walking back to where Jeremy waited in the lineup I tried to calm my frantic thoughts with the belief that the meds would soon work to calm me down and everything would be fine.
“Are you okay?” Jeremy asked as I joined him.
“You look a little pale.”
“You’re not scared, are you?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“No. Why would I be scared? Air travel is safer than driving.” Except that if there is a problem, you’re thousands of feet in the air, rather than inches from the side of the highway.
Jeremy smiled. “I can tell you’re uncomfortable, Martin. It’s normal to be nervous.”
“You’re not nervous at all. You can’t wait to get up there.”
He shrugged. “I love to fly. Always have. Plus I’m excited to be travelling somewhere fun with you.”
The way he looked at me, and the beginning effect of the recent meds, made a calmness wash over me. I was with Jeremy and Jeremy would make sure I was all right.
That wonderful feeling lasted through the baggage check and the security screening. Luckily Jeremy had been busy opening his carry-on and showing the security officers his prescribed injectibles when I showed them my bottle of Xanax with the prescription on it and he hadn’t noticed. By the time he’d gone through the metal detector I had it safely stashed in my jacket pocket again. Once through security we settled ourselves in the departure lounge to watch the planes take off and land out of the huge windows.
All of a sudden, it seemed real. In an hour or so I would be inside one of those machines with no control over anything. What if the pilot had been drinking? What if he just wasn’t very good at his job? What if, despite all the safeguards, one of the other passengers was a hijacker? What if an engine stopped working, or worse, fell off?
The anxiety must have shown on my face because Jeremy asked me again if I was all right.
“Yeah, I just need to use the bathroom again.” I laughed. “Guess I’m a bit nervous.”
He smiled. “Once we’re up in the air you’ll be just fine.”
I blanched and walked over to the men’s room. Fuck these stupid meds. Why weren’t they working? Dr. Acevidos must have got the dose wrong. I was a decent-sized guy, maybe he didn’t realize how much I weighed. I’d gained some weight over the past couple of years. I mean, I was in my mid-thirties. That was normal, right?
My anxiety turned to anger as I grabbed the bottle of medication out of my jacket pocket and twisted the lid.
Maybe I was supposed to take a whole milligram at one time. Maybe that was the problem. Well, it couldn’t hurt to take one now. Obviously the half milligram dosing just wasn’t doing the job. And I had to get on that plane in an hour. I knew for sure that the only way I’d be able to do it would be if I was completely blissed out on Xanax.
I used the bottle of water I’d purchased from a vending machine to wash down one whole pill and stared at my reflection in the mirror. “Get a fucking grip, Martin,” I said firmly. “You’re going to be fine.” I tried to believe it. I didn’t. I tipped the pill bottle again and held another one milligram tablet in my palm. I stared at it for several moments and then decided if I took it I would be assured of being calm enough for the flight. I wasn’t really worried about anything else at that point. I tossed it back with another swallow of water.
I walked back to where Jeremy was sitting, reading his Fodor’s guide to London and looking as if he were going to a tea party and not onto a plane that would take us off the surface of the earth for six hours. I sank down and let my head rest against the back of the seat.
After about thirty minutes I began to feel so much better. Thank fucking Christ, it seemed like the Xanax was finally kicking in.
“Martin, time to board. Wake up.”
Someone was shaking me. I really didn’t want to wake up but I opened my eyes to be polite. Who was this guy? He was incredibly hot and so close to me.
“Hi,” I said. My voice sounded strange, like I was underwater.
The young man with short auburn hair and deep brown eyes gave me a weird look. “Hi. Let’s go.”
“You’re sexy,” I said, startled at my courage. I usually couldn’t talk to really hot guys.
“Thanks. Let’s go.”
“Where?” This hot guy was asking me to go somewhere with him and I was asking where? Was I insane? I wanted to go wherever he wanted to take me.
A strange, anxious look came over the kid’s features, but he still looked really cute.
“Martin, are you kidding me? We have to go to the departure gate. For our flight to London.” He spoke slowly and clearly. Then he looked panicked. “Are you having a stroke?”
A stroke? Why would I be having a stroke? Suddenly, somehow, I remembered the Xanax just as I realized that the man speaking to me was my young boyfriend, Jeremy. It was all very funny. I started laughing and stood up a little too fast. Jeremy caught my elbow as I wobbled.
“No, no, I’m not having a stroke. It’s the Fanax. I mean, the blanax. I mean, it’s the X-Xanax.” I laughed again. “I feel so awesome.”
Jeremy stared at me, his expression seeming to go through about five different emotions before he firmed his lips and grabbed my arm. “Why didn’t you tell me you were taking anti-anxiety medication?”
I shrugged, still smiling. It seemed irrelevant.
“How much did you take, Martin?”
I frowned. How much did I take? Point five first thing, then another point five, then a whole tablet, then one more. I think. How much was that? “Um, two pills? Actually, three. Three pills.”
“Can I see the bottle please?”
“Sure sexy.” I pulled the bottle out of my pocket and handed it to him.
He examined the label, looking at me with some concern. “It says you’re just supposed to take one tablet at a time.”
I shrugged. “Wasn’t working. It’s working now. I’m so happy.”
He gave me back the bottle giving me a death stare that only made him hotter. “Don’t. Take. Anymore.”
I shook my head from side to side to let him know I wouldn’t. “Don’t need to.”
“Come on. And for Christ’s sake try to act normal.”
He still had hold of my elbow and it seemed like he wasn’t going to let go. Even in my confused state, something about that resonated within me. We made it to the departure gate without too much trouble. Walking was easier once I got started. I felt like I was seeing things through a soft haze, except whenever Jeremy looked at me, he was crystal clear. In fact, I couldn’t take my eyes off him as we approached the gate.
When we got there he showed the boarding agent a piece of paper then turned to me.
“Martin? Where’s your boarding pass?”
He smiled and turned back to the agent, a plump, red-haired woman. “I’m sorry, I just asked him to marry me. He’s a bit loopy.”
The woman laughed and beamed at us. “Oh, that’s adorable!”
Had Jeremy asked me to marry him? Wow! Had he? What had I said? Why, yes of course!
I gazed wide-eyed at the woman. “I said YES!”
“Of course you did! May I see your boarding pass, please?”
Boarding pass, boarding pass, where was my boarding pass?
Jeremy reached into my jacket pocket but all he found was the bottle of Xanax. “Excuse me,” he said apologetically to the boarding agent, turning to face me. “Martin, is your boarding pass in your jeans pocket?”
Oh, probably. Yeah, that seemed likely. I fished in my pocket and came out with a piece of paper which I handed to Jeremy. “Is this it?”
Jeremy took the paper and held it out for the boarding agent to check. She looked it over and smiled at us. “Perfect. Thank you. And congratulations!”
As we left the gate I turned to Jeremy. “Are we getting married in London?”
He shook his head. “We’re not getting married, Martin.”
“But you just said — “
“Just be quiet and come with me.”
Wow. Maybe I should have said no. I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to marry him now. He was being so mean. Then I took another look at his ass. Well…
We walked down a long hallway, turned a corner, then another corner, then came to an oval doorway where a male flight attendant waited.
“Good morning, gentlemen. Welcome aboard Flight 499!” He said enthusiastically.
Jeremy pulled me forward. “Thanks.”
He found our seats quickly and practically pushed me into the one by the window. “You might as well sit there. You’re so fucked up you won’t even know we’re in the air.”
I stared up at him, mesmerized. “You are so hot when you’re angry.”
“Martin. Don’t even. Just shut up and go to sleep or something.”
Actually, that sounded like a great idea. “Kay. Goodnight, Jeremy.”
I heard him say “Goodnight, Martin,” with a slightly less angry lilt to his voice before I did just that.