She shook him and checked his breathing. It was soft and shallow, and he did not wake up. Ann burst into tears, sobbing as she dialed 911. Her world collapsed in on her as she frantically conveyed information and answered questions on the phone. She screamed at the operator to hurry. She crawled into bed with Brandon and hugged him tightly, hating herself and not understanding the situation she found herself in.
The hospital room was quiet and dimly lit. Ann sat in a chair, mentally exhausted as she watched Bran sleep. They had pumped his stomach and mitigated the effects of the narcotic, leaving him looking frail laying in the bed. The doctor had walked her through the steps they would have to take with him, giving him a psych evaluation, possibly temporarily committing him for his own safety, depending on the results of the exam.
She was torn with the emotions of loving her son so deeply it hurt but also fear that he might disclose the cause of his actions as an inappropriate relationship with his own mother. It wouldn’t matter; she told herself. She would endure any stigma, any embarrassment if it meant her son was okay and would recover. She knew in that moment she couldn’t live without him. That stark realization flipped something in Ann and she knew that if she could reestablish some trust with her son, she would go along with his desire for a relationship that went beyond that of mother and son.
She moved out the chair to stand at the bedside, watching him. Glancing over her shoulder, she slipped her hand under the bed covers, finding his gown and moving it aside. She took his flaccid penis in her fingers, marveling at the softness of it and how it could get so hard. As she fondled him, she felt him grow in her hand and looked at his face to see if he was waking. He remained asleep as she stoked him under the covers to full turgidity. She explored his hardness, feeling herself get wet and she realized she had been resisting something that she had wanted badly. Something wrong perhaps, but this was worse than whatever else could have resulted. Standing in this hospital room, her son almost dying. Fuck convention, right? The thought was freeing, she realized.
Ann was tempted to bring Bran to climax there in the hospital room, but realized she was being reckless, her feelings all over the place. She adjusted his gown and covers and sat back down, waiting for him to wake.
Eventually, Brandon’s eyes opened. He stared at his mother sitting beside him, trying to discern what she was thinking. Was she pissed at him? Sad? Something else? “Um, hey. How much trouble am I in?”
Ann stood and hugged him tightly. “Baby, you’re not in trouble. I mean, the doctors are going to have to evaluate you. You know, for mental stuff.”
“Shit. Are they going to lock me up in a mental ward?”
“Not if you can convince them you’re no longer a danger to yourself. Are you?”
“I don’t think so?”
“Bran… I did have a realization while I sat in here with you. I want to try again.”
Brandon looked at her warily. “Try what again?”
“Our special relationship, dear.”
Brandon looked hurt and vulnerable lying there, dark circles under his eyes. “You’re just saying that. You know, ’cause you’re afraid I’ll off myself.”
“No, Bran. That’s not it at all. Almost losing you made me realize how much I Iove you. And that includes our most intimate moments.” She paused, willing him to believe her. He stared at her, looking cautious. It seemed she would have to earn his trust back. She slipped her hand back under the cover and gave his cock a little fondle.
“I touched you while you were sleeping. I couldn’t help myself.”
“You did? Is my gown a mess?” He raised the sheet to look.
“I just played with it a little bit, don’t worry. If I didn’t expect a nurse to come in here in any minute, I’d give you a welcome back to the world blowjob.” She winked at him as she stroked him back to fully erect. Just then a nurse came in and Ann sat down, hurriedly. If the nurse noticed Brandon’s erection, she gave no sign of it, checking his vitals and leaving again.
The next day, Brandon was able to go home, passing the evaluation, blaming the episode on being stupidly dramatic about a breakup with his girlfriend. The doctors told Ann that even though Brandon wasn’t an apparent danger to himself at the moment, attempting suicide over a breakup wasn’t normal and he needed to see a therapist and possibly get on some medication. Ann signed as she thought about the costs but also knew her son could benefit from therapy for a variety of reasons.
“I made your favorite for dinner tonight, Bran. Enchilada pie.”
“Thanks, mom.”
“How are you, Bran? I mean, how far away from normal are you right now?”
“I think I’m okay.”
“Do you need some space?”
“I’m good, mom. I’m looking forward to dinner with you, honestly.”
“I love you so much, Bran.” She kissed him chastely on the forehead, paused, then moved her mouth down to his, giving him a loving, lingering kiss on the lips.
Brandon felt his pulse race as she kissed him, still afraid to trust this new reality, “Love you too, mom.”
They sat and ate, chatting softly about school and his impending therapy sessions. When they came to a lull in the conversation, Ann asked him a question. “I asked you if you needed space earlier. Would you like to sleep in my room tonight?”
Brandon looked up in surprise. “Yeah, I would like that.”
The two of them headed to Ann’s room, hand in hand.
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