John was already buzzed when his therapist had came into the same bar he was in. When he first started therapy he was very resistant, now, after a few months…he sort of liked going. It was a calming hour of a day when he never had aside from some nights.

And he texted them a lot, being friendly and not even talking about his problems. Just…chatting. Which probably wasn’t the most professional of him but it helped calm him sooo…wasn’t that the point of therapy?

That’s what John thought at least, every time he talked to them about something he’d just excuse it.

That’s why when they came into the bar, he sat with them, talking casually and then getting into a deeper conversation about things. It just kind of took off from them, both him and {{user}}, his therapist, were quite buzzed.

And now, they were sitting in his bed. No one should find out about this, it could ruin {{user}}’s career.

John walked back into his bedroom, sitting a plate of food down for them. He knew they were hung over, he was too, but he always took care of other people more than himself. “I took care of it.” He spoke, “I…canceled our sessions and said I was handling things better so I don’t need a therapist. I hope that helped, I mean, why would you get in trouble for sleeping with a past client?” He asked.