WARNING: Although this mentions real people, this is in NO WAY a real situation or an inferred situation. This never happened, never will happen, and is not to imply that it even could happen. For entertainment purposes ONLY.

The light is brighter in here than I like, and I roll over, burying my face in the pillow. The smell is different, the bed feels different, it’s too warm and…

At first I don’t realize where I am, then it all comes back with screaming clarity.

“You’re here,” this soft voice says into my ear, breath brushing against my skin. I feel my hair combed back over my face, smoothed behind my ear.

I don’t open my eyes, just nod a little into the pillow. I didn’t leave. I stayed. But I didn’t think about this when we stumbled into bed last night. I didn’t think about mornings or days, I only could grasp nights and sex. Couldn’t see past the fucking, the kisses, the satisfaction of getting exactly what I knew I’d been craving.

“You gonna go now?” the voice says again, a rasp cutting the edge and biting at me. I know he expects me to fuck this up. I know he almost wants me to, because I think it’d be easier that way for both of us.

I twist my head around on the pillows and open my eyes.

He’s staring at me, thumbnail stuck between his teeth in that gesture that’s all Randy, blue eyes flicking across my face.

“You want me to go?” My tongue is dry in my mouth and my voice comes out hoarse.

He shakes his head slowly, then rolls onto his stomach and flops his head down on his pillow. blond hair flies up all around him, then settles on the pillow case and across his forehead.

He watches me, studying my face and I’m almost at the point of being uncomfortable when suddenly he lets a slow smile cross his lips.

“There are benefits of staying, you know,” he props himself up and brushes his hair out of his eyes.

I smile back and follow his gaze. “Oh yeah? Like what,” I let the words fall off my tongue before I’m even aware of what I’m saying. Can I actually be here and saying these things?

He pushes on my shoulder with the butt of his hand, rolling me onto my back. Watching me, giving me this look, almost like he thinks I’m going to suddenly scramble out of bed.

But I’m not doing that.

He sits up and bites on his thumbnail again, considering. He does this when he thinks, when he’s unsure. I know that gesture, I’ve watched him make it a hundred thousand times. Little furrow of the brow, and the thumbnail goes between his teeth.

He puts his palm on my chest and curls up a handful of the sheet then slowly drags it down my stomach… he’s not looking at what he’s doing, he’s just watching me, his eyes solidly on mine. I know he’s gauging my reaction, trying to see if I’ll flinch. Trying to see if the bright lights of the morning make me feel any different.

And maybe they would, if I even had the slightest understanding of how I felt in the darkness of his apartment last night. How I felt as I pushed against him on his old couch, how I felt when I fucked him hard and fast in his bed with the moonlight cloaking me. All I knew last night is that I wanted it and it felt good.

Right now all I know is that when I look at him, hair all pressed to the side of his head, naked pale skin and erect nipples, that I guess I do feel a little different than I did last night.

Right now I guess I feel honest, somehow. That’s it, just honest. The sunlight lies bright across my face and I know I can’t hide anything, and so I try hard not to, for once.

I pull in a breath, and he continues dragging the sheet down my body, his fingers brushing against my chest as he does. I wait for it, know he’ll touch my dick, and the anticipation of it is enough to start the blood rushing inside me. The sheet pulls lower and lower and lower, until my nest of pubes is revealed. He flicks his eyes to my crotch, then back on mine, waiting to see…

Then the sheet is around my thighs and my cock is free and erect. His mouth drops open the slightest bit and his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

“Good answer,” he says, the side of his face pulling up into a smile. Somehow I don’t remember ever being asked a question.

He bends down a little and breathes in, pulls the scent of my cock into his nose, his mouth. Eyes tear from mine and he stares at my dick and lowers his head, slides closer to me, then climbs up on top of me, pushing my thighs apart so he can lie down between them.

I watch him, try to suck in breath after breath and hope to fuck I don’t look desperate. But it’s hard, really hard… he just keeps watching me and looking at me, and I can’t help but stare at him back.

His hands press down into my pubes, palms flat out against my skin, warm and a little damp. Then he pulls his hands closer, closer, lowers his head, oh God, blond hair falling across his face and I close my eyes and tip my head back and grip the sheets underneath me hard, try not to arch my back and I wait for that first touch…

I feel his breath first and then I’m overcome so fast, he takes me into his mouth, so soft and wet and warm and I choke out a cry, my back pushing up off the bed, straining to get more of my cock inside his mouth.

He laughs in his throat and the vibration rocks through me – I gasp out something, and I don’t remember what I said, what words left my mouth, but it was enough for him to reach over and grip my fingers tightly in his. He runs his thumb over the back of my hand and pulls my cock deeper into his mouth, sucking me softly.

I’ve never felt anything like this before – he’s… God, he’s fucking amazing and fearless, that’s the only word I can think of. He buries his face in my crotch and lets me slide down into his throat, breathing through his nose as he does. His fingers tighten on mine and he lifts my hand up and puts it on the side of his face… I let the pad of my thumb trace over the contour of his cheek, and tangle my fingers up into his hair as he slowly bobs up and down on my cock.

Christ, this feels good – too good, and I clench his hair into my fist and arch up into his throat. He pushes down on my hips with his palms and eases off my dick, leaving me panting and desperate.

I look down at him and he grins, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Watch me,” he whispers, and slides his lips down my cock again, gripping the base of my dick tightly in his fist. His fingers move quickly and his mouth and tongue work around my cock and I struggle to keep my eyes open, every glance of my dick slipping between his lips sending a rush through me. He moans in his throat and it buzzes through me and I feel kind of dizzy and euphoric and his hand disappears between his legs and then it’s the steady rhythm of his elbow against my knee as he jacks himself off and Christ the thought of him getting off on getting me off… oh fuck…

The orgasm tears through me, surprising me, consuming and overpowering me. I gasp for breath and expect to feel my own warm cum on my chest, but instead I feel his splashing against the inside of my thigh. I peel my eyes open and see him, my cock still buried between his lips, vibrating with every groan he keeps in his throat, eyes squeezed shut as he rides out the rest of his climax. He swallows hard and slowly pulls himself off my cock, wrapping his lips tight around me, taking every drop of cum with him.

Christ, he swallowed my cum. My eyes flutter shut and my heart double beats and I can’t get over how fucking hot that makes me feel.

He sighs contentedly and sits up, wiping the sheet half-heartedly at his cum on my thigh, then gives up and flops down beside me.

“You can use my shower,” he says through swollen lips, his eyes closed. He traces patterns on his chest with his fingers lightly.

“S’ok,” I say, and don’t think about how I kind of like the feeling of his cum on my skin.

It’s quiet in the room, and I listen to the cars outside on the street. I wonder what time it is, but know it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m warm and comfortable in his bed, and I don’t feel like getting out of it any time soon.

Minutes pass, and we lie here together listening to each other breathe. I try to sort through my feelings, but it’s pointless. I can’t categorize this. I can’t solve this. I can’t figure it out. I just know I want this. I need this. This makes me feel good. He makes me feel good. It’s like having a little secret that’s been found out and the relief of it is completely overwhelming.

He breathes deeply and I almost think he’s fallen asleep, but then he rolls over onto his stomach and looks at me.

“So what happens now?” he says, trying to smile, but I know he’s forcing it. Trying to joke, trying to kid, when I know that he’s completely serious. 

I shrug and mimic him, rolling onto my belly and bunching the pillow under my head. He blinks slowly, blond lashes over blue, and when his eyes meet mine again, I know I’m so close to fucking this up.

And more than anything right now, I don’t wanna do that. 

I suck my lips into my mouth and shrug again. “You tell me,” I mean it to sound flirty but it comes out serious. I guess I really mean it. I want him to tell me what I should do, because holy shit, have no idea.

He grins wickedly for a moment. “I could fuck you,” he says, and this time I know the smile is for real.

I raise my eyebrows, suddenly surprised at the rush that flows through me at those words. Christ, I never even thought about that before… well, that’s a lie, I have thought about it, but…

“I’m kidding Gale,” he says suddenly, barking it out loudly, and it makes me feel fucking awful. I don’t want him to feel like I’m just here to fuck him… like I’m just here to use him for what I want, and what I need. I don’t want him to think that I wouldn’t want that… wouldn’t want anything he wants to give me.

I roll onto my side and grab his hand, turning it palm up. He watches me, his eyes downcast, and I know he regrets saying anything. I don’t have the words to tell him it’s okay. I can’t say those things. Not yet.

Instead I hold his hand in mine, and slowly trace over the creases in his palm with my thumb, back and forth. His hands are smaller than mine. Paler. Shorter fingers and rough bitten nails. I know he’s fighting the urge to take his hand from mine and shove his thumbnail between his teeth.

I curl my fingers around the back of his neck. I’ve touched him a thousand times, but that was different. That was on camera, on stage. That was acting and playing. That wasn’t me. I didn’t feel anything – the character did, the camera did, the actors did. The words I spoke weren’t mine, the emotions false, the actions not true.

But this is me.

I pull him to me slowly and press my lips to his, taste him and me on his tongue and like it. Fucking love it.

And I don’t worry about days after. I just focus on now.