Dear Nash,
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve reread yourlast letter, dreaming about having you kiss me all over. I think about you when I’m alone in my bed, and my body aches for you. I dream about your hands, your mouth, your hard cock pressing inside me. Fuck, I want you, Nash.
I want you to hold me down and make me feel you. I want you to fill me up and hold me tight all night. I want to scream your name while you fuck me into the mattress, and then I want you to growl into my ear that I’m yours as you come.
Fuck, I’m horny. I wish you were here. I just made myself come after writing that, and all I thought about was you. We may have to have a very private video call soon, babe. On second thought, no. I want our first time to be the day I can finally come home.
I was thinking about this the other day, how I’ve started thinking of Fenside Common as home since your birthday. I don’t think I’ve thought of anywhere as home since I was living with Grandma. That’s down to you and your incredible family, and I’m beyond grateful.
I need to go and clean up now. I’ll think of you in the shower. Maybe I’ll get myself off again while I’m hot, and wet, and soapy.
You’re in my heart, babe. Every day.
Your little rabbit.
xx
My best friend got engaged.
Rain called me a couple of weeks ago to tell me that Aidan took him sailing and proposed while they were out on the water. Lots of sweet words and solid affirmations were made, and I have no doubt that they both cried a tear or two.
I can’t describe how happy I am for Rain. He’s discovered the joy of Gay Groom as a search term on Pinterest, and because he shared his board with me, I get very regular notifications of new pins. Like… all day. Every day. I wake up to them. I go to sleep with them. They haunt my every waking moment.
I don’t mind it, though. Totally don’t mind.
The truth is, I really don’t. It means I’m able to be a part of this huge step in his life from a distance and support him through it. He and Aidan don’t want to wait long, so at least I know the pins will slow soon.
And today, I’m waiting in the concourseat Coventry station, waiting for him to get off the train so we can celebrate. When we started talking about stag do ideas, all he wanted to do was come to Coventry, stay with me – John is escaping to Andrew’s as we speak – and have a takeaway and wine night with me and Emma. That’s it.
I’ve just finished checking my phone for the hundredth time in my excitement to see him, wondering if he’s texted to say he’s lost or can’t find me, when I look up, and he’s right in front of me.
I let out a high-pitched squeal and throw my arms around him. We talk all the time, either by text or video call, and I mean every single day. But there is nothing so good as having him here in person. He gives great hugs, warm and comforting, just like him.
“Hi, babe,” he chuckles into my ear as I squeeze the life out of him. He doesn’t hug me back, hands too full of bags to go around me. “I’d ask how you are, but I spoke to you last night and this morning.”
We laugh as I release him and take his backpack from his hand before looping my arm through his and leading us outside. We walk the short distance to John’s house, enjoying the warmth of the summer sun as it risesto its peak. Rain is regaling me with a tale of the couple sitting in the seats in front of him, having very sexual text conversations on their phones. He, of course, peeked through the gap in the seats so he could tell me all the tea.
“All I’m gonna say is straight people are gross,” he complains around a curled upper lip and scrunched nose.
I snort a laugh.
“Right?”
I open the gate to the small front garden, and before I can even get it closed behind Rain, he’s engulfed in a tiny mass of boobs, blue hair, and bad language.
“Finally! How fuckin’ long does a train from cabbage land take? Jesus, I’ve been waitin’ around here with three wine glasses and no fucking patience for hours.”
“I left twenty-five minutes ago, drama queen,” I say, rolling my eyes affectionately.
“I wasnae talking to you. C’mon, Rain, let’s get a drink while this one makes us some lunch.”
“Lemme tell you about these two kinky fuckers on the train,” Rain replies, voice trailing off the farther he goes into the house.
I stand on the doorstep watching with a grin on my face as my two best friends head inside, Emma’s arm around Rain’s waist, his around her shoulders.
Fuck, I love these two idiots.
Four hours, three bottles of wine, and two pizzas – one with ham and pineapple, obviously – later we’re all a bit drunk, fat, and happy, wearing our pjs on the sofa. Well, I’m snuggled up in Nash’s hoodie, as always, but it’s become a staple part of my comfies.
