“Don’t stop.”
I wait for just a second. Just for me. I slide my palms up his calves, need to touch him, hold on to him, hold him tight.
Slowly, I pull out, only to thrust hard once more. He feels familiar and yet so new. I look at him, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open. The little crease between his eyebrows.The hair on his legs tickles my palms.
Everything looks like it used to, everything feels like it used to. Nothing is like it used to be. The scars of the last few years run deeper than I realized before. I missed him, was searching for him in all these men I fucked to fill the hole he left behind. I longed for that one feeling that I only understand now. For a connection that is so much more than just sex, because we were never just lovers.
First we were teammates, then we were friends, and finally we were a couple. A grown entity. Not David and Louis, but us. With every touch, life returns to this little ivy plant, whose vines David cut so brutally six years ago right at the root. Its tendrils have become stiff and woody over time, dead and hopeless, yet they still bound me to him with no chance of escape. New green branches are winding their way up now, strengthening what we’ve always had and forming new connections we don’t know yet.
It’s beautiful and at the same time it hurts so much. Tears well up again. There’s excitement about where we are now, the thrill of what lies ahead, and there’s pain and fear of the past, and the awareness that we’ll never be the same again. I mourn what we were, look forward to what we will be, and I let myself fall into the here and now.
Chapter 49
David
25 years
He’s crying again. His face changes every second between pain, relief, and pure euphoria. Only now do I really understand what I did to him and what it cost him to respect my wish to let me go.
Thick tears run down Louis’s cheeks and drip onto my stomach every time he thrusts hard. It hurts to see him like this, stabbing me deep in the chest like a knife. It’s my fault, and at the same time, it makes me incredibly happy to see him like this again. His eyelids flutter. It’s his sign that he’s close and I’d better start using my hand.
“I...”
“Shh, I know.”And with those words, I grab my cock. A soft whimper accompanies his next thrust. It doesn’t take much to get me where Louis wants me to be, and the next time he brushes hard over my prostate, I fall over that imaginary edge into a delirium of warmth and bliss. My cock squirts and my ass pulsates, holding Louis tight, never wanting to let him go.
I watch his every movement, every blink, feel his whole body tense up. When he comes, his moans turn into a tear-choked cry, his whole body trembling and twitching. I let my legs fall further apart, pull Louis toward me, and his head falls onto my chest.
Once again, all floodgates break, and shaken by tears, he clings to me. And I hold him as tightly as I can, in a desperate attempt to prove that I will never let him go again.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so terribly sorry for everything.” I murmur the words into his hair over and over. My tears are silent, just running down my temples, but my heart is breaking. What have I done?
I knew he was afraid to get back with me again, but he never said a word about how he felt back then. Now I know that I broke him, and then again when it became clear that I wasn’t out. I knew what I had done to myself, but Louis always seemed so strong.
His cock goes limp inside me and he grabs the condom before pulling out. We didn’t use them in the past. I know he had sex with other men, a lot of sex. I also know that other men could never give him what he was looking for. Still, it stings. I always loved the feeling of his cum filling me up and then dripping out of me again.
My fingers gently glide through Lou’s curls, my other hand strokes up and down his spine until his breathing calms down,settles into a steady rhythm, and I know he fell asleep from exhaustion.
As much as I’d like to stay in bed, I have to clean myself up; I can’t sleep like this. Carefully, I roll Louis off me, slip into my boxer shorts, and sneak out of the room. The door clicks shut just as someone clears their throat behind me. Startled, I turn around and see Paul leaning casually against the kitchen counter.
“Water?”
“Uh, yes, please, in a minute. I... I just need to go to the bathroom first.”
“That way.” Smiling, he points to the door at the end of the hallway, and I follow his directions. The bathroom is beautiful, with matte, dark tiles and elegant ceramics. The sink is set off with wood, the rainforest shower is completely glass-enclosed, and there’s a freestanding bathtub against the wall.
“Chic, isn’t it?” And again I flinch. Paul is standing close behind me in the doorway. “I’ve never had a bathroom like this in my life. When I first came in here, I thought I was in a movie.”
My parents tend to go for more is more, with marble and gold faucets. This simple elegance isn’t my mother’s style, but the bathroom is actually beautiful.
“Ah, you have money too, don’t you? Or you’d be more impressed by all this.” Paul’s not wrong; the apartment is very much like my own home. My parents had a small house renovated for me, and I just nod silently.
“You can take a towel from here. Have fun.” Fifteen minutes later, I come out with a towel around my waist. Paul is back in his place in the kitchen.
“It’s nice here.”
“I feel like I’m living in a palace. Without Louis, I’d probably still be on the streets.” I’d like to ask, but I don’t dare. “And you had fun?”
Paul turns around, grabs a large glass from the cupboard above him, and holds it under the tap. Memories come flooding back. Even back then, Louis always drank tap water, not the expensive Himalayan stuff my mother orders. I always admired his fathers’ modesty in some way.
