What We Are

You have to go

June 1998

I entered my dressing room and he immediately plummeted onto my lips, holding my waist to his. "I wondered where you'd got to," I whispered up to him. Despite being clad in my platform shoes from the show, I remained considerably smaller than him. He laughed softly, "I thought I'd wait for you back here, I wanted to show you something..." My stomach clenched, I had a bad feeling. "Oh...What about when we get back to the hotel room? I need to get out of here!" I said, and he luckily seemed convinced, if not a little taken back. "Sure." He took my hand, and we went to find a ride.

The city lights dashed past me and as I looked out the window of the car, I thought of the many times I had rode alone in the backseat after a show, and the many times I would again after tonight. I would have usually been shaken from these toxic thoughts by being reminded of Lindsey's presence, but I simply fell deeper into the vortex that night, as I felt him leaning in to nuzzle my neck as I crafted childish shapes in the window's moisture.

When we entered the hotel room, he noticed my strained expression as I rubbed my back. "Are you aching again Steph?" I nodded with a half-smile, showing him my gratitude for his ability to notice when I was in pain. "I'll run a bath?" It was said as a question but he didn't need an answer, and within ten minutes we were both in the bathroom together, not needing to specify previously that he would accompany me- it was simply expected these days. He helped me unzip my dress, smiling at me in the mirror. I breathed in slowly and closed my eyes, the rear of my skull resting on his collar bone. "Whatcha doin'?" I had no wish to tell him the truth then- that I was forcing myself to savour this moment, because I feared that one day I would forget how moments like this, with him, felt. The gentle tickle of my scalp as his breath swam through my hair every few seconds; the unadulterated warmth that grew in my chest as I noticed him staring at me; the swirling sensation that resulted when his rough and dextrous fingertips played with my waist; the lustful yet tender film that seemed to veil my eyes when we remained this close for any length of time. "Tired," I said simply.
"Just relax baby." He kissed my hair, something he'd always done, especially when he knew I needed reassurance that he was there. I turned to unbutton his shirt, while he unbuckled his belt. Within seconds he was naked but for his boxer shorts, and I stood in black lace underwear. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and cupped my bra with his free hand, thumbing where the nipple lay beneath the material. He moved closer again, and I felt his arousal against my stomach, aiding him in pulling down my panties, which I shook from my feet as he placed me on the edge of the sink. He kissed me deeply for the first time since our morning escapade, and I immediately felt his need and love for me in his tongue's skilful but brutal attack on me. "Baby," he said, reaching for my bra clasp, but not before I could flick the elastic on the back of his briefs. "Ouch." He said in fake offence, edging them down, "What am I going to do with you, you naughty girl." He winked and I blushed, releasing a soft but exhausted giggle. My bra eventually came off somehow, and we slipped into the hot, bubbly tub, his arms around my shoulders. I turned to sit astride his thighs, my hands on his neck, his pulling my waist towards him. I didn't fight, I never wished to, and soon he was entering me in a slow, deep push upwards. I moaned in surprise at this familiar pleasure with him, and he whispered his observation of my beauty in my ear. My body was firmly sat above his, our noses touching and eyes meeting. We moved slowly but with intensity, and each time he collided with my inside, my breath increased in pace. His left hand's fingers rubbed my back, holding me on him; his right hand's fingers circling in my hair. I felt as if I was falling straight into him, and I would never be retrieved. He placed small kisses on my neck and face, moving his large hands to both support my sides and massage my chest. As I tipped over the edge he held me close, gazing at me as I gasped his name.
"Lindsey."
I felt him empty inside of me. I leant onto his neck, catching my breath, and he feathered kisses throughout my hair. We were tired, ageing, fearful of the future and deeply in love with each other, and holding each other like this made us forget all but the latter for a short while. I eventually moved to relax against his chest, my body between his legs, and he lathered shampoo and water over my hair. We then switched, and I enjoyed the tingles that his rear rested against my open legs produced, as I fingered his soapy curls. We barely spoke, both relieving ourselves from the stress of the day and our life. Turning to face each other eventually, we began to converse. "You're not like other people Lindsey." I whispered, delicately tracing a line of soapy water down the bridge of his nose with my thumb, "You do what you want to."
"I want you." He kissed my cheek, I sighed. "We're getting wrinkly," he said, lifting my wet hand up to my eye line. "Because of this bath or our birthdays?" I laughed.
"Both?"
"Sh," I said, silencing him with my lips. "Let's get some rest, tomorrow is going to be busy." He smiled and we helped each other rise from the now transparent and lukewarm water, onto the mat. We dried ourselves in the hotel's fluffy, white towels, and entered the bedroom. I pulled on my black silk, and upon exiting the closet, saw him in his usual, simple pair of briefs. I thought of all the petty fights we had gotten into due to me being freezing cold, and him boiling hot. We sat cross-legged on the bed, Lindsey with a crimson cushion in his lap. He shuffled to place his arms on my shoulders, and I stared up at him. "Steph I know the next few months are going to be difficult, what with the baby an-"
"Your child Lindsey yes." He nodded solemnly.
"But I love you and I want to be with you, especially after everything this past year- the good and the bad. You know that right?" I said nothing. "Well...You would make me the happiest man if you would do the honour of-" I saw him reach for something under the cushion, and I halted him, placing my hands above his wrists. "I'm sorry Lindsey."
"What?...I?"
"I love you."
"Steph...No...Tomorrow isn't the end. Just because I'll have a s-"
"You need to marry that girl, not me. You need to accept your responsibilities and love that child as it deserves to be loved."
"Baby no." He had tears in his eyes and he was clasping my hands.
"Very soon there will be no place for me in your life."
"Don't say that it's not true. What the fuck do you want me to do Steph? Anything...I'll do anything!" Spotting the underlying desperate affection in his impulsive half-shout, I leant closer to stroke the back of his neck, achieving a flutter of his breath on my own as he sighed in surrender. "I love you Lindsey," I looked him straight in the eye. "I love you Steph...We can make this work!" We were both crying by now. "You'll feel different soon enough Lindsey, you have to go."