Midnight sun

16 | Dylan

I told him he was beautiful. And that I liked his company. I took care of him like he was mine. And the worst of it all, I kissed him. It was only a brush of lips against his forehead– mother always used to say a forehead kiss cures the worst fever. It was stupid, and even if there was something to it, I doubted he would've felt better after. I told myself that this was just to see how hot he was. But I knew deep down inside it was a lie, and I did it anyway.

I ended up falling asleep in a sitting position, with my back against the wall, Noah's feet pushing into my thigh but sometime during the night he shifted, probably while he was having one of those fever deliriums. When I woke up, I noticed his head on my thighs. I fisted my hands to fight the urge to touch him. But it wasn't enough, not when I'd been fighting this feeling for so long.

My lips touched his fevered skin, and I swallowed down the pain I'd been carrying around for so long, feeling both a sense of freedom and the cold sensation of chains tightening around me.

He shifted in his sleep again and I felt guilty as he mumbled incoherently. I let out a sigh of relief and felt remorseful, then stiffened when his arm circled my waist, coming to rest in the arch at the small of my back. I peered down my chest at him, watching in horror as he blinked awake. He licked his lips, turning away from my crotch area to gaze up at me, his eyes glassy and distant, as if he was still sleeping.

Then he fell asleep again. I waited until the morning when it was my time to go to work, swapped my legs for the pillow and left a glass full of water with the meds next to his bed. I tucked him in and stopped at his open bedroom door, glancing behind. His soft snores assured me that he was sleeping peacefully and that the fever had left his body.

I only received a message from him the next morning. Thank you and sorry for all the stupid things I said. I replied with Do you feel better? And he said Yes fever is gone. Will be at work on Wednesday. That was all.

How much of it does he remember? Today is his first day back and I am crazy with the need to see him, be near him. But whenever I show up where he is, he averts his gaze. Something like embarrassment lingers there, confusing me. Maybe he's regretting the things he said, suggesting that we should have sex.

But something about him suggesting that it would all be just fun, irked me to death. Somehow I knew that sex with Noah would never be just fun, it would make me lose my mind. Even thinking about fucking him makes me feral, I'm sure I would be like a dog finally allowed off leash. I knew that if I had a taste of him I would not be able to ever stop.

As I walk around the site, giving a hand to the crew where they need me, the nervous energy is palpable amongst all of us as we finalize everything before the snowfall after which we'll be moving our focus to the interior of the cabins.

And then I see him approaching me. "I may have an issue with the fitting of windows at cabin Five. Do you mind coming to have a look, everyone else seems busy?"

Noah's strictly business voice is finally directed to me today. I nod and silently follow him on the footpath that goes through the forest of mighty, old trees. We soon end up at the cabin at the lakefront, one of a few scattered along the shore. This one has the best view of all the cottages we are building in this area. Tranquil cobalt water ahead, the lush evergreens in every direction and the snow-capped mountain range in the far distance. Instead of the scenery or Noah, I try to focus hard on the job at hand in silence but I keep shivering although the air is still.

I am sure he needs some reassurance. He is slowly retreating, he is running from me, and my heart can't take it. My lungs are forgetting how to function without his presence already, his smiles, his adorable rambling. However I am not equipped for that kind of conversation at this moment when I can't define what I feel myself.