Midnight sun

20 | Noah

Dylan's kisses are such a contrast from his brutal fucking–he was so gentle and slow, kissing me like he'd been long without it, like it was of vital importance to learn how I liked to be kissed. And I gave myself up to the kiss. Being at Dylan's whims freed me from my own head, took away all the uncertainty that sometimes came with sex for me. I felt like the most precious thing he had.

Then there was only a quick rinse in the shower before he took me to his bedroom, pushed me on the mattress and went straight to my dick. It only took a minute or two for him to finish me off, and now we are both lying next to each other, spent and panting.

A couple of minutes pass before his breathing slows and he starts to snore, exhaustion from all the physical work at the construction site this morning and our activities catching up with him. Sleep doesn't come so easily for me though. My mind is too busy turning over what kissing him did to me.

And just being here next to him feels monumental, like I'm on the precipice of something big that would soon take place. Lying on my side, with my arm under my head I slowly brush my fingertips against the skin of his bicep. What if I told him this feels like more than it's supposed to be? Because saying that we are just friends who are occasionally getting off sounds wrong.

Sex has never been so raw and honest as it was with him. I have to admit that I had no idea what I was doing with my curiosity about being with Dylan. But I ended up stripped down to my core, discovering far more about myself, about both of us than I bargained for. I have been fucked before but this was nothing like that, part of it was how Dylan took control, made me feel like I'm the only person in the world, and part of it was simply how I felt about Dylan, which in turn made me feel differently about the act.

I remain awake, listening to him breathe, tingling up my spine and a heat washing over my skin as I look down at his muscled body, all the deep lines and perfectly placed dips. Then I look at his flaccid dick lying against his stomach. The unexplainable feeling of want is racing through me as I lick my lips, needing him in my mouth. Just like that, while he sleeps, while he's not thinking about sex at all, I want to hold his soft dick in my mouth in order to finally be at peace, satisfied to the fullest. This is something in me that was lying dormant up until now. Maybe that's why I liked everything about what he did to me. Maybe that's why in that moment when he had his mouth on me so expertly I decided I had to have him bare, and I never let anyone else come inside of me before. There was so much need to be possessed by him, used as he saw fit. Taken care of by him.

Would he mind if I stayed just a bit longer? If I touched him again? Now that I have his blessing and he stopped pretending that he doesn't want me, I want to make the most of it and explore all these urges he is awakening in me. I don't know how long I will stay in Alaska, maybe a few more months, half a year, until I earn enough money so I can go back. But go back where? Yes, a restless feeling inside of me is telling me to go and look for my mom. Even though the more I think about the idea, it doesn't sit right with me anymore. Why would I go looking for someone who probably doesn't even want to be found? Someone who doesn't even want me. Maybe meeting her would be the worst idea possible for me now. Maybe I am supposed to stay here and never look back.

And stay here right now? It's late afternoon and I should have left. Actually sleeping with men after sex is not something I ever enjoyed, but I did it when I needed to feel some normalcy. It was nice having a warm bed for a few hours,the men were irrelevant. Disposable. Those arms they would wrap around me, wanting that post-sex intimacy, I just despised and avoided at all costs.

Dylan stirs and opens his eyes, almost surprised to see me here next to me.

"Fuck, how long did I sleep?" He yawns and it's the most adorable thing I ever saw. "Sorry." I take a few seconds to admire how soft and sleepy Dylan looks.

"Not long. Maybe twenty minutes or so. You should go back to sleep. I was leaving anyway."

"Were you watching me sleep?" He teases and reaches behind him to pull the covers over both of us, ignoring what I said.

"No? Just had to rest a little before I left, it's going to be hard for me to walk. Or sit." I wiggle my eyebrows.

"Did I hurt you?" His tone is suddenly like he's handling a delicate flower. He is worried about me and I hate that I like that so much.

"No. I mean, I'll definitely feel you for a while but it's not painful. It's a really really good feeling."

Dylan raises his hand to lightly touch my bottom lip, his eyes riveted. "Ok. Will you please always tell me if you're uncomfortable with something?" Dylan asks tentatively, as my mouth is opening on instinct with his fingers so close to it.

I give my answer by gently pressing my lips to his fingertips. My heart is racing and for the first time since we started this I feel nervous. This man doesn't know half of what I've done in life and what a failure I am. He doesn't know about the guy that offered me good drugs in exchange for a blowjob. He doesn't know about all those slimy rich forty-somethings that I slept with for a few fancy dinners and an expensive suit just so I could pretend for a few hours that I belong somewhere. He doesn't know about replacing those fancy things for dirty streets and dirty clothes and dirty veins from that shitty poison I injected to numb the pain. Sure I told him the truths about myself, but the details are so much worse.

What am I thinking, falling into his bed like this, demanding his time and attention? He probably has better things to do, maybe look for a man who is worth it. I bet that guy who Dylan had a one-night stand with has more to offer to him than me.

"I... I gotta go." I rush out of his bed, my confidence wavering.

"If you want..."

"No," I interrupt whatever he was about to suggest, probably something really nice, like offering a cup of hot cocoa or a bath. Why did this man have to go and be so damn gentle, it was supposed to be quick and fast. "It's getting late and I promised my Aunt that I would help with dinner tonight."

That's not a lie. But she certainly would not mind if I didn't do it. I often helped her but on occasion skipped when I felt too tired or just wanted to do something else. I just have to get out of here now. I leave his bedroom, and go looking for my clothes scattered around his home.

I dress quickly remembering how fucking wild he fucked me on his sofa, splitting me apart. What I did not expect was that it would end in soft kisses, gentle caresses and me wanting to stay in his bed watching him sleep. Me thinking about how we can be more than friends? More than fuck buddies.

I'm dressed in record time and just before I'm about to leave I close my eyes in frustration, rooted to the spot at his front door. I can't be that person, I'm not a dick that will just leave without saying goodbye just because of my stupid insecurities. I might be a train wreck but I wasn't that much of an asshole.

Backtracking to the bedroom, with my palm I push the partially closed door open. Dylan is sitting completely naked, his back to me as he stares outside the window that is pitch black at this time of day. He hears me but doesn't look at me, and I open my mouth but words don't come out.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning at work," Dylan says in a voice way too cold.

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