❝P-please,❞ He whimpered, holding my hand over his erection. It was perfectly hard and ready for me, straining against his boxers in the most delicious way.
"What is it that you want me to do, baby?"
"Touch me," He moaned and drew his head back whe...
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Orion and I did not belong there, side-by-side, together. Yet, there we were, relishing in all that was forbidden. The harmonious tussle between the raspy, vulnerable hums of the singer and the rain's adamance created a moment as unforgettable as it was boisterous. His voice, gentle yet laden with sadness, floated through the downpour, embodying both the serenity and tumult of the weather.
Each raindrop that landed on the wooden guitar seemed to meld with the chords, creating a concoction of natural and human beauty. The wood absorbed the moisture, perhaps slightly detuning the strings and giving each note a raw, melancholic edge. The patter of droplets against the guitar's body added an almost percussive layer to the melody, a rhythmic backdrop that elevated the man's sorrowful tunes into a living, breathing entity.
As his fingers danced over the frets, rainwater trickled down, mixing with the rhythm. The wooden structure of the guitar, rich and resonant, seemed to magnify the rainfall's whisper, making it part of the performance. It was as though the rain itself was an uncredited musician, contributing its own ethereal qualities to the song.
Orion stood there, barely noticing the world around him. He was entranced, and enjoying the moment, and in a way—I envied him. I knew that in that moment, Orion would have had that same content look on his face regardless of who he was with. At that point in my life, I began to fear solitude. I would have been miserable and cold out there in the rain, stuck in the middle of downtown, especially alone.
Orion was my comfort, but I had yet to figure out if I was truly his.
The waterlogged air seemed to carry the man's sorrow farther, making downtown his unintentional amphitheater, where every listener felt the weight of each note. It was a chaotic symphony, a beautiful disarray—one that ensnared our hearts and branded our memories with the sounds of forbidden togetherness and the rain-soaked melodies of the day.
Orion and I stayed there for a while until the singer took a smoke break. The moment he whipped out his zippo, Orion was pulled out of his trance and focused his attention back to me. He still held the umbrella over our heads as he looked down at me.
"Would you like to head back since it's getting late?" he asked. "Or...we could stop by one more place."
I think it's pretty telling which option I chose. I would have done anything to stay out of Finewaters for as long as I could, so I held my hand out for Orion and smiled. "Take me away, sir!"
He smiled a small, genuine smile and grabbed my hand. Under the persistent drizzle, Orion unconsciously held me close beneath the umbrella, our shoulders brushing together. His grip was warm and steady, a gesture that felt natural, as if it had been etched into his instincts long ago.
I could tell it was muscle memory for him, perhaps from the days of sharing an umbrella with his mother. Yet, this moment was different—it wasn't simply about staying dry. It was about being together, sheltered from the world in our own small haven.
