Tender gangster

Porsche loves hugging you

Porsche loves hugging you. Whether it's just a gesture of support, a rush of feelings or gratitude for the moments of happiness Porsche wraps his arms around your neck, lowers his stubborn chin on your strong, but for some reason a little trembling shoulder - and hugs you. Fervently and sincerely. Gentle and so soothing.

The room is in darkness. But you've been lying with your eyes open for a long time and you've already gotten used to the dark. Porsche sleeps on your outstretched arm, which, of course, is already a little numb, but you dare not disturb your beloved's sleep. It's been a hell of a week. Porsche narrowly escaped serious wound at the last meeting with his partners. You mentally rub your hands — you have already managed to send them to fish food. No one will dare to deprive you of your precious happiness.

The corners of Porsche's lips twitch slightly. You lightly touch his forehead with a kiss. Porsche smiles and rolls his head, burying his face in your neck. You're smiling yourself. Memories come to mind of how, even in your first casual intimacy, Porsche suddenly impulsively hugged you. There were so many of them, those cheap toys that wanted to get your kiss, but none of them tried to hug you. No, not for lustful reasons, and not because theu needed those hugs themselves, but because you needed hugs. You kissed Porsche first. And he was the first guy who hugged you, because then you needed it more than anything in the world. Porsche loves hugging. And he's great at it.

"Can't you sleep?"

Porsche still opens his eyes and looks at you in the dark. You smile and nod. Then Porsche takes his hands out from under the pillow and blanket and hugs you, so now you find yourself lying lower.

"Kinn, I'm fine, and you need to get some sleep. The second night you lie with your eyes open."

That's how... so he was pretending to be asleep too.

"I don't even want to imagine my life without you."

"Well, no need to imagine," Porsche giggles, hugging you tighter, "I'm not going anywhere from you. Now let's go to sleep."

You stroke his head, and then you bury your fingers in his hair and kiss him. Porsche swallows your kiss, whispering:

"If you want me now, just tell me."

"Now? I always want you."

"Oh, that's not going to work. Your little buddy needs a break.

You bo thlaugh, giving each other "Eskimo kisses". Porsche strokes your slightly prickly cheek. The fox squint of his eyes is acting hypothetically. You close your eyes and on a whim lean your forehead against his cool forehead — another of your favorite moments:

"Thank you for always hugging me. I really appreciate it, Porsche."

"And I love hugging you, my gentle and overly sentimental bandit lately."

"Mmm, should I be tougher and more restrained?"

"No," Porsche hugs you, "although I will accept you any. But this tender side of you, hidden from others... in short, I really appreciate that you let me see it."

Porsche is right. A thousand times right. Only to him can you show this side of yourself and let him see you in moments of weakness, knowing that Porsche will not condemn. He'll just hug you tighter, resting his head on your slightly trembling shoulder.