WHERE TO NOW? (M/M) 18+

Chapter 41

Damien.

I didn't know what to say, not when he looked at me like that. The way his pain and anger burned to the surface as I pushed him away again. I didn't want him to leave the bathroom, but what else could I do, I couldn't contain it, I couldn't control myself.

The feeling of his warm, wet skin pressed against me, the way his tongue rolled over my thumb so eagerly, and the devilish grin he gave me when I closed my hand around his throat. Fuck. It was almost impossible to contain it, the gnawing ache burning in my chest, a yearning for my mouth to claim him, to suck on that sweet skin and swallow the blood I drew to the surface.

He had no idea the pain I wanted to cause him, the parts of him I wanted to tear into. He had no idea what I would've done to him. I could feel it writhing inside me with every bite of his flesh, teasing the thing inside. My body was on fire, I couldn't believe how rough I was with him, how tightly I gripped onto him and how wildly he panted against my hold on his neck, unable to breathe...

It took everything I had to push it down, to sedate the animal clawing its way through my bones and out of my skin. I lost it, just for a moment, and that was enough. When he tugged on my underwear, wanting to undress me, I came back to myself enough to pull away from him. I couldn't keep doing that with him, I wouldn't be able to hold it, and I told him as much. But he took it the wrong way.

I didn't mean to shout at him, but if he stayed with me, there was no telling what I'd do to him. I didn't have time to explain it to him, I needed him out.

What I said, that I couldn't give him what he wanted, I know he misinterpreted that too. Of course he did, how could he not when I neglected to explain it to him... I meant it in the most literal sense, but I think he read into it more than I anticipated... and when he told me he was giving up, that he would stop trying and that he was tired of feeling the way he did, it felt like my soul had fallen into the darkest depths inside me, a heaviness weighing down on me as I looked into his red, swollen eyes.

Listening to him cry with only a timber slab to hold me back, it was torture. I wanted to break down the door, smash it in and hold him, but all I could do was listen, and wait. Wait with him through the pain of my uncertainty. The sound of his sobs choked my throat and tore at my chest, leaving a deep ache igniting in the pits of my stomach like a wildfire consuming everything in its path, overwhelming and relentless. Each desperate cry resonated through me, stirring emotions I didn't know I possessed, making it impossible to hear anything else but the sound of my own wrongdoings.

I knew he was right; everything would have been better, easier if he had moved on. Yet, the thought of it filled me with an anxious turbulence, and I felt a surge of anger at the very idea of his gaze no longer fixed on me, of those warm, familiar eyes wandering somewhere else instead of being anchored to my back like they always were.

It was endearing how he'd ogle me like I was his favourite chew toy. He thought he was being so sly, sneaking glances when he thought I wasn't looking, but I saw every single one. The way he'd blush when our eyes met and the look on his face? It was all too obvious how he felt. Honestly, I found it quite enjoyable to watch. Sometimes, I could practically see the gears turning in his head, the questions and concerns about what we were, but I couldn't bring myself to explain it to him. To explain how I felt when he'd look at me or the fact that even while unconscious, he was all that I thought about.

If he planned to move on from me, to give up and finally feel at peace, why did he say what he did earlier? I waited for him to come out for hours, wanting to make sure he was alright, but when he finally did, I kept my eyes closed. I wasn't sure why I did that, maybe I didn't want to startle him, or make him feel like he needed to talk if he didn't want to. But listening to him speak to me like that, without the worry of what I might say or think, listening to him say those words...