The phoenix's hypothesis - Book 1 (MxM 18+)

Chapter 5: A meeting

Anthony, Fri Jan 16th 2015

"Want to go to my place?"

"Sure" I reply. "Let me just go the bathroom before!"

This is going to be such a great night, I think to myself while I leave the dancefloor. I quickly make my way to the bathroom, fantasizing about my dark haired man and all the delicious things we are going to do later. I let a cute twink go out of the restrooms before going in and use the first urinal.

I have just finished my business when I feel someone pressed on my back. Oh god. Not one of these Pervs who think that this is flirting again...

"What do we have here?" he whispers in a deep threatening voice.

"I'm not interested, leave me alone." I reply. Seriously, does he not realize how gross this is?

As I close my zipper, I try to disentangle myself from his embrace, but he strongly pins me down against the wall.

"Tut tut tut! You are not going to leave so soon, are you? We will have some fun together first."

He is smiling at me with a predatory look, and begins to seriously frighten me. I try to get away, but he is just too strong. As I open my mouth to scream for help, he shoves a piece of cloth in it which effectively mutes my cry. I am starting to panic, thoughts of what is going to happen to me racing through my mind. I'm still struggling to escape when the door of the restroom opens to let in my dancing companion of the night.

"What's going on here?" my knight in shining armor asks.

Thank God I'm saved!

I wake up panting, drenched in sweat, my heart beating very fast. When I've calmed down a bit by taking deep breaths, I look at the clock: 4am. Again. That's just great. I know there is little point in staying in bed, as I won't fall back asleep, but I lie down and rest my eyes for a while. At least the nightmare didn't go until the end this time.

I have only slept four hours, and I feel a bit nauseous from all the alcohol I drank last night. I know, I said I didn't drink too much to have a hangover, but that was counting on the fact I would have a real night of sleep. I slowly get up to pour me a glass of water. I add an Advil on second thoughts: my head is throbbing from the mix between the lack of sleep and the drunkenness. As my eyes catch my reflection in the mirror, I can see I look like shit.

I am exhausted but I know sleep will elude me, so I just go fetch my diary to complain about my fucking life for a few minutes. That actually makes me feel a bit better, for once. Then I begin to prepare for the day. I usually don't really need a long time, but since I have been blessed with an early wake-up, I might as well use it to look perfect. On the outside at least. Inside, I just feel as broken, dirty and pathetic as ever.

I begin with a very long and warm shower. My hopes to relieve a bit of tension by playing with my little soldier are quickly crushed since it seems he doesn't want to wake up. Even my stupid cock gets more sleep than I do. Then I shave, style my hair and try to hide the bags under my eyes with some concealer. I make myself a first cup of coffee, that I drink while trying to organize a few thoughts around my research. My brain is feeling like a car on a muddy road, so that isn't very productive.

After my second cup of coffee, I get dressed for the day. Black suit, yellow shirt and black tie. As I look at myself in the mirror, I take a few minutes to build back my mental walls.

You will get through today without breaking up. You will appear strong. Nobody will notice anything.

This is the little ritual I've followed for the last two and a half years. When I feel ready, I grab my keys and leave for work.