The House in the Lake

His Smell

I slept well. Actually, I slept really well. And woke up wearing a wide smile, lying on my back, and thinking what a wonderful day this is. But then, my mood dropped. He'll be angry with me.

As I said, this is a good thing. Right? But, for whatever reason, I don't want to see the look of disapproval in his eyes. I know I'm not making any sense. I'm here to kill him, but I don't want him to dislike me? But, I don't!

Anyway, I get up, put on my trousers, socks and shoes. I think my underwear is too filthy for me to wear. Well, the rest of my clothing is also filthy, but I try not to notice it. Hard. For when I try to tie my laces I can't avoid smelling the stink of my trousers. A rotting rat would smell like flowers compared to that, but I persuade myself to ignore it. I can't bring myself to wear my top, though.

I go to wash my face, clean my teeth, comb my hair... I try to make myself presentable. If he can't smell, that is. And I get out of my room.

"Good morning, Kane!"

He is out at the porch. He sounds happy, just like every morning. I don't sense anger in his yell. Nonetheless, I approach timidly. He turns his face to me, looks at me, and smiles.

"Thank you for that, Kane!" And he taps the seat on the couch just by his side. I go and sit there.

My breakfast is on the table. As always. But I feel more reluctant than any other time to start eating. He hugs me softly, and pecks my cheek.

"It's not poisoned, you know. I'd never do that!"

"I know..."

And indeed I do!

So I start eating and he looks at my eyes admiringly, and he talks to me cheerfully, and he doesn't mention anything about me looking in his box.

And when I finish my breakfast and take my coffee and sit back in my seat, he lies on my lap, looking at me. Still smilingly. Still admiringly. And I so much don't deserve this!

"I'm sorry," I unconsciously blurt.

I shocked myself more than I did him, by doing that. He doesn't even ask why. He just turns his face a little, kisses my navel, and, then, while looking in my eyes – fondly – he simply says, "You have no reason to be, Kane."

I want to tell him why I do have a reason – well, more than one – to apologise, but I'm too much of a chicken to do it. So, I continue drinking my coffee silently. Both hands holding my cup.

He turns on his side, facing me, and closes his eyes. He lies there the whole time. Smiling and kissing my belly, every now and then. His arms, around my waist, may hold me a little more tightly than he usually does, but not forcefully at all.

I know I want him to keep hugging me like that. I know I don't deserve it, but I do want him to keep kissing me, and keep smiling at me. I do. And, by the way, how does he manage to keep his smile while smelling my stench? I don't know!

In any case, the day continued like this. I was more quiet than usual. Very much so. He was as warm to me as always. Maybe a little more. Even if he were a fool, and I know he isn't, he would have understood I'm feeling guilty about something. He didn't ask what about, though. Instead, he hugged me a little more, and more warmly. He kissed me a little more. He caressed me a little more. Like he was trying to comfort me and to make me feel better. Nothing sexual. Not a single effort to seduce me.

I was vulnerable. I would have given my ass without hesitation, just to wash away my guilt. I would have let him do to me whatever he wanted, just so I would be able to look him in the eye and tell him, "We are even now", afterwards.

But he didn't try anything. He didn't even joke about it, or try to insinuate – or say – I'm shirtless in order to seduce him. He just hugged me, literally and metaphorically, all day long.

And now, I'm back in the bathtub, trying to cleanse the filthiness of my body and soul. I am a chicken. I know. But tomorrow I must pluck up the courage and admit to him what I did. He'll hate me, probably. But, as things stand, I hate myself. This isn't me! At least, this shouldn't be me!

I dry myself and go to bed. I turn off the lights and curl on my side. I'm waiting for his goodnight, but it doesn't come.

Instead, an odd thing happens. He opens the door. Without a knock. Without him saying anything, even after doing that. He just enters my room, naked. And, without a delay, he comes into my bed and lies, under the sheet, behind me, hugging me tightly. Lovingly. Not lustfully.

Yes, I can feel his dick pressing my ass, but it's just because we are naked and he squishes me on him. If anything, I'm the one pressing my ass against his hard on.

"What are you doing?"

What a hypocrite I am! My body provokes him to do more, but I pretend to be offended? He kisses the base of my nape softly.

"Would you prefer me to stand beside your bed, uncover you, and remain there admiring you and caressing you? Then, maybe, mess with your things and then sit on the bed, hard, and continue caressing you?"

Oh, shit! He knows everything!

"I didn't-"

"I know, Kane. I know!"

"You weren't asleep, then. Were you?"

"No."

"I'm sorry, Lugh. I am!"

"You have no reason to be, Kane. None at all!" He squishes me a little harder and, again, kisses my nape. And again, a few more times. "Should I leave, or do you want me to sleep with you?"

"Leave", would be the sane reply, but not even I, as much of a hypocrite as I am, would dare say that. So, I shut up. I can't say, "Please stay", although this is exactly what I feel. So I remain silent and press my ass a little harder against his dick. And I am hard, too.

"Then I'll stay."

And I relax. And I allow myself to feel as nicely and safely snuglled as I really feel inside his arms.

But I am a hypocrite, indeed. I don't want him to realise how hard he makes me – as if he hasn't already realised it! – so, I turn around, not leaving his embrace, and now I'm facing his chest.

His light is so warm and welcoming. And, moreover, it doesn't annoy me at all when I close my eyes. It's like it isn't there. I mean, I feel its warmth. I feel nice in it. I can say it's there, but I don't see it. It doesn't bother my eyes. It relaxes me, instead, even more.

So I relax. I inhale deeply and relax even more. What's this smell? It's his, of course. But... it feels so familiar. I love his smell. It makes me feel so... safe? I close in on him, eyes closed, to inhale deeper. I need this smell!

My hands go down to gently and lovingly enfold his dick. I know how this sounds, but it's not like this. Really. I'm not trying to arouse him. Well... he is hard, but I really am not. In fact, I'm not even thinking of it. In my mind, I tenderly enfold his most personal and sensitive part.

In my mind, I'm trying to tell him, through my actions, "Thank you" and "I'm going to protect you". Yes, something like that. To him. To this murderous beast. To this sweetest guy, who smells so... relaxingly?

And somehow like that, I fall asleep.