more moans made their way out. soft, yet lustful and longing. david nudged the door open, leaving it only so he can peek. simon was on the couch, his clothes thrown messily around the room. he was on his hands and knees, pumping his hard length.
david's cheeks took on a crimson flush. he bit his lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood. he shamelessly continued watching the scene before him. "oh... david..", the older man moaned. david bit his lip harder, choking down his blood and shock. david turned on his heel and fled.
he ran. ran away from what he saw. ran away from what would be his undoing. he couldn't fall in love with this man. he couldn't handle having everything then losing it all again. he slammed the dressing room door closed behind him, crumpling to his knees.
he held his head in his hands. the sleeves on his suit and dress shirt slid down a bit. he looked at the faint white scars that drew a map of years of self loathing and depression. some fresher than others. his hand moved absently on it's own when it reached up to his neck and looked for the scars there. beneath the cakey concealer he felt the deep ridges and the rough edges.
not again.
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uh, it's not that good. please leave comments! i worry.
