When I woke up, the world was
still blue. I had slept for only a few hours, which was very impressive because
I had been drinking a lot the night before. However, I didn’t drink nearly
enough to forget about the person that I was sharing the bed with. He was
sleeping on his side, his face towards mine, gently breathing with his mouth
slightly opened. I wanted to reach for his face and just caress it for a
moment, but I realized it was still too early in the morning and it would be
cruel to wake him up.
I decided to only stare at him. I
wanted to detail every single feature of his face and try to remember it for a
long time. I was the kind of guy to have casual sex pretty often but they would
normally leave after we had finished. Our connection to one another was always
physical and, when all was done, they knew they had to leave without much fuss.
That was the first time I shared my bed in a very long time and it was also the
first time in a while that I could actually say that I really liked the person I
spent the night with.
Of course, we had sex. But it
wasn’t the kind of passionate and rough sex that I would have with just about
any other man. It had been special in a way, for him and for me, I’m sure of
that. The way he handled his body and the sounds that came out of his body, as
well as what he caused in me, all of it told me that it wasn’t just another
crazy Friday night. It was something more and I really wanted to know why or
how, because it wasn’t still completely clear. Maybe that was because it was so
early.
My head wasn’t buzzing or
hurting, I could handle my liquor. Maybe he was a little bit on the weaker
side, which I found to be adorable. Then, he said something in his sleep and
the moved slightly, but remained facing me. He was really beautiful. Or maybe
he wasn’t and I was just imagining him to be even more beautiful than he really
was. Maybe I was idealizing the moment and everything was just as usual. Maybe
the real problem was that I was feeling alone and empty, and casual sex had run
its course.
I had thought of that many times
and it always hunted me how things change from one moment to the next. I mean,
I love the way I behave and I do things because I like them. I don’t feel any
pressure to settle down or to go out and find someone to fuck with. Not at all.
I just feel this freedom inside me that lets me do anything that I want, wether
it is being with that beautiful man in bed or working out or eating breakfast.
The thought of breakfast though, made my stomach growl. It was very early but I
really wanted something to eat. So I carefully got up and went out the room.
It almost made me laugh how much
shit there was around the apartment. There was a pizza box with two very cold
slices just resting there. A group of people had come to have a nice evening of
talking and games, so we had ordered some food after drinking several bottles
of alcohol. I remembered how some were carrying others out the door, how I
received messages of “I got home” while I was making my new friend moan in my
room. It’s funny how life takes in one place and puts thing in the other.
The fridge was almost empty as it
was one of those weekends I had to go to the supermarket. Luckily, there was
still some orange juice left because some friends had ordered two bottles of it
to mix with vodka. That made me do a funny face, there by myself, reminding me
of how much alcohol I had drank. I poured some juice on a clean glass and then
grabbed some bread from the cupboard. As I was looking for the toaster, a
sleepy voice greeted me and that made me smile from ear to ear.
He was there, wearing my Avengers
t-shirt. I had worn it the night before and then it had been thrown to the
floor when we started kissing. Apparently, he was too shy to come out of the
bedroom fully naked. He had also put on his underwear, some lovely red briefs.
I put the toaster on the counter and greeted him, smiling. I then realized that
I was naked, with nothing on at all, and that I was also probably sporting some
crazy hair and bad breath. Thinking about that got me paralysed. His smile made
me forget all about it in seconds.
We had toast with strawberry jam
for breakfast and we shared the glass of orange juice because all the others
had to be clean. His skin was a bit pale, which I imagined was all about the
drinking. I asked if he had slept well, and he nodded. He said I was very warm
all night, so that helped him sleep better. It was so strange, to talk to him
as if he was some unknown person that had just walked in. True, we had only met
a couple of times, but we were past conversations as polite as the one we were
having by the counter.
So I just went and asked him if
he had something to do that morning. He told me he never woke up so early and
that he would only go out of his house in the afternoon, to have something to
eat. So he was free until then. I asked about his parents, as he lived with
them, and he assured me they weren’t the kind to worry too much. Actually, they
never seemed to worry or ask any explanations from him. I found that to be
really strange but left it there, because I know how awkward it feels when some
person just drills you about your personal life. It’s just one of those things
you shouldn’t do.
In order to continue the
conversation and not have some weird moment of silence, I told him I usually
went out on Saturday mornings to the supermarket, as it was one of the moments
of the week when my nearest grocery store would be almost empty, deprived of
any crying children or annoying people trying to find products they would never
buy. He laughed at that and I smiled because his laugh was just perfect. I
realized then that maybe I was idealizing him but I decided I did not care, for
once.
Normally, I’m not the most
romantic man ever. But right then and
there, I decided to go around the counter and just seat besides him and look at
him as I did when we were in bed. He clearly thought that was a bit odd, but he
stood still and just finished eating. When he did, I took his hand and just
caressed it for a while. Then, I stood up from my seat, and walked slowly towards
the bathroom, still grabbing his hand. He came gently and it was him who closed
the door. We kissed the moment he did that.
We made love again in the shower
and then again in the bedroom, after we had cleaned ourselves thoroughly. I
thought he was going to leave then but he decided to come with me to the
supermarket. We spent the whole morning together and then we parted ways after
he helped me get everything in order in my house. He left with a kiss on the
lips and a smile. He hasn’t been back since then. It has only been a few days
but I already miss him. Am I too sensitive or something? Should I just not get
attached?
No. Again, I cannot care too much. It’s dangerous.
