I'm also sorry for dumping everything on you now
Sir Ismael
As I said, I have all day
It meant a lot to see you hadn't just blocked me everywhere
caged_pig
Of course not
We could talk, every now and then, if you wanted
I know we had an online arrangement, but I feel like you got to know parts of me no one else knows, and I've been missing that
Sir Ismael
It would be my honor
THIRTY-SEVEN
santos
It wasn’t the first time I woke up all but rutting against Ever’s ass. It wasn’t the first time, either, that I didn’t know what to do with it. Did I grind against him until he woke up? Did I wait until he woke up, or woke him up myself, and told him to suck my cock? The indecision was starting to feel familiar. Gutting.
Enough that all desire to do anything about my morning wood had all but evaporated by the time Ever woke up, stretching like a cat before turning around to flop against my side.
“Hey,” he croaked.
That also felt gutting.
This week was the week of hell. I wasn’t even sure what was happening to me, or my body, or anything else, but I knew he wasn’t this inhibited in the mornings. I knew that, two weeks ago, he looked at me with quiet desire, with the barely contained urge to purr and rub himself all over me. Now, there was a quiet something, yeah, but I couldn’t be projecting all that hesitation.
Could I?
“Hey.” I cleared my throat. “Slept well?”
“Yeah.” He licked his lips. I didn’t think it was a conscious gesture or anything meant to tantalize or awaken anything in me. “Your therapist said I could come today, right?”
I answered with a nod.
It made me feel weird, but I was the one who had asked for this. There wasn’t any subterfuge when it was something I’d set in motion. Was there?
The appointment couldn’t come fast enough.
“Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“Sure.” Ever propped himself up on one elbow. His hair was so fucking messy it was beyond anything that could be referred to as sexy bed hair, and it got on his face before he batted at it with one hand that proved he wasn’t as fully awake as his words would hint. “I told you, I’ll do anything you ask me to.”
“And I told you, no hyperboles.”
“It’s not one.” He yawned. “Well, I don’t think I’d kill someone for you, but I might be open to providing an alibi.”
“Ever.”
If anyone asked me, I’d say sounding stern had never been in my skillset, but I tried for him, and it had some sort of effect.
“Fine.” He pouted. I bet he would deny it if I said anything out loud, but I liked when he lowered his guard and acted more like this. Pouting and fighting the urge to blurt out a laugh. The way I’d had him before I got too in my head with comparisons and memories and shit that had no place here. Shit that I’d been warned about when we started working on all that stuff in therapy, but I’d thought I had it, and now I didn’t, and everything was getting out of control. Control I needed. Control I wanted to have, for once. “Are we okay, though? I mean… Not to sound too…me, but you’re not making me go to therapy with you to break things off or anything, right?”
