Chapter 39 #2
For a second, there’s silence, and that silence feels so loud. Normally, I don’t give a fuck how people think about my responses. But right now, oddly, I think I fucking do. And the silence goes on for so long, I start to panic. Cause I think that was the wrong thing to say.
Then there’s a tiny chuckle, and Oakley pulls back, wiping his eyes. “Fuck, that was embarrassing. I don’t think I’ve slept in…I’m actually not sure. I think I’m going a little crazy.”
Relief floods me so hard I can’t breathe. Oakley is okay. I’m okay. Everything will be okay. I say, “You’re not crazy.”
Oakley looks around. “I’m soaked.” Then he turns those eyes up at me, and there’s accusation. “These are the only clothes I have!”
The relief of seeing that spark back in his eyes almost makes me giddy. I turn the water off and shake my head, spraying him with water. “What, you didn’t pack your jammies, mousey?”
Oakley is silent, and right after I ask it, I wonder what kind of jammies Oakley sleeps in. And then his face gets red, and I wonder if he sleeps in the nude.
Blood rushes to my dick.
“Mousey?” There’s a bite of growl in my voice.
“Uh, gotta go.” Oakley squeezes past me and is out of the shower before I realize he’s running. I sprint after him, slipping on the wet floor and just missing him when I reach out. He grabs a towel and disappears from the room.
I chase after him, ripping the wet shirt off my head.
Oakley screeches, jumping into bed and yanking the covers over himself. I shuck my pants and boxers and follow, wrestling with Oakley’s squirming form.
“Wait!” he cries as I try to yank the blankets out of his grip.
“You can’t get away from me.”
“No, Ky, please!” His voice is shrill, then he’s pleading. “Wait, please.”
I pause, breathing heavily, admiring the beautiful man I have pinned under me.
“Please just…lay with me?” There’s such vulnerability in Oakley’s voice that it makes me stop. Like, fully stop and stare at him. Oakley avoids my gaze for a second, then looks up at me and those eyes. Those eyes are full of something like fear.
And that makes me angry. Why is he afraid? I’ll fight anything that makes him afraid.
Then Oakley winces. “Forget it, I shouldn’t have asked.” He tries to roll over, and because of that look on his face, I let him.
And after a beat, I realize that the fear wasn’t from something outside. He was afraid I’d say no.
Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m sliding in next to Oakley.
“What are you doing?” His voice is startled.
“Lying next to you.” I stop when I’m lying right beside him, unsure of how close to get. I’ve never been in bed with someone before when we aren’t…fucking. It’s weird. More than weird, it’s uncomfortable.
Oakley lies there, stiff. The awkward silence stretches on, and I wonder if I’m doing this completely wrong. This can’t be right. I almost get up when he says, “It’s cold.”
I look in his direction, all bundled up in wet clothes and a towel. “Well now, whose fault is that?”
“Yours?” he sputters. “Couldn’t have taken my clothes off before you threw me in the shower?”
“Normally, men strip naked for me. I don’t have to do it for them.” There’s a moment of silence, then I follow it up with. “I was being a gentleman.”
Oakley snorts. “That was being a gentleman?”
My dick starts to get hard again. “You want to see what it looks like when I’m not?”
Oakley squeaks. He actually squeaks, pulling the blankets over him harder and almost exposing my naked skin to the room. Which does nothing for my raging hard on.
“Sleep. I need to sleep.”
I can think of a bunch of other things better than sleep, but then Oakley asks, “Can you turn the light off?”
Is he bound and determined not to fuck me? I hesitate. I don’t like the dark. I almost never sleep with the light off, but then I realize that whatever happens, I won’t be sleeping. And that sobers me.
Leaning over, I click the lamp off by the bedside table, plunging the room into darkness, and I wonder if Oakley asked so he can undress. And I realize how much I want to see all of him, naked, with no clothes to cover up that beautiful body.
Only, he doesn’t. Finally, he lets out a little sigh. “Thanks.”
We lay there for a while, for so long that I start to believe Oakley really isn’t going to fuck me. Which is both weird and…okay? There’s something else it makes me feel, and I’m not sure what it is. I’ve never had someone ask me to just lie with them.
In the silence, those racing thoughts that I try so hard to avoid come back.
Not safe. We’re not safe.
I stare up at the flashing light of the smoke detector on the ceiling, keeping my eyes peeled in the darkness, the uninvited thoughts creeping in until it flashes, and the thoughts go away.
I hate the dark.
Slowly, Oakley’s breathing gets heavier, and still, I watch that blinking light.
For a second, I close my eyes ‘cause Dad is in the room, and he’s glaring at Oakley. “He’s next, demon boy.”
When I open my eyes, I jerk awake.
Fuck, I must have been dreaming.
Glancing wildly around, I check the clock, letting out a relieved exhale. I wasn’t out long.
I need alcohol. I don’t sleep without alcohol.
Sitting up, I move to leave.
“Wait!” There’s sleepy panic in Oakley’s voice, and he moves to get up.
“I have to go.” There’s urgency now. I can’t fall asleep here. I can’t dream next to Oakley. I just…can’t.
“Please.”
Then I do the cowardly thing.
I run.