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He had returned. Like a moth, doomed to fizzle out, he had been drawn back to this flame. There was no reasoning behind it or if there was, all the hoop jumping it demanded was far too strenuous for his mind. Instead he had just sunk into a fragile acceptance. One which carried with it that shame, the one that chastised him for his vices and inability to not give in to the ease of temptation. Had there been any energy left to argue with himself, Dale was certain he would have at least made an attempt at rationalisation. But there were none and in its absence he could do little more than comply.
It was raining again. The droplets against the hotel window were massive, sliding down in large tendrils, spreading ever further across the surface. Hanging in the air was a humidity and the ever present sound of the wind picking up. Gloomy was a good word for it and yet, within it he could not help but to find a comfort. It was a small thing, something he had carried with him since childhood. On days like these there was no need to pretend that everything was fine. No one would raise an eyebrow if there was no way for him to force out a smile. No there was something raw, something real about times like these, with the deep gray skies and the downpour. Perhaps a reflection of whatever it was that he carried on the inside.
A sigh forced itself out of his throat as he leaned forward in the armchair. It was all he really could do to entertain himself. To sink deeper into these contemplations. On good days he would have been generous enough to call it an introspective philosophical discussion but this was not one of those days and he felt no uncertainty about the fact that what his mind could scrape together was shameful next to anyone who had actually studied the great minds of philosophy. The fact of the matter was that his head was swelling with thoughts but all of them refused to come with any smidgen of clarity. Instead they were festering together into murky waters where there were no telling just how deep down the bottom was, if there even was one.
And this room was the source of it all. Where it had all once started and to which he found himself returning so often it was almost frightening. How many times had he told himself the lie that this would be the last time? That he would never again pick up the phone and make the call in that hushed voice, as if petrified that some unseen force was listening in as he once more gave in to temptation. It had been little more than a way to deceive himself and it no longer worked. The last times he had done so there had been nothing but the shame burning in the depths of his stomach.
Raising a hand to his face, he tried to rub the exhaustion out of his eyes. What he had once tried to claim was a mistake had now instead become an occurrence which he craved. That he could long for whenever all of the thoughts became too much. A way to let off steam. To try and drown everything in the most primal manner one possibly could. Pathetic. There was no other word for it. Not only because of how desperately he longed for it but mostly because of which person he chose to do so with. The same man that he had chased for countless lifetimes. Someone who he had been at the mercy of and who he had shown none too throughout all these times that seemed little more than memories or bad nightmares.
Feeling the tightening of his chest, he gave a low chuckle. One of defeat. Or perhaps of acceptance. He was indeed pathetic. The most unfortunate of fortune's fools. Seeking solace in the company of someone that he had put all his anger at for so long. A person who could embody all of the hurt, the frustration, the agony. And who now slowly started to morph, shaping himself into a completely new being, as if made out of clay. Still too blurry to make out. A process which he found frightening and yet one which he could not find the strength to just walk away from. It had taken all his courage to admit that just as the other man was altering, so was he.
He could not shake the feeling that during these meetings, behind the same closed hotel door and within its dim lightning, they were both trying to sculpt one another. Tearing away everything that had come before, as if trying to remove hardened rock in the hope of finding diamonds underneath. Every encounter still plagued by their guarded nature. Clothing attire which remained unmoved, hands which still could not fully make out just where they were allowed to tread and which placements would result in retaliation. Their walls were still up but there was no denying that he could feel the other man chipping away at his own defences and how he himself, in kind, answered the gesture.
There was was a need, deep and unfathomable, frightening even but one which he could no longer struggle to keep at bay. He wanted to know the man under it all. Not as the ghost which had haunted his past. Not as the bogeyman that he swore he had killed over and over but as a person. As David Eilander. This enigma. All of his attempts at a character study had fallen flat. It felt as if he viewed the other man through a thick fog, one which never cleared. Trying to paint his details before he could even make out the contour. A task so daunting and yet something he could never convince his mind to fully give up on. The need to know was too strong to be fended off. Or perhaps it was possible and it was just his own mental fortitude which was lacking.
The knock at the door managed to pierce through the mist which had enveloped his mind. Sharp, hard, impatient. There was no need to entertain the thought that someone else was waiting outside. Once more his thoughts slipped, just for a second but long enough to register how pitiful it was that by now he knew this much about the other man's gestures and even more so, the level of comfort that it brought with it. It took what little energy he had not to dwell back deeper into those contemplations and instead raise from the armchair. Before he even made it halfway, the noise repeated, causing him to furrow his brows. Impatience was a vice from which David suffered in an ignorant bliss.
It took no more than a few seconds between him unlocking the door and muttering out that “come in” before it was pushed open. By then he was already making his way back towards the chair he had been seated on, throwing a glance towards the man that had just entered. Large droplets of rain were clinging to his hair, matting it towards his head. There was no doubt about it, he had gotten drenched on the way here. His skin looked paler than normal, as if stricken by the cold which clung in the air. And still he was smirking from ear to ear as he waltzed into the bathroom only to emerge once more with a towel pressed towards his hair.
“Couldn't have chosen a better day, huh?” David said, his tone far too chipper.
“Wasn't aware that I was now in charge of the weather as well.”
Not once in his lifetime had Dale ever thought of himself as a man which could engage in banter for any prolonged periods of time and still, every encounter with this man was nothing but that. A normal conversation was not even a considerable option whenever they would meet up. Either it would be so cryptic he would have a splitting headache or, the option that he was certain his company preferred, it would be nothing but a juvenile exchange, trying to find ways to prod and jab at one another's characters. A futile battle they both participated in and one which he could see, clear as day, was little more than a protective cloak. Something to hold up so that they would perhaps prolong becoming too vulnerable.
Slumping down into the armchair, he felt how the thoughts would not leave him be. As if the well that was his mind had started to overflow and there was no stopping it from doing so. No matter how he desired to put the lid back over it. How blissful it would have been to throw himself right back into forgetfulness and denial. To be enveloped within their arms and to allow them to suffocate all this pondering. Maybe there had been a point where he could have done so but it was long since gone. Like a train's platform that he had missed. Now there was no choice but to keep riding along, no matter how the next destination's stop would look like.
There was an overwhelming need within his heart, growing ever stronger for each time it beat and, right by its side, that damnable guilt. One which did not need to utter any words, instead letting its presence do all the talking. Filling his inside with an indescribable ache, creeping within his veins like poison. How many times had he tried to fend it off? And how long had it been since he had been able to do so successfully? Why was the mere presence of this man causing all of these shameful desires to bubble up to the surface? Any attempt at finding the answer simply caused him to sink ever deeper into his inner contemplations.
He wanted to be held. To feel someone else there, clutching his weight and allowing him to crumble. Just how many years had passed with this weight hooked onto his shoulders he found himself unable to answer. It felt like centuries. Lifetimes that had dragged on for so long and yet could pass in the blink of an eye. Time never made it any easier, didn't come to heal any of the hurt or sooth the aching within. In the absence of any greater good, of anything that would make the turmoil calm down, he now found himself pouring it all into these encounters. How silent his pathetic begs were for attention. For comfort.
“Dale?”
A breath, so sharp that it felt like a dagger in his throat, slipped out his lips, his head snapping upwards. Perhaps it was little more than his imagination but he found his view blurred. It only lasted for a few brief seconds and then it all slowly faded back in. First the room and then the man stood before him, gazing down at him with those blue eyes that always seemed to have a gleam to them, almost shimmering in the soft glow from the hotel room lamps. For a moment they remained like that, their eyes locked onto one another, silence surrounding them.
“Where did you go?”
It was possibly little more than wishful thinking but within the sentence he thought he could hear a hint of worry, lacking any of the satiric nature which so often plagued David's speech. Raising his own hand, he once more tried to brush it all off. To attempt to rub all the exhaustion out of his eyes and to brush some of the hair away. Where had he gone indeed? To a place where there was only him and all of these thoughts. These horrid little things which refused to let him be. Which always demanded his attention and which sucked what little energy he was ever given out of him.
“Nowhere.”
What an incredibly pathetic answer it was and his voice was no help at all. Low. Grumbling. Betraying exactly what was going on within him. Glancing upwards, he could see that his company wasn't buying it at all. It was seldom that that smirk faded but this time the mask slipped. David rolled his shoulders, giving a slight click of his tongue, weighing his head from side to side. A clear sign of discomfort. Or perhaps displeasure. He was far too exhausted to fully get to the bottom of whatever emotion it was that badgering the other man.
“Sure, nowhere.”
Just as quick as it had faded, the grin soon returned as he stepped forward, shortening the small space between them even further. For a moment Dale found himself once more hesitating, trying to read what gesture would be allowed or not. It was always a hassle to determine. Most of the time they would still keep their distance. Only these last few meetings had he found himself filled with the desire to touch upon the other man's lips, a need which he was still holding back, to the best of his abilities. Giving a small sigh, he managed to convince himself to reach out a hand, allowing to rest upon David's hip, feeling the fabric under his fingers. Worn down by time and weather.
“But now we're here, so might as well get down to business, right?”
He wanted to respond yet found how both his mind and mouth couldn't agree upon what to say. There was the wish, its roots sunken deep within him, to give a snippy reply. To keep up this charade, this little playful fight that would keep him too busy to think about all of the emotions that these encounters were awakening. It was a desire which he found himself unable to follow. Maybe he had gone too deep within the corners of his own mind? Followed it into a dwelling where it had all become clear and now he could do little more than to weigh the cost of accepting it all.
A hand, still gloved, pressed against his cheek. Purely on instinct did he tilt his head, ever so slightly, to meet it up. So tender it was that he found himself frightened at what repercussions it would have. Was it not entirely possible that David had done it just to pull at his leg? Perhaps all that awaited was a laughter and a mocking response on his neediness. A heat was spreading over his cheeks, his gaze falling to the floor, not even entertaining the thought of trying and meet the other man's eyes. His mind was halfway through an attempt at a sentence when he could feel the other man's thumb gently stroking along his skin, causing the heat in his heart to burst forward in a manner he could not recall ever had happened before.
Soon the hand slipped down his neck, caressing over his chest, causing his very veins to feel as if they were filled to the brim with molten glass, its heat soon spreading to all corner of his body. A painful yet comforting sensation and one which once more drew a shaky moan from his lips. His own gestures were slow, clumsy. Fingers reaching out but only manage to hold onto the other man's hair, twisting it between his fingers, feeling how damp it still was. Daring to raise his eyes, he was once more grabbed by the notion that he wished to kiss him. To finally get to know what those lips would feel like. Their softness. Their warmth.
Once more he found how time had slipped between his fingers. When the thought had finally made itself comfortable in his head, the other man had already moved on, dropping to his knees, still with the same smile that leapt from ear to ear. It took an embarrassingly long time for his mind to catch up onto what was going to happen and when it finally did, he found himself too tongue tied to even pose the question if this was okay. Instead he sat in silence, his fingers still buried within the red curls, mesmerised by now effortlessly David managed to undo his belt and what a struggle it was to synch up in his eager gesture to tug his trousers down. The mere contact of his fingers along his member drew once more a moan out of his throat. Low. Subdued. Begging for what was to come next.
The warmth of the other man's mouth sent his mind spinning. Bliss. The only word he could grasp at the moment as he could feel David working away. How effortlessly he moved his head. All the ways that every flick of his tongue drove him well near madness. And all Dale himself could do was to let out more of those moans, his head wishing to lean back yet his eyes not wanting to tear themselves from the view before him. His free hand had now raised to his own face, pushing towards his temples, feeling his own hair falling between his finger. A thousand images flooded his mind. All he wanted to say. To do. All of it little more than mirages in between the waves of pleasure.
He could hear himself whimpering. An attempt at speaking. To ask something. What he was unable to determine. Perhaps an indication of just how close to the edge he was. Or a question of where this was going. The answer he was given was low, rumbling, muffled sounds from the other man, refusing to stop his task. Feeling his own breath growing shorter by the second, Dale once more found his eyes locked onto the other man's expression, a sensation of wonder coming over him.
David's eyes were half closed, his head pushed as far in as he could muster. One of his hands resting comfortably toward the base of his member while the other hand dog into the inside of his thigh. His cheeks, once pale from the cold were now flushed in a red tone. Fully present and yet vacant. That was the only way he could describe the glimmer in the other man's eyes. As if he had slipped away somewhere else yet still had nothing but full focused on this wonderful gesture.
It took little more than a moment for his mind to let go of all these contemplations. To get overrun by this blissful sensation. His head finally pressed back into the chair, fingers pressed closer over his own face in a vain attempt to drown out his final moan. It had done little to dampen it and Dale felt certain that he almost heard the windows shake due to the velocity of it. Relief overtook him, his breath shallow in his throat, his muscles trembling. And then, finally, there was nothing but a soft silence, one which felt the most gentle of caresses.
As his breath started to grow ever more steady, his mind soon returned to the moment. Gently rubbing over his own eyes he soon found how he moved, trying to sit up more straight, his glance once more sinking down toward the man before him. He was already trying to come up with something to say, trying to measure what responses would be appropriate. Perhaps to ask if there was something he needed? A small part of his heart was wishing for more closeness, to not have the moment be over just yet.
All of these contemplations soon died down as he fully took in the view. David's head was rested toward his legs, his fingers still holding onto his pants. Still with the same vacant stare, his breath as shallow as his own. Bathed in the light of the room, he could almost see it all as a painting. One filled with longing, happiness and melancholy. His lips were slightly parted and the ever present smile was for once missing from them.
“David?”
For but a second, he could feel panic within his heart. A sea of worries which rendered him unable to act, if only for a short moment. Then, he let his fingers slip from where they had been resting over the other man's hair and down onto his cheek, gently cupping his face within the palm of his hand. A gesture which at first he was convinced would not be enough but which soon gave effect. Soon he observed how his companion blinked the haziness out of his eyes, slowly drifting back into the moment.
“Where did you go?”
The irony of his own words were not lost on him. And seemingly not lost on David either, as his lips soon cracked up into that familiar grin. This time he found how it actually brought with it more comfort than irritation.
“Oh I went nowhere, nowhere at all.”