Rating: Over all NC-17, this chapter PG-13
Warnings: M/M, slash
Summary: Given the chance, would you erase someone from your memory?
Feedback: Please do. Seriously.
"What took you so long?"
Usually, when I go to a hotel, I have certain things I do first. Call it a ritual, if you may. I unpack, I sit on the bed and test the strings, I take a good look at the place so to know where I am. This time, I tossed my bag on the floor and grabbed the phone. I left my mobile home, so I could not call the bloke I met in the train before I got to a hotel that had room. I was lucky, and the first try was successful.
But this time, for God knows what reason, I threw all my comforting rituals aside and dialed the number the boy had given me, and the sweet voice was pouring honey to my ear again.
"I just got in." I smiled to the phone. I felt relaxed when I heard his voice. I liked the way it purred to me, I could imagine him standing there, his chocolate brown hair fuzzy and his deep dark eyes glittering with a subtle smile.
"What are you doing?"
"I mean after you have finished your call to me?"
"I don't know. Why?"
"I have somewhere I want to take you."
I was standing on the road, shivering in the brisk night. I had no idea what I was doing. I don't go out with complete strangers, I don't call people I meet in trains, this all is just absolutely not me. And still, it feels like the most natural thing to do.
I light up a cigarette to calm my nerves. I've always known that I fancy men. Hell, I've had enough lovers to know what it is all about. Still, this young man makes me nervous. He makes me anticipate for something. I've only met him and I already have these strange images in my head about us. Images I'd rather control than let loose.
The car stops next to me and he smiles through the window.
"Come on, the night is not going to last forever."
"Where are we going?"
"I'll show you."
This young man is the most exiting thing I've ever encountered. Just getting into his car makes me feel more alive than I've felt in ages. Why did he ask me to go with him? Does he feel the same I do? What am I feeling?
We stop in front of a stranded beach. The waves hit the sand slowly, like in a dream. The tender voice of the night makes me feel safe. I hide my hands in my pockets, as I don't know what to do with them. He smiles, looks at me and sighs.
"You don't see this during the day, mate. You gotta see it at the night. No streetlights to stop you from seeing the stars, no noise apart from what you make yourself."
"I like it."
"You don't talk much, do you?"
I look at him. He leans to his car, smiling at me. "No, Not usually no."
"So you paint?"
"Yeah. That's how I make a living."
"That's pretty cool. Would you paint me sometime, perhaps?"
"If you'd like." I don't know why I agreed to it, but he looks like a model anyway. He has a face that would make a canvas sing praises. He takes a few steps and stands next to me.
"Let's run to the waves."
"Are you mad?"
"I've been accused of worse."
I feel my heart skip a beat.
We run to the sea. The salty water makes my shoes wet, but I don't care. I almost fall down, and he grabs my hand, his eyes laugh. I am fascinated by this gorgeous creature. I don't know what to do with him.
He's still holding my hand, his eyes smile with that vivid light that they seem to posses all the time. He pulls me closer, his breath on my cheek. I look at him, not knowing what to do. Is this an invitation? Is it a mere friendly gesture?
"I am a total fuck-up, you know."
"I'm sure you're not."
"I am. People seem to think I save them, I make them alive. I don't. I'm just a fucked up guy who seeks for his own piece of mind."
I don't know what to say. I don't have to say anything. His lips are on mine, gently, yet dominantly. I feel his tongue penetrate my lips, my head tilted to allow him a better access.
I am sold.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" He whispers as he's stroking my hair with gentle hands.
"I wish you did." I reply, breathless.