Our Affair

He was already buttoning up his shirt. Of course he was; it was the same routine, the same script that they’d followed since they first fell down this rabbit hole. He’d come here, sneaking out when his family was busy with something or another he could avoid without suspicion. They’d spend their few hours together, and then he’d slip back before his lover could even realize there’d been any indiscretion. What on earth could make him think that it would ever be anything different?

It was curious, though, watching him try to have some dignity while he buttoned up his shirt, mentally already trying to convince himself that it had never happened, as if that could keep his conscious clear. Shander didn’t love me, which was one certainty as we weaved our way through this labyrinth of pitfalls. The man he was going to return home to still had his heart, despite any barriers that had been erected to protect the poor thing from a lover’s inconsiderate behaviour. Shander was trying not to hurt Ryu by hiding the whole affair from him, but he could admit to me in various forms that it was the same man he was trying to protect that kept bringing him here.

Even now he wasn’t really looking at me. There wouldn’t be much of a farewell either; we’d never really grown fond of a farewell kiss when we had no idea if it was really a farewell, or just a temporary respite. He may come crawling back tomorrow, if his reality was something that needed to be escaped from.

Swirling my wrist, I at least caught his attention for a moment as the ice in the glass clinked together, drawing him back to the fact that I was still here. While he was trying so hard to leave, this was my home, and I was still rather comfortable staying half nude, the pants that had been simply pulled down still unbuttoned on my hips. He was uncomfortable with my state; the only thing that brought a smile to his lips was the cigarette dangling from my lips. Sentimental to a T that one, he was probably picturing his lover.

Ah, it was finally coming to this stage of the game. That pale hand, calloused despite how delicate he looked, withdrew the single silver key from his pocket, setting it down upon the counter and sliding it away from himself. Maybe this time he’d actually have the nerve to call the whole thing off. Maybe he’d finally leave the key there, and work things out with the Irishman. At least one of us would be able to forget the problems circling their life and move on.

Our game, up to this point, was practised to a fault. Unfortunately, I seemed to be the only one breaking the rules. It had only started recently, but… there, in the pit of my stomach, was the twinge at the thought that Shander was never coming back. It was primal, it was stupid and defied all the logic I could throw at it in the hours after the boy left, but it wasn’t going away. Somewhere along the line this had become something more to me, that boy was more than just a toy for my own release.

I should have just stood there, knowingly waiting for him to pick the key back up just before he headed out the door. It never failed, and there was no reason for his to expect it to be any different today.

But I couldn’t even listen to myself anymore.

I had him before he could even think to pull away, pushing him, leading him along until the pressure at the back of his knees forced him back. And I followed him, my body covering him, trapping him against the suede seat. My lips followed his, meeting an unresisting familiarity that soothed me in a way.

For a man so well at conveying human emotions with his literature, there were times when he couldn’t even control his own. The shocked gasp that escaped from him nearly made me smirk, but I didn’t blame him. I don’t think I’ve ever kissed him this tenderly before.

Hovering over him like this, feeling as he quickly began to relish the embrace, arms twinning around my neck, the pale chest arching up against mine. I could almost feel myself edged towards the normal fervour in which we fucked, but my lips continued to do nothing but what they couldn’t do with the one they wanted to.

He was moaning, something soft, something I’d never heard before. Sounds like this didn’t often emerge when you were forced into the situations I’d put this man in. On some level he probably liked this more; it was closer to the comfort that came with his husband. I wanted to hear it more…it suited him better.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, moving in a slow and gentle rhythm. It was still my pace, but like this I didn’t feel like stopping his hands as they moved tentatively across my neck. To be completely honest, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had the chance to simply hold someone like this, to put everything into a kiss.

With that thought piercing into my conscious, I couldn’t get off of him quick enough. Shit. The look in his eyes, still slightly misted, was enough to let me know that he’d felt something that I should have kept locked up. It was a weakness, letting the boy have something over me that was never even offered in the first place. I should force him to leave, without his key just to spite him now. To get the thoughts of what was in that kiss out of his mind. But I couldn’t. I could just sit there, staring at him until he was forced to break eye contact.

This time…I couldn’t watch him as he finished collecting his things. My eyes could only stare out the wide windows, catching the last few rays of sun that still clung on in the coming of dusk. He didn’t say a word, after he’d pulled himself off of the sofa, unable to look back at me. But he did take the key…I could hear the slight scrape of metal as he picked it up, sliding it back into his pocket.

I suppose I got what I wanted from him. He would come back, who knows when, after putting up with his picture perfect alternative family, two fathers and their child, when he couldn’t deal with something again. At least I wouldn’t have to break down enough to call him over. Dignity and pride would keep that from ever happening.

While he could go back home, I’d wait. Things were too busy to remember at every waking hour how much I wanted him to stay the night for once. I had deadlines to meet, book signings to attend, a sick boy in a hospital to take care of. How could I think of him, when all I wanted to do was kiss my lover with tender lips. But he wouldn’t let me, not when he’d get angry for losing more of what we used to share. He probably knew, or at least guessed, that he was being replaced.

At least he knew enough to say nothing, that amount of their relationship still clung to its thin strands. He only stared accusingly, and refused to any any attention to the new book I published, co-authored by the man Tabris now hated. And I couldn’t blame him, I could only return, day after day, to that small, whitewashed room, until I was forced to leave. Then I had nothing but an empty apartment to keep me company…unless he came to bring the key back one more time.