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The pitter-patter of the rain against the window pane filled the room with a quiet hum that was serene and calming. Wilbur watched the smoke curl out of his mouth as he breathed out slowly. He flicked the ash into an empty beer can on the coffee table before taking another long drag of the cigarette.
A pattering thump louder than the rainfall hit the window and he smiled at the familiarity of the sound. He stumped the cigarette on the can’s lid as he pushed himself off of the couch and headed towards the window.
Peering through the slit of the curtains, his stomach flipped in excitement- as it always did when he found himself looking at Tommy. He wasn’t at all surprised to find Tommy dancing in the rain, hopping from puddle to puddle and it looked as if he was singing too.
“Idiot,” Wilbur whispered fondly as he stepped away from the window to buzz Tommy into the apartment building. Not for the first time, he wondered why Tommy preferred throwing pebbles at his window to announce his presence instead of something more practical, like ringing the buzzer- as normal people were known to do. But he decided he liked it this way- there was romance to it.
And there was nothing quite like being romanced by Tommy.
As he waited for Tommy to climb the flight of stairs up to his first floor apartment, Wilbur thought of how he had come to reconnect with the other over the course of the past year. Gone was the nervous but loud kid he had seen when Tommy was in high school, the years caused something harder to set within Tommy.
But they didn’t talk about it. And he didn’t mind it. All he cared about was having Tommy.
Wilbur opened the door when he sensed Tommy walking along the corridor, his breath hitching in his chest when he was greeted by the sight of Tommy drenched in rain- his wet curls matted on his forehead, his exposed skin glistening with raindrops.
“Should’ve minded the weather forecast,” was all Tommy said before crashing their lips together, soaking Wilbur’s clothes in the process. He kicked the door shut as their limbs tangled hungrily around each other, inhaling the scent of rain and Tommy deeply while they stumbled their way to the bedroom. The light tint of dawn crept through the windows as he stirred awake when he felt Tommy roll out of bed.
Wilbur watched in silence as Tommy grabbed some dry clothes he had left there from the last time they had done this, his eyes tracing the muscles of Tommy’s back when he pulled the shirt over his head.
Tommy bent down to fish for something in his wet pair of trousers that laid on top of the damp pile of clothes carelessly tossed there the night before. Wilbur knew what it was before he even saw it.
“Stay,” Wilbur begged not for the first time, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last.
Tommy silently continued to fish for the elusive object. He shook his head slowly as he turned to face Wilbur, a sad smile etched on his lips. Another piece of Wilbur’s heart chipped away- just like all the other times.
There was something broken in Tommy, a sadness so deep that Wilbur would drown if he ever attempted to delve into its depths. But despite his unhappiness, Tommy never failed to return to promise to make Wilbur happy. He had spent years driving away wilbur’s sadnes only to get stuck in his own. Whenever they were together, it was as though Tommy was stocking up on how to feel again, how to be whole. He would stock up for his sanity, and then he would go home.
It tore Wilbur apart whenever Tommy walked out the door but he gladly welcomed the man every time he came knocking at the door looking defeated and a little broken. Wilbur was more than happy, honored even, to be the one to patch Tommy back together, to bring him back to life.
But it tore him apart, nonetheless.
Wilbur laid on his stomach, his face half hidden in the pillow as he raised his hips to welcome Tommy’s thrusts. His finger clenched the sheets tightly in pleasure, the sounds of their labored breathing and quiet moans filling the room over the sounds of skin slapping on skin- hurried, hungry.
“I fucking love you, Wilbur,” Tommy breathed into his skin as the rhythm of his hips started to falter.
Wilbur’s heart clenched in his ribcage; Tommy’s words were careless- he didn’t mean it, not really, he couldn't.
As Tommy bit down on Wilbur’s shoulder in the heat of his climax, he immersed himself in the pleasurable pain on being marked by Tommy and he clung to Tommy’s words against his better judgment. For a fleeting moment- that one blissful moment- Tommy loved him. And it was more than he could ever ask for.
It was a rare day when Tommy did stay- once in a blue moon. They had lazed in bed after a bout of morning sex as Tommy cheekily stole Wilbur’s cigarette from his lips and took a long drag. Wordlessly, he had pulled Wilbur to him and latched their mouths together. He chased the taste of Tommy, licking into the other man’s mouth as Tommy expelled the smoke into him. He breathed it in deeply, letting the smoke ignite his lungs. A moment passed before they both pulled away and let the remnants of smoke escape their lips. He loved Tommy in these moments; Tommy was always sexy like this.
When they had finally climbed out of bed, loose-limbed and sated, it had been late morning. Wilbur started the coffee machine with Tommy curled around his back, latching open-mouthed kisses along his spine, hands ardently tracing lazy circles on his naked stomach.
Tommy had nipped some skin; it was all it had taken for Wilbur to be driven mad with want. In one swift and practiced move, he had turned to lift Tommy and settled the other man on the counter, fingers eagerly opening him up before his hips started thrusting deeper, harder than he had before.
Tommy had held on like he was afraid of falling- falling into the abyss of all the broken things he was running from- and he had held on like Wilbur was the only thing grounding him, saving him.
Wilbur had fastened his grip on Tommy’s waist and whispered, “I’ve got you, baby”. It was all it had taken for Tommy to cry his climax, clutching, clawing for more, more, more of Wilbur. Have all of me, he had wanted to say. It’s yours. But the whirring of the coffee machine drowned the words in the spaces between them.
They had made breakfast together. And they had talked about their passions, their dreams and all the things they loved, expertly avoiding talks of What about us? Content to be in a world of their own making.
Sitting at the kitchen table, Wilbur had plucked the chords of his acoustic guitar absentmindedly- the same guitar he would bring to cafe gigs he played in his spare time. It was one of these gigs Tommy loved, meeting in a dim cafe was one of Wilbur’s favorite things.
His fingers had continued to grace the strings as he listened to Tommy talk animatedly about his new new job video or plans on making something new that the people would go crazy over. Something warm curled at the base of his chest and he smiled. It was a marvel to see Tommy being passionate about the things he loved.
Wilbur reveled in moments like these, carefully storing them in the deep recesses of his mind. In another life, this could be their every moment, their forever. But in this life, he grasped at anything he could hold on to and fastened a death-like grip around it.
They spent another night in the throes of passion.And another night turned into dawn.Another dawn where Tommy would leave. Wilbur wondered when he became this person who was enthralled by this one man, throwing away any moral fiber in his being. But he couldn’t bring himself to mind.
The answer was simple, he supposed; because it was Tommy.
It was a foolish game they were playing, a constant back and forth that led nowhere. But he would keep playing.
For Tommy.
From the moment they met, there was something between them and that something had sunk its teeth into his heart and made it Tommy’s- always Tommy’s. But Tommy would never be his- not entirely, of that he was sure.
There would come a day when Tommy would stop coming or he would stop opening the door. What they were, what they had, started to end the moment it began- like the turning of the hourglass, its sand dripping slowly, surely, trickling away until the time was up.
That day would come when their time would be up and he dreaded it with all of his heart. But today wasn’t the day. Wilbur stood by the window and watched Tommy trot down the front steps. Then, it started to drizzle.
His eyes followed Tommy as the other man tilted his head up to the sky to welcome the droplets. In the midst of it all, their eyes locked and Tommy smiled up at him- that gorgeous smile of his, making his heart stutter and his pulse quicken.
“Idiot,” he whispered ever so fondly.
What was it about this beautiful man that had him enchanted?
Tommy stood in the rain for a few more moments. Wilbur could see his body relaxing. It was as though Tommy was beseeching the rain to wash away his pain, to mend what was broken. And Wilbur could see how Tommy’s body tensed again the moment his steps continued down the street in the direction of his home.
He set a cigarette between his lips, he breathed in deep and let the smoke dance on his tongue and grace his lungs.Wilbur exhaled, smiling as the smoke drifted from his lips, his eyes trailing after Tommy until he disappeared around the corner.
“My idiot,” he breathed, already counting the hours until Tommy came knocking at his door again.