Don’t go. Please, don’t go.
Each silent desperate plea is accentuated with a rough thrust into the lean body beneath him.
Don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.
Billy’s face is flushed pink, eyes shut, hands gripping tightly at the sheets beneath him.
Please don’t leave.
He feels the tears rolling down his face, mixing with the sweat on his upper lip, his neck, his chest. Rolling lower and lower, over the muscles of his abdomen and into the fine thatch of hair to the point where their two bodies meet.
Say you won’t forget.
Billy’s moans are getting louder the closer he gets. He can feel his own body tensing in anticipation.
Don’t go. Please, don’t go.
A choked sob escapes his lips as comes. But Billy releases with such an intense scream, that his own sound is smothered into silence.
Don’t leave me.
He slides out of the delicious heat even as the reverberations of his orgasm run through him. A part of him wants Billy to just roll over and go to sleep. Anything so he doesn’t see the sadness, the desperation, the fear in his eyes.
Please don’t leave.
The other man turns over and rests his head on Dom’s chest. He places a kiss on the bare skin and sighs. And to Dom’s ears, it is the most beautiful sound in the universe.
I don’t want to be alone.
He strokes Billy’s hair until the last tear rolls out of the corner of his eye and onto the pillow beside him. Lids, heavy and red-rimmed, flutter shut as he drifts off into a dreamless sleep.
~*~
Morning came way too swiftly for Dom. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know that Billy had gone. Lack of hot breath on his chest, no leg curled over his own, all signs the other man had left. He tried to keep his eyes closed, he really tired, but the sun’s rays found purchase behind his eyelids and he had no choice but to open them.
A folded scrap of yellow paper lay on the pillow beside him and he reached out and grabbed it. He imagined he could still feel the warmth of Billy’s hands on the paper and unfolded it. He stared blindly at the three words.
I love you.
Part of him hoped that it was true, while the other part crumbled like ash. He rolled over still clutching the scrap of paper in his palm and cried.
~*~
The plane ride back to London was long, to say the least. Let no one say first class isn’t worth the extra cash, he thought wryly as he sipped his third rum and coke. At first, he had wanted to drown himself in the brown liquid but the fact that there were limitations to the amount of alcohol a passenger could imbibe ruined that plan. The drowning would have to wait until he reached his flat.
The cab ride from the airport passed in a blur and it wasn’t until a very irate driver clipped him on the shoulder that he realized he was home. He grabbed his bag, paid the driver and then made his way inside. The flat was just as he had left it almost two months ago, except for the musty smell. He headed toward the row of windows and threw one open. The cool air washed over his face and he inhaled deeply. Home. It felt so odd to be here. He grabbed his bag and made his way into the bedroom. Throwing his bags onto the floor, he plopped down onto the mattress and sighed.
~*~
A week had passes since that morning he had woken up and found Billy gone. He had gone out that first weekend with some of his old mates and gotten throughly sloshed, but not even that could take his mind off the Scottish man.
Another week passed without any word and Dom found himself trying to stay constantly busy. A moment of boredom led to thinking, thinking led to Billy and Billy . . . well Billy led to heartbreak and he had had enough of that for one lifetime.
He headed downstairs to the post box with a sense of dread. After the first week, he had given up hope of any correspondence and stopped checking the box four, five, six times a day as he was wont to do. He pulled the pile of bills and credit card offers out and shuffled through them quickly. A handwritten envelop caught his eye and he pulled it out, searching for any sign of its sender, but there was no return address. He tore open the flap and slid out the contents.
A one way ticket to Los Angles stared him in the face.