A very short thing that I've wanted to write for a while now. Not a lot of detail or anything. Probably the shortest thing I've ever written.
His eyes cracked open along with the flickered over to the clock on the nightstand. 3:17 am.
He was home earlier today.
He listened to him go into the kitchen, get a glass of water. He thought about going out and welcoming him home, but decided against it. He just lay there, listening to him shuffle around. A door opened, and he knew it was the closet door, and that he was putting his coat up.
He's cheating on you. His friends said.
He's cheating on you. His family said.
The bedroom door opened, and he shut his eyes, pretending he wasn't awake. He listened to the footsteps go past their bed, to the bathroom, and the shower starting up.
He thought about going in and joining him, but decided against it. He just lay there, and his heart hurt. Because he loved him, so much, and he knew that he loved him back, but it didn't make it hurt less. Why wasn't he good enough? What did he have to do, to be good enough?
When they'd moved in together, he'd been so happy. It was such a big step, for his boyfriend, that he thought that his ways were beginning to change his ways, and wanted to settle down. But he was wrong. And he learned that fast.
They were happy together. They had fun together. Since the day they'd met, almost four years ago, he'd known they were soul mates. They did couple stuff together. They went on drives, went to the park, went out dancing, spent holidays with each other. They held hands, and snuggled, and kissed, and they loved each other.
But it wasn't enough.
And he didn't know why.
He's cheating on you. They all kept saying.
And he knew that. Why did they think he didn't know that? But he couldn't leave him. He was drawn to him. Like gravity. Like he was being pulled into a black hole, that would never let him go.
He was all he had. His boyfriend was the only one who made him feel special. His friends said he was just insecure, and maybe that was true, but he thought that they were just wrong. He was nothing special to look at, but his boyfriend made him feel like he was.
The water shut off. The bathroom door opened, and his boyfriend came into the room. He opened his eyes, just a little, pretending that the light from the bathroom is what had woken him up. He made room on the bed, and was joined a second later, strong arms wrapping around his waist.
"Sorry, work ran late again." came the same apologetic whisper.
"I figured." he whispered back, not struggling when the arms turned him so that they were facing each other. He looked into those burning, beautiful eyes for a few brief seconds, then pressed their lips together softly. Once the kiss had ended, he put his head on his chest, holding him as tightly as he could.
He thought about saying, I know what you've been doing. But he decided against that too. Again.
He's cheating on you.
He knew. But he kept coming back to him. And as long as he kept coming back to him, and wrapped his arms around him, and whispered the three words in his ear like he was doing right now, he didn't care.