You make me ache

Ch13: Pizza sauce and Cold tiles.

Tyler's POV.

Releasing a long, heavy moan and arching my back, I stretch my body across the mattress, my fingers hooking into the sheets. I sigh as my back settles back down and I shuffle upwards until I find the propped up pillows. My shirt hangs over the closet door waiting for me to change into it for dinner but instead of getting up, I lean my head against the headboard, yawning sleepily as I do so. Today's spa treatments and a lazy swim with Troye have rid my body of my earlier hangover aches and now the only evidence that is existed is the calming tiredness that washes over my movements. 

 "How about we just order room service again? Breakfast was good- we could have dinner in bed too" I call through to Troye who is still in the bathroom. I cock my head awaiting his answer but no response comes. I sigh hoping that his silence isn't a sign that he wants to go out.  A moment later Troye enters the bedroom, dressed only in a towel with his chest glistening from the shower and the sight only furthers my want to spend the night in. He looks gorgeous and I inhale deeply before beckoning him to me.

"Come hither" I say to him, enjoying the way he rolls his eyes at my summoning hand as he stalks towards me.

"Room service sounds good to me providing we can get dessert" he replies as my hands grasp at his hips and pull him down onto the bed.

"As far as I am concerned, you are dessert" I retort, grazing my lips into his neck as he falls onto me. He laughs at me but lets me continue kissing him as I move onto his collar bone. He lets out tiny, delicious whimpers as I gently suck at his fading love bite. The sound of Troye in pleasure will forever be my favourite sound and soon my hands start to explore his body, tugging at his towel, wanting to find more ways to make him sound heavenly.

"Dinner before dessert" he scolds me playfully, swatting my hands away as he stands back up. I let out a weighted sigh as he walks over to the suitcase and pulls out a pair of thick, grey sweats. My disappointed frown is soon lifted back into a smile as he drops his towel, baring his perky butt, but all too soon he is dressed again. I reach over to the bedside table, grabbing the room service menu and begin to read out our options as I resign myself to feeding Troye before consuming him.

As I hang up the phone from ordering our meals, Troye pounces onto the bed next me, eagerly asking me how long we will have to wait and expressing his 'starvation'. I shrug, laughing at him before suggesting that he finds a movie for us to watch. As he peruses the hotel's small selection of films, I watch him, enthralled by his delicate features. How I ever thought I could remain in a platonic relationship with him still amazes me. He wasn't wrong when he suggested earlier that we were fooling ourselves at the beginning of our relationship- although we had refused to label ourselves, it had been painfully apparent that I would fall for him. The combination of his bright eyes, high cheek bones and contagious smile, mixed with his raw talent, quick wit and extraordinary kindness left me with little chance of doing anything but falling in love with him. That first night that we truly discovered each other had been all kinds of perfection- both intimate and loving, and sexy and wild. The next morning I had known that I couldn't ignore it, like we had tried to with our kisses. Nor did I want to ignore it. Although I was still afraid of the distance and his young age, I knew I had to experience him over and over again- after one night I was hooked. 

 Looking back now, I think we both thought that if we didn't label our relationship, then there would be no pressure to repeat or not repeat our lustful night. Instead we could enjoy each other when the opportunity presented itself but not feel any guilt for enjoying others when we were back in our own countries. This had worked whilst we remained in Italy and later in England- we made the most of each other by intimately discovering what we each liked and how we worked together. Only when we returned to our homes and the miles between us grew, it became harder to convince myself that our non-labelled and relaxed approach to each other was going to work. The cute guys I met on nights out all of a sudden didn't seem that cute anymore and I spent entire dates wishing I was at home, where I could be skyping Troye. I had no idea how he was finding it, he had suddenly but understandably gone very quiet with regards to his love life. I no longer found out about the cute guy he would spot in the street and I had no idea if he was dating or not. This had both scared me and relieved me. I was worried because I didn't want to be missing out on any details of Troye's life, I was after all still his best friend but I was also thankful that I wouldn't have to pretend to tease him and encourage him to date other guys. I had wanted Troye all to myself and now as I watch him fumble with the TV remote, talking to himself as he gets frustrated at not being able to find the correct channel, I can only wonder how it took me so many months to make him mine. I snort softly as he starts bashing randomly at the remote buttons and take it from him before he breaks it.