With or Without

12. Tong

The effectiveness of Pok's actions was a surprise. As soon as we were underway, P'X sat next to me on the bus and wouldn't let anyone come near me. There was a pretence of casualness when he asked, "Is he your boyfriend?"

"Does that matter?" I asked instead of answering.

"He's very possessive. I think he would have put his name on your forehead if you agreed to it."

"I don't think he's like that," I said, wanting to be done with the conversation.

But my uncertainty about Pok's place in my life and his motives must have given P'X mixed signals because he powered on like I hadn't spoken.

"I've been wondering how you managed not to be snapped up by somebody."

He was still trying to act like my defence of Pok didn't bother him. But he was clearly fishing for information but I had no idea what to tell him. Probably because I had no idea what I could tell him without it being wishful thinking on my part rather than the reality of my non-relationship with Pok.

P'X finished by declaring, "He's such a nice guy."

I was not going to disabuse him of that idea. Not even at the subtle question mark at the end of his sentence. I found it strange that he thought I would have been snapped up by somebody. Wasn't that what Pok had said?

"I think maybe it's easier if we just concentrate on the things that need to get done. Those will be hard enough." I said. I didn't want to be rude but I was done talking about Pok. If that ever changed, P'X would not be the one I would do it with.

If I noticed that PX was a little less accommodating for the rest of the trip, it was between the two of us. Nobody else needed to know he was acting like an ass because I already had someone in my life. What he didn't seem to realize was even without Pok's presence to act as a deterrent, I wouldn't have been interested. There was no room for anyone else in my life.

That was made clear every time I called Pok. I had thought the calls would be awkward but he just asked for an update of how things were going. He told me what he was up to like was perfectly normal to read me into his activities and plans. I thought it would end once I got back.

Only to find Pok waiting when we arrived.

"Does he think that you're a child?" P'X asked contemptuously. "Can't you make your way home without his help?"

I let this snide remark go. There was no use in trading barbs with P'X. I respected him enough to allow that he was taking his frustration out on me—Pok was just an easier focus. A few of his friends give him sympathetic glances confirming that this was uncharacteristic behaviour for him. I could forgive him that. I just wasn't sure I could forgive myself for not having seen it for what it was before it got out of hand.

It was impossible to accept that Pok had been right all along.

Pok was on me the minute we got to my apartment. His mouth on mine. Pulling at my clothes even before I had dropped my bag on the ground.

"Tell me you missed me. Because I have been going insane without you."

I couldn't breathe. But when I did, the pained moan that escaped me belied the wealth of emotion coursing through me. The thought that Pok felt exactly the same as I did, made no sense with the story I had going through my head. It most definitely didn't include him admitting it even if it was true.

"At least let me get a shower first we've been on the road for hours." I said hoping to put some distance between us.

"You're going to need a shower after I'm done anyway. You should conserve the water. Or maybe we should just fuck the shower."

"No." I refused vehemently.

I couldn't have sex in the shower again. Not ever. I could not untangle the memories of the times we'd been in a shower together from the hurt and pain. I didn't want the reminder. I couldn't deal with how it made me feel. What it made clear, even when I refused to acknowledge it.

I was drowning.
I didn't need the fluid reminder.

"Here. Here is better." I offered when I found my voice again.

"Yeah?" He said looking me over like this was the first time he'd set eyes on me. He liked what he saw. "Take off all your clothes. Show me what you've got?"

He already knew everything I had—inside and out. When I told him that he shook his head in silent denial.

"Remind me."

He said laying down on the mattress, then leaning back. Giving me all his attention.

Did he think I was going to do a striptease for him? Apparently, I was. I took my time taking off my clothes. The jacket, the t-shirt, the shoes and socks. My jeans came off bit by bit. Teasing him when I opened my fly and opened the flap so he could see my underwear. Turning to ease them over my ass and down my legs so he had a perfect view of my entire back. I heard his gasp. I saw him adjust his cock in his pant.

When I was finally down to my underwear, I turned back to him but he reached forward in pulled me to him. "You are playing with fire."

"I thought this was what you wanted."

"You have no idea."

Then he proceeded to educate me.

Teasing me through the fabric of my underwear. Pulling me against his body so his clothes rubbed against my naked flesh. It hadn't been that long. But it felt like he hadn't touched me in months. It hadn't come to that—yet.

I had to enjoy this while I could. Take what he was giving me as a gift. Like those bottles that advertised 20% extra free for the same price. This was my extra. Maybe when it was all gone, I would have the memory of it to keep me warm at night.

"Don't stop," I begged him.

It wasn't just because I loved it when he touched me and I wanted him to do it again. It was because I never wanted to be without him. Don't stop. It was a refrain going through my head. A prayer. A wish. Don't stop. I didn't care that he couldn't read my thoughts. I only cared that he kept kissing me, holding me, keeping me.