But I'm picturing your body with somebody else
It's all Calum could think about at night. He'd toss and turn, would get up out of bed to get a glass of water, but he'd just return to that same empty feeling. He'd just return to the thought of somebody else scratching up Michaels back the way he used to.
He could only picture somebody else making Michael grin, moan, smile in content even, and it made his heart ache.
Because it wasn't him.
Oh how he wished it was him.