This is the revised version of Attraction
I woke up without a single thought in my head. Clear. Cleansed of everything until I realized where I was. So much had happened the last few days, and it all came crashing back like the repetition of events in a bad rom-com.
The other side of the bed was painfully empty. Would it have been easier if Tom lay there? If he'd been looking at me with a soft, tired gaze. It was all illusions, and I knew it better than anyone that fairy tales were for children, told by their parents in order to keep their awe of the world. To preserve their innocence when the world outside was a harsh environment where cut-throats thrived and death was inevitable.
I sighed and shrugged off the cover. There was no reason to be bitter on a fine day like this. Sunlight reflected in the windows across the street created a glittering spectacle. Beams of hope appeared to dance and tease, testing my resentment.
A clatter of dishes disrupted my calm, effectively pushing me to high alert. He was out there. He hadn't left. Yet.
I ran my palm over the sheet where he'd slept. No warmth lingered, but the sheet was creased with memories. It was probably the first time I'd slept together with someone without having sex. A pity.
The disorder around my bag in the corner stood out in the otherwise neat room, but the chaos would remain until he'd given me access to some kind of closet. Letting the curious cat get the best of me, I opened his before I could change my mind and peered inside.
I almost laughed when I saw the row of identical dark suit jackets. The cut was the same on each one, tailor made most likely. I had a feeling Lara wouldn't allow him to wear anything less. Behind the next door I found a bit more color, but not a lot of variety. It was a huge relief that he hadn't sorted the shirts based on hues because that would have freaked me out.
I'd had a friend in Stockholm who had his closet full of blue shirts, all of them virtually similar to the untrained eye. It had been a riot each time the guy had asked for my opinion on which one to choose when we were going out. No one but him could tell the difference, but it mattered to him, so I'd been picking one on random each time, telling him in length why he should pick that one in particular. It had seemed to make him happy at least.
Another clatter sounded from the kitchen. Backing away from my obvious breach of privacy, I shut the doors as silently as I could.
Like any guy with a sense of style and self, Tom had a full-length mirror in the hallway. I checked my appearance, wondering if it was too leisurely to approach the kitchen in just a T-shirt and underwear. I wasn't all too fond of the idea of showing him less than perfection, but I needed a shower first to correct that detail. My blond hair was a mess, and I had a vague idea that I smelled too much for my comfort.
I stared at the reflection, berating myself for being far too self-conscious. Tom wouldn't care. He didn't care.
Tom looked up from the newspaper when I became visible in the doorway. "Mornin'."
"Good morning." I was about to ask if he slept well, but it struck me as too awkward. Too polite. If there was such a thing. Perhaps it was the right thing to say, but I didn't have much experience with staying over at someone's place. At least not for breakfast.
Tom stirred his coffee, lowering his gaze to the newspaper again. I'd been right to fear my clothing wasn't up to par. The guy already wore his suit—his body armor. He seemed impenetrable with it on. I liked him better in just a shirt and briefly entertained the image of him in a leather jacket. I'd love to see that one day. Gosh, I had to stop staring at him.
"Can I use the shower?"
His face was a fucking mask. "Of course. You don't have to ask permission."
"Great." I fled into the bathroom, only to back out again as I realized I hadn't unpacked my towels. They were in a box somewhere, standing in the middle of the living room as a proof of my invasive behavior.
I tried to keep my eyes on the task as I passed him where he sat by the round table, stirring his coffee again for some unknown reason. Okay, so maybe I couldn't help sneaking a glance.
All too aware that he was in the same room, I leaned over and rummaged through the boxes one by one. If I'd had any foresight whatsoever, I would have written something on each one of them for guidance, but I wasn't that smart apparently.
My ass was exposed, and damn if I didn't wiggle around with it a bit more than necessary despite my relative discomfort. I had to show myself as well as him that I was still the same. Because I was still the same flirt as ever. He just had this habit of making me forget my place.
He cleared his throat at one point which tugged at the corner of my lips. Maybe walking around in my underwear hadn't been such a bad idea after all.
"What are you looking for?"
Hah! It sounded as if he'd had enough of my teasing.
I stood up to my full height, giving him all the suggestion I could muster. "A towel." Another grin tried to escape as I thought of dragging him with me into the shower. Also for another day, most likely.
"You can borrow one of mine."
"Nah. I'm sure it's here somewhere." I leaned over again. This was fun.
I almost cursed when I found the towels I'd brought. Taking the bright pink one, I wondered if he would give me that look only he could pull off.
"Found it!"
As predicted, I received a stale stare paired with that small hint of a smile that seemed eager to escape.
I took my time in the shower, making sure to use as much as I could of Tom's body wash. It smelled heavenly and was of a much better quality than mine—which irked me until I remembered that it was a good thing that he cared about himself. I would take care of him too if he let me. I'd lather him up real good, spoil him with suds and roaming hands. Then I would rinse it off and make him dirty all over again.
I chuckled as my erection bobbed, wondering what Tom was thinking about while seated at the table. All guys masturbated in the shower so perhaps he took for granted that I had a bit of fun, but even if my dick begged for attention, it felt wrong to do it when Tom sat outside. If he'd been with me, that would have been another matter.
"Down boy," I whispered, knowing full well that I had myself to blame.
* * * *
The lack of sound in the apartment didn't hit me until I stopped whistling. I was half-way out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed and ready to face anything when the muted atmosphere caught me off guard.
Padding on bare feet across the dark floor, I felt the emptiness before I could confirm that he'd left. It was hollow and sore, almost painful.
His chair by the table stood alone, the cup was gone—replaced by a piece of paper.
I'm off. Don't know if I'll be back Sunday or Monday. Make yourself at home.
I read the note several times over, not because of his handwriting but because of the words. Make yourself at home was nice enough, but I wasn't sure this qualified as a note worthy to keep for future reference of his sweetness. He hadn't even had the courtesy of saying goodbye.
Scrunching the note in my hand, I noticed that he'd placed a key beneath it.
Home. I couldn't really relate to that.
* * * *
It took me no more than three hours to find myself in a bit of a state. The apartment without Tom felt entirely foreign. Despite my plates in the cupboard and one or two trinkets placed around the living room for decoration, it didn't feel like I belonged.
The solution was to run away, which I did, but in a much more dignified manner. I strolled down the street with the excuse of making myself familiar with the surroundings. It was a nice part of town, but less lively than the streets around Dante's flat. Thinking of Dante made me think about Chris, and I wondered why the hell I hadn't called him sooner.
I checked the time, making sure that it was an appropriate hour to call. Surely he would be up at noon.
"Hey," he replied, sounding as chill as ever.
"Hey, what's up?"
"I'm about to board."
"What? What did I miss?"
"Didn't I tell you I was going on the tour?" He sounded surprised. Maybe he had told me. It was more than possible. I'd had other things on my mind lately.
"Yeah. Sorry. Around the lakes, right?"
"Yes. How are you?"
The dreaded question. I knew it didn't require a truthful answer, though. "I'm good. Just bored."
"Sucks, man. You should have been here."
Thanks, Chris. Really. "It's all right. Have fun and I'll see you when you get back."
"Sure. Have fun in the city."
"I'm never really bored, you know that." I was the guy who was supposed to have fun all the time. Couldn't give him a reason to doubt that fact.
"I know."
"Say hi to the others." I regretted the words almost immediately. It would be crazy weird if Chris said 'hi' to Tom from me.
"I will," he replied just before I closed the call.
I stared at the phone, almost walking into a dude in the process. His shoulder bumped into mine, and I could hear him curse at me. It was ridiculous. Didn't he have more important things to be upset about? Was his life so free of trouble that a minor misstep was enough to make him angry?
The thought of the freaky four on tour made me strangely sad. I knew it was different with Chris. Of course he belonged with them. Chris and Dante were a real couple with more than enough reasons to spend time together.
Shaking my head, I thought about how awkward it would have been if I went with them.
I didn't belong. At least not yet. So, if I had to be alone instead, I would make the most of it. That included getting all my clothes into Tom's closet.
Surely, he wouldn't mind...too much.
A/N another piece of fan art from @mzblue222 <3 Also, I know there are not so many changes to the story yet, but we're getting there. Trust me on that!