Coming Home

It’s been a long hunt. A long time away from home. Along time away from you. I was dead on my feet and it’s late. I am eager to see you but I don’t want to wake you.

Our apartment smells like you. God I missed it. I linger in the wide open space between the living room and the kitchen remembering the last dance we shared while you sang to me. I don’t remember the song. I never do. I just remember your voice. The baritone sending shivers down my spine while you sing only for me.

The room is dark and I trip over something on the floor and wonder what it was but not enough to make me look or turn on the light. I know the way to our room and find the door ajar. A small light peaks through the door frame. I stand outside listening, but I can only hear the soft breathes you take as you dream.

I push the door open slowly. It creeks at the end and I stopped it before it wakes your slumber. But I’d been wrong, you are sitting against the headboard smirking at me. “You knew?”

That laugh you do when you know you are right, that goes straight to my cock and you know it, echoes in the silence of our room. You tap your forehead with that gorgeous smirk. “You are so fucking loud pretty boy.”

I drop my bag on the floor and crawl over the foot of the bed up your bedding covered body. I’m overwhelmed with the scent of you. I press my forehead against yours and sigh as you cup my chin in your hand, the other snaking behind my neck pulling me closer to kiss.

I can’t help the soft moan that escapes my lips. You pull me closer as you scoot down in bed. I’m gone before you flip the lights out. I missed being home… I missed you.

(As a side note, this doesn’t go anywhere, was just a feeling I was having.)