There we are. We look like any other couple. Ordering midnight pizza in a too lit hole in the wall. Double vodkas needing mitigation, your hunger insistent after my attempts at distraction. Our order has moved to seventh on the list as this rainy night gives way to morning.
I have my hands under your shirt – blue-check, you never stray too far. I love the smooth of your skin under cotton but more than this I love how you don’t resist, how you lean into my touch. I asked you once – do you mind how I have to touch you? You said - not at all and paused - but it takes some getting used to. So now you are used to this. The way I bite at your ear, the way I do not allow for space between us. I wonder just how far you’ll let me go right here, while others watch and roll their eyes. We have just moved up to number three on the list.
I slide my hands around and down, press myself against you. Hip to hip, an invitation. You sway a little closer and I steal a kiss. I am a thief in these moments, trying my luck against your lips. Emboldened with every territory won, I place your hand under my shirt, offering my landscape in return. I love the dark in your eyes when I test your caution like this. And the slow circles you make before pulling your hand away. Outside the rain comes down just as softly.
There we are. In our last moments. Ordering midnight pizza in a too lit hole in the wall. We won’t know what we’re losing until this night is done. When everything shifts, it will only take a second. A breach that will never repair. But here and now as my hands play under your shirt we can only feel our mutual hunger - and our intoxication.