The Safeword is 'Papa' (ch.8)
#8 of The Safeword is 'Papa'
The air from the slowly-churning fan lanced my face as I laid there in the dark, gently combing my fingers through his fur.
Nick had fallen asleep on me. The little cunt pocket.
For the longest time I just stared up at the ceiling, watching the blades stir the air. I listened to the rhythmic rise and fall of Nick's breathing, menacing his flicking ear with the tip of a claw.
I love you, you slimy piece of shit.
His head weighed a ton on my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe. Can't say I minded though.
I could feel his heartbeat through my belly. He squeezed me in his sleep like I was his stuffed plaything, snuggling down against me, a contented grin on his face.
I love you, you enormous pain in my ass.
His ear kept flicking underneath my chin. I carefully gathered it up in my paw, pressing it to my lips, kissing into it.
I love you, you unimaginable bastard.
Full disclosure: my ass hurt. Or rather, it was profoundly sore. Which I guess I should have expected, given the size difference between us. He probably rearranged some stuff up there while we were going at it.
The bedside alarm read 2:04 in big boxy fluorescent numbers. I slipped my paw into his, marveling at how our fingers dovetailed together so perfectly.
I knew that it wouldn't last.
Even then. Even there on the bed, as we held eachother. Even as I was falling head over heels in love with him, a part of me knew that it couldn't last forever.
The day would come when I would fuck this up. When I would push him away for good. It had to happen. There was just no way it wouldn't. I knew myself too well to believe otherwise.
I gathered his ear up again, pressing it back to my lips. "I love you," I whispered softly.
"Mmmf," Nick stirred in his sleep, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Love you too babe."
I shook my head, throwing my arm up, hiding my eyes in the crook of my elbow. At the very least, once the shit finally hit the fan, I'd have this night to remember. The way he touched me. The way he kissed me. The feel of him pushing inside me for the first time. I'd get to re-live these memories whenever I wanted, up until old age and senility took them away from me.
I made a silent promise right then that, futile though it was, I would try. I'd try my best to be the boyfriend he needed me to be, for as long as I had him for. Whether that was a few months or a year or two. And then, once the train finally rolled off the tracks, I'd go back to being the best friend I used to be. No awkwardness. No messy transition. Easy.
I'd still love him, of course. Afterward. From afar. Maybe forever.
But all that was well out of sight, far down the road. Right then, he was mine. I could kiss him, touch him, and play with him all I wanted.
And y'know what? The thought of that had a little grin on my face as I finally drifted off to sleep. With Nick's head heavy on my chest.
Listening to the gentle rise and fall of his breathing.
THE END