which was of course, I love you.

8.

Boris didnt stay long that night, just until I had fallen asleep around 2AM. I expected him to leave, of course. He had told me that he would stay until I slept as soon as I started getting tired, which soothed me a great deal. What I didn't expect, though, was to wake up yelling Boris' name after a dream about my mother, expecting him to be there. I reached around for him in the dark, breathing shakily and beginning to cry when I realized he hadn't stayed. I picked up my glasses from the nightstand, putting them on and turning the lamp on. I picked up my phone as well, calling Boris after I had the lamp on. He picked up after the first ring. "Da, Potter? What is wrong?" He sounded anxious. I tried to hide the fact I was crying when I spoke. "Boris.. hic ..I need you to come back." I had very obviously failed, making some weird kind of choked sobbing noise. "I am on my way, kochanie. Stay on the phone with me, yes?" "..alright." "So, potter, what is bothering you?" "..I had a dream.. -a..about my mother. And you weren't there and I-" I began to sob. "Shh, shh, potter. Am almost there." After a bit of him rambling in russian to his driver, he began to speak to me again. "Okay Theo, am here. I will be in soon." "..okay". I hung up and did the only thing I could. Wait. Soon, Boris was in my room, setting his coat on my chair and sitting next to me in bed. I immediately wrapped my arms around him, kissing him desperately. I longed for his familiar taste, cigarettes and alchohol. When I was 13, I had hated his taste. But I had grown to love it, and to have a need for it. I guess you could say I was needy, I mean, even Boris said I was. He would always be saying things like 'My, potter. So needy for me. Ha!'. Whatever. I was brought back from my thoughts as Boris began speaking to me. "Potter, am so sorry for leaving. I knew this would happen. I should've just stayed the night with you." I smiled, resting my hands on his collarbone. "Thanks for coming back." "Of course, Theo!". We laid down, spooning eachother. I set my glasses on the bedside table and clicked the lamp off, expecting Boris to be asleep soon as well. But then he said something unexpected, or rather whispered it. "Potter, we have not fucked in a while, hm?" I was instantly blushing. "Uhm.. no, no.. we haven't." He hesitates, continuing after a moment. "..would you like to?" I paused for a moment. "..yes." Immediately he's on top of me, pulling my shirt off and kissing all over my neck and chest, causing me to whimper and moan. Next his shirt is off, next to mine on the floor. I rest my hands on his back, feeling the scars that my nails left on him years ago. "..jesus christ, boris. I left scars?" "Ha! Yes, potter. Your nails hurt like bitch! I let you do it though, there wasn't much stopping you while you were like that." "What do you mean 'that'?" "You know, needy as fuck. In the middle of sex?" "Oh." We both start laughing, stopping as soon as he starts pulling my pants and boxers off. The next morning, my legs and thighs hurt like a bitch, and Boris had to wrap his back because of how many new scratches there were.