Cherish

“What’s wrong?” Viggo can tell that something is weighing heavy on his lover’s mind. The sex was great, as usual, but now the man was too quick to get out of bed.

“Nothing. I have an early day tomorrow.” David hated lying to Viggo, but for the past two weeks now he didn’t feel comfortable staying over. He had also taken to making up excuses so Viggo wouldn’t spend the night at David’s place.

He was lying. David was a bad liar, and Viggo sighed heavily. Reaching out he ran a fingertip softly down the other man’s spine. “So stay, and leave early.”

Eyes shutting the redheaded male swallowed hard. Part of him wanted nothing more than that, but another part of him couldn’t stand to stay knowing that he’d get great sex, and nothing else. Viggo wasn’t a big believer in cuddling afterwards, and most times than not would jump out of bed to paint or write. “I really have to go,” he lamely stated, jumping up and giving a little hop to pull his denims up and zip them. Leaning over he gave Viggo a quick kiss to placate him. “I’ll call you I g I get home?”

“Yeah, sure.” Viggo’s lips pursed, and he remained in bed while his lover finished dressing and left. A scowl began to mar the older man’s forehead. He didn’t press David to talk because the man would speak up when he was ready. David was great that way. He didn’t make demands, was a hot lover, and understood when Viggo needed to be alone. That was the artist in him. He could be moody, and often needed to get away from everyone and everything.

Down on str street David walked down the partly quiet street to the busier area of the city. His mind was tng rng roiling with guilt and doubts. He loved Viggo, why couldn’t the older man see that? Or better yet, why had he fallen for an eccentric artist who had often made it clear that he enjoyed their sexual relationship without any fear of ties added to it. “Sonovabitch,” he cursed softly, his hands fisting.

He had a bigger problem if he really admitted to it. Viggo was hot as hell, sexy and moody and just bad enough that David couldn’t resist him. When Viggo spoke in that soft and silky voice and turned on the seductive charm David was putty in his hands. Viggo had a tendency of using one big, callused hand to cup David’s face up, whisper to him huskily how much he wanted him against his lips, and then would proceed to kiss him until his toes curled. How was he supposed to tell Viggo that what they had wasn’t enough? By keeping out of reach of t tal talented hands and lips, that’s how.

With a shrill whistle David hailed a cab. The past six months had been a wonderful sexual haze, but that’s not how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. He wanted to spend his life with someone who would want to hear him say ‘I love you’, and someone who would hold him at night after lovemaking. He didn’t want to be a fuck buddy he wanted to be a lover. Therein lay the difference.

During the drive home he recalled two months ago when he’d let slip his emotions for Viggo in the throes of passion. Viggo hadn’t said anything during the sex, but afterwards, while David still basked in the afterglow the older man had climbed calmly out of bed and eyed his lover. “We need to talk, David. I don’t need you to love me. I’ve done the whole commitment thing, and I have a son. I don’t want to do it again. Not yet. So I can’t tell you I love you. I can tell you I want you.”

David still winced, today, at the memory of those words. Pretending he’d just lost it during the sex he waved it aside as though it had meant nothing. Viggo had hesitated, nodded, and then not touched him again for two days. At first David had held out hope that Viggo would change his mind, but two months had gone by, and the sex was still great, but the romance and affection that made the sex more than just a fuck was still absent. Viggo wouldn’t change his mind, he knew that now, and he also knew that he was going to have to make a serious decision. Leave Viggo, or confront him and see if there was any chance at all at a future together.