Page 9 of Tribute Act

We lay there, silent and awkward in the darkness. I felt strangely awake, hyperaware of him lying beside me, still and unhappy. I could sense his unhappiness, and it bothered me. I wasn’t sure how I knew he was miserable but I did, I knew.

At last I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Do you want to change your mind about that hug?”

“What?” He sounded so surprised I almost laughed.

“Why don’t you let me hug you? It might make you feel better.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he muttered. Then, almost crossly, added, “All right, fine. If you want to.”

He was facing away from me and he started to turn, but I said, “Stay where you are.”

He stilled, and I snuggled myself up against him, my groin against his buttocks, my torso against his back. I tucked my legs up like his, spooning him, and draped my right arm over his side. Kissed his shoulder. A little shudder ran through him.

For a little while he lay stiff as a board in my arms, plainly uncomfortable. But gradually his body relaxed until finally, his breathing grew slow and steady and he was sleeping again, peacefully this time.

I must have fallen asleep soon after.

I woke just once more that night. I’d rolled away from him at some point and he was reaching out to me, touching my hip.

“Don’t go,” he whispered. “Hold me.”

So I did.

It was hours later when I woke again. It was still dark, and I was briefly confused as to my whereabouts. Then I remembered. I was in Mack’s hotel and, discount or not, the giant bed was supercomfortable. I had fallen asleep in my usual position, lying on my right side, facing the door. I didn’t have to turn over to know I was alone.

I could feel that I was alone.

Sure enough, when I sat up, the other side of the bed was empty.

The darkness was puzzling, since I was feeling incredibly well rested. Leaning out of the bed, I hooked up my discarded jeans and fished around in the pockets for my phone, swiping clumsily at the screen.

10:09.

The fuck?

I glanced at the window. There was one line of bright sunshine where the curtains didn’t quite meet in the middle. Black-out curtains.

Oh well, at least I wasn’t due in for a shift in the café today—though I had planned to make an early start on the paperwork mountain waiting at home...

I got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, where I took a long morning piss. I stared at my dick and thought about what I’d done with it last night. About Mack’s face as I’d pushed my cock into his mouth. The way his body had arched and writhed under me as I fucked him.

His words in the night between us.

“Hold me.”

Had Mack had left, or had he just popped out for some reason and intended on coming back? And if he did come back, would he be up for another round of sex, time allowing? When did we have to leave the room anyway? Wasn’t it usually eleven for checking out of hotels?

I slouched back into the bedroom, switched on the lights, and cast my gaze about the room. The rucksack and guitar case were gone.

Then I spotted the note.

Nathan,

Didn’t want to wake you, sleeping beauty :-) but I’ve got to be somewhere today, so I’m off. Room’s paid—you’ve got to be out by 11.

Have a great life.

M