FREE⇡RIDE⇣HOME [Elevator Hitch || COTAG]

So he is ticklish...

I get off the bed, almost tumbling over from the sudden change of pressure in my body. Lord, my head is pulsating...

I take some clothes with me and beeline to the bathroom to take a shower.

I don't even twitch when the cold watter hits my back. I just stand there, with absolutely no care in care in the world.

My boyfriend has a comically large mirror stretching from the floor to the ceiling in the shower. I get to judge myself for how I look the entire time...

He probably makes dumb poses and expressions just to admire his own body. What an idiot...

I squint my eyes to analyse my figure better. There are surprisingly no hickeys, and I'd like to keep it that way. For now.

My rashes are healing, but the scabs on my face look really unprofessional. How awesome...

Once the water warms up, my brain turns to thinking mode.

Impotence... He said he's impotent.

Does that mean he... can't get an erection?

And... that it matters, now that we're in a relationship?

Lord... how would two men even do it..?

...Can I even get mine up?

I try to rub myself, while whistling an improvised melody and staring at the beautiful, scenical ceiling to distract my mind from the act.

I can somehow feel the blood rush to my... groin, but it's still soft, even after a whole minute.

This is unethical and I should stop.

I shouldn't even have thought about that. It shouldn't be my responsibility to get myself erect-

I hit my head against the wall on purpose, to shut my stupid, dumb little brain up.

I wash my hands throroughly, and step out of the shower. Man, I'm hungry...

I wonder if my boyfriend made me breakfast today...

"Good morning~" I yawn, as I head to the kitchen, already dressed. "Are you coming to the office today?"

"Yeah, I feel much better already. Good morning!" He responds. He's standing by the table, organising many plates of food so they're fairly symmetrically distanced. However, he himself is wearing an extremely asymmetrical apron.

I walk over to steal a kiss first, leaving him all red, before checking out what's on the table. "Ooh, a whole buffet, I see."

He completely ignores my attempt at starting a conversation, and decides to firmly grab my face like its an object, and gently feel the rashes on it with his thumb. "What are you going to say when people ask you where you've got these from?" He asks.

"I'll probably just say I tripped and fell..." Instead of brushing his hand away, I stroke the warm skin on his palm, waiting for him to pull it away himself. "They'll be gone soon."

"Do you have rashes anywhere else?" He slides his hand over my cheek and neck all the way down to my tie, before carefully writhing his index and middle fingers under my collar, and tracing my collarbone. His fingertips are so dry, that their skin scrapes between the little cells' bumps on mine.

"N-No I... don't... think so..." I say, in a really slow voice, because my mind is much more focussed on whatever he's doing to my collarbone. "The back of my neck, maybe... could you check it out for me?" I turn my head to the side and roll my hair up for him.

He yelps for some reason, yanking his hand out of my shirt. It finds itself on my nape, looking for wounds, shortly after. His face does too, though.

There's a fifty percent chance that he'll push his nose against it, and a fifty percent chance that he'll push his mouth against it. It's a matter of luck whether he'll kiss or nuzzle, and honestly, I don't have a preference. If anything, I want him to do both.

"I don't think there's anything here..." his voice, as well as his breath, vibrate over my neck, sending shivers down my back.

Is it a bad thing that he gets me worked up so easily, by barely doing anything? I've never felt as excited as I feel with him, everytime he does these things...

"Are you still feeling generous?" I ask, referring to the very first time he gave me a free ride.

He bursts out in a fragile laughter, and slowly embraces me, making sure not to torment my rashes any further. His voice is still a little hoarse. "Sweetheart, Darling, Honey, generosity is something you can control. I definitely do not control the perpetual urge to take care of you..."

I groan. “Ooh, shut up… You’re loving enough without words. Just shut up…”
I run my fingers down his vertebra, in an attempt to tickle him. It doesn’t work, so…

He squeals and jumps to the other side of the kitchen when I poke the side of his waist. So he is ticklish…

I run back up to him with a wide grin on my face. He tries to hold me back, but once I reach his abdomen, he falls to his knees. I follow, and continue tickling him, as his laugh gets louder and louder.

Already hopeless, he grasps my glasses, distracting me for a split second, before pinning me to the ground and carefully placing them out of the way. At this point, I’m on the losing end.

I have to giggle, looking at his face in front of me. I can’t see his expression well, but I can safely say that he’s tomato red and tired out.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t try to overpower me. Instead, he keeps me down by my arms, while slowly moving towards my hands and intertwining our fingers.

He utters a few more heavy pants, before his grin completely vanishes, and his eyes lock on me.

I surrender with a warm smile, waiting for him to get off of me, but he doesn’t.

“I can’t believe I finally have you all to myself,” he mentions, completely out of nowhere. “It’s like a gift from God…”

“Right…” I suddenly feel extremely uncomfortable. I throw my head back onto the floor and stretch my neck in relaxation.

“I genuinely love you so much,” he says, as he starts aggressively shaking me up and down. “Being the second one to confess is definitely a weak move from me. Sorry about that.” He scratches the back of his head.

“It’s fine… I’m glad you finally said it, regardless.” I grab his face. “Our employer told me you love me first, actually. Well, I already knew, but–“

“Please,” he begs, “stop talking about him, especially when you have me right in front of you.”

“Well, maybe I do, but I can’t see you,” I mock. “If you give me my glasses back–"

He swiftly places my glasses on my face, and adjusts the temples to sit comfortably behind my ears. “My bad,” he chuckles.

✂