ALPHA || TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET

021

At five in the morning, we finally found sleep.

After I spilled out pretty much the entirety of the Luke story to Timothée, I stayed curled into him, head nuzzled into the crook of his neck. I felt so ashamed for telling him everything - I didn't know why I had to open my mouth and become so vulnerable, bringing up that part of my life. I wanted to forget I ever said anything.

I changed the subject. It was all small talk, mostly. We were tired. I was suddenly exhausted, but I wanted nothing more than to stay awake with him for a little longer, as long as our bodies allowed us.

Our bodies did. I was pulling at the curls around his ears, sliding my finger down the curves of his jaw. He was drawing circles on my waist and stomach with his thumbs, kissing down my ear. And suddenly I was straddling him, kissing him, our tongues dancing, his hands running up and down my back and thighs, gripping my ass. It was heartbreak, it was fire, it was the baring of souls, much more intimate than sex. And that's what made this time ever so much more electrifying, arresting, intoxicating.

We stumbled to his bedroom, fervently kissing, and he climbed on top of me, helping to pull his shirt off my body. Soon, we were gasping for breath, him thrusting on top of me, running my hands over the now-familiar crevices in his skin, his collarbone, his chest, the curls above his forehead. His arms, the curves in his jawline, his panting breath on my neck.

Afterwards, he was the little spoon, my arm wrapped over his slender waist, my cheek resting on his neck, his hand holding mine. Our bodies fit together like a puzzle. As I was falling asleep, he turned onto his back, sliding his arm under me and pulling me into him, my lips resting next to his cheek, my arm resting on his chest. His fingers grazed up and down my arm, until he stopped, having found sleep.

Nearly asleep, my thoughts entering a dreamlike state, I went back to the first night I spent here, drunk after an intimate night at a bar. How I laid next to him and watched him sleep, only wondering what it would be like to know him more. To hold him as I slept. To be held by him. The gravitational pull in the air that made me wish for it so wildly, that made it all make sense.

And he was there now. Next to me. Surreal couldn't fully describe the moment. What I'd wildly wished for was suddenly here in my arms, at five in the morning on a Saturday, a month after I'd agreed to meet Timothée Chalamet at a nearby bar.

------

a/n: i know this one is short please don't hate me sfkjjgf next one soon!!