SLEEPSONG (BoyxBoy)✔️

Chapter 71

Chapter Seventy One

I dreamed of him.

I dreamed of his warmth, of his arms around me, of his powerful embrace as we became one.

I dreamed of his eyes, looking into my own as if to burn every second, every expression, every minute change in my breathing into his memory. 

I dreamed of a better future with him, walking through endless nights with his hand in mine, together, neither one of us alone or suffering, content and at peace because of the boundless emotional support we would lend each other. 

I dreamed of all this.

I'd missed loving someone and being loved so much that it had left a gaping void in my chest. I'd spent years thinking I was unlovable, that I couldn't be with someone because of what I was and everything it stood for, had told myself over and over again that I didn't need it.

I'd wanted it, so badly, but I hadn't needed it to survive.

Suddenly having that feeling back... it was like a dream.

I had gone from being broken and alone to belonging with someone else as their beloved, all in one single moment with the promise that it would never slip through my fingers again, and it was like more of a dream than the ones I had when we finally fell asleep in each other's arms.

I'll be real, though.

Even though it had been an experience that had sent my head clean through cloud nine and somewhere off in the reaches of outer space—good Lord, he knew what he was doing—I'd been sore as fuck when he'd finally thrown in the towel around ten A.M. 

He and I had gone at it for literal hours since he'd seemed to have no end to his stamina.

I had actually been completely unable to walk after we'd sealed our promise, I'd been that sore, so he'd gently carried me back to my room, had tucked me into bed, and had then slid into it beside me and held me close to him. Nudity had meant nothing after that. 

I'd run my hands all over him, marveling at his muscles, all of the walls gone.

Holding him close and basking in the intensity of the brain-numbing afterglow.

His hand settled on my rear as we lay there, looking at each other in silence, processing.

"No one will ever dare to touch you with my scent in and on your body," he'd told me, stroking my cheek and pressing a deep kiss against my forehead. "I've completely marked you as my own. This is the moment your new life begins. If you desire it, I will give you the world." 

The world... of all he could have promised, it was that.

I'd known he'd meant those words. It wasn't a joke or an exaggeration, he could have given me anything I wanted--I mean, he'd bought the entire dance club he'd taken me to on our first date just so he could force them to play the music that I had personally made and remade. 

I wasn't an idiot. An establishment like that club was worth at least two million to three million dollars upfront in the present day and age, which meant that he truly had enough money to buy whatever he wanted. You know what, though? 

I didn't want the world. 

I didn't want fancy things. 

I didn't want tons of new clothes, or cars, or a nice house.

I wanted for very little... maybe a new video game here and there, a few good books elsewhere, occasional technology upgrades for making my music--and all of those were things I had already been doing for myself since I wasn't exactly the poorest person on the block. I was by no means rich, of course, like... at all, especially not compared to him, but I still made more than I spent.