A Night Cap And A Chance Encounter

It took a long while for my body to find the strength to stand again. It took even longer for me to finish cleaning, to step out, to dry myself off, and to wrap myself up in a fluffy towel and head out of the steamy and foggy and warm bathroom into the quiet of the house in the middle of the night.

But soon enough I am. Padding down the stairs and stepping quietly through the darkness of the house. I saw beers in the fridge before I left tonight and I need one to quench my thirst before heading to bed tonight.

The house is silent though, which tells me that Lucas has probably gone to bed already and that would make sense. It isn’t exactly early. We’re deep into the darkness of the early morning hours now and while he was awake when I got home I’d spent more than my fair share of time in the shower running out the hot water. No reason to expect he’d be up.

But when I crack the beer open I hear a chuckle from the doorway anyways, one that makes me jump.

“Busted,” he said, grinning as he was illuminated by the light spilling out from the fridge.

Letting a sheepish grin play across my face I bit my lip and then took a quick sip, hoping perhaps that he wouldn’t take it from me if I’d already claimed it as my own.

“Sorry,” I told him, “I needed a night cap.”

“Poor night cap that,” he replied, shoving off the doorframe and stepping over to one of the cabinets, “For future reference, I keep the good stuff in here.”

He opened the cabinet door and pulled a bottle of something warmly brown and strong out, whiskey or the like. Swinging it against his hip he walked over to a cabinet across the kitchen and opened it to grab out a tumbler to pour himself a finger.

But the second cabinet, the one with the glassware, was right next to the fridge. And it meant that when he stepped over he stepped close to me. Close enough that it wakened all the memories of my body, all the moments and all the appetites.

Even the moments I’d almost shared with him.

It was just a passing moment, not even the slightest brush of physical contact, but it was enough to make me shiver and close my eyes, inhaling a little deeply before he stepped away and I stumbled back a little, putting a hand onto the inside frame of the fridge and letting the cold of it seep beneath my skin and still the fire within me.

“Had too much?” he asked me, a cocked eyebrow.

“No,” I told him with a sly smile, “Not even remotely.”

Lucas sipped his drink and leaned back against the counter, his eyes narrowing as he looked me up and down. I was suddenly well aware and conscious of the fact that I was wearing next to nothing at the moment.

A towel. Simply a towel to cover me. My skin still flush and scrubbed clean from the shower but the way he was looking at me said that he could make it dirty for me if I’d like and maybe I would like that.

Of all the options on offer Lucas was just as messy as any other, messier even maybe. Sure Blake was a bully and Eddie was an asshole and Rachel was a whole bundle of confusion, but Lucas…

Well there is a phrase about not shitting where you eat that comes to mind.

He was home. He was here. He was present.

Falling into bed with him would mean unavoidable encounters in the future. But at the same time the temptation of the older man, the secure man, the knowledgeable man, was undeniable.

“Have a good time at the party?” he asked me.

“I think so,” I replied with a smile, “It’s hard to say.”

His brow furrowed, his tongue slipping out across his lips quickly, “How? I mean it seems to be a simple binary to me. You either had a good time or you didn’t. Right?”

I shook my head, more shaking off the thoughts and the stupor than simply saying no.

“It’s hard to say,” I repeated, “There are bits that are good and others that are… well it’s not so much that they aren’t good. It’s something else.”

“What?”

“It’s that they’re unsatisfying,” I told him, “But that can always change.”

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