With a confession

They wake still tangled. The mess is on her thighs and on the sheet, dried at the edges, and neither of them moves away from it at first. Morning light shines through the curtain. His arm heavy over her waist. She turns her head and he is already looking at her, face soft with sleep, the two nights still on both of them.

They kiss. Soft. Sleep-stale and unhurried. Just the kiss, and then another, her hand on his jaw, his thumb on her cheek, the kind of morning that does not ask to be filmed.

Lana stays on her side, facing him. She has been holding it in for days. Through the kitchen counter. Through Mia’s call. Through the slow sex and the tears he wiped. Through last night. It has sat in her head unsaid.

“I have a confession,” she says.

His eyebrow lifts. He does not tense. “Okay?”

“There was that night. You’d fingered me in the hall, licked your fingers, told me it was time for bed, and gone to sleep. I came in bottomless. ”

Adam’s face changes. He does not pull away. His hand stays on her waist.

“I woke up later,” she says. “Your hand was on me. You were hard and your cock was snuggled between my thighs, pointed at my cunt. I was soaked, even in my sleep. I remembered when we dated. Sometimes I’d wake up and you were already inside. I wondered if you’d do it again. I moved a little. Just a little. You started thrusting in your sleep. Rubbing your cock on my pussy. You did it for a while.”

She watches him hear it.

“I came with my hand on my mouth so I wouldn’t wake you. Then you came. Between my legs. All over me. A small groan. You pulled me closer, cock still nestled there, and kept sleeping. You never woke up. You never knew. I went back to sleep smiling. I never told you. I didn’t know if it counted as something to confess or something to keep. So I’m saying it now. While I still can. Before the flight.”

He is quiet long enough that she wonders if she should have left it in the dark with the other unsaid things.

Then he laughs. Short. Real. Almost fond. The shock folding into something warmer instead of worse.

“I came in my sleep. On you. And you just lay there and let me?”

“I came first,” she says. “Then you finished. I didn’t move. I liked it. That’s the rest of the confession. I liked waking up to it. I liked that you didn’t know. I liked going back to sleep with you still between my thighs.”

He shakes his head, smiling, thumb moving on her hip. “You’re ridiculous. Both of us. I don’t even remember a dream. I might not have had one. I just… did that.”

“You just did that,” she says. “And I kept it. Until now.”

He looks at her and pulls her closer.

“I’m telling you while you’re still looking at me like this,” Lana says. “Tomorrow morning you’ll be at an airport. I wanted it said in this bed. Not in a text.”

He kisses her forehead. Soft. The laugh still in it. He sits up. The sheet falls.

“Get the shower ready,” he says.

Lana watches him. Naked. Unashamed. The morning ordinary and not. The confession sitting between them, lighter than she feared.

“Are you going to join me?”