Something Worth Fighting For Sample

I rolled over, the unfamiliar bed waking me further as I groped across the cold, empty space beside me. My sleep fogged brain insisted that the space should be filled with hot, hard man and that woke me completely. I sat up and scrubbed my hands over my eyes before looking around the dim room.

The curtains were drawn and the sky was faintly gray with the approach of day. A familiar figure sat hunched in front of the window and I relaxed slightly. Charlie was still here, just not where he should be.

Too many mornings I woke up and Charlie wasn’t there at all, but on those few mornings when he was real and with me, then he should be in bed beside me not sitting across the room staring out the window.

“What time is it?” My voice croaked the words and I fell back on the over sprung mattress, bouncing slightly. I smiled as memories of the night before passed lazily through my brain. We’d had to make some interesting adjustments to make up for the mattress.

“Just after six.” Charlie’s voice wasn’t sleep roughened or happy.

“Breakfast isn’t until seven thirty. Why don’t you come back to bed?” I snuggled under the covers and rolled to my side to watch Charlie’s silhouette. I could think of several ways to pass the time, if only he was here in bed rather than over there in a chair; although the chair had possibilities. I tried to remember what sort of chair it was, but I hadn’t been paying much attention to the room last night when I’d arrived. I hadn’t seen Charlie for nearly six weeks, which was the longest time we’d been apart in nearly a year.

Even if the chair wasn’t up to supporting both of us, and very few chairs could take much more than Charlie’s weight, it still had possibilities if I didn’t mind kneeling on the floor. I was willing to put up with more than a cold floor for Charlie, but that was something I couldn’t say aloud.

“Charlie, are you coming back to bed?” I realized I’d been thinking for a long time and waiting for him to answer my question. Charlie usually put a lot of effort into stopping me thinking because he claimed it was dangerous to me and everyone around me.

“Just go back to sleep, John.” Charlie’s voice rumbled from the chair.

Go back to sleep? On one of our few mornings together? Cold fear settled in my belly. I had kept Charlie’s interest for nearly a year. Had I become complacent? Had I said something clingy or demanding last night? Anything to suggest that I wanted more from him than sex?

I wracked my brain, but couldn’t remember saying anything that wasn’t to do with sex. I’d told him that I wanted him, but I’d said that often enough before. Charlie told me that he wanted my body more often than I said I wanted his.

He’d been to Canada for three weeks, which was why we hadn’t got together for so long. Had he met someone new there? Some lumberjack who could look him in the eye and match his strength? Had he finally realized that he was wasting his time with a screwed up, boring man like me?

I had been afraid of something like that since we started this relationship. Charlie didn’t have relationships, he had one night stands and brief flings, and probably went to clubs where he fucked someone without even bothering to learn their name. Was it a one night stand if it didn’t involve a bed or more than fifteen minutes?

What did that matter? I suppressed the flare of jealousy that such thoughts always produced; I was used to ignoring that particular emotion where Charlie was concerned. What mattered was that Charlie was here with me now and should be ‘mine’ for the next day and a half before we went our separate ways again.

One thing was certain I wasn’t going to go back to sleep any time soon.


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