Around you his room is warm and dark, one window opened just enough to let in the steady sound of rain trickling away outside. His bed is everything you think a bed should be—large enough for two men to lie together comfortably, firm in all the right places and always cozy, always.Nothing like the cold, narrow bed back at your apartment.
He lies beside you. He’s not modest and the sheets reveal more than they cover—his bare skin is a faint blue in the moonlight falling through the window, and shadows of rain streak across his body. He looks like a merman, hair spread out like seaweed across his pillow, bed sheets tangled around his legs like fins, flesh the color of drowning.