Sonny
I miss him. How can I miss him, now that he's with me? Let me remind myself that I've hurt for months because I couldn't date him. Maybe I miss his lips, so soft and swollen, that he's wrapping around mine, as if I'm his Mounds candy bar. Or I miss his hand, the one that keeps going into my hair, pressing lightly against my skull... Truth is, I miss something that hasn't happened yet: him lying next to me, in my bed. Or his, I'm not choosy. Or the back of my car or the beach, or the moon...
The cold water is effective but it doesn't take away THE question: how long? When can I make a move without Will freaking out? I love him so much, there's no way I'm making that kind of mistakes. He is making my body short-circuit and I know he wants me. The way he asks for making-out is so adorable. But that's just the thing. He's inexperienced. He's innocent and trustful. There is no way he had... anything with other guys, I'm sure of it now. I begin putting clothes on, still pushing away inappropriate pictures of my Will-o'-the-wisp out of my mind, until I look down and strip up. Will is messing up with my sense of fashion. I'm wearing my ski pants with my warmest pullover. And it's late spring.
He's working today and so am I. I have a phone meeting with a supplier and Chad and I must interview a new barista and there is no way I'm not touching Will before noon. He's living at his grandma right now, 'cause she lives the nearest to his job. I have plenty of time, since I've woken up at 4 am, out of missing Will so much and I've got an idea.
Will
My dad is out of town, again, so I need to look up the time to cal him without waking him up. I have a favor to ask and I will need to be super-diplomatic after the car fiasco to get him to say yes. This time I am asking for permission and I really need it... I get out of the shower and walk back to my bedroom when I hear a doorbell. At 6:30? What the hell is going on? I run to the door. If I can send the intruder away, my grandma will get to sleep longer. She looks tired those days. I look into the peephole and my heart misses a beat. I open noiselessly and I stare at him, grinning like an idiot. He doesn't move nor smile, he looks stricken. I shiver and wonder what's going on in his head when I realize why I shivered. I'm still a little wet. And wearing a towel. I'm standing in front of my boyfriend bare-chested and dripping water and it's not a dream. I repeat this is not a dream. This is a real emergency! The good point is that I don't shiver of cold anymore. I'm feeling as hot as a volcano. Ready to erupt. Which, by the way is showing. Damn towels are no good in hiding anything! And my Sonny looks so lost with the distress in his eyes and his arms swaying nervously, flapping the bag he's holding... Oh wait, a distraction-inducing object! Just what I needed "Hello, Son, you're bringing me something?" Then I wait patiently... well no impatiently as I'm a bag of nerves. Is this a pharmacy bag with an anti-anxiety prescription in it? 'cause I need some badly. After a verrrrry long time (which must be about 2 minutes but that's 2 minutes of embarrassment I'll never get back), he shakes the bag and utters "Croissants." Then "I brought croissants. For you." While I'm going all soft inside from such a sweet attention, he finally makes a correct statement "Hum... I went to the bakery and I bought croissant for you and your grandma. I wanted to see you this morning and..."
Sonny
I reach the apartment door with a fantastic pep talk. Something along the line of "It'll be awesome taking our time with Will. We'll get to be comfortable with each other. And it will be a meaningful connection and..." … and then he opens the door.
Where is my jaw? Do I still have one? Has it disappeared along with my cornea, which burned out from the sight? Will is more scorching than the sun itself. There is a towel and it's got a bump on the front. A big bump. Can I take him in the hallway? Please? I'll be good at it I promise...
The tension of not doing that, which is all I think of right now, is driving me crazy. In the blur of my mind I make up a word at some point "...bag..." What does that mean? Oh, yeeeah, I've got a bag. And there's no condoms in it, I swear! Just... "Croissants." Okay, that's not a sentence. Try again "I brought croissants. For you." Slightly better. Plus focusing on the words unfocuses me from the rest. So here it is. Clear of the lustful throat and "Hum... I went to the bakery and I bought croissant for you and your grandma. I wanted to see you this morning and..." and can I come in? I promise I won't ravish you. He takes the hint and takes my hand but when we're in he looks down at his towel and mumbles "The kitchen's that way. I'll go put clothes on."
Marlena is a cool lady. I love chatting with her. And she loves croissants. I'm telling her about my past trips around the world and my stay in Paris. Will is listening too, I'm not sure I told him that. Well, I'd rather not tell him the whole of it. There was a guy there. Or maybe I'll tell him later. I don't want to hide things from him. But I don't want him to feel pressured or compared to. Nobody, no body can compare with him. He's laughing at a joke and I'm melting. He's mine. No, in fact I'm his. And being patient will be easy, I realize it now. He may be the hottest and the fairest and the most kissable and all... He's Will, he makes every tension, every embarrassment worth it. I can't wait to be alone with him to make him understand that. The sex will have to wait some more.
