Just for You
Alfred heard the door swing open. His grip tightened against the waist pressed to his. He tilted his head back, allowing his third lover that week to kiss his neck. He grunted happily and peered through the cracks of the bathroom stall. Light trickled in from the hallway. A teenage kid walked in, adjusting his hair as he walked past the mirror.
The guy at Alfred's neck, what was his name? Jon? Ashton? Who cared? He was a good looking brunet with a pair of soft, soft lips. He felt his jeans come undone. The teenager walked past the stall, his eyes flicking in and meeting Alfred's. Alfred flashed him a wink. The boy flushed red and didn't seem to know what to do. Whatshisface slid down Alfred's body.
"Who is it?"
Alfred placed his hand on the man's head, tilting his head further back. He peered at the kid.
"Just someone who is going to leave us alone."
"You asshole." The other muttered.
Alfred shrugged. "Thanks."
Then it struck him, leaning against a bathroom stall and telling a seventeen year old to get, his lower torso unfeeling from so much stimulation. He was losing control. He had only gone out to quench the thirst for another body against his. That was a few months back. He had quickly become addicted to the unfeeling passerbys, some he saw in restaurants, some he saw on the streets, and one in the dentist's office. Each time it was great, but it ended. His brother had pleaded with him, begged him to come home.
Just for you, brother. Alfred had insisted. He'll quit when he was ready. But that wouldn't be for a long, long time. He still had to snuff out the desires left. That wasn't the case, he knew it. The more he did it, the more he wanted it, and the less he got out of it.
He really needed to stop.
That evening, the man he met earlier now long forgotten, he lay on his back in bed. He stared at the ceiling. He chewed on his lower lip. Ivan still threatened to overcome his thoughts, like a ghost in the corner of his room.
Just for you, brother.
Maybe for him too.
Alfred rolled over, covering his head with a pillow. He felt suddenly vile and devilish. He had stayed clean, miraculously. Physically. Not so much mentally. His mind had been ruined with the dirt of society, filling him with desires that convinced him "lust" was just as good as "love". If not quicker and thereby better.