I was woken up in the middle of the night to a loud thud and the sound of Maureen cursing softly from the doorway to my bedroom.
"Mo? You okay?" I quickly turned on the light beside my bed, and got on my feet to help her up. She looked dazed, and I was unsure as to whether or not she was really awake, or maybe sleepwalking. Not that I had ever known her to sleepwalk in the past, but you never knew with her.
"I feel better for the moment…my fever broke," she whispered, and then continued more audibly, "Roger…what the hell am I going to do? The AZT's making me sick, I've got a cold…my disease…it's probably advanced because they didn't catch it for such a long time. Joanne deserted me, I might have killed Mark…." She was crying uncontrollably, and I did the only thing that I could think to do—I held her, soothed her. I told her everything would be okay and I stroked her back. It was uncomfortable at first, because it was rare that I hugged people, except when Collins forced me to, or in some moment of rare brotherhood between Mark and myself, and granted Maureen's usual greeting was a hug and kiss, but the only other time I had willingly initiated an embrace with a (conscious, living) person was when Mimi was going through withdrawal. Both of us seemed surprised at my gesture, but she melted into my embrace, silently sobbing into my shoulder. I didn't know what to do, but I found myself incapable of being angry with her, even though she could have infected Mark, loving the way that her body felt against mine, longing to…oh no. Not now.
Involuntarily, and in a very awkward twist of fate, I felt a wave of warmth in my lower region, feeling myself utterly aroused. God damnit, what is going on here? I felt her body tense against mine, and her big, sad green eyes looking into mine, and though her tears had ceased, I couldn't help but feel an enormous sense of guilt, pissed at my body for being so…inconveniently erect.
Her weight shifted, and I knew that she was upset (or at the very least alarmed) by my body's reaction to her own, but I couldn't tell whether or not she felt a similar heat until I realized that she was positioned over me, seemingly riding my erection. She pushed me down onto my back, pressing herself against me, and my body responded to hers in a way that I had never before experienced. I slid my hands into the sweatpants she had borrowed from me, which were far to large for her small frame, sliding them off easily, my hands straying on her hips and incredible ass, and her pelvis rocked in towards me as she emitted a guttural moan. She quickly got my sweatpants and boxers off in one fell swoop, and she was on me again, and I felt myself penetrating her hot, moist, and altogether inviting interior. The moment was magic, and it felt as though we were meant to be together, than any other romances in our lives were unimportant. Or at least, that was how it felt to me—our bodies fit perfectly with one another, and after reaching ecstasy we collapsed beside one another, panting and slick with sweat. So this was what passion should be like.
Afterwards, I couldn't tell whether or not she had drifted off to sleep, but wanting to avoid awkward pillow talk, I feigned sleep as thoughts and fears raced through my mind. I couldn't fathom that I had just slept with the woman whom I had previously despised until recently, or maybe I had just been acting juvenilely all along. Maybe I had always felt something for her, but first I had April, then I had AIDS. Mimi had been convenient because I didn't have to worry about infecting her. Maureen, additionally, was always taken, and additionally notorious for being unfaithful. How could I have fallen for her? She was gorgeous, and she did have many redeeming qualities, which Mark even now was always attempting to impress upon me. Maybe it worked. Somehow I thought he would be less than thrilled that I had screwed his ex, with whom he was still madly in love with. I wonder if he would still want her if he were still negative? I didn't doubt that he would kill himself by fucking her, handing himself a death sentence. He didn't want to be left alone, and if he were positive like the rest of us, we'd all be ticking time bombs, and he'd have just as much chance of being the next to go. Slowly but surely my thoughts all seemed to meld into one as I drowsily drifted off—having sex with her was a mistake, for many more reasons than one. I only hoped that come morning, we could put this behind us and forget…despite the fact that it had been incredible, it was so wrong…