Page 91 of All That Remains
"Wait, wait wait...was the gypsy music on a CD?!"
"No, vinyl! A record player!Shutup!"
After another laughing fit, he breathily asked: "Same question for me?"
"Damn straight, same question."
"Alright," he snickered. "Easy…P."
"Piper? No, mate, fuck that. That's not good enough. She was your freaking fiancé, she doesn't count."
"Quit being a baby, Rafe, before I put some fookin’gypsy music on—"
"Arghhh!Give me something else, Rome, or drink!"
He kept snickering while I reset the timer.
"Ok, so...when I first left the U-Kay, I ended up in Vegas and did some writin'. Me and the fellas were goin’ out likeeverynight, gettin’ fucked up. Sleepin' late. Eatin' bad. Then one mornin' I was workin' out, pulled somethin' in me leg, and asked for a massage in the hotel room. They sent up a woman—let's just say a rathermaturewoman—and she did a lot more than massage me, so to speak. I was fuckin' shocked. I didn't even ask her to do anythin'. She just did it, I guess because she knew who I was."
"Ah-ha! Got you!" I triumphed. "Was she older than your mum?"
"I dunno. I don't even wanna think of her in that context."
"Fuck, you're right. " I facepalmed. "So she knew who you were?"
"I think. What about yours?"
"No, not at all. She just told me I was, uh, cute or something." He called me cute in an affected Russian accent and leaned across to kiss my dimples.
"Hey…you wanna know something even more fucked up?" I asked.
"I dunno, do I? Will it change the way I see you?"
"Probably..." I laughed. "I just wanted to say...I kind of liked that she didn't know who I was. The anonymity was crazy sexy. And Ilikedhow creepy she was. And Ilikedthe old smells in her dim little flat. And I liked her brothy soup. She made me feel weirdly good. Likecalmand hidden. So, eventually I went back to her. She gave me these pills...Percocet, I think—I can't remember. They made me feel spacey and euphoric. And she had tons of these, uh, bitter hand-rolled cigarettes that I chain-smoked the entire time I was there. It was another world, I guess. I was able to be someone else. Someone who couldn't think of you to save my life, and that was agoodthing."
"Babe..." he said, sobering. "What the hell? Was it really that dark?"
"Worse than dark. Deeply wounding. Mind-bending."
He leaned across and kissed me contemplatively, then told me I had nothing to be ashamed of. The remainder of our game dug deeper. We went through weirdest sex dreams since we were apart. Weirdest come-ons from strangers. Weirdest places we'd woken up drunk. Weirdest purchases. Biggest regrets. Eventually we drank the whiskey just for the hell of it.
For a while we sat across from each other and attempted to write a song using memory only; no paper or pen. He lit a joint and enjoyed himself. I got a contact high and became stupid and giggly. Eventually he crawled over and straddled my lap. He took a hit from the jay and cradled the back of my head, blowing the smoke directly into my mouth. I'd done this with him a hundred times before, so I knew to ingest it slowly. It seeped down my throat like a welcome poison. I slipped my hands up the back of his shirt to trace his spine, before he kissed me and wouldn't stop.
I laid him on his back and snatched his sweats down, shoving away his hands. I took him into my mouth semi-flaccid and felt him come to life, surrounded by my warmth. I was so stoned I had no idea what I was doing. I only knew that Ilikedit. That he liked it. I could taste the salt of his perspiration. Could smell the soap in his pubes.
I cupped his balls and he bucked his hips up into my mouth. I felt him at the opening of my throat and fought through a gag. I dragged my tongue up and down his length, circling the tip. I slipped a finger into his ass and he winced, clenching it. I loved the sensation of him tightening around my knuckle, growing drunk on his sticky heat. Smoke filled the air. He stared beady-eyed at the ceiling before nutting in my mouth.
Afterwards we lay in the center of the floor passing the weed back and forth until it was burned down to our fingertips. Slowly, I came to the realization that we were living a total lie. This was not real life. We were trapped together in a sex-deprived hallucination, most likely in my head, and I would wake alone in my bed any minute now.
I looked over at dream Rome and the furrows in his brow deepened. I pressed my lips to his to test if he was real. Oddly, he’d never felt more present, more warm, moresupranatural. It was for me to enjoy him now. In a day he would be gone. Back toMilato recharge. To feel normal anduncomplicated.
***
Much later we ended up on his roof, watching the enormous stars. He said he came up there most nights to get inspiration to write. The view was astonishing. It was as though we sat on the edge of the Earth, gazing out at the entire universe. Like two gods surveying our demesne at the inception oftime. The sky yawned out above us, deep and dark, speckled with silver and primordial secrets.
We sat, knees touching, catching the balmy midnight breeze and listening to the wildlife chirp. I was wasted. In no shape to govern my thoughts.
"I needed you," I said at last, picking up a conversation we’d never had.
