#; but he can't resist a demanding and lonely Nezumi

[distopea]

@nezumivc103221

It was the middle of the night; couldn't have been much past two or three AM if the darkness outside was anything to go by. The curtains had been closed at Nezumi's request, but through the sliver of space, a narrow, orange stripe of light indicated that the streetlamps were on and buzzing. The bedroom itself was quiet and cold; none of the outside ruckuses penetrated the thin walls of the apartment complex. During the day, Nezumi could hear various noises from their neighbours, but at night, they all fizzled out like a soda in mid-summer.

Mads' steady breathing was the only sound, usually a pleasant white noise that lulled Nezumi to sleep—except right now, Mads' every breath sounded like a drill through his ears. Nezumi tossed around, irritated, sleepy, anxious, hot and uncomfortable. A dream woke up him, not a painful one or a scary one, just a dream involving his Gran. A true fantasy that was too far out of Nezumi's reach. It made him sad; it made his heart ache with longing and his limbs numb with loneliness.

Nezumi huffed, frowning at the ceiling. He glanced to the side where Mads slept, unaware, then looked away.

Beside him, Mads shifted in his sleep. He turned his back to Nezumi.

Nezumi whimpered softly and chased after him.

" . . . Mads?" came the first tentative whisper. Nezumi circled an arm around Mads' shoulder and tried to get him to lay back down so he could place his head on Mads' chest. "Mads . . . are you asleep?" he whispered again, softly, inquisitively. ( Of course, he was. )

"Mads . . ." Nezumi pleaded again, gently petting Mads' cheek. "I can't sleep. Will you talk to me? Mads?" He nuzzled into Mads' neck. " . . . Please? I'm lonely."

//50s verse

From his peaceful and pitch-black land of dreams, Mads felt that something was bringing him back to reality. An everlasting poke onto his skin, like a dripping faucet that kept leaking. Poke, poke, poke. Mads waved his fingers in the middle of nowhere and grumble to whoever or whatever was trying to wake him up to fuck off. He felt that it wasn’t working at all. He frowned and grunted, scratched his belly, but the more he tried to fall asleep again and the more he was aware that someone was really trying to wake him up.

At some point, he blinked, his limbs completely numb, the urge to stretch invading every single cell of his body. “What is it?... ‘Fuck you want?...” He didn’t even realize to whom he was speaking right now, but at some point, consciousness was awakened. He understood that the person who was eagerly trying to get his attention was Nezumi, and it was quite strange for him to be so demanding – but in a physical way. Suddenly, Mads was profoundly aware of their proximity, the way he was throwing his limbs to have him closer, the warmness of his breathing…

“What’s happening?” He said while he rolled on his back, his hair completely disheveled onto his pillow and falling in straight lines over his tired blue eyes. He could perceive the emergency inside Nezumi’s voice. It was honestly a siren call Mads didn’t wish to resist. He sighed and rolled again, this time to wrap his fingers around Nezumi’s waist, pulling him against his chest.

“You’re not alone. I’m here.” He slowly caressed the length of his back, up and down, from the top of his skull to almost the birth of his bottom. Mads swallowed. Loneliness was a very familiar blanket for someone like him. He had been lonely most of his life after all. All these one-night stands were just a balm to appease the deepness of his sorry existence. He squeezed Nezumi a bit harder, pushing his nose into his long black hair.

“I know how you feel.” He confessed while he rubbed the back of Nezumi’s ears. His gestures were slow and controlled, just in case the young man would freak out. Proximity was still a foreign language between them. “You know, when I was little, I was sharing my bed with my brother. His name is Mika.” Mads realized that he had never talked about him yet. Mika didn’t visit him for a while, but they would exchange letters or quick phone calls, from time to time.

“Mika often had nightmares when he was a kid, and he was clinging to me like a monkey to a trunk. It pissed me off back then… I wanted to throw him out of the bed for that. We fought a lot.” He continued to caress Nezumi’s back, tenderly. Mads chuckled to the memories. “But when I went to the army, when I was on my own… I couldn’t sleep at night for a while. I was almost missing his chaotic kicks and his sleep talking…” 

He hummed, looked down. He hoped Nezumi felt more at ease right now. “Oddly… When you grump at me, or scratch, or push your cold feet against my ankles… I always sleep like a baby. I don’t feel lonely when you’re here.”