A New Dream [Dreams: 1] by Alex C. Clarke

David. Should I put my arms on top of the sheets? Or maybe underneath them? Arms folded? No… He opted to wait cross-shaped on the bed, as if waiting to be given to the Goddess on the sacrificial altar.
    He had thought for a moment that was it, that he was ready to wait. But he had fidgeted again after what felt like ten seconds…he didn’t want to force David to do anything he wasn’t ready for. He had to think fast of a way to ease him into it. What would give the man some confidence? What would put him at ease? Maybe I need to show him he’s safe with me…that I won’t assault him, no matter what…that I won’t judge him…that it is his decision to take. He needed to think faster. David could enter his flat at any moment. He cast a glance around, finding nothing useful in the bedroom. He got up for what felt like the hundredth time and ran into the living room. He spotted a square piece of dark silky fabric. That would do the trick. Me being blindfolded might hold its appeal to David. He won’t feel threatened in any way if I’m rendered harmless for him, right?
    He settled back on the bed, the fabric next to him, ready to be put over his eyes, the sheets up to his waist, when he heard the scratch of the key in the keyhole. He jumped back out of bed, scratched a match to light the candle stick and hurried back into position. Making sure everything was in place, he put the third piece of paper on his bare chest, tied the blindfold at the back of his head and stretched his arms as he tried to even his breath. He tried to calm his thumping heart, running as if it were late for the Indy 500.
    Silently, or as silently as he could anyway, he listened to the ambient noises as he followed David’s wanderings around the flat. He heard him stepping closer and closer. Breathe, in and out…in and out. You could have cut the tension with a knife. He was entirely focused on the sounds David was making. When he finally entered the bedroom, James felt the air move around him and he imagined the flame of the candle wavering a bit. He heard the sound of objects set down on the night stand. He heard the ruffle of clothes being removed. When he perceived the light touch of a fingertip on his skin, he shuddered violently. Then David withdrew his fingers and left the room. What on Earth just happened? He panicked. Deep down, he knew he could just walk out of the room and never come back. He knew he was his own master and he didn’t owe the man anything. He couldn’t stop wondering why the hell the guy had just walked away. Is it worth the wait? Will he come back to me? He was so unsettled right now, he could barely breathe, never mind speak. He strained to hear the faintest sound resonating in the flat. He didn’t dare bat an eye under the blindfold as he was scared to face reality. What if David has taken fright? What if I hit too hard? What if he’s left me? No, he wouldn’t do that. I’ve heard him getting undressed. It’s not possible. He has not left me.
    He couldn’t make sense of the sounds filtering through to him. David was still there, though, he was sure of it. After what felt like eons but what would have probably been no more than a minute or two, David came back. He got a whiff of David’s shower gel and couldn’t stop turning his head toward the smell, before he caught himself and straightened again. He hadn’t abandoned him. He came back for him.
    James had never been prone to crying since his childhood, but right then and there, he felt like sobbing in relief.
    He’d been so focused on his own relief that he jumped when he felt the feather’s titillating touch. At some point, no doubt, he had moaned as well. Maybe even more than once. After forever and a day of this sweet torture, the caresses and the subtle touches, David let go of the feather. He brushed his lips at the corner of James’ mouth, like a delicate butterfly’s wing. James mewled. He leaned into David in an attempt to approach his face,