OtC l 41.1 - Out of time.
Making sure to get up a half hour earlier, Devon borrowed a pair of his boyfriend's running shorts. While they were somehow a little big they worked well enough to drop his iPod in his pocket and hit the pavement. Right, left, right, left. The world fell away as the early morning sky illuminated his way down the block. The question of course was how many laps this morning. Gaging them was a bit of a hassle but he never alerted Sam to his extra curricular early morning runs. Naturally, Sam would ask Devon to go with him but that wasn't working.
Running to stand still.
What were they doing? A crazy mating dance where two people switched living arrangements weekly because one of them couldn't commit to living in one place? The sex was a non-issue because it was good. Better than good. In fact, that in itself was probably the most functional thing they had been doing for the past two weeks.
They didn't watch American Idol anymore. Both of their jobs had decided they didn't need to see each other until close to eleven at night.
Rounding the corner, Devon passed his usual coffee place, the urge greater that morning than it had been all week. Quitting caffeine altogether had been a difficult job. Hell, close to fucking impossible because of the caffeine dependence Devon had developed. All that and Sam hadn't noticed or if he had he didn't voice that notice.
Instead, he stopped in the convenience store on the corner and grabbed a bottle of water.
Running up hill.
This was the worst, the time he ran up the stairs to his or Sam's floor, sometimes decided to go back down before returning because one time up just wasn't enough. Today, it was three and he ended up back on the first floor. Slumping down against the wall, Devon wiped the sweat from his forehead before untwisting the cap to his water and taking a long gulp.
It was getting harder pushing his feelings away, that Sam was running out of time. He hated that Sam was or that he had some kind of time limit he was only aware of a few days ago. Pretty soon, Sam would be quiet and confused and Devon would be gone - not loved, not moved in and not there.
Devon wanted to be there but pretty soon he would be out of time and out of luck. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up and pushed the button to the elevator heading up to the apartment and stripping off his sweaty clothing as he crept into Sam's bedroom. Closing the bathroom door behind him, he turned on the shower and leaned against the sink.
They just needed more time. He kept telling himself that. Fuck, coffee would've been good right then.
Running to stand still.
What were they doing? A crazy mating dance where two people switched living arrangements weekly because one of them couldn't commit to living in one place? The sex was a non-issue because it was good. Better than good. In fact, that in itself was probably the most functional thing they had been doing for the past two weeks.
They didn't watch American Idol anymore. Both of their jobs had decided they didn't need to see each other until close to eleven at night.
Rounding the corner, Devon passed his usual coffee place, the urge greater that morning than it had been all week. Quitting caffeine altogether had been a difficult job. Hell, close to fucking impossible because of the caffeine dependence Devon had developed. All that and Sam hadn't noticed or if he had he didn't voice that notice.
Instead, he stopped in the convenience store on the corner and grabbed a bottle of water.
Running up hill.
This was the worst, the time he ran up the stairs to his or Sam's floor, sometimes decided to go back down before returning because one time up just wasn't enough. Today, it was three and he ended up back on the first floor. Slumping down against the wall, Devon wiped the sweat from his forehead before untwisting the cap to his water and taking a long gulp.
It was getting harder pushing his feelings away, that Sam was running out of time. He hated that Sam was or that he had some kind of time limit he was only aware of a few days ago. Pretty soon, Sam would be quiet and confused and Devon would be gone - not loved, not moved in and not there.
Devon wanted to be there but pretty soon he would be out of time and out of luck. Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up and pushed the button to the elevator heading up to the apartment and stripping off his sweaty clothing as he crept into Sam's bedroom. Closing the bathroom door behind him, he turned on the shower and leaned against the sink.
They just needed more time. He kept telling himself that. Fuck, coffee would've been good right then.