When Morning Comes

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• Readerguy

When Morning Comes

Chapter 6 - Final - When Morning Comes

Christmas had come and gone rather painfully; the experience, a long, drawn-out groan. My manager fired me, and I knew it had been because of what I'd done with Niki. That whole thing earned me a sit down and absolutely no chance to defend myself. Not that there was any way I could've, watching the captured security footage play out in front of me. Niki pacing around, frantic; lost. The hallway lights coming abruptly on, capturing me only half-covered by my jumpsuit, wandering into view. The manager had made up his mind before I was summoned to the main company building. "That's just messed up," he said, shaking his head as he watched me get up. Needless to say, I walked out of that place stone-cold jobless. The New Year, 2020, loomed around the corner with all the weight of a lead balloon. It carried with it all the promises, all the threats of the first year in a new decade. The year twenty-twenty...and I was dragged into it with all the grace of a wet horse. The next course of action was to move out of my apartment. My roommate was, naturally, pissed about it, kicking up a fucking storm about the logistics of everything. "Right when they're jacking up the rent too," he complained, watching me drag what little I had into the hallway. "Real fuckin' considerate, Nathan." The sound of the door slamming reverberated in the hallway like a gunshot. It felt good as shit. Not even an hour later, I was back home at my parents'. To say I was thoroughly embarrassed was an understatement, even though they tried their best to never address it. They were just "happy I was home again". Right. They were happy to have their failure back in their spare bedroom, taking up utilities. I could feel my middle sister regarding me with such stifling pity, I couldn't fucking stand it. "Kuya?" she said through the door to my room one night. "I'm worried about you. You wanna come and watch movies?" "It's okay, Reese," I replied, unmoving, unblinking. "I got some stuff I need to do anyway." "Like...staring at the wall all night like you usually do?" I didn't dignify myself with an answer, just kept my face firmly buried in my sheets. She sighed, defeated. "If...you wanna talk, I'm here." I heard her shuffle away, sighing. Poor girl. She was trying so hard. Nights became lonely; I stopped hooking up. Fucking pathetic. After our disastrous hookup, Niki kept pumping vitriol into my messages, bemoaning how I'd ruined his relationship. Yes. I was the one to ruin his relationship. Not the fact that he was a serial cheater and I was just the guy with the proof. I was also the guy caught red-cocked up his ass, but hey. Take happiness where you can get it. Aaron popped up a few times again; Rory, once, too. I had to turn them both down. Sincerely, I hoped they each found what they were looking for elsewhere. What I wanted, I couldn't damn well have. There came a point where my already bone-dry conversations over text with Josh came to a standstill. There'd be days where I would text him at night, to wake up to nothing but a 'read' receipt. And it was only after the third time this had happened that I decided I'd had fucking enough. After everything else, this, for whatever reason, was the final straw. Only barely conscious of my actions, I got in my car and I hauled ass halfway across the city to his apartment. Not that that was one of my greatest ideas, no. Was I really thinking all that much when I parked nearby and stomped through the early January snowfall to his building? Was I really processing anything in the lobby, the elevator, and the hallway before I found myself at his door? Even once before I knocked? No, of course not. And when he opened the door, surprise dawning on his face, my lack of planning just sort of...hit me. Josh stood there, in that plain grey shirt I had, months ago, shot my cum all over, and a pair of ratty old boxers. For his end, he looked at least stupefied to see me there with no warning, his glasses off and his hair having grown out somewhat, twisted into tiny starter locs. He had his hand on the doorframe, his fingers twitching like he didn't know what to do with them. For a second, I wondered exactly how I looked, covered in melting snow and looming menacingly in his doorway. I looked up at him, trying to find something to say that wasn't just "hey, fuck you, where have you been?" "Nate..." he said stupidly, the first thing he had said to me in ages. "Josh," I replied, equally as dull. "Can I come in?" It was a long, really weird moment of his eyes just sort of roving around before he eventually moved aside to let me in. It was only when I stood in his living room, the whole thing a complete fucking mess, did I realise that I was in the deep end. Josh stayed standing, his hand on his stomach. He kept his eyes on me but his body communicated that he was geared up to turn and run. Out of his own goddamn apartment. My insides were a boiling mess; as the adrenaline of rushing headfirst into action wore off, the paralysis of emotions finally took over. He stood there, just fucking stood there, and looked at me like I was the idiot. "Dude, man, what the fuck," I found myself saying, the fire of accusation stinging my tongue. I can't even imagine how I looked at that moment. "Wanna explain yourself, Josh?" If his boxers had pockets, he'd have his hands stuffed in them. He stared at the floor, his hangdog look the only thing on his face. His lips twitched like whatever he was going to say next would determine his fate. And honestly, with how pissed I was becoming at his silence, it might as well have. Our relationship, anyway. Because weeks of silence after using me to lose his virginity was so fucked. I knew what bad was. I did bad. And now that I was on the receiving end of it, I wanted to throw up. I hated him in that moment, something I never thought was possible. The emotion was so wretched and rotten inside me; my fists clenched and unclenched, intensifying with the passing seconds. "I'm sorry," he said finally, his shoulders hanging. "'I'm sorry'!" burst out of me. I couldn't help it; I was a tangle of emotions. "All you've got is 'I'm sorry'!" "Yes, Nate," he said with his hands up. "I know I fucked up, I do. I didn't...I didn't mean for it to get like that." He looked like he was trying to shrink into the shadows of his own apartment. His stupid rainbow glowing light was off; the fast-diminishing light from outside just trickling in. Dark strokes of shadow were carved into the room. Josh tried to disappear into one. I hated this. "You have no idea how shitty that felt," I continued lashing at him, everything that had been building inside me spilling out like sewage. The ugliness of envy, of hurt and frustration tumbled out, clattering to the floor. "I might be a fucking slut, Josh, but we were friends. Friends don't do that shit to each other!" He stepped into the bare light of his living room, his hands spread; his face pinched in his own wash of shame. "I didn't mean to do that." Josh looked at me with so much bare-faced misery. An ugly part of me was satisfied that he was hurt too. "Sure, sure," came tumbling out of my mouth. The taste of fury was horrendous. "You didn't mean to lose the virginity you were so fucking desperate to get rid of, then not speak to me in any meaningful way for two months once you did. Yeah. Yeah, that shit's accidental." "Nate, I'm really sorry," he offered weakly. "I was scared, I was overwhelmed. You gotta understand--there was so much I was dealing with." "I'm so sure," I spat. "Yes, there was." He kept his head turned squarely away from me. Defiance. "There--there was so much I was discovering about myself at once and it was terrifying, alright?" He swallowed, hard, and my hands itched. "That I like men...that I want to have sex with men. That...that I like...." His voice became quiet, drawn into a shudder. Fuck. Fuck. I froze, my skin tingling in anticipation of what he was going to say next. Thoughts raced in and out, flowing erratically from my brain and dying as a garble in my mouth. My rage bubbled, mellowing down into confusion. Josh sighed, his voice snuffed out in the deafening ambience. "Nathan, I'm sorry. I like you. I'm sorry." "You don't mean that," I found myself saying in a feeble voice. "You cannot be saying that right now." I was beside myself with shock. Josh stood in the corner, hands dangling uselessly in front of him. His shoulder shook minutely as the truth laid itself out between us. "I do." I could barely hear him. "Fuck you." "I know how bad that sounds after I ghosted you. I didn't show it to you." He spread his hands, his fingers twitching. "Fuck...Nate, you're the only person I can tell anything to with no judgement. And you're always there for me, you always encourage me, you already found me attractive, I...caught feelings. And...and like myself, I just...I froze." He froze. Like with all the past girls. I was like them now. "You're confused," I said. Hurt touched his broad features; a twinge tugged at his frown. "And...and you're deflecting. The fuck is this?" "I know! I know I fucked up! I'm an idiot, Nate, is that what you want me to say? I still want you." "You don't want this. I--I'm not...I'm not good. I'm not good, Josh." "But you showed up for me. I didn't do the same thing for you." He stepped forward, a hand on his chest. Deep furrows of worry were carving themselves on his face. "You're good, Nate. Why don't you think so?" "'Cause I'm not shit, man!" I thought of the ugliness that happened with Niki, Aaron; everyone in between. All the men's names I didn't even bother to get. "I'm a fucking user. I'm a bad person." And when it came to Josh...that nagging voice came up unbidden in my head. 'You're just mad it finally happened to you,' it said in its sour whisper. 'You're just a hypocrite.' "I'm a hypocrite," I echoed it aloud. "You're not. You care about me. Right?" A pang of hurt throbbed in me. "Josh, yes. Of course. That's why I'm so fucking pissed." "...I'm sorry," he offered simply, the weight of his words making his voice heavy. The lump in my throat was too thick to swallow. There, across from me, was Josh's lumbering form, begging that I look at him. His face was so open, so unguarded that it made me want to tear my eyes away from it. But I just stared. I stared at the abyss of my confusing negative emotions right in the eyes. After a gratingly long minute, I held my arms out. Weakly, at first. But when Josh crossed the floor, pulled in by the force of my silence, I wrapped my arms around him. He smelled like laundry, like a peppermint candle, like toothpaste, like lemonade. Like Josh. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'm a fuck-up." "That makes two of us." I held him closer to me, listening to his torn-up breathing. The rolling in my stomach quieted down to an uneasy rumble. We held each other like that until my arms felt numb, heavy. At some point, he held my face in his hands, and it was then that I felt so catastrophically small next to him. He scanned my face with brown eyes so full of feeling. "Nate, let me...please?" It didn't surprise me that he leaned down to kiss me; I didn't stop him. So slowly that I had to meet him halfway. So tenderly I thought I was going to break under the pressure. "You have the weirdest timing," I mumbled against his soft, thick lips. "Let me make it up to you," he replied, his hands inching down my back. His hands found the small of my back, just above my waistband. He held them there until I nodded, my head pressed against his chest. "Please, Nate. Please forgive me." As if he needed to ask that from me. With a heaving sigh, I conceded I'd fallen deeply into him, and I couldn't claw myself back out. The demon in me that wanted to ruin our neutrality, that wanted Josh...won. It was a strange blur in between being clothed and then being suddenly not, but Josh had sat me down on his couch. The same one we'd watched so many stupid videos on. Now he was fully sucking my cock on it. He shocked me with just how much he'd improved in the last couple of months; with the aggression he was doing it with. He was servicing my cock with enthusiasm. My legs twitched underneath me. Fuck me. Fuck me he was doing good. I just barely held his ears while he mashed the head of my cock against his throat. He sucked as deep as he could get, just over halfway down, and formed a tight gasket seal with his lips around my cock head. Felt incredible. From below, I could hear the telltale rhythmic sound of him jacking himself off. He was still fully clothed. "Take your shit off," I said breathily. "Lemme see you." "Are...you sure?" he muttered, his eyes bleary with a mix of lust and confusion. His hands drifted halfway to the hem of his shirt, twitching like he didn't know what to do. "I'm sure." I tossed him a smile, wrenching it out of the haze of anxiety. "I wanna see you." He hesitated for a long, ponderous second. But he eventually yanked himself out of his shirt, then his boxers. Finally I saw all of him. Josh was solidly built, the soft curves of his earth-brown skin held up by blocky mass. His beautiful chest, tits hanging slightly above his belly. Hard and soft to the touch. The simple of a scar where his appendix would've been. He was everything. I needed to feel him against me, skin to skin. "You're beautiful," he mumbled while I stroked his soft skin. And yet he held his arms in front of him like he was ashamed of himself. "What's the matter?" "Sorry, I...." He shook his head, the dark of the room shielding his eyes from me. "I don't like my body." A phantom shard of glass lodged itself in my heart. "Josh, you're perfect to me," I told him firmly, my brows stitching in the middle. "Perfect." I touched his wrist, surging with hurt. Josh peeked up at me, the whites of his eyes glimmering, and I could see a plaintive smile cross his face. I leaned up, draping my arms around his waist, planting kisses running down his chest. Tight coils of coarse hair lined him sparsely; the path descended into his pubes. His body rumbled deeply against me while he moaned, filling the room with his desperate voice. "Nathan..." he muttered, but all too soon, I was at his cock. My real prize. I took him in, and a broken moan escaped him. His full eight inches felt warm in my mouth, in my throat. He'd thrown his head back, and I could see him playing with his dark, near-black nipples as I swallowed him. My mind was racing with just one objective: to make Josh feel good. Because that made me feel good. And I fucking deserved that. "Nate..." he groaned. "Oh my god, Nate...." Somehow, his cock felt like a natural fit for my throat, and I didn't even really care for being throat-fucked like that. I hefted Josh's thin ass cheeks, encouraging him to let go and just piston into my face. He lacked finesse, rhythm, but he had enthusiasm. The feeling of being a hole for his use made me feel warm, whole, satisfied. From above me, I felt Josh heave with pleasure. "Josh," I said through an exhale, pulling off his cock for air. He looked down at me, his face a sweaty mess of desire. "Do you want to fuck me?" His sleepy brown eyes glinted, going wide. "Are you sure?" "Yeah." I stroked his cock while I said it, hearing the wet, thick sound fill the air. "Yeah, I want it. If I was your first time, I want you to be mine, too." "Your first time getting--?" I stopped him by sucking his cock back into my throat, eliciting a shudder out of him. "Fuck, Nate, alright...." He lifted me up by my arms, and kissed me deeply as he eased me down onto his couch. Josh surprised me by producing a small package of condoms from somewhere by the couch. I kept my eyes trained into his while he rolled the damn thing onto himself. Curiously, I wondered where he'd learned that, but my thoughts were quieted by him finally pressing his cock up against my hole. Oh, fuck. My anxiety of bottoming for the first time--and for Josh's eight incher--bubbled up in me. But I couldn't be scared, couldn't let him back out. I needed him more than that. So I breathed in, and pushed out. Josh sank in, and my ass was aflame. It fucking hurt. "H--holy fuck!" he cried out, his voice wavering. "You're...so...!" He leaned down to kiss me as he slowly, slowly, guided his long, skinny cock into me. He was taking care, for sure, but fuck, did it hurt. I breathed shallowly, pushing my hole against him, accepting him as best I could. When I looked down, my cock softened somewhat; I stroked to keep hard. But the sight of Josh towering over me, barely clinging to control, his cock breaching me, did so much to keep me stiff. "Nate," he was whispering, his sweat dripping onto me. "You're so tight." "Just for you, buddy," I said through a smile, trying to think of literally anything else but the pain. Josh didn't even bottom out in me before he started pulling out and thrusting back in. He moaned with exquisite pleasure, throwing his head back. I felt him start to crush me, and I accepted it. He felt amazing, once I swallowed my spit. Slow, shallow thrusts into me. Like he was opening me up bit by bit; like he knew just what to do. My gasps came shuddering out of me, feeling him fill my walls. Eventually, Josh sank fully into me, all eight inches. He towered above me, holding my ankles up. My vision swam as I felt his cock reach places I've never even felt before. My cock was leaking, knowing it was him that was inside me, fully, completely. I cinched my legs around his waist, wanting to be connected. Wanted to be fucked. Wanted to be made his. "Fuck me, Josh," I let out, desperate. He smiled, hefting my huge body underneath him. His deepening thrusts made me spread my legs out wider, wanting to accept more of him into me. Still, he fucked me slowly; my hole sucked in around his cock. I could feel his wide head, hot and dragging against my insides. But I wanted him deeper. I held his body closer to me, urging him on. That must have caused his instincts to kick in. He gripped the couch cushions with ferocity as he picked up his speed. His body shuddered; his knees hit my ass as he leveraged himself to get deeper into me. My face felt hot; my body shook with his effort. I had to stop stroking myself so as not to cum too soon. "Oh, god, Josh," I moaned. "Oh god! You feel so fucking good...." I wasn't in control of myself anymore. And Josh, well, he wasn't as practised as me. All the signs were there: gripping my shoulders, losing control of his breath, his quick, erratic pace. He was going to cum. He needed to do it inside me. "Nate," he warned me. "I can't--can't stop." "I know," I cut him off, my breath ripping out of me. "Please cum in me, Josh." He let out a deep moan as a response, and aimed deep into my ass. He slid down, our bodies meeting once again. My back and ass hurt so much, but I needed to see it through. "Nate," he was whispering, over and over. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming in you." I shut him up with a kiss, and he groaned against my lips as he fired off. He thrust into me twice, and I felt his cock dance inside me. Wrapping my legs around him, I pounded my own cock while he was still hard. I reached up to touch his sweat-stained body, feeling him underneath me while I came. "Josh!" I choked out. "You're gonna--make me--!" And I was gone. Four ropes tore out of me, covering my body with my own semen. Josh even came down to lick a spot of it off my chest. I looked at him sideways. "You taste good," he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. I couldn't not kiss him after that. He held me underneath him for so many long minutes, just kissing me. No words left. He had pulled out of me, but his cock was still hard. It stayed hard for a while. The sight of it captivated me so thoroughly I had to suck him off again, not twenty minutes after he'd cum. I loved his long, stiff dick in my throat. "Fuck me," he moaned as I sucked his cum off of him. I savoured him, his taste. Fuck if I wasn't becoming a whole bottom for Josh. And when he came again, it was much weaker, in my mouth; yet his whole body shook, and his voice was a low bellow in my ears. God, did I ever just love making him cum. Midnight came and went. Drained completely, I ended up spending the night at his. He asked me to, in the warm afterglow of what we had done. We tumbled into his bedroom, a shower of uneasy giggles and hugs following us as we went, and finally came to rest in his bed. It was too small for us both. But we made it work. I took him in until it was the last thing I saw before falling into a deep, energy-drained sleep. One with no dreams, no sensations besides the void. ------ I didn't know how many hours it'd been before I woke up again. The warm-black winter night had come and gone, giving way to dawn. From beyond the curtains poured in a strange, nameless colour. I found myself still wrapped around him, nestled into his body. Startled by the unfamiliarity of it, I pulled away. "Josh?" I muttered, bleary in the sober aftermath of what we'd done. He rolled over, and there was something in his face I couldn't understand. Satisfaction? Hurt? Acceptance? I couldn't tell where one started and ended. Cautiously, I reached out to touch him. And he let me. "Hey," he said through a sleepy smile. "Hey...how are you feeling?" I asked, hesitant to shatter the peace in his bedroom. His eyes were full of that weird, shapeless emotion. The corner of his mouth twisted, his answers lost in him. He sat up on his elbow, and stared, not past, but directly at me. It was arresting. And I felt so seen, stupid, and studied. "That...I'm sorry," he mumbled. "Really sorry." "It's okay," I heard myself saying, wanting the moment to go away. Wanting to not have woken up next to each other, not talking about our stupid feelings, and...to have never done this at all. Any of it. "It doesn't make up for what I did," he was saying; "but I really was scared, Nate. I...like I said, it was a lot." "We just had sex, dude, it's...it doesn't have to be...." But the welling-up tenderness in his eyes made me stop, dead in my tracks. "It...doesn't have to be anything if you're not ready." Josh crawled into my arms, and the sensation just shocked me. He was warm, breathing heavily, like he wanted to cry. I stroked his shoulders, tracing paths in his skin I couldn't see. I watched his back rise and fall, the streaks of dried sweat marking his black skin. Evidence that we had crossed a line we were never to come back from. "I don't want to be scared anymore," he said; his breath was hot against my skin. "I want to be ready. But I'm worried...I'm worried if I let go, you'll disappear, and...I'll wake up." Shocking myself, I shushed him, and pressed my lips to his head. His hair tickled my chin. "Not going anywhere," I whispered, stroking his back. The night before had been softened by the dawn, and so had the messed-up shapes of Josh's sheets. The room seemed all at once larger than it had been when I woke up and I was met with the unfamiliar sight of a bedroom that wasn't my own, as morning light filtered in past his thin curtains. When Josh looked up again, he stared at me with half-expectant, half-regretful eyes, his eyebrows coming together in the middle of his furrowed brow. When he smiled, I felt my heart pinch. He was beautiful. "You...got any plans today?" he mumbled. "Nah," I replied. "No job, remember?" He just nodded, settling closer into me; his breath touched my skin. I wanted to lie down here forever. "Stay with me, then?" he mumbled. My head was blurry, but I nodded. The exchange of the night before was still dancing in my mind, replaying as I held him, and he held me. I was surprised by the warmth of tears rolling down my face. Crying without a fucking sound. I must've looked like a whole damn idiot. Envy, rage, hurt, sadness, regret. When I wiped my eyes clear from the blurriness of before, of everything before, I realised what was left at the bottom when I got rid of all the ugly emotions. In the pit of my rinsed-out heart--small, withered, and scared, but innate--was the form of love. That was all that was left. "I don't deserve you, Josh." I muttered. "I'm such a bad person." My whole body threatened to fall apart as I said it. He kissed my cheek. A bubble swelled up inside me; warmth spread through to my fingertips. "You do, Nate," he whispered, his beautiful eyes filling my vision. It hurt so bad. "If you're bad, then, I don't wanna know what good is." And he settled into my chest. "...do you...want...to try this?" I asked many fraught minutes later, my voice just a whisper that nearly caught in my throat. "Us?" "Yes." It was so simple, and yet it broke my heart. Josh leaned over, a smile playing on his face; one flattened only by the painfully tender kiss we shared. As the sun continued to chase away the dark, that unshakeable clenching feeling came back as I realised: I might've just set myself up for failure again. Now that I'd given Josh everything I had to give, everything was compromised. I was terrified to have handed out my heart like that. But he had it. And even still, underneath the heavy slags of anxiety, lay the warming glow of hope. Hope stronger than death that I wouldn't come out of this broken, this time. The night melted between us as a glacier does while I held him, watching the morning come. End. ------ My other stories Racing Into the Night: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/adult-friends/racing-into-the-night/ Tabletops and Tablebottoms: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/tabletops-and-tablebottoms/