#if i proceed to have nightmares for like three weeks again idk what the fuck im gonna do tbh im gonna feel so pathetic

[dreamcast-official]

i should probably go to bed early today. bc god knows after tomorrow i wont be sleeping for a fucking while (i am going to watch a horror movie)

[hainethehero]

could you write a monty x winston smut imagine? where he alive, winston gets justice and clears monty's name. then they reunite when he gets let out, they admit their feelings and have sex xoxo

I took so long to write this but I wanted it to be perfect 😢 it turned out to be more angst than smut but, idk I just love the dynamic between these two.

(I'd like to also point out that though Monty didn't kill Bryce, there is no justice to be had when it comes to his rape charges. He still has to spend time behind bars for what he did to Tyler, so keep that in mind.)

Five years.

It's been five, long years since Montgomery de la Cruz had seen a full day of the outside world.

He can almost remember the day they'd incarcerated him, shackled him like the criminal he was, and had thrown him behind solid iron bars. His father had spat on him like a piece of garbage on the roadside. Called him a faggot and had left him to rot in the Crestmont California Correctional facility. He was eighteen then, so they tried him as an adult. He'd gotten the maximum; seven years behind bars with the possibility of parole.

But, by some miracle, his sentence had gotten reduced due to a cover-up by Deputy Standall and Clay's group which had revealed Alex as the person who'd actually killed Bryce Walker. Well, Alex had sort of just pushed Bryce from the bridge and let him drown while Jessica watched. She had been marked down as an accomplice.

<em>It was fucked up.</em>

But Monty took it with a grain of salt.

He knew what he'd done to Tyler was wrong. And he accepted his doomed fate with a new mindset. There was no way he could ever forgive himself for what he'd done. No way Tyler would ever be the same after that and he had to accept the cold fact: he was sick. And he deserved his punishment. The only thing left to do, was change. Bryce had it right the second time around when he started mending his ways. Didn't make him a hero or whatever, but changing was better than remaining the same evil, unfeeling monster he'd been.

His world had changed immensely since he got tossed behind bars. He suffered nightmares, mostly about Tyler and that day in the school's washroom. Other times, he'd dream about his father beating him to death after finding out about him and Winston.

And Winston...

Oh, that boy was the truth and solace Monty had never known. He was the kindness, when Monty faced nothing but fierce beatings from the other prisoners. And he was the warmth when Monty grew cold at night, curled up under his threadbare sheets. He'd visit Monty whenever he could, which was often. And he'd bring all sorts of pictures of the college he'd been accepted into. He'd talk about life outside the walls, and make promises that Monty was sure he probably couldn't keep.

Promises like, "We'll go to Paris one day." and "I can't wait for you to come home. I can give you a tour of the whole campus."

Monty was sure he'd stay behind bars forever, but, he smiled and nodded anyway, giving in just to make Winston happy.

Because Winston made him happy.

His father never visited him after the first day. Every time he called the house, the man would either be too busy or too drunk to hold a conversation. But Monty still called, hoping that the man had a change of heart. Hoping that he'd get the chance to speak to his mother again.

But no.

No such mercy.

He expected that much from his fucked up family anyway.

He'd been a bastard ever since the day he was born. That wasn't about to change now.

"Hey," a soft voice interrupts, banishing his dark thoughts and pulling him back to the present.

He's standing just outside a city apartment, in New York. The place is very alive around him, despite the darkened moonlit sky above. There are people bustling about, dressed cozily in boots, stockings and trench coats. The weather has been growing colder as the holidays gained on them. But Monty finds that he doesn't particularly care about the fact.

He's just happy to see the world again.

"C'mon, it's freezing out here." Winston murmurs, keys in hand.

"Here," Monty chuckles softly, wrapping his own jacket around Winston's shoulders before taking the keys himself.

They practically pour into the apartment, locking the door behind them as the cold wind follows them in.

"Ugh, I hate this weather." The boy complains, kicking off his shoes.

Monty snorts and shrugs innocently. "I've kinda missed it. Don't worry though, I'm sure I'll be sick of it by the next week."

Winston smiles at him and bites his lip, suddenly all blushy and shy.

"I've really missed you. Having you around, seeing your face everyday... being able to hold your hand... it's been so hard." He murmurs softly, their noses brushing together.

Monty considers him briefly before pulling him into his arms.

"Same here." He replies honestly, his chest constricting with the pain of realization that it's only been three days since he was last behind bars. Surreal wasn't even close to explaining this experience but he took each emotion in stride, a bit nervous to show Winston the changed man he had become.

"The first night I spent in that cell, I got beat up. Real bad, by some of the guys who'd been in there longest. They called it initiation, like some kind of hazing. I ended up with like... four cracked ribs and a broken jaw I think. But all I could think about was you."

Winston pauses and glances up at him with teary eyes, arms wrapped tight around his waist.

"Me?" He says with a soft smile.

Monty nods earnestly. "Yeah, you. I thought about that night... when we... y'know. And I thought about how you'd let me... let me just fuck you right there on your bed... And then spend the rest of the night with you. I'd thought for sure that you would've wanted me gone. But the next morning, you were in the kitchen making me toast or some shit."

They both snort at that, soft laughter filling the cozy apartment. Monty cups Winston's jaw and pulls him in close for a gentle kiss.

"I thought you'd be hungry." The Hillcrest boy defends cutely.

Monty's grin only grows wider and he kisses him again.

"Thinking of you got me through that first night. And then you came to see me the next day. Totally made it all worth it."

Winston blinks away a few tears and kisses Monty back, deep and intimate.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you either. Wanted you from the moment I saw you at that party. Still want you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Things get hot and heavy from there, lips locking and tongues tasting the other's until they're suddenly breathing as one. They make it up to the bedroom with much distraction and difficulty, nearly tripping on the stairs and tumbling but Winston holds Monty close before any of that happens.

Within the dark confines of the room, Winston immediately gets to work, going down on his knees to undo the zipper on Monty's jeans. They both chuckle a little at the memory of when they'd first met and Monty runs his fingers through Winston's dark, wavy hair. It's not rough, like before, or firm; it's just a gentle hand through his hair to soothe him. And it works. Winston winks cheekily at him before swallowing him down.

"Oh fuck!" Monty hisses, his eyes closing slowly, head thrown back as he thrusts slightly. Winston's mouth is just as tight and wet as it had been the first time. He takes Monty's length down til it prods the back of his throat, riling up his gag reflex but he doesn't let up. He keeps sucking like a champ, trying to bring Monty to the edge.

"F- fuck yess-" The boy moans out loud, his toes curling into the carpeted floor. He slips off his shirt as Winston pulls back a little, kicking off his jeans.

"Wanna ride you." Winston murmurs, getting up from his knees to kiss Monty deep and hard. He takes a moment to admire the body prison had gifted Monty with. It's well-muscled and defined by hard lines and smooth curves. The veins are raised in his arms and his torso is ridged but not overly so. He looks beautiful.

Even in all of his abashed glory.

"Take my clothes off." Winston orders quietly, his eyes following the nervous ticking of the boy's jaw. He looks a little scared, Winston notices, and he imagines it has something to do with the time he'd spent in the correctional facility.

"I-" Monty begins but his voice becomes all choked up and he lowers his head sadly. Winston frowns and runs his fingers through the boy's short hair, soothing him.

"Hey, it's okay. Look at me. Monty, look at me."

Monty meets his eyes reluctantly and all he sees are tears, glistening in those hazel brown orbs... and shame. He presses a soft kiss to Monty's forehead and pets his hair gently.

"I'm sorry..." The boy sobs, resting his head on Winston's shoulder. The raven haired boy holds him instead, arms coming to wrap around his neck, hand on the back of his head.

"Shh, it's okay. You're alright now. You're here, with me. I'm right here with you." He whispers into Monty's ear, placing tiny kisses on his jaw and his temple.

"You're here... And I'm here." Monty repeats, nodding hard as if he had to make sure he believed his own words.

"We're okay..."

Winston nods, holding the boy's face in his hands. "Yes, we're okay. You can let it go now. You did your time. And now you're home. And I'm really, really happy you're here."

It takes a while but when Monty finally cracks a genuine smile, Winston feels all of the boy's anxiety and shame go away, like waters receding from a shore. It's lethargic and deep and he doesn't take it for granted as they go in for another kiss. This time, he feels Monty let go of the morbid thoughts in his mind and grins as the boy begins to dominate the kiss.

"Mmh."

"God you taste so good." Monty whispers, burying his face in Winston's neck, desperate to mark the boy, to show him just how much he'd missed him. Winston moans out loud at the sensation of teeth scraping gently over his Adam's apple. He growls deep in his throat and strips off his own clothes.

"Fuck me. Please- I want you to fuck me."

Monty observes him silently as he gets naked and then proceeds to crawl backwards onto the bed. He follows the boy, a cute grin on his face as his brown eyes trace the smooth length of Winston's body. He hovers over him, arms pressed on either side of the boy's head, like he's about to do a push-up. He lowers himself down, biceps flexing and kisses Winston on his forehead instead.

"Hey," he grins, his chuckle coming out in choked, staccato breaths.

Winston's eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles up at Monty. "Hey." He says softly, gasping a little at Monty's hand brushing his bare hips. It felt like euphoria, feeling Cruz's hands on him again. He told the boy that much and then did his best to ignore the tears glistening in those beautiful hazel eyes.

"Hm- ...you ready?"

Winston bites his lip and gives Monty his best, 'I'm ready' grin. He spreads his legs and then hooks his ankles around the brunette's waist, causing him to thrust his hips down. The friction is overwhelming and they both have to pause before one of them blows.

"F-f fucking hell babe-" Monty shudders, hissing as Winston bucks up into his thrusts. Their naked skin rubbing together increases the heat of arousal. Winston whimpers at the term of endearment that had slipped past Monty's lips, turned on in a way he hasn't been in a long time.

"Oh, like that don't you?" Monty smirks, spitting into his palm and jerking the boy's cock in tandem with his thrusts.

Winston whimpers again, his body going taut when he feels the boy's hands stroking him sensually. Molten arousal lights up his stomach and he can feel himself peak.

"W- wait! Stop- Jesus- I can't-" He sobs, accidentally pushing the boy off him. Monty immediately freezes and pulls back, looking embarrassed and panicked.

"I'm sorry I-" He starts but Winston brings him back with a gentle kiss on the forehead.

"Its okay. I promise, I just... I didn't want to cum before you even got inside me."

Monty's eyes light up in understanding and his cheeky grin returns.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Winston nods with a smile, wrapping his legs around the boy's waist again, pulling him in close. Their naked bodies touch and rub and slide against each other, smooth skin and firm muscle. It's beautiful and undeniably hot, the way Winston is rutting against Monty like some kind of bitch in heat.

"You're so fuckin beautiful." Monty whispers, before hiding his face in Winston's neck. He lines up his cock with the boy's hole, the head prodding at that slick heat. Winston moans at the touch and arches his back, panting when Monty begins to push in.

"Mhm! Oh shit- baby-" He hisses breathlessly as the burning sensation intensifies between his legs.

"So fuckin tight!" Monty grunts, pulling back a little to give his raven-haired lover some time. He kisses the boy's brow, then his cheek, the tip of his nose, and then those soft lips. It's a much needed distraction for Winston who finally relaxes into the kiss, opening his eyes and whimpering as Monty pushes in another inch.

"Please... please, please..." He begs breathlessly, hands in Monty's hair, tugging at the short strands firmly.

"Fuckin missed this." Monty sighs, thrusting experimentally, Winston's tiny moans and whimpers urging him on.

It gradually becomes rougher- just the way Winston likes it, and he finds himself falling even further for the messed up boy with a record. His parents would absolutely kill him if they knew he was fucking a guy who'd went to prison. But they didn't matter.

Not after five long years of waiting for Montgomery de la Cruz.

Nothing else mattered but him.

With that thought in his head, he rises up and manoeuvres himself out from under Monty.

"Wha-" Monty starts but he fixes him with his own hands so that he's lying on his back and issues a deep, dirty kiss down the guy's throat.

"I wanna ride you."

Monty's impressed grin says it all, so Winston reaches behind himself, and slides that thick length back inside of him. The tip brushes past some spot deep inside of him and his thighs shake a little.

"Mhm... yes- fuck-"

"Oh ssh- shit-baby..." Monty chokes, his hips thrusting involuntarily.

Winston grinds down on his cock to meet his thrusts, thighs sliding deliciously against his hipbones. He tightens up on each upward drag, causing Monty to hiss as pleasure and arousal sparks like exposed wires inside him. His grip on Winston's hips is tight, almost bruising and he's sure there'll be fingerprints marring the boy's pale skin tomorrow.

But he doesn't care.

Some carnal part of him wants to mark the boy. Wants to make him his again. He'd had him once, all those years ago... And now that he'd done his time, and was free, he wanted to have him again... and again and again.

He told him as much.

And that's when Winston pauses, rolling his hips slow and deep, intertwining their fingers together, staring unabashedly into his eyes.

"I want you too... never- ...I never wanna lose this... lose you, again." He whispers, tightening his fingers over Monty's.

Hazel eyes start to glisten but they never stop staring back at him. Monty's brow furrows cutely as he smiles despite his tears. And Winston can't quite put his finger on it but Monty's smile reminds him of sunlight after a rainstorm, breaking out from behind grey clouds. It's like he's the same person Winston's always known... but better.

"C'mere." Monty whispers, not waiting as he reaches out to pull the boy down over him. Their lips touch, soft and timid at first, before it grows into something far more meaningful and deep. Their breaths mingle and a string of saliva stretches between their tongues as they break apart. Winston pulls the sheets over them and continues to ride slowly until they reach the edge together.

"Fuck I'm gonna-"

"Cum in me. Please, cum in me, please..." Winston sobs, his hole tightening as he cums seconds after Monty blows his load.

Only the sounds of their harsh breaths and grunts fill the room for some time. Monty's low-timbred "Oh fucks" are accented by Winston's softer, more airy, "yes, please, please, please." They don't stop grinding against each other until all of their pent up arousal and emotions eventually drain away, leaving them both exhausted but completely satisfied. Monty lies there, eyes wide open, panting tiredly while Winston curls up on top of him, head on his chest. They're sweaty and warm but it doesn't feel unbearable.

It's a good, blissful kind of warmth that keeps them both tucked under the blankets, with soft smiles on their faces.

At least, Monty was smiling.

He frowns slightly when a soft sob escapes Winston's throat and the boy burrows deeper into his neck to hide.

"Hey," He murmurs softly, rubbing Winston's shoulder gently. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." The raven-haired boy whimpers, shaking his head. "Nothing, it's fine. I'm fine."

Monty observes him silently, stroking his wavy locks, brushing some strands out of his eyes. "No, you're not."

Winston deflects again and instead kisses him. He accepts the distraction for a while, letting the boy slide their tongues together, their lips pressed in a tight fit. But then he feels the tears drop onto his own cheeks and he pulls back.

"Please. Tell me what's wrong. Talk to me- if it was something I did-"

Winston immediately shakes his head. "No, it- it's not you, I-" His voice chokes off on another sob and he scrapes his nails against Monty's chest.

"Win-"

"I thought you'd never come back, okay?" He finally says through gritted teeth.

Monty freezes, mouth hanging open slightly.

Winston rolls his eyes and shakes his head, looking away while he's still lying on Monty, legs spread on either side of the boy's waist, cum dripping down his thighs.

"I thought- mmh... I thought they'd sentence you to life in prison or something. Clay and his stupid friends framed you for murder I- ...I couldn't let them do that to you."

"Hey, I know. It's okay now. I'm here." Monty reassures the boy gently, running his fingers through that soft, dark hair. "Look at me... Winston, look at me."

When the boy finally looks up into his eyes, he freezes, shocked by the raw emotion displayed there. He's never had anyone look at him like that before. Usually his Dad would look at him with disdain, like a roach on the floor that needed squishing. Or his mother would barely even look at him, and when she did, her eyes would be filled with a terrible disappointment. His friends weren't an exception either. They barely valued his friendship and he barely offered any in the first place.

But Winston...

Winston was the unexpected exception.

He didn't just look at Monty, no. He gazed at him, with eyes full of wonder and endearment. Like he hung the moon and lived among the stars. Lile some kind of precious thing that needed saving... needed love and needed protecting.

He wasn't used to that kind of love. That kind of emotion.

But he holds the boy's face in his hands and brings him in close, tears in both their eyes.

"Hey-" He whispers gently.

"I think I love you."

[philcreateddan]

I found you thinking about me

title: I found you thinking about me

words: 2k

warnings: none

the windows cleaner rushed au nobody asked for but I still wrote after reading it at @antiphannie ‘s blog

it’s 2am so I won’t feel responsible if there is a typo or the plot doesn’t make sense maybe it will in the morning idk 

In retrospective he should have seen it coming. When his mom had phoned him with a cheering voice, a tone a bit too high, that should have been his first clue. The “meeting” she enthusiastically, too enthusiastically, sold him with his uncle should have been his second clue. The complete obviation of his financial situation during the whole conversation his third.

In retrospective, Dan should have known his mom had arranged him a job interview but he fell for it anyway.

Now it was too late.

Way too late because he is already flustered and his uncle (Al? diminutive of what he doesn’t remember) is very fast while explaining the job he has in mind for him. There is a moment of sheer panic where Al the uncle seems to consider the idea of having Dan as an actual part of the construction on the last apartment. His face must have been enough for the idea to die just as quick and at least Dan breathes in the certainty he won’t accidentally throw a hammer into someone’s eye.

He is waved goodbye with an hour for the next day and that is how Dan ends up getting a part time job cleaning windows.

The building his uncle is working on is not as big. Nine floors, the top one being renovated due a plumbing problem which must mean a nightmare for the other floors, Dan thinks. Most of the walls have gigantic windows and balconies, their fence also of glass. And those are Dan’s job.

For ten convenient pounds the hour Dan puts on a  fluorescent yellow implements of security and with a few explanations of how to clean in the least amount of time, starts at the fourth floor. He has been given the floors of below while someone else was in charge of the top ones. Dan suspects his uncle has been part of that unfair measure but he wasn’t going to complain.

The scissor lift sounds and shakes and Dan is glad that of many of his fears, height isn’t one of them. The lift stops on the balcony of the fourth level and he cleans the glass fence first. Mr. Miyagi in mind, M.I.A. blasting on his ears he finishes quite fast then proceeds to jump into the balcony to clean the windows. And almost trips over a golden pig.

Dan recovers his balance before falling into what seems to be a soon to be tree and that is when he takes a moment to look at the balcony. What has been put on it by the owner. Apart from the golden pig of doom, at least a dozen of plants, and the too big to be a houseplant one, in pots of different colors and on the opposite corner, right between a chair and a coffee table, a cock. The rooster figurine looking completely off on cement instead of grass.

Again Dan has to recover in order to do his job. Whoever lives there, he thinks disappointed of the closed curtains, doesn’t have taste at all.

The rest of the day goes by fluidly, no other balcony the same but neither as shocking as the first one. It’s early enough for most of them to still have their curtains closed and some of them are not even home which is a relief. His arms are sore and he is asked to come back next week which is good because he needs the money but his unused muscles are already screeching in pain by the time he has to handshake his uncle.

The week goes by in a blink and the scissor lift guy recognizes him enough to wave and smile. Dan smiles and half bows and keeps walking by mind kicking himself for being so weird. Tyler, the creator is his companion this time and he is too immersed lip singing to notice at first that the curtains are open.

Dan steps on the balcony carefully this time. Nods the golden pig of doom and stops when he turns to the first window. The kitchen is visible. A few more plants are there and at least three boxes of cereal which must mean a family lives there. Explaining the weird figurines. If he gets a bit closer he can almost see the magnetic figures on the fridge.

But he is freezed on spot because there is someone in the kitchen. Someone who hasn’t seen him yet and is preparing a cup of coffee.

Dan considers for a moment moving swiftly to the other extreme of the balcony and start there instead but of course he is anything but swift and the movement alerts the person inside. There is a shared moment of panic when their eyes meet because Dan feels his skin heating with embarrassment and the other person looks like a scared deer in front of a car.

He reminds himself that he is working and should go on like the professional  window cleaner he is so he takes a few breaths and focuses his sight on the immediate bright thing his peripheral vision has been focusing on to give the man some privacy.

Golden pig of doom owner is wearing bright yellow emojis pajamas.  

Dan blinks a couple of times but before he can contain himself a snort erupts from his chest. That is, by far, the most hideous layer of clothing he has ever seen. Covers his hand and looks back up at the guy who follows his gaze and blushes. For a second there Dan thinks this guy is going to close the curtain, complain to his uncle and he will lose his job just like that. Ugly pajamas rolls his eyes instead and exits the kitchen.

Dan laughs a little then, taking out the implements to clean the windows after wasting so much time already when a voice nearby startles him.

“They are cozy alright? And I will not be laughed at by a possible burglar this early in the morning.” His voice has a subtle yet present northern scent Dan would have laughed at if he had not been taken by surprise like that.

“I-I’m not a… I mean…” he points to the lift waiting for him and the pajama guy doesn’t react.

“I know. It was a joke.”

“Oh.”

“I doubt a thief would wear a security helmet.” He says on the same monotone tone.

Dan looks up being reminded of the stupid helmet that makes his hair looks worst than a drunk bird nest afterwards and says “Right.”

The guy seems to think for a moment, rubs the pinch of his nose and enters the flat again.

Dan wants to flee. He starts cleaning the windows at speed of sound and considers asking his uncle to maybe clean every floor but this one when his peripheral vision alerts him once more of pajama guy. Looks to his right and a mug is handed his way.

“Sorry. I am not an early morning kind of person and without caffeine in my blood I am a grumpy rude white version of Hulk.” He says with a kinder voice already, his face a little heated but less stoic.

Dan takes the mug out of inertia. “Bruce Banner is white though.” He retorts mind kicking himself again so he takes a sip of the coffee to shut his mouth instead. Too hot and strong for his likes.

The guy lifts an eyebrow but shrugs “I believe my skin is whiter than his. My Hulk form would be a nice pastel green.”

Dan almost sputters.

“Guess Hulk is the definition of grumpy anyway. But you get the point.”

“Not laugh at your pajamas before you have coffee. Got it.”

“It was either this ones or nothing at all so they saved us from a different kind of awkward moment.” He says taking a slurp of his maybe second cup and this time Dan does choke a little with the bitter beverage. “Or not awkward. Either way it would have been a moment worth recording on camera.”

Dan’s jaw probably disconnects from his mouth for a moment there. He notices then how the guy is wearing glasses and the just woke up quiff and how they are almost the same height and a bit of stumble on his chin and Dan believes this could be the start of a porno. He would though. He so would.

“I’m scaring you enough for today. It’s the lack of coffee, I’ll leave now. If you need anything let me know.”

Dan doesn’t look but he could swear the golden pig is laughing at him.

The following week he tells, Tom; scissor lift guy, he wants to start at the bottom and Tom says that’s not as practical but doesn’t complain.

Ivy Ocean is singing in his ears and this time Dan has come prepared to not be taken back by cute ugly pajamas guy (a nickname his friend Louise has laughed about for at least five minutes) if he is there again.

As soon as the machinery stops he notices something on the coffee table. His curiosity takes the best of him and he jumps in right away.

A bowl full of cereal, one glass of milk and one cup of coffee. Dan doubts his half time job allows him a thirty minutes recess for breakfast so he looks at the note next to the bowl.

Apologies for last week :( Not my best behavior. If you need anything ask Piggy, it knows where the bathroom is ^-^

–Phil

Dan takes the glass of milk and given he doesn’t have a pen with him, commits a crime on his profession. Foams a part and instead of cleaning it, writes on it. Messes it up a few times so he goes for short sentences instead.

Thanks. Can’t eat that much at work. Piggy bullies me >_> Cellphones are a thing :3

–Dan

The week after he brings a pack of notepads and a pen and low hopes because, as Louise had said “He could be married or living with his mother or worst; be straight! Dan for fucks sake at least get in his house and check the insides of his drawers before anything else!”

Phil is there already, sitting on his chair this time. Two mugs on the table. One apparently empty.

“I think I did a better job cleaning my window last week Dan.” He greets with a smile. He isn’t wearing his glasses this time and his hair seems to have been accommodated to look not as just woke up-ish. Dan still finds his face fascinating.

“Difficult to clean and eat at the same time.”

“I’ll never offer you cereal again then.”

Dan starts to foam up the windows “Maybe your roommate will.” He says, testing the waters.

For a moment Phil doesn’t answer so Dan looks at him. Phil’s eyes are wide open glancing inside his flat. “I live alone so if last week you met someone here it was either an inverse kind of thief or I should call an exorcist. Stop laughing!”

To be fair Dan is laughing so hard he composes himself before it turns more embarrassing. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t meet anyone, I only assumed… sorry but your face!” Phil puts a hand on his heart and sighs.

“Oh my God. I just moved in I don’t know if there is an entity polite enough to let cute window cleaners in when I’m away. Next time just ask me what you want to know.”

Dan’s still smiling and somehow manages to keep foaming when he says “Alright then. What made you buy a real tree for a balcony?”

Dan comes down at least an hour later and Tom gives him a look, tells him next week he should try to be faster or they’ll get complains. With a new contact on his phone and new information to give to Louise, Dan assured Tom next week he’ll be earlier than ever.

Weeks go by between texts and calls and video calls and working hours with Phil cleaning each leaf of his houseplants while Dan does his own job.

Between jokes and anecdotes and questions.

Between Phil learning Dan is a philosophy student who enjoys conferences more than actual classes and would love to try theater if he weren’t afraid of falling off stage so much.

Between Dan learning Phil is four years older and works with a friend called PJ making games and it is the first time he can afford such a big flat without the help of his parents.

Between Dan realizing this person is one he doesn’t want to let go and that maybe Phil wants to keep him near just as much.

In retrospective he should have seen it coming. When Tom winked and told him to say hi to fourth floor guy. When the golden pig of doom was on the table instead of the floor, Frank Ocean singing in his ear the moment he saw the window covered in foam with Phil’s signature letter on it.

Wanna go on a date tonight? No emoji s pj’s  ;3

–Phil

In retrospective, Dan should have known. But he doesn’t care, because he writes underneath it just as fast and even pets the damn pig.

Finally. Txt me details. Mushy dork

–Dan

[danzomantic]

I find myself in another one of those times where I am approaching a fork in the road. This evening, I leave a friends home a bit confused on what path I should take going forward.

To understand my situation, I have to start at the beginning.

So, back around mid September, I am on Grindr when I receive a message with a face/torso image of a gorgeous, young, smiling, Asian man. He says “hi” to which I respond “hey, how’s it going” my typical response when I see a sexy man, careful not scare them away with my excitement. In actuality, I wanted to chat him up. It’s as if the future with this man flashed before me and I wanted to grasp it with both of my hands.

See, I’ve been looking for that one; that one and only. And when I think I have him, he tells me that he isn’t ready for anything serious. I’m just a fuck, nothing more. That doesn’t sit well with me.

Back to this man. We engage in high level conversation about our interests, politics, a bit of our familial goals, should a serious relationship arise. These conversations had me engaged, and seriously interested. This sexy Asian, twinky man had me checking my grindr to see if he sent me a message so I could respond. You know what I’m talking about. I know you do.

I was to be heading out of state on a business trip. This was the time where we exchanged numbers and turned the conversation over to text messaging. We continue to message each other throughout my work trip. Once I got back, I agreed to meet when I got back. I was going to be in the office that weekend, getting some work done, catching up, since I was out of state. To break away from work, we meet at Temple coffee. I’ve never been to temple coffee before. I arrive early, like I always do, and wait anxiously as he arrives. He wore a light blue shirt, with light blue designer jeans, and these, what looked to be brown Spanish leather shoes. First thing I thought was “dayyammm, he knows how to dress and is much sexier in person.” The photos he sent don’t compare to what he looks like in person.

We greet each other and end up spending two and a half hours taking about an assortment of topics. I let him know that I should head back to my office and get some more work done. So we go our separate ways.

In the next couple of weeks we go on dates were they mostly consist of eating dinner out in nice restaurants. But something happened on the 2nd date that connected some dots for me. See, one of the guys I was talking to, before this fabulous man, that said he wasn’t ready for anything serious, happens to be his ex and current roommate. Something that was said on the date connected the dots for me. (This isn’t important until a later on).

So fast forward to Monday, October 23rd. I see his post on Facebook saying “One of those nightmare come true sort of days and the alarm won’t wake you up.” I was concerned that something happened. Well, we chat and he is clearly distraught. I asked if he would like to meet up and get his mind off of what’s going on, and he said yes. We meet up at my good friends house and just relax. I know that he wants to get it off of his chest but the opportunity inside the house was never presented for him to do so. So we went outside, said bye to my friend and head over to our cars that were parked across the street. It was about 11 at night, pretty late for me, conserving I go to bed around 9pm. I ask, so what is going on. After some time of silence passes, he tells me that his boyfriend of over the past year broke up with him that day. My heart immediately sank. My mouth got dry, I tried to gulp, or swallow, but had nothing to swallw down my throat. I thought to myself, this is the time to put aside my emotions towards this man, and listen to what he had to say. The next two hours were comprised of him talking, me listening and asking questions to figure out the whole story.

In the back of my mind, I was thinking, “why am I doing this? Why I am allowing this to happen to me again.” I then thought, I should be a good friend and listen to his sorrow, and try to help him understand the situation, being some optimism to the situation. In the meantime, I’m confused to why this man would want to go on dates with me, spend time with me, when he was with another man?

Fast forward, to a week ago. He is in better spirits. I try to keep him happy and smiling. Something slipped out of his mouth that had me reevaluating our friendship, maybe a relationship to be. He tells me that his ex was talking highly of me and that got him jealous. That led him to message me on Grindr. At that moment, idk why I relate to the feeling this way, but I felt as if I was a dare or a bet to him.

This brings me to today. We go out to have dinner, with the both of them and myself. After dinner, we go over their home and I was intending to just drop them off and go home to catch up on some sleep. This man told me that I am welcome to come in, I’m not not invited. So I park my car and head in. Throughout the night, I noticed something was different about his daminer. We went ahead and watched a tv. He flips onto his stomach and mentions something about a back massage. When I flip on top of his back, I see him on his phone, sorta hidden behind his pillow. I see him quickly tapping his home button to switch apps. He was on Grindr, and trying to hide it from me. I got a knot in my stomach. I got really quiet, and noticeably awkward. See, we had talked about how I can get jealous a few days prior. That’s exactly what happened.

The three of us proceed to have sex. After this man fucked his ex, he went and showered, not waiting or watching me fuck his ex. He is usually into that. So I fuck his ex, and then decide that I’ll skip rinsing off in his shower, and just head home.

So this long story brings me to right here, right now; parked besides the park I go to when I need to think things through on late nights, wayyyy past my normal bedtime. I ponder of the path ahead I will be taking. The path where I value myself and friend zone this man, or the path where I keep going on, accepting this kind of behavior.

He did not tell me about being in a relationship when we first met. He took it upon himself to message me as a result of being jealous that his ex was raving about me. He is feeling the need to search for other men on these apps, when still talking with me. These are all bad signs of what can happen in the future.

There is one variable that I cannot deny. I really, really like this man. I’m 25, and he is about to be 29. For once, with him, I am talking with a mature individual that is around my age. I do not have to date a 47 year old to get a mature individual, like my most recent ex of two and a half years. I feel stuck and not quite sure what to do.