Survive

It's hot, almost too hot, but I'll bear it. I'll bear it all for him. He moves beneath me, in rhythm with my body. His back is slick with sweat and clings to my chest and makes it seem as if we're joined at that one spot. I can see my breath puffing out in front of me, a small cloud of perspiration in the tiny room.

The bed creaks beneath us, rocking back and forth with each thrust and pull. The ground creaks with it and over the noise of heavy breathing, squelching, and the creaking of the bed and floor, the jangling of chains can be heard. I'll block it out for him. He pushes back against me, his arms locked, his large hands pushing into the mattress, his legs situated between mine.

My right hand curls around his waist, holding him up against me as my left hand is curled in a fist, pressing down into the mattress. A few more moments of this, a few more seconds of hearing his voice. The climax is about to come. I say his name over and over, in my mind, next to his ear, just let me stay inside him a little bit longer. Rock back and forth, push in and pull out again only to return to that warm, tight, wet place where we're connected and I feel almost whole again.

This is a secret. This is forbidden. This is dangerous. He could get hurt. I'll clean his wounds. I'll kiss his pain away. Kiss the back of his neck, his shoulders, his back, slick with sweat and spit. Every pore open and weeping. And in the back of my head the words repeat.

Life isn't like this. Life isn't like this. Life isn't like this. Life isn't like this. Life isn't like this. Life isn't like this. Life isn't like this. Life isn't like this. Life isn't like this. Life isn't like this. Life. Isn't. Like. This.

Repeat it one hundred times so in the morning you can move on and pretend that nothing has happened. So in the morning you can forget what it felt like to be whole and loved. This is just surviving. This is just surviving. This is just-

Please, a little more. A little longer. I promise I'll be better. I promise I'll try harder. Just don't let me forget. Life isn't like this. No- it is, it is, it is, it is. Just let me hold him a little longer. Just let me have him a little longer. Let me keep this forever. Let me have him forever. Let me survive-

You are. You are. You are. This. This is what makes you who you are. This love, this sweat and grief and hurt and blood. This rocking back and forth, this pulling and pushing, this act of carnal need. This is surviving. This is feeling alive.

Am I alive? Am I really here? Life isn't like this. Yes. It has to be. It must be. If it isn't I don't know what I'd do. Please tell me, tell me this is life. Tell me that this, that he, that we're really alive.

Wrap my hand around him and pull a few times. He stiffens, pushing back against me, forcing me as far as I can go. I tense behind him and bite my lip. If I just pull once more, if I just thrust once more it'll be the end. It'll be the end. Life isn't like this. Oh god please, Harry, tell me this isn't the end.

One pull, one thrust, the climax bursts, I pour myself into him. I'll do it forever if he'll let me. His arms shake and he collapses beneath me, hot, heavy, breaths puff out into small clouds in front of his cracked lips. He closes his eyes and takes a breath before turning over and looking up at me. Reach up, take me in his hands. I can't help the tear that falls, nor the short sob and bursts from my own cracked lips. Tell me this isn't the end. Life isn't like this.

The pressure is unexpected and the warmth that floods my chilled body is one that races through me like electricity. "Ron." I'll love you forever. I'll have you forever. This isn't just surviving. This is more. This is greater. This is who we are. Who we are.

Who are we Harry? Who are we? Are we best mates, enemies, lovers, family, or more? Am I just the side kick and you the hero? Are we going to live tomorrow? Life isn't like this Harry, it can't be. This can't be the end. Tomorrow can't be the end. Won't you answer my questions Harry? Tell me that we'll live. Tell me that this isn't the end. Lie to me. Lie to me. Please.

He wraps his arms around my neck and kisses my shoulder. "Life for you has been less than kind. So take a number and stand in line. We've all been sorry. We've all been hurt. But how we survive is what makes us who we are."

Will we survive? I pull back and look at him. Can he see the questions in my mind? He smiles, pull me back to lie beside him. I can only comply. Tomorrow we'll go to battle. Tomorrow we'll fight. Life isn't like this.

Tomorrow, perhaps we'll survive.

Fin