I tried hard not to think of the break up, I didn’t want to think of it at all. I didn’t want to think of his girlfriends until we stopped talking. Then, I really didn’t know much and it was odd to see him age and I couldn’t help but wonder how much had he aged when it came to me. How was his thinking about me now? He looks down and just nods, probably thinking even more where would his next moves go and what did my reply even mean when it came to the game board. I looked around, seeing all the vendors and people coming from the beach.

I always talk gibberish on the way if something is about to happen. I always found it fascinating how guys would really be far more anxious than I would show, talking would calm my nerves and I would just continue talking about how it was to get to theirs before we would hook up. I wondered if I could even attempt to use the same tactic on David. Was it a hook up? Where do we go from here-

The eternal question which struck me once things went awful. When I would lay in bed, curled up and my boyfriend would try to get some sense into me. I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t focus anymore, I would have my eyes open at night for them to rest from the day which would make me psychotic. Night would ease my nerves, as soon as I would see the sky going darker but when it came to winter, it would just make me depressed. I needed to change everything from the bed covers to my own being. I felt like I was losing myself. I wanted to connect myself, like when I thought of my childhood when I realized that I had been a man all along. David was connecting with some innocence I was missing. I was different and timid and I wanted to give the young me a happy ending to all the turmoil. I used to believe that in some parallel universe we were somehow together.

What if-

I was getting ahead of myself, like when one arranges a second meeting and the first hookup is downright shit. I don’t even know what my feelings are from day to day, so how could I predict something like that. Eternity scared me and I didn’t want to settle now. I didn’t want to look at people who had no more love stories to tell. I wanted to be an eternal lover of many somehow.

We would talk how we didn’t tolerate gay people back in the day. Had that changed or was he seeing me as a girl just because I was clean shaved for the wedding?

How much of a hint is it if I ask of his sexuality? Is that even something to ask? What about how he viewed me now even if he had called me Allan?

We hold our silence for a while, as we cross the street and then we both fake to be interested in the streets as we walk back to the hotel. We pretend to be looking at each other only briefly, even if he never escapes my vision and it reminds me of us sitting opposite and barely blinking not to miss a breath of the other. Even writing we feels odd and off, because I know how paranoid you would get, reading all of this. You never wanted me to even consider him again, because he had destroyed my soul, but somehow my love lived on and the worse is that I had really loved him at the time and that seemed to seep onto my fingers all over again.

He offers to go his room instead and frankly that’s better, because mine has clothes and toiletries all over. We avoid looking at each other in the elevator, both standing at different ends. I can even hear the footsteps when we walk down the corridor, as I keep looking at our feet. I want to grab him and somehow make me believe in the eternity of today’s night, even if I know that I’ve got some serious intimacy issues and commitment ones as well. There’s something going on in my head and I would never stop talking to a therapist if I could.

He opens the door for me, pushing his hair to his side. I walk in and as soon as he closes the door I turn to him.

Last time we were in a closed space he nearly kissed me because we ended up staring at each other. But neither of us made a move and I just stood up, not wanting to entangle myself into him once more because he had hurt me.

“I don’t think I could change. It was as if I had frozen in time. Something wasn’t letting me go.” And David is very close to me. I had changed drastically and I don’t even know if he realizes that he could love another me. I had changed so drastically. He doesn’t touch me.

“I changed.” I shrug. “I had to. I knew that you left me for something wrong in me-”

“I didn’t. I was always me.”

“I was the one left. I just thought of it and I ended up getting broken, just regaining some new me after every single time I wasn’t satisfied with myself.” I want something new every day. I straighten up. I’m scared as well. I don’t want him to love someone who I’m no longer. “I changed. I found out who I was.”

“Yeah, but it’s one thing digging out who you are and another is changing.” His eyes are too blue. “I knew who you were.”

“You knew I were a guy?” I smirk. “Even I didn’t know that back then.”

“Well… maybe somewhere deep down.” He looks away and shrugs, closing his eyes, tilting his head. “I freaked when I heard about it, frankly. It was quite a few years ago. But it made me think… if I was with a guy… maybe there was something to that.”

My heart runs a marathon without stopping, probably ahead of all my other organs, dousing them with blood.

“I had thoughts before that. I hooked up with a guy, before I even knew about you. I just didn’t want to think of it much. I kept having girlfriends in a row, just discarding them and wondering where the fuck were you. It was hard to find you beyond a few acquaintances and they wouldn’t speak much of you because they didn’t know.” My whole body goes cold and then hot again. I really tried to burn all bridges. “But it still screwed with my head. I didn’t know who I was either.”

“It was different dating you. Now, I know why. Well, I’ve known for a while.” He says quietly and looks away.

I want to touch him. I want to tell him that it’s going to be alright even if it is. Is it?

I wanted to ask him everything. Who exactly had told him and how did he really react, the full story. I wanted rain to start falling, so that we would be in a more concrete bubble where we couldn’t go outside the hotel, I missed tropical rain, where it wouldn’t stop for a while but this time Rio was fully dry unfortunately. But the heat felt good after running away from winter. My mind trails and we just keep darting towards each other’s eyes, confused. Where do we go from here?

I hate that question because it applies to so many things. Before I was impatient with the way life was headed for many years and now, when there’s some power to change things the question is asked. And looking around everyone has it pretty bad, but the desire to make it better somehow remains. Is that really such a bad thing?

I’m not even sure where I would go.

I’m lost and somehow his eyes hold a past where I had seen myself. I was different and lost then, but he’s giving me plenty illusions and we just stand by the door, David thinking far too much on what to say and he’s very hesitant to make any moves like always.

It would take him alcohol I believe or the night when truth unravels-

I breathe so heavily. David, I had loved him so. How is it to love someone when you’re not sure about yourself? Could I have gotten a chance to find out how is it to love him again even for a few brief lines, how it could have all tasted?

I look away and that’s when he puts his hand on my cheek. I close my eyes, he’s still a bit taller than I am. I didn’t get much of a growth spurt later even if I had been tall for my age when I was young. I don’t even know why I’m being so honest with you. I just want to atone for sins, because by the end of the day God forgives us all for those who acknowledge what we have done. I’m an confession box and you’re the priest, silent for now and probably judging me later once the confession and I am out of your sight.

He stops once he reaches my stubble, not being used to it, since his memory plays a different song. He trails back up and gets closer. Maybe we would discuss this best post coital and those are the glasses we need, just to give ourselves some hope and desires in a bleak reality.

“Where do we go from here?” I nearly whisper, opening my eyes and his lips hovering above mine. I look at his lips and then back up.

“Anywhere.” He says and kisses me.

I nearly jump from the surprise, as if burnt. I gasp into his mouth, pulling him closer by his collar. It gets passionate desperately quick, as we both put our arms around each other, not knowing every shade the over has changed to, but there’s too much of nostalgia and the kissing is already not as innocent as before, as we both rub our tongues against each other, sucking on lips and biting. My hands start trailing to the front of his shirt. I start undoing the buttons in haste, feeling myself far too excited-

Last time he saw me I dyed my hair blonde for the first time.

Last time we just sat close and talked, not aware that it would be it. We spoke of our plans and they didn’t include hooking up so many years later for sure.

He tilts his head lower to bite my neck. We’re both not aware of the future, frankly we’re just fucking, just like any other hookup only this one comes with tears and complications of the nostalgia we long for. It’s all under a different sauce which makes me wonder, what the fuck are we even thinking, but no matter how much I doubted it, I would undress him further and then he would just undo my pants. David traces the skin above my boxers first before sticking his hand inside.

“I always wanted to make you feel good.” And he strokes me, teasing me, getting his fingers wet with me. He kisses my neck, moving up to my ear. “What do you feel like?”

I realize that this isn’t a conversation I would have with you on the couch, discussing what we both feel or me pinning you down. In this case, he doesn’t even have the faintest clue of my tastes and how I feel. He’s about to unwrap me and fuck me.

I grab him by the chin, so that our eyes are locked.

“Fuck me hard.” My mind goes places where I wouldn’t go if I wasn’t so ridiculously horny and broken, the thrill excites me of fucking my first boyfriend. I hadn’t taken anything with me, so I’ll be the bottom for tonight. It’s not like this wasn’t what I thought of often. I do have to specify that I’d prefer front today. “Fuck me raw.”

He kisses me roughly and strokes me in circular motions, making me moan before pushing me onto the bed. David takes my pants fully off and goes down on me. I entangle my fingers in his hair, ruining how neat it looked a while ago. I spread my legs even wider, moaning, digging my nails into him. He gets me pretty near before he stops and goes up.

“Be a good boy and go on fours.” He says stroking my cheek again. We kiss as we remove the rest of our clothing. I do go on fours, digging my head into the pillow as I feel him slowly go painfully in. I’ve always felt pain in this certain position, but that’s what drove me wild. I liked pain, I liked pleasure, I loved sex with the all the feelings that came with it. Maybe that’s why I liked trying different people, seeing how they could please me and use me. I loved being used. I loved knowing that someone was receiving pleasure from me.

David kisses my back, waiting for me to adjust to him and his size.

“Fuck me.” I say, giving him the signal and he starts thrusting slowly, making me used to it before he picks up the pace to a much faster and rougher speed. I keep moaning, clutching the bed covers or the pillow, whatever my hand falls on and I hear him moan from behind. I am terribly near, but I keep trying to steady and not come yet.

He’s far too deep within me and I know this will all be a regret.

David puts his hands on my hips, thrusting even rougher.

“Fuck, this is so good.” He moans out and I can only imagine how he looks like, hair all destroyed and sweaty, flushed and sexy.

“Please… so good.” I breathe out, barely even knowing how to breathe. He puts one hand between my legs to stroke me once more. I moan louder. “Please… don’t, I’ll come then.”

David stops.

“I want to see you come.” He continues stroking me with his fingers, as I nearly bite the pillow from being so near and turned on. “Turn around.”

I do that and lay on my back, spreading my legs wide and he takes in the view with his eyes stopping a while on my chest with the scars, I guess. He leans down to kiss my nipples, lick them.

“Back to fucking.” He says and kisses me with haste. David sits up and positions himself, holding my legs as he sits up and thrusts without any introduction.

“Fuck!” I scream, feeling the pleasure hit me and he’s watching me. I breathe heavier with each thrust and he’s no different. It feels amazing.

It feels so good.

“You feel so… good!” And he leans his head back, closing his eyes, unravelling. That tips me over and I scream my orgasm out, shaking, thrusting harder against him, as I feel him fill me up. We thrust a few more times, riding the orgasms out until we stop.

David slides out of me and I feel a fair amount leaking out, which feels like the desert to it all. He looks down, grinning tiredly and then laying besides me. I put an arm around him, both of us barely breathing.

I had fucked my ex.

–

I like writing lengthy sex scenes and overall I’m a very sexual person, so I see no point in hiding it at all through my fiction. There’s no sex scenes with gay trans men written that are outside of erotica if you really look for it. Accepting my body was troublesome and my main problem was sex for many years, so now writing such things without the fear and crippling dysphoria is a triumph and I wanted to show that Allan is desperately wanted sexually. It’s a fucked up story and frankly writing it I really had to distance myself from the fact that I was basing on a very long gone love which I had moved on from. The whole story and writing it was an experience.

I haven’t spoken and I can’t claim anything and this is a work of fiction, where I just based off my experiences and my first heartbreak which lasted years from a friendship we should’ve never maintained. I just go through guys I’ve been with and all had gay rumours so that only fuelled the story.