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I spend most of my days on my feet. Usually most people have this idea of me as Dexter the lab-geek, a man who spends his day sitting in his lab. It’s not true. Of course not. Apart from the occasional crime scene I also spend my nights hiding and walking and doing other exhausting activities on my feet. After a week of bad sleep and finally a night after a good kill it’s not very surprising that I find myself almost falling onto my couch.
It’s not really my scene. I usually head for the bed and drift off instantly. But I have a reason for picking the couch instead. One I could never share outside my head. It’s just me and my dark passenger sharing that one thought.
After a moment of stillness in the room but chaos in my head I decide to drown out my thoughts by turning on the TV. My eyes are barely open as I struggle to get the angle right when I start to zap through the channels. I settle on some joke of a news channel where some monotonous voice are babbling on about minimum wage. Pointless arguments to drown out my own thoughts. Precious thoughts, but too intense. Right now I need rest, not intense.
My eyelids finally win the battle as I turn away from the TV, breathing deep and embracing the warm darkness that take over my vision. Even as I drift off I make out noises, too tired to analyze them.
Suddenly – a hand on my calf.
I gasp, eyes flinging open and I’m staring into the back of my couch.
Fingers gently slide up my leg, the touch barely detectable through the fabric of my pants. A soft breath. I feel the air from it move against my ear.
“Biney…” I mumble.
There’s a laugh in his breath.
“You worry me, dear brother.” His hand settle in the curve of my back. “Lying here all defenseless. You should use that chain on your door.”
He’s teasing me. I know that. Though his voice is calm and collected with a hint of worry I know that he’s only trying to coax a reaction out of me. That’s why I close my eyes and go along with the defenseless act. For his sake.
“Maybe I forgot.”
His forehead meets my neck. “Oh?”
“Or maybe I knew there’s only one person stupid enough to break in here.”
With a slow movement matched to a long inhale he drags his nose through my hair. I shiver.
“Does that mean you’re okay with me breaking in here?” He smiles. I can’t see or hear it but I just know that he’s smirking behind my head. “If you want me in here so badly you should just give me a key.”
It’s not the first time he talks about a key. There’s always a key. Whether he wants the key to my apartment or to give me the one to our childhood home. It doesn’t matter. I’ve tried to explain it several times that it’s too risky. I won’t bother with it again.
“A key wouldn’t change anything.”
“Does that mean you’re okay with me breaking in here?” he repeats.
I hold my breath, searching my brain for an honest answer. In the end I can’t say it. He probably knows why.
“That silence of yours really has my blood pumping.”
Suddenly my act is real. I am defenseless. Even if I don’t say a word he knows that I keep the chain off my door so that he can come in. Just like this. To find me sleeping on the couch. Surprising me like a victim but touching me like only Brian can. With kindness, love and respect.
“I’ll stay until sunrise,” he whispers before climbing up next to me. I have to turn and move and we still barely fit on the couch. But he clings to me. I really like that. So desperate and needing. Something I don’t have but would never deny Brian.
Brian kisses the back of my head and once more I start to drift off. On the TV there’s still the same voice but I can’t make out what she’s saying. Brian’s soft breath is the only thing I can hear.
This. The sole reason I chose the couch. For that warmth. The closeness. No one can ever know, except for me and my dark passenger.