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You were dancing in your tube socks in our hotel room,
Flashing those eyes like highway signs
Light one up, and hand it over, rest your head upon my shoulder
I just wanna feel your lips against my skin
Aaron looked up from his spot on the bed, half wrapped in sheets amidst the haze of sex, and watched his lover slide across the floor in tune with the rhythm of the music. It was a typical hotel, nothing special except for the view from the balcony, but it was special to them. It was theirs. The single spot that no one new about. The single spot that connected neither of them to their transgressions even though many went down behind the closed hotel room door. But it didn’t matter when they were together and it didn’t matter once the door had closed and they were on the other side of it. What happened in this hotel, stayed in this hotel.
But things were happening. Things were changing beneath the surface of their lighthearted facade and it would only take a single look, an ill tempted brush of a finger tip, for their whole ruse to come crumbling down around them. It was happening, things were changing, and as Alexander laid his forehead against his bare back and wrapped his arms around his waist, Aaron wondered how long it would take for it to fall.
Aaron gasped lightly as Alex dragged his lips down his spine, leaving trails of feather light kisses and burning sensations, and held on tighter to the railing of the balcony. The breeze coming through the city was warm and humid. There was nothing like summer in the city. When fire sirens sounded less and taxis seemed farther away than usual. When the humidity slid through the streets, steam rolling those of inconsequence, and dredged up memories of the past.
It was always harder to resist Alex in the Summer. The Summer months were when he thrived, when he was back in his element, and he used it to his advantage. But this Summer was different.
White sheets, bright lights, crooked teeth, and the night life
You told me this is right where it begins
But your lips feel heavy underneath me
And I promised myself I wouldn’t let you complete me
“I hate leaving you.” He’d said once after the haze had faded and they were once again dressed as appealing members of society.
“You’re just saying that.” Aaron had sat on the edge of the bed, retying his tie, and watched Alex tuck his shirt into his pants.
“No. I’m not.” He’d responded without pause. “Sometimes I feel like out there,” he gestured vaguely out the window, “Isn’t where i’m suposed to be. That’s not how I’m supposed to live. But here, here feels different. It feels better.” His words, as always, had Aaron stealing himself and quieting the swarm in his stomach. “Yea. I don’t like leaving you.” He’d placed a kiss on his lips, soft yet impatient, and left.
It wasn’t the first time, sure wouldn’t be the last, that he’d said something to make Aaron think that this was more than it was. That this was more than an office hook up. That this could be something. But then, just like every time, Alex would turn around and leave and Aaron’s thoughts would be shattered again.
He hadn’t known how it had happened. Somehwhere between shattering his heart and glueing it back togehter, Alex had imparted a piece of himself, and for the life of him, Aaron couldn’t claw it out. For all the times that he’d walked out that door, for all the times that he’d ignored and disrespected him, and shoved in his face that he was nothing more than the actions that took place behind closed doors, for every single hurtful word he’d said to his face, Aaron couldn’t get him out of his mind, out of his soul.
But that was Alexander Hamilton for you. He was a vibrant passionate soul that could convince you to take your own life if there was even an inkling of a thought for him to work with. He could sell ice to a penguin. He could write countries into existence and when he turned his sights on you, there was really no choice. What were you to do when his eyes grew dark as he caressed your face? How could you have denied his rough fingers across your chest? His soft lips against your skin?
It wasn’t Aaron’s fault.
I’m trying not to let it show, that I don’t want to let this go
Is there somewhere you can meet me?
Cause I clutched your arms like stairway railings
And you clutched my brain and eased my ailing
The first midnight call had come expected. Aaron had waited, his fingers curled around a chilled glass of scotch, and his feet kicked up on the coffee table. The phone had rang and he’d known exactly who was on the other side when he’d picked it up.
“There’s this hotel on the corner of 25th and Lex. Do you think you could make it?"
He hadn’t wanted to but damn. “Sure."
The calls hadn’t been frequent when it had started. Just a couple of times a month after days of frustration, after heated office arguments, when both of them needed to blow off steam, would they end up at that hotel. It hadn’t been importnat then, they’d both known what this was. But a couple of times a month had turned into a couple a week and Aaron started to see something that wasn’t there.
Aaron started to see Alex’s fingers sliding against his skin in his dreams. He started to see the man’s gentle smile when he closed his eyes. He started to see the twinkling eyes every where he turned. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But when their bodies were pressed together, when the humidity gripped their throats, when there were too many thoughts to speak, it was good. It was perfect. It was right where he needed to be.
“Eventually we’re going to need to stop this.” Aaron had forced the words from his throat as they stood on the balcony, towels wrapped around them selves haphazardly, doused in the evening sun.
Alex had laughed easily, the sound easing the tension immediately, “Eventually."
He didn’t see the problem and people like Alex never did. People who could have whatever they wanted whenever they wanted never cared about the repurcussions of their actions. People like Alex never cared about who they dragged down when they fell.
He’d gotten up from his chair, towel dropping obscenely, and crossed the balcony quickly. He grabbed Aaron’s neck and pulled him into a rough kiss. He pulled at his bottom lip, tugged it into his mouth, and Aaron moaned. Alex took his chance to pull him up from his chair and pull the towel off his waist. “But not today."
Now, when Aaron looked back at the time when he’d wanted to leave, he saw the signs. Saw the screaming notifications that he was falling, that they were both slipping into something too dangerous for them to handle.
He’d finally felt it when he’d been staring at the the grave of his long dead girlfriend. When the tears had been falling from his eyes for too long to remember. When the sky was a dark gloomy gray that took more than a day to correct.
“Is there somewhere you can meet me?” He whispered the words into the phone and the answer had been immediate.
“Sure."
You’re writing lines about me; romantic poetry
Your girl’s got red in her cheeks, cause we’re something she can’t see
And I try to refrain but you’re stuck in my brain
And all I do is cry and complain because second’s not the same
The first scrap of paper had been flung across his computer screen at work as Alex had passed his desk on his way to a meeting. It wasn’t significant; a couple of lines scrawled along lined paper. But Aaron had kept it nonetheless, tucked it into a jewlery box of his mother’s along with Theodosia’s necklace.
The next one had a note attached: Thinking of you. It had been simple, elegant, but it had sent Aaron to the bathroom with a panic attack. Was he really going to let it get this far? Were these words even true? He’d kept that one too.
He’d kept all of them and one day, after Alex had turned his sights back to the woman he supposedly loved, he would reread them and maybe his stomach wouldn’t churn from the mere thought. Maybe he would be ok with this one day when he wasn’t crying himself to sleep over things he couldn’t control. Because he could control himself and that was all that really mattered.
But when you’re heart is being erased by the hand that’s sketching it, it’s hard to see past the rationality behind it all. It’s hard to stand idle at Christmas parties and pretend that your heart didn’t lie in a man’s hand that currently held another's. Maybe one day he could resist the simple gesture, a flick of the eyes, and he wouldn’t follow behind him after a discreet amount of time. Maybe one day, he wouldn’t have to kiss him behind closed doors.
I’m sorry but I fell in love tonight
I didn’t mean to fall in love tonight
You’re looking like you fell in love tonight
Could we pretend that we’re in love?