Chapter 4.1: The Whole Weekend, Bro...

The rest of the weekend is a whirlwind blur that makes me feel like I could be alive again. Apparently nothing stops a romantic weekend for these two, especially not an unexpected third. We end up lost in each other, the unpleasantness of figuring out who I am and what happened to me continually pushed aside for much more exciting activities.

While Angie and I keep it to long and lazy sessions of making out on the couch for now, Billy can never fully keep our hands to himself. I keep track of how long he can restrain himself as she leaves bruises down our neck, chest, shoulders, and arms. One night, we all manage to make it through an entire movie including credits before he snaps and shows me yet another reason I should have lifted in life. I don’t think being fucked against a wall was exactly a fantasy of mine then but it is now. Being the one to slide our cock in at a painfully slow pace as I swallow every moan our girlfriend gives leaves me breathless and shaking.

Angie makes sure to use every single item in her intimidating black duffel of sexual wonders she packed and I learn that watching really does have its merits. I can’t say it’s passive because even removing myself as much as I can from our body, I feel every single strike and caress and vibration and thrust and the tension it artfully winds in our body. She always gives me the softest sweetest forehead kiss before politely asking me to sit back and relax. Then she pushes our boyfriend to the edge and ever so gently nudges him over, catching him mid-fall. At the end of it all, we cuddle together until we feel like ourselves again.

Billy and I continue exploring our body and memories, discovering and rediscovering preferences we share. Surprising no one, we’re both bottoms more often than not. Where he loves to do exactly as he’s told most of the time, letting himself be taken to the very edge of his grip on restraint without a single word, I like pushing buttons until I’m forced to acquiesce and seeing just how much I’m allowed to get away with. I have no idea how she manages it, but Angie seems to always know exactly who she’s dealing with and handles it accordingly. Billy carefully shows me the memories of how long they’ve known each other, since halfway through their third year of college. I appreciate the care after how I reacted on our first night. He even shows me the first time she gives him an order and the immediate arousal it sparked in him. I try not to laugh at the fact that she told him to learn how to cook like an adult.

I try not to worry about any of the metaphysical laws I might be subject to as they start packing up, but I can’t hide things like that from Billy anymore. Now that we’ve figured out a way to get me to rest, he’s up before I am to cook or do a workout or simply take a quiet walk. That’s how I snap to whatever consciousness-adjacent thing I have to see us at the lakeside with a cup of hot coffee in our hand.

“Hey, Peej,” he says softly, trying not to attract any attention for seemingly talking to himself. While I can see that there are other cabins and their docks dotting the lakeside, everything is so secluded that seeing another person has to be impossible. How long were they running through the woods, him in a mask like his last name is Loomis, without anyone calling any kind of state agency again? The way he pulls a face and scratches awkwardly at the back of our neck says he knows I’m right. “Whatever, this feels like a whispery time. The sun’s not even up yet.” He takes a long pull of the coffee and, even though I know it has a half dozen powders and mixes in it from the morning I woke up to him concocting one of these abominations, it’s smooth and creamy and warms us perfectly. There’s a universe where he’s the world’s hottest buffest barista making every customer fantasize about him. I even helpfully show him what it would look like as a hot MILF tries to lure him into a supply closet with a flash of thigh and come-hither eyes. “Peej, c’mon, we gotta be serious for a second. It’s our last full day here. So I kinda came up with a plan.” He fumbles in our pocket for his phone, muttering softly as he flicks through a few apps and browsers to show me… a house listing?

So you want to buy a vacation home on the nature reserve where I was murdered? That’s weirdly cute. I try not to laugh at his frustrated little huff or his eyeroll he’s been picking up from me. I try not to cry either.

“I’m not leaving you here alone.” The tone of his voice pulls me up short. He’s not the goofy himbo I’ve been with most of the weekend in that moment. He’s not the puppy eager to please our girlfriend either. He’s something closer to the man I assume walks into corporate board rooms and owns them with ease then suplexes a tech bro, or whatever it is he does for work.

It really shouldn’t be a turn-on but what about him hasn’t been?

“We don’t know how this whole,” he gestures at all of us then the surrounding trees, “whole thing works. What if you have to stay here? What if you, I don’t know, get slowly pulled back over time? Or dissipate like a fog? Do we have to do something so you get to stay with us maybe?”

He makes that frustrated growl rumble in our chest, the one that I’ve learned says his simmering anger is finally getting the best of him, so I snuggle into his presence like I’ll never let go. If I have any choice in the matter, I won’t. He melts back into the wooden bench we’re on and takes another sip of coffee.

“I just need to have a plan and it’s not like I can’t do this. I mean, Angie might be a little pissed if I dip into my savings without telling her again, but I feel like she’d understand this time. It’s not a motorcycle or an out-of-production LEGO set. It’s important. We can both do our jobs from home. There’s a university nearby where she could work maybe.” He sighs as he tucks his phone away. “I get that it’s a cliché for people to want to live where they vacationed once,” I politely don’t mention that I’ve never known that urge, “but not everyone has the experience we’ve been having.”

Part of me jokingly wants to ask if he’s talking about the near nonstop sex, but I know that’s not what he means. He still laughs anyway and we lapse into a comfortable silence as we finish our coffee and watch the sun rise and reflect off the lake. I file it away. A second sunrise I never want to forget.