Sunday Scaries

Author's note: This is a very sensual story with an extremely gentle, female-led encounter. If you are turned off by stories with sensitive, vulnerable men, this is really not gonna be your thing.

This is for everyone who feels a kind of loneliness that can come only from our connected, modern world, and for everyone who has trouble turning off the thoughts they'd rather not have -- especially on a certain night of the week. I see you (:

Thank you to thatsbogus for reading over my work even at short notice. All characters are over 18.

~~~

Hayden stared nervously at the door. That was the way he did everything, but, especially tonight, the anxiety tumbling around inside him was louder than usual.

He never really understood why. There was nothing different about tomorrow. Nothing special to fear, nothing special to have to prepare himself for -- mentally or otherwise.

Maybe it was the quiet. Every other night of the week, he wished he had earplugs to help muffle the bass from the neighbors down the street, or the college kids living life to the loudest at the apartment complex across the way, or the trucks rumbling past on the highway outside his front door.

Now, it was deadly still.

Daytime was spent immersed in artificial voices -- the television, an online call with a friend, a Spotify playlist or an audiobook while doing chores.

But eventually, time seemed to slow, the activity would follow suit, and then...

Silence.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

The noise gave him a start, even though he'd been expecting it. He wanted to smile, but there really wasn't anything to smile about. This was nothing to be proud of.

Uneasiness and relief washed over him in one, mixed-up wave when he swung open the door. That was how she always made him feel. At least when she first arrived.

Taylor wasn't her real name. He knew that. The warm grin that lit up her face every time he opened the door -- probably nothing was real about that either. Except maybe her glee at seeing such an easy mark yet again.

She was a little shorter than him and fit, although it wasn't obvious in her shirt and baggy pants. He always wanted her to come wearing something comfortable, something she would wear when she wasn't on the job -- when she was just herself. He had no idea if that's what she was really doing, or if she just knew what someone like him would expect to see.

Those were the kinds of thoughts, though, he was trying to expel.

"Hey," he said quietly, stepping aside to let her in. He caught a whiff of her lavender scent as she walked past him, toting the canvas bag she always brought with her.

He closed the door and turned to her so she could reach for him, like she always did -- a gentle hand on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, her cool fingers delicately stroking the stubble of his jaw.

They'd been through this so many times, maybe he shouldn't have felt embarrassed still about the way he so obviously craved that touch. But every time the warmth of her palm softly rested against his cheek, he couldn't help the shame of self-awareness from burning even hotter.

Hayden realized he must've closed his eyes, because when he opened them, she was closer, her deep blue eyes staring into his.

There was always a sadness behind the kindness in her eyes. He liked that about her. He couldn't relate to people who didn't have sadness in their eyes, couldn't trust them. The few people he interacted with during a given week -- an annoying coworker or two at the office, a pizza delivery person, maybe a cashier -- rarely got close enough or stayed still long enough for him to see what was in their eyes.

Like so much else, he wasn't sure if what he saw in Taylor's was really there, either -- the kindness or the sadness. But again, he was willing to believe in the façade, if that's what it was. For now, at least.

"Hey, Hayden," she said just as quietly as he had, the smile only getting warmer, more welcoming. It certainly seemed like the sigh behind her greeting was genuine relief. He hoped it was. He wanted her to be able to let her hair down here, to be herself in the same way he was during their rendezvous.

He smiled back sheepishly, feeling the blush where her fingertips slowly slid off his cheek.

"Looks nice," she said, glancing around casually. "You cleaned up a little bit, huh?"

"Err... yeah." He felt himself blush even deeper. "Guess it must've been a little cluttered if it's that noticeable, huh."

She snorted. "Eh, believe me. I've seen worse. In my own living room sometimes even." She made a little face that made his smile deepen, then gestured to the stairs. "Shall we?"

Hayden led the way and ducked into the bathroom to start the shower while Taylor put her stuff down in his bedroom across the hall. She never made a point of looking at it, but the cash was on the nightstand -- the best way to tip her if he really wanted to, she'd told him a while ago, when she hadn't known her way around his house like it was her weekend home.

Taylor let her dark blonde hair fall from the ponytail first while he unabashedly watched her strip. She did it slowly, removing her top to expose her perky handfuls of breasts. She knew what he liked, and his eyes were glued to her long, slender legs as she slipped out of her pants just as deliberately.

"Big day tomorrow?" she asked as she slid her panties down, revealing her perfectly smooth mound and the hint of the outline of her labia showing in the gap between her slim thighs.

He was halfway to naked himself, removing his own pants when she began to help him finish the job.

"Not really," he responded with a shrug as she tugged down his underwear.

They both walked naked to the shower without needing to exchange a word, the steady shhhh enveloping them behind the sliding glass door.

He loved the feeling in here, encased in a cocoon of white noise and heat that shut out the oppressive silence outside.

The hot water poured over both of them, and he made no bones of admiring her gleaming body.

"So what's the latest at work?" Taylor said casually, as if they were old friends. She dunked her head under the spray, letting her hair spill over her face before tossing it back.

He shrugged. "Not much."

She squirted some liquid soap onto her hands and started to gently rub through the hair on his chest, down his stomach.

"Come onnn, you have to have something going on," she said with a smirk as her hands roamed lower, down his thighs. She crouched her young, lithe body in front of him, the water pouring down his head and onto her.

Hayden didn't really have much to say. He was an uninteresting person, in an uninteresting job, living an uninteresting life. Doubly so to someone like her, he was sure.

"Umm, you remember Chuck?" he said.

She nodded as she stood back up and had him turn around, starting on his back as meticulously as she'd done his front.

"Yeahhh he's... the ice chewer!" She sounded gleeful that she'd remembered. "Right?"

"Uhh, yeah. He is actually." Hayden gave a little laugh.

"What? Why do you sound surprised?"

He shrugged again, zeroing in on every gentle press of her hands on his skin even as he spoke.

"I dunno, I guess I'm just always surprised you remember anything about me at all," he said, getting quieter as he went. He hadn't intended to sound so... pathetic.

"Why wouldn't I?" Taylor's voice was in his ear now, even quieter than his had been. He felt her hands wrap around him from behind and she kissed his neck in a way that felt dangerously affectionate.

Hayden didn't respond out loud, just sighed and let the subject drop. She knew him well enough by now to know the answer anyway.

Instead, her hands drifted along his torso aimlessly. She knew how much he enjoyed feeling any part of her against him. She'd probably pegged him as that type immediately -- probably knew exactly how to treat him. There was probably a whole script to it.

But he could only care so much.

The warm water was the only thing separating them, her smooth body pressed to him from behind, gently sliding in the mist as she kissed her way softly down his neck. He let himself relax, feeling some of the tension in him dissipate while she held him. Taylor must've been 20 years younger than him, maybe more. But it never seemed that way.

"So what about Chuck?" she said into his ear, her voice as soothing as her touch.

"Oh yeah. We're just working on a presentation for a client next month." He groaned. "I don't know what I'd do if I had to be in the office more than once a week. He constantly comes over just to chat about nothing and chew ice, I swear."

She laughed and one of her hands found its way between his legs. He was starting to relax enough that her fingers could entice some blood to flow there instead.

"Maybe he just likes hanging out with you," she said. "You're a good listener."

That was something she said to everyone. All the little details she'd sprinkled into their conversations were undoubtedly just as practiced, just as carefully designed to give him the experience he was looking for.

Taylor's fingers fondled his cock almost absent-mindedly while she held him at the back of the shower, letting the spray wash over both their faces. His eyes were closed while she touched him, concentrating on every sensation of the moment: her breasts pressed into him, her leg around his, the silky sway of her stomach against his back -- every inch of her was so smooth, her fingers so gentle, her grip around his torso so firm, so inviting.

All without any kind of hesitation that could indicate this was something she didn't want to do, didn't enjoy doing. And no sign she thought he should be embarrassed or ashamed that he felt such an overwhelming combination of cared for and turned on in her arms.

"How about you?" he said through a sigh that relaxed him even more, melting further into her embrace while she played with his gradually responding dick. It wasn't very big, not by anyone's standard, but certainly not by what hers must've been. Still, she'd never said anything about it, never seemed to take notice of it. Not where he could see or hear, anyway.

"Ehhh." Her tone changed, though her body language didn't. "My sister's coming next week to stay with me for a few days."

Hayden wasn't sure what he was supposed to take from that.

"Are you guys close?"

He felt her shake her head against his shoulder.

"Nooo, not at all. She's like 10 years older than me, has a few kids. Doesn't... approve of my life choices. Not really sure why she's coming. She said we 'don't see each other enough,' but...'" Taylor shrugged against him and he felt a sigh course through her. "Not really looking forward to it, honestly. Can't be good, whatever it is."

Hayden turned in her arms, blocking the water with his back. His cock responded to the direct contact with her slick thigh and pulsed at being trapped against her stomach. He ignored that and focused on her eyes, smiling encouragingly while her hands readjusted to pull him closer by the small of his back.

"Maybe you're just a good listener," he said, and she smiled wider at him, letting him take a nipple into his mouth.

Taylor exhaled deeply, almost contentedly, as he sucked, lightly swirling his tongue, and she let him continue for a little while before running her hand through his hair.

"Come on," she said gently. "Time to shampoo before it gets cold."

She reached for the shampoo, and he rested his head over her shoulder, his body pressing against her as she held him.

Taylor didn't say anything while her long fingers spread the shampoo through his hair. In the quiet shhhh of the shower, her touch, like always, was soft, methodical, caring.

Hunched down against her, he kept his eyes closed, his arms wrapped loosely around her smaller body. She had to reach back to work the shampoo into his scalp -- slowly, tenderly, letting him feel every movement of her fingertips. His favorite was when she would wipe through the mop of his hair with her palm, almost like she was petting a dog that had done something to please her somehow.

Hayden had long since stopped trying to figure out what he found so intimate about the shampoo routine in particular -- so calming and arousing at the same time. Frankly, it wasn't an answer he really wanted.

That didn't mean he'd stopped feeling ashamed and embarrassed about it, though. What kind of man got off on this kind of thing? How pathetic would someone have to be to pay for it?

Luckily, he'd never done anything with his life that would've made it worth it for Taylor to tell anyone the kinds of pathetic things he asked her to do. The only people who could judge him were in the shower. And he'd judge plenty.

Later.

Taylor always slowly moved, slowly swayed their bodies back and forth -- as if to the rhythm of a song he couldn't hear. Sometimes he thought maybe he could make out some humming, just under the steady spray.

"You like this, don't you," she said, so gently her voice was like a song itself. It seemed... mesmerizing, not judgmental. Never judgmental. Not even as his cock rose against her thigh with every rake of her fingers through his hair.

One of her hands wrapped around his waist, the other still leisurely running across his dark brown thickets, the shampoo long since washed out.

"It's okay," she said. She kissed his head as softly as she was speaking -- a long, quiet kiss that left her lips lingering on his wet hair. He felt his erection twitch even harder. "I do too, honestly."

She slowly slid her stomach against his trapped, swollen cock. "Really," she whispered with another kiss of his head nestled into the crook of her shoulder -- like he was a scared child instead of a pitiful excuse for a middle-aged man. She could probably sense he didn't believe her.

Still, he couldn't help but nuzzle into her neck, pressing himself against her and increasing the pressure on his cock between them. With every soothing touch of her fingers and body, he got harder and harder.

"I like the way I make you feel." It almost seemed like she wasn't even speaking to him anymore. Maybe just explaining something out loud. "You like to feel... connected, don't you." Again, it didn't seem like a question.

He clutched her tighter as she lightly ground against him at a quicker pace.

When she spoke again, it was even more quietly, barely above a whisper, directly into his ear. And this time, there was no mistaking whom she was talking to. "You just get kinda lonely here, not going out much, working at home. Hmm?"

She pet his head again and he had to shuffle his lower half away from her to make room for his erection, letting it pop free and poke at her stomach.

"You just want to feel someone else. To be seen. To confirm you exist."

Hayden gasped at her hand touching his stiff cock, her fingers gently playing with the head. He clasped at her back and she helped steady him with her other hand on his neck while his face dug into her chest.

"Shh," she said softly, stroking him steadily. Everything about her was soft and steady. "Cum for me Hayden." Her fingertips tickled at his neck, an affectionate graze that pushed him over the edge.

He groaned and bucked into her hand, pressing against the softness of her slim thigh.

"Yeah, let it out. Shh. Let it out Hayden," she whispered into his ear while he pulsed against her skin, grunting into her shoulder.

Her dexterous fingers kept moving along his cock, milking the last of him onto her thigh, drizzling down her leg. She kissed the side of his neck as long and tenderly as she had his hair.

"I like that," she said in that mesmerizing voice. "Every time I like it, how I can feel every muscle in you relaxing with me."

There might've been a tear on his cheek, or it might've been water.

"You have to say that," he said weakly, barely vibrating her collarbone. He felt her fingers caressing his neck.

"No I don't," she said after a beat, maybe offended, but it was hard to tell through the gentleness of her voice. "You know I don't. I don't lie to you, Hayden."

He wasn't sure how long they stood there while he recovered, her arms around him, her hands slowly moving over his body, letting him feel that she was still there -- still holding him in her silent sway.

Eventually the water turned cold and they got out. With the shower off, an even starker quiet than before greeted them -- seeming to close in around them, filling the space and then some.

Taylor dried him off, taking her time with the soft towel on his skin, and she let him return the favor. His work was just as methodical.

"I never could've been with a woman like you when I was your age," he muttered while he knelt, his hands and gaze lingering while he dried her long, shimmering legs.

"Not with that attitude," she responded with a smirk.

He felt his face fall in agreement. "Yeah." It was hard to have any other attitude. "Sorry... sorry I'm such a downer. I'm not like this all the time, I swear," he said, forcing a chuckle, trying to lighten things. It was true, he didn't spend every moment of every day trapped in his own thoughts. Just... certain nights.

When he finished, she stopped him from turning away, stepping one of those long, limber legs between his. Taylor cupped his cheek again, her fingers gently massaging his stubble.

"Hayden," she said in a low, earnest voice, barely louder than the air conditioner that kicked on. She leaned in closer, an inch from his face, maybe just to make sure he couldn't look away. "You're not a downer. Not to me."

For a frightful second, her lips were so close to his that he let himself think she might kiss him. His brain fought the ridiculous notion as the second of still silence stretched into two, then three of her deep blue eyes boring into his -- more kind than sad.

She was just good at her job. Very good. That was all.

Finally, she let the moment end, the corners of her mouth twitching up into a slight smile.

In the bedroom, she lay back on top of the covers, both of them still naked. Hayden couldn't help but take another moment to drink in her body, her legs spread to reveal the glistening, warm pussy beckoning to him.

The first few times, she'd been very hesitant to let him eat her out. But he'd convinced her that it was his time to do with what he pleased -- and what pleased him was pleasing her. Taylor knew him well enough now to understand that wasn't anything close to a lie.

He moaned at her taste, the warmth of her thigh on his cheek. Her fingers gently encouraged him, running through his hair again, helping him find the perfect spot for his tongue.

His own fingers rubbed soft circles above her clit while he licked at her, getting reacquainted with her taste.

It wasn't something he'd had a lot of experience doing, certainly not since he was her age -- or maybe younger. There just weren't a lot of opportunities for a single man his age... especially one who rarely left the safe, confining routines of his living room, the office, and occasionally the grocery store -- to pick up an online order, of course.

But she'd been patient, helping him learn her body: the way he could feel her relax as he fell into just the right pace with his fingers, just the right rhythm with his tongue teasing her clit -- he liked to believe that wasn't something even she could fake.

He could sense every sinew in her tightening as he gently sucked on the throbbing knob of her clit, and the heavy breath that escaped her excited him in a way receiving his own pleasure never could. There was something about making someone else feel... something... that filled a spot inside him he hadn't known was empty before.

Taylor was close, he could recognize the signs -- the tightness of her grip on his head, the way her body squirmed beneath him. But the giveaway was the twitching in her leg, the way it seemed to shake, like it was trying to scream out even though it didn't have a voice.

Hayden moaned into her pussy again, delighting in her taste, her scent, in her. He could feel he was just as hard as he'd been in the shower, turned on by connecting with the most beautiful woman who'd ever been in his bed. The reason she was there didn't matter. Not right now.

Her fingers grabbed at his head, tugging him up, and he locked eyes with her, looking up the silky skin of her body between the perky swells of her breasts. She smiled at him -- not a wide grin, but a subtle smile to match the volume of every word they seemed to speak to each other. It complemented her flushed cheeks in a way that made her seem to shine, maybe even glow.

Taylor helped him up further and bent down, pulling him by the arms so his dangling cock grazed the warm skin of her thigh.

"Come on," she said. "Cum with me this time."

Her fingers reached for his cock, stroking him once but not risking anything more. She gave him a gentle pull, trying to guide him between her legs.

Hayden felt the swirling emotions show themselves on his face, looking down at those kind, sad blue eyes beneath him. This wasn't part of their routine. He wouldn't have been able to afford it if it had been. Maybe once in a while, but definitely not every time.

He searched her eyes, trying to figure out if this was just some upsell. He was ready for the answer to be yes, ready to be hurt. Almost wanted to be. That would've been territory he'd navigated before, something familiar, at least.

Taylor's hand rose to his cheek instead, caressing him, and he leaned into it again, his eyelids fluttering shut at the gentle touch in such an intense moment.

"Let's call it a... loyalty rewards program, okay?" she said quietly.

Opening his eyes again, she still had that subtle smile, trying to reassure him.

He could feel the tip of his cock at her opening, mixing his precum with her wetness already. Taylor's other hand slid down to help him, and he took a deep breath as she guided him inside, her thumb still caressing his cheek.

Hayden couldn't stop a deep, guttural groan as he pushed inside her, Taylor's warm pussy enveloping his aching cock.

"Oh my god," he mumbled, his arms wobbling on the bed. He gave in, thrusting himself all the way inside and collapsing onto her body. Her arms wrapped around his back and her legs pulled him tighter as she let loose a moan of her own into his ear.

Taylor grasped him tightly while he started thrusting in rhythm, his face buried and tucked into her shoulder. Her legs helped him go as deep inside as he could manage, though he knew it wasn't that deep. But the only noises she made seemed to be encouraging, like she was getting something from this after all. From him.

He chased the feeling, even if it was probably all an act. He didn't really care. Didn't want to care right now. He just wanted to immerse himself in the moment, in her arms closing around his back, in her legs squeezing him tight, in her warm breath gasping into his ear, in the intoxicating scent of her body -- in the indescribable feeling of plunging into Taylor's eager pussy.

"Ahhhhh," she sighed into his ear, an excited whisper. "I needed this so much, yessss Hayyyyydennn."

His eyes snapped open and he felt his pace flag. A voice inside himself begged him to just keep going, to take the moment for what it was -- to stop fucking up everything in the way he always did.

But the other part of him, the part that ruled from the dark corners of his mind, wondered how many other guys she'd measured up just like him, how many other men she knew well enough to understand exactly where their buttons were, how many other clients she could fool into thinking they were special.

He wasn't special. That he was sure of. No one needed him or anything he was capable of giving.

"I... I know... just..." Hayden wasn't sure what he wanted to say. It was too late now anyway. He'd ruined whatever moment there had been, the one she'd gone through so much trouble to manufacture for him -- to act like it was real just for him. That was a sort of kindness, too, wasn't it?

His eyes flicked back to hers -- the kind, the sad, the blue. They were all puzzled now, maybe even concerned.

Taylor raised a hand to his cheek again. It always helped center him, that connection that came with her soothing palm on his face.

He moved his own hand on top of hers, clutching it there on his cheek, and his eyes shut of their own accord, taking snapshots of the feeling in case this was the last time. He didn't want to forget the warmth, the way it felt when someone touched him like... like they cared.

"What's wrong?" Taylor said gently.

"You... you know what I wanna hear," he said without opening his eyes. He felt ashamed enough without having to witness her expression. "I just... have trouble sometimes separating that from... I'm... I'm sorry."

He pulled out of her, his cock still rigid and coated in Taylor's juices, protesting at the exposure to the cool air.

Hayden rolled over onto his back, covering his face.

Of all the pathetic things he'd done, this was the most pathetic. He'd been inside her. She'd been telling him all the things he'd yearned to hear. Why couldn't he just pretend? Why was this a bridge too far for the play-acting he was happy to enable -- to pay for -- all the countless other times?

He didn't have any answers. He just knew he wouldn't be able to enjoy the fleeting moments of relief like this again. Not with her, anyway. She'd seen so much of his shameful, pitiful self. But this was a new low.

Taylor's hand stroked his arm softly, gently trying to get him to do the thing he least wanted to do: uncover his face.

When he didn't, he felt her lips on his forearm, her kisses lightly tracing toward his knuckles. Her hand slid through the hair on his chest, and he fought the urge to be soothed by all the familiar sensations. He didn't want to be. He just wanted to be alone now. Where no one could see him. Where he didn't have to be seen. Not like this.

Her hand continued to caress him calmly, caringly. As if he weren't... what he was. Or what he wasn't.

"Hayden," she said, just above a whisper in that kind tone she'd perfected for him. "Look at me. Come on. It's okay."

His arm trembled a bit as he let Taylor slowly remove it. He could feel an undropped tear at the bottom of his vision still -- a monument to all the thoughts he preferred not to think, and were there anyway.

But she didn't look at him like she should have. There were those blue eyes staring down into his -- unchanged, reflecting none of the judgment that filled him.

Taylor moved her hand to the spot on his cheek where it seemed like her palm was so at home, oozing the kindness he paid her to show.

"I don't lie to you," she said. "Okay? Not even in the heat of the moment." She wasn't smiling, wasn't trying to convince him of anything. Just telling him facts.

His cock, oblivious to his feelings, responded as she dragged her leg across his body, straddling him while she kissed his neck warmly. He couldn't stop a shuddering whimper from escaping at the sensation of her patient, attentive tongue on his skin, of her body sliding against him like they were still dancing to silence in the shower.

Taylor carefully guided him inside her again, exhaling another sigh of hot breath into his ear as she reached his base. He could feel her flexing along his cock, pantomiming the eagerness he wanted to let himself feel -- that he couldn't stop himself from feeling.

"I want this," she whispered into his ear, as if trying to allay the internal protests he couldn't quiet.

She pulled his neck up and held him in her arms while she rocked against him in rhythm with the moans picking up speed from deep in her throat. His arms wrapped around her loosely, almost like they were afraid that holding on tight would only make her disappear.

At the feeling of her squeezing his cock, her whispers against his ear, the sound of her excited breaths -- he couldn't pretend anymore. He couldn't pretend he didn't deeply want this, too, didn't want to surrender himself to the moment, to how she made him feel -- to the insidious idea that maybe there was someone who did care he existed.

And that she was with him in his bed.

Hayden loosed a loud groan, unleashing all those dangerous feelings he couldn't keep a lid on any longer, the tears carrying them down his cheek as his hands gripped at her smooth, arching back.

Taylor embraced him tightly, pressing her breasts to him as she picked up her pace. The moan of pleasure into his ear stirred him in a way he hadn't let himself feel in years, and he kissed along her neck with all the passion he could muster.

"I'm here," she whispered around a moan into his ear.

They were both so close now, he could feel it in the way her muscles tensed in her body.

"I feel you," she whispered with a calmness that belied how quickly she was pumping him now, bringing them both to the brink.

As she swiveled on his cock, Taylor peeled herself back so he could look into her sad blue eyes.

"I see you, Hayden. I promise."

At least in the moment, Hayden believed her, pulling her close as he thrust inside her. She held him while he bucked into her inviting pussy; he could feel the tremors inside her reverberate as she grasped at his back in turn.

The warmth flooded through him -- and out of him in hot jets. For the first time in so long, he felt... a connection to someone else, an anchor to the world he could otherwise barely get to acknowledge he'd been a part of it.

Groaning louder with every spasm, he released into her everything he hadn't wanted to admit even in his own mind -- ignoring the tears accompanying the overwhelming relief that came from her touch, from feeling cared for, from feeling wanted by another human being.

"Yesssss, ahhhh, Hayyyydeennn," Taylor hissed through gritted teeth.

She clawed at him while her body shook in orgasm on top of his. The shivers running through her body couldn't be faked, he told himself, and he unleashed another round into her quaking pussy before they both were finally spent.

And the crushing silence returned.

The cool streak of a tear marred his burning cheeks as Taylor rested on top of him, the scent of her hair in his nostrils -- the rest of her in his arms.

With both hands, he kept hold of her, not wanting to let go, to let the night march on, to reset back to where he'd been before she'd arrived. Where he always went after she left.

Taylor's hand gently stroked his chest, maybe still on autopilot.

The air conditioner wasn't even on to compete with the dominating stillness.

"I hate Sundays." Her voice, barely audible over the suffocating quiet, dripped with the sadness that before had been confined to the recesses of her deep blue eyes. He wanted to hold her closer. "I don't really know why. Weekends don't really even matter for me that much."

She paused. "I guess everything's just too quiet. Like everyone and everything is just... taking a deep breath. Nothing to... to listen to but my own thoughts. You know?"

There were few feelings he understood better.

She lifted her head, looking down at him. She must've spotted the tear because she raised her palm to that place on his cheek where it belonged, and he leaned into her touch again, so instinctively he couldn't have stopped himself if he'd wanted to.

Her thumb wiped away the tear while her eyes burrowed into his, like they were looking for something. Whatever it was, he so desperately wanted her to find it in his gaze.

But his eyes flicked to the clock on the nightstand. They both knew her time was up. Or maybe it was his, since he was the one who'd paid for it.

Taylor sighed, bathing his mouth in her warm breath. He could almost feel her nose against his.

"I don't want to get up," she mumbled.

He didn't want her to either.

"I... don't think I could afford a whole night," he said, darting his eyes away. He wished he could. Even for just one night, to feel this until morning... He blinked back another tear before it could come out. Why couldn't he just take the moments as they came?

Her eyes seemed to struggle with something more than just the sadness and kindness. He thought he could even see the beginnings of a glassy tear.

"Would you want me to? If... if you could?"

He couldn't tell if the look in her eyes was practiced, or if she was really as uncertain as her expression would have him believe. Was she testing him? Trying to set him up for a payout he couldn't afford? She wouldn't do that. Would she?

Hayden felt so vulnerable, so exposed in front of her. Taylor knew all his weaknesses better than anyone.

He nodded his head anyway, short and hesitant. "Yeah." It was the truth, and he didn't have the resolve to tell anything else. Even if the truth always hurt more than lies.

Relief seemed to flood Taylor's face, even if her expression barely changed -- just a subtle twitch at the corners of her lips.

"Then... I don't want you to pay me anything."

Taylor's lips grazed his with every word, and she lowered herself haltingly -- agonizingly slowly -- the remaining fraction of an inch until their lips met, like she was unsure if they would be welcome on his.

Hayden surrendered to the feeling of her soft lips, her tongue guiding him as gently as her touch on his cheek. He hadn't been kissed in years. He'd long ago given up even thinking about what it might be like to be kissed again.

As the hesitation melted away from both of them, he ignored another tear falling, focused on the kiss he'd craved so deeply that he'd never let himself even imagine it before now.

When their lips finally separated, they didn't have to look into each other's eyes, didn't have to say a word. She just hugged him tightly, her naked body in his arms and holding him while she raked her fingers slowly through his hair.

"Hayden," she said in that voice barely above a whisper, "I lied to you."

A chill ran through him and he froze before she continued.

"It's gonna cost you breakfast."

He could feel the smile on her lips as she kissed his ear with the kind of affection he'd longed to believe was real.

And he felt something new he never thought he'd feel again.

In the all-consuming silence of a Sunday night, Hayden grinned.

~~~

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you found something to help calm your own Sunday night, whatever, wherever, and whenever it may be (:

Arcadia