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Mike reclined down with his head resting gently on his yellowed old pillow, his back aching and legs sore from what the day had been. The tiredness was evident in his stiff body as he finally relaxed and fully laid himself down.
He pulled the covers up over his torso, wrapping himself in the light blue and white quilt his mother made many years ago for him as a child. Its wear and tear growing more noticeable with each passing day, the stains and rips over the years giving a personality to the well worn old blanket.
The room was a warm muddy dark, like the darkness within a painting with its mixed brownish black messy colour. the only light being his bedside lamp next to his bed. Its bulb giving off a warm yellow glow from underneath the slightly transparent lampshade. He reached over, his hands softly and tiredly shaking as he pulled the string and turned it off. The place now completely shadowed in the tangle of the late evening. Mike closed his heavy eyelids, the night slowly consuming him as he began to drift off to sleep, dreams following suit.
***
In his dream he looked up at the pale light beaming down from the sky, a familiar hand reaching outwards to him. Mikes hand hovering over his forehead to shade himself as he squinted his eyes. the illumination shinning to the extent it was almost blinding as it shadowed the thin undraped body in front of him.
“Mike”
A voice said to him with its sound so familiar it felt as if he’d heard it say his name countless times before. Mike raised his hand towards the figure, his shaky slender fingers reaching out to touch it. Their fingers touching and slowly beginning to intertwine gently.
The nude body coming into view as Mike watched even closer. The soft yet messy curls crowning the head and swirling at the edges of their cheeks as their face smiled, the gracile and lean physique, and those squinted and tender eyes mike was so sure he had looked into before. All these features so clear yet he still couldn’t make out who it was staring back at him.
“Mike!”
The figure spoke as their fingers fully intertwined and their feet rested against the soild ground. The touch soft and delicate as if it was a light gust of breeze. Mike stood just slightly taller than the person. They were a blur, he could just barly see them and feel them. Mike looked at them with a deep pit in his stomach, a feeling unable to be explained.
He was aware the world at which he knew wasn’t real, the two standing alone in an endless void so close to a utopia. He knew this person wasn’t anything more than a dream he’d had before.
“Mike?”
Mike untangled his hands from the figure’s, his fists falling to his side in silence. Seconds slipping by without notice before he lifted his hands back up slowly. shakily and gingerly placing his palms on their bare chest, moving his hands up to their shoulders. The unreal situation felt like nothing he could describe. As he placed his hands on their shoulders, he was finally able to throughly grasp whose face he was staring into.
…
Micky.
Micky.
Mike took one of his hands off the curly haired man’s shoulder, His palm going up and resting against Mickys cheek.
“Micky…”
Mike spoke aloud, coming out more like a whisper he didn’t bother holding back. He couldn’t take his eyes off micky, He wished for this to be real. He wanted it to be real more than anything.
The only thing to exist in this second of time was the two of them and their souls. This tranquil feeling, this place of pleasure that for now only exists here in his mind for this fleeting moment.
“Mike.”
Mike tilted his head down slightly as he leaned in closer to the other man’s presence. His mouth only meer inches away from Micky’s soft lips, the same lips he’d gazed at countless times before. the lips he’d always wanted to kiss and touch for himself.
Just as he was about to feel them against his own and finally get what he'd yearned for so long,
It was all stripped away in less than a second.
Mike woke and shot up, sweating as his heart beat fast in his chest, breathing hard as he looked around with frantic head movements. lying back down with a tired groan as he caught his breath, the shape of Micky’s lips burned hot behind his eyelids.
The other night he’d had this dream before, it always ends just before he can touch Micky.
He rested his head back down, closing his eyes once again. He already knew what he’d dream about as he drifted off back asleep.