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leaving
me as nothing more than a memory in time, in someone else’s mind,
an echo, a whisper, a ghost.
When he gets depressed, he showers me in affection. Unwanted
affection. He’s always so gentle when it comes to sex. He caresses
me and whispers he loves me, and I tell him I love him back because
he needs me to, but I never participate in the bedroom. I let him
have my body, but he can’t have my soul. My soul is broken,
shattered into tiny pieces. Fragments of my former self that faded
away when Sammy’s face did, four years ago. My thoughts go back to
Sammy. Seeing him yesterday I felt like he had brought some of the
pieces of me home with him, igniting a flame inside a body that had
been absent of any heat for a long time. I take a quick shower then
slip into a pair of black skinny jeans, and my K’s Motors work
polo. I brush my teeth, scoop my hair up into a low braid, and grab
the milk from the fridge. I noticed yesterday that Sammy had failed
to pick any up. I knock on Blaydon’s bedroom door to check he’s up
for work and I receive a grumble, “Yeah I’m up.”
    Smiling to
myself, I cut across the lawn to find Sammy’s front door unlocked.
When I walk in, I find him sitting on the couch wearing nothing but
a pair of boxer briefs. My step falters and my breath catches. My
eyes rake over his muscular physique; soaking his almost-naked form
into my memory. He’s so beautiful my heart aches thinking of how he
comforted me last night.
    “Hey,” I say,
startling him.
    He jumps up,
holding a hand over his heart. “Fuck, Twink! You gave me heart
attack! Do you know how early it is?”
    He looks to his
bare wrist and his brow twitches when he realises he isn’t wearing
a watch. I can’t help but smile, and let my eyes molest his flesh.
His boxers leave little to the imagination; they grip his hips just
below that perfect sculpted V that men have when they’ve worked
hard in the gym. His skin holds a bronzed tan, complementing his
ripped physique. God, he’s divine. His little brownish pink nipples
stand to attention on his hard, tight pecs, his six-pack tensing
with every breath he takes. I feel myself contract between my
thighs.
    He tips his
head to the side and smirks at me, his messy, dark hair falling in
his face. “Would you like me to turn around so you can ogle the
full package?”
    His voice
penetrates my ears and blood roars through my veins. I’ve totally
been caught. I could act dumb or…
    “Actually,” I
say, then reach into my pocket to pull out my cell phone. I swipe
the screen and hold it up in front of me. “That would be great, let
me get the front first, though.”
    I click the
camera and the flash sparks as I take his picture. His mouth drops
open and his eyes bulge slightly. I bite my lip and then we both
burst into a fit of laughter.
    “What’s so
funny?”
    My eyes
reluctantly leave Sammy and glance up to a yawning Jasper, who is
descending the stairs. He’s also wearing only boxer shorts. His
body is slimmer than Sammy’s. Sammy is over six feet tall, and
broad like a line-backer, whereas Jasper is slightly shorter and
trim, but ridiculously ripped. My eyes scan him quickly before
resting on his face. He is really good looking; dark hair, with
light blue eyes, like Sammy. Damn, these two together must get so
much action. “Twink was just taking pictures of me to masturbate to
later.”
    My eyes snap to
Sammy, a hot blush creeping over my skin.
    “Is that
right?” Jasper laughs and he holds his arms out. “Would you like a
real man’s pictures to fantasize about?” he strokes his hand down
his stomach. “I’ll even lose the boxers, give you the full works.”
He winks, and my cheeks feel like someone is holding a flame to
them. Sammy’s chest shakes with silent laughter in my peripheral
vision. My mind berates me not to let them see me so flustered. I
moisten my lips then narrow my eyes on Jasper’s crotch and scrunch
my nose. “Sorry, my camera doesn’t have a