Chapter Text
Your relationship, if you could call it that, had started a couple of weeks ago. It had been the stereotypical scenario: A lonely night, a few drinks, and a handsome stranger across the bar. His piercing blue eyes locking onto yours, looking you over as if already undressing you in his mind.
Before you knew it, you had found yourself next to him, next to Brandon as his name turned out to be. You had naturally started flirting with each other, growing more and more shameless as time went on.
The fire of attraction between you had been undeniable, and eventually, the night had ended in a passionate encounter in his hotel room. His mouth devouring your lips, then moving down to suck on your neck, hungry, desperate. Clothes discarded swiftly and carelessly, like you could no longer stand having anything between your bare bodies.
You remembered him throwing you back onto the bed, your back hitting the cool sheets as he immediately climbed on top of you, his hands moving to remove the last piece of underwear you had on. His breathing had been ragged, his eyes blazing with desire, making you feel almost intimidated of his hunger for you.
By the time he was inside you, his thrusts had been sharp and fast, leaving you trembling and spent by the time he was done. It had been one of the most heated nights of your life, and at first you had thought it would remain just one. But that was not the case. You had stayed in contact afterwards, seeing each other casually and hooking up whenever you felt like it.
The lack of commitment was not a big problem for you and perhaps it was even what you needed after you had just left a long-term relationship not too long ago. Brandon didn’t seem to be the relationship type either, his longest one having lasted only four months, as he had once told you.
You were not sure if you were falling in love with him. You probably shouldn’t, anyway. He was supposed to be just a fun distraction from your worries, nothing more and nothing less. And he most likely saw you the same way.
While sometimes there were some very small hints that he might be catching some feelings, most of the time his energy towards you was still the same as in that first night. Playful, flirty, but at the same time… detached. Objectifying, even.
Despite your intimacy being intensely physically pleasurable, you had noticed a few things about his behavior that felt… off.
The way he sometimes refused to meet your gaze, as if fearing what you’d see if he did. The way his actions could feel like he was following some invisible script in his mind that had nothing to do with you. His hands and mouth knew exactly what to do, where to tease and where to bite, yet you sometimes got the impression he was not really there with you. That you were just a means to an end, to fill some void he had inside himself.
At first, you had brushed it off as nothing. He usually kept his inner world very private and it was not your place to dig deep, since you weren’t too close on a personal level. But on the other hand, exactly that part about him intrigued you. You wondered what was going on with him when you weren’t around.
Every time you had subtly tried to get through to him somehow, he had casually changed the topic or just started kissing you to silence you, clearly wanting to keep his guard up.
But tonight, you decided you weren’t going to let him off that easy.
This time, you were meeting up in his apartment. A simple text from him had settled it – “Wanna come over?” –, both of you knowing what he intended for you to come over for.
Brandon greeted you at the door with a cheeky smile, wearing a casual white shirt that clung to his lean frame just right and a pair of grey sweatpants. A few strands were sticking out of his usually neatly combed back hair. But even like this, in a less put-together look than on that first night in the bar, you still found him effortlessly handsome.
“Hey,” he said, giving you a little nod. “I’ve got something for us. Come in.”
He stepped aside so you could enter, and you did, feeling his eyes on you as he closed the door and followed you to the living room. A bottle of wine was on the small glass table beside his couch, along with two wine glasses.
“Getting romantic now, huh?” you asked teasingly.
Brandon approached behind you, gently resting his hands on your hips. “Figured you’d like it,” he whispered, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his breath, before pressing a kiss to the crook of your neck.
You both sat down on the couch and he poured the glass for you, the veins in his forearms flexing as he tilted the bottle. He handed it to you, then poured one for himself, his eyes meeting yours as that crooked grin appeared on his lips again.
“Cheers to us,” he said, raising the glass for a small toast.
“Cheers to us,” you echoed, your glasses meeting with a clink. As you took the first sip, you started to wonder how successful your attempt at getting him to open himself up to you tonight would be, since you already felt yourself getting so distracted by his charm and the faint scent of cologne he must have put on shortly before you arrived.
Don’t stare too much. Stay in control just a little longer, you told yourself.
You glanced over at Brandon. To your surprise, his eyes were not on you anymore. His gaze drifted across the room, not really fixed on anything, seeming lost in thought. As the light from outside caught his eyes, you could see it clearly: Something had to be troubling him.
“Brandon? What’s the matter?” you asked.
He set his glass down on the table, his eyes flicking to you. As he slowly leaned back on the couch again, the pensive look on his face vanished, replaced by the usual seductive grin.
“Nothing, baby,” he answered casually. “Come here.”
Before you could protest, he grabbed your hips and pulled you on top of him in a swift motion. Immediately his lips were on yours, capturing them in a passionate kiss. You could taste the wine lingering on his lips, sharp and rich, making you open your mouth to him without thinking.
How easy it could have been to just get lost in him and let things unfold the way they usually did.
“Brandon…” you murmured as you pulled away, seeing the desire already burn in his eyes. “I can tell something’s up. You can tell me.”
You saw his jaw clench, his body tensing slightly under you. You could feel how badly he wanted to just deflect and make you forget about it again.
“Don’t start,” he warned, his voice sharp.
“I need to know. What is it you’re not telling me?” you pressed again.
He let out a short, hollow laugh. “You don’t want to know me, baby. Not all of me.”
“I do,” you insisted. “Please.”
You could sense it. He was so close to letting the mask slip, so close to breaking down his defenses now that he knew you wouldn’t budge.
“You don’t understand. You wouldn’t see me the same way. You would hate me.”
You shook your head. “I won’t. Try me.”
For a moment, there was silence. He took a deep breath, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for escape, apparently internally debating whether to throw you out or… finally let you in.
“You want to know what’s up? Fine. I’ll show you.”
Suddenly, he shoved you off of him almost aggressively, standing up to stride towards his bedroom. You followed him, still a bit in shock at being handled so roughly, but curious as well as nervous about what he was going to reveal.
You entered his neatly kept bedroom, your pulse hammering. Brandon knelt next to his bed, reaching underneath and fishing something out. It was a stack of magazines, slammed onto the bed, and that wasn’t all. He pulled out more and more, magazines, DVDs, clippings, and dropped it all on the mattress.
At the end, it was one big pile of obscene images, naked flesh and explicit titles spread out in front of you. Brandon stood next to you, his arms crossed, face turned away from you.
“This is it. This is what I am.”
Your heart broke at the shame and embarrassment in his voice. Now you knew what he had been hiding, and things started to make sense in your mind. His lack of affection during sex, the way he sometimes seemed to see you as nothing more than a body, the compulsion and desperate need he always initiated intimacy with… This was the reason.
Another question popped up in your mind. Were you the only one? Or had he been with other women during the weeks you had known him, chasing more of the high?
You decided not to ask that question now, as you were not even sure you wanted to know. Instead, you slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, both to ground yourself and to take a better look at what he had just revealed.
Some of the magazines looked fairly new, others worn and bent from use. You slowly reached out to flip through one of them, the provocative images making your stomach twist. You could tell this hadn’t started just yesterday. It was a collection that must have been built up over years and years.
Brandon stood there rigid, still not bearing to look at you. You picked up a cracked DVD case next, the cover lurid, with a title you couldn’t even bring yourself to read aloud. You glanced up at him, seeing his tight jaw and the tension in his shoulders.
“I’ve seen all of it,” he muttered with a tremble in his voice. “A thousand times over. And it never… it never fixes it. It only makes it worse.”
You set the DVD down, exhaling shakily. “Jesus, Brandon…”
“Yeah, go on. Say it. Disgusting.”
“No,” you said quickly. “It’s just… I didn’t expect it.”
He huffed. “Now you know. I’m a fucking mess. You should leave right now.”
“I’m not going to.”
You slowly got up from the bed and crossed the small distance between you. He looked up from the floor, meeting your gaze at last. There was so much pain in his eyes and you could tell he wanted to look away, but this time he didn’t. With his addiction laid bare in front of you, he finally allowed himself to be vulnerable.
“You still want me?” he asked, his voice rough with emotion.
“Of course,” you whispered, bringing one hand up to gently cup his jaw and run your fingers over the sharp line.
You didn’t have all the answers – not yet. The emotional whirlwind inside of you was still a bit too overwhelming to figure out how you were now going to deal with this situation. But you did know you were not going to leave him for this.
You stepped a bit closer, letting your arm slide around his back. Slowly, you lowered your head to rest your cheek against his shoulder. You felt the tension in him ease a bit, his arms brushing your sides as his hands came to a rest on your lower back. For a long moment, you just stayed like this.
Whatever came next, you both knew, would be the start of something different. Perhaps, finally, something… real.