Chapter 9: A Hot Night

“Fucking Hell.”

It still hurt like Hell on and over my chest.

Feeling where it had attacked me, I was already starting to feel the hand marks tumefy from it burning me. I’d stopped touching there the instant I felt how stiff and perked out I’d become from its earlier molestation and later agonizing aggravation.

Dried off -- naturally with a towel this time -- I had gone to my room and dressed for night a bit early. I’d said what I meant earlier. I fully intended to get some sleep since last night was a bust and I just wanted today to end.

Being tender at the moment, I threw a softer green shirt on that I had in my drawer’s collection. What I wore wouldn’t be irritating me as much as if its fabric was rougher like some of my other shirts’ material. I didn’t have any PJ bottoms, but if I was going to be haunted by this thing for the rest of my life, I might want to invest in some. For now, I settled for boxers with a flat-banded waist tie and a useful pair of pockets.

Sitting on my bed, I read over the instructions of the first prescription. These pills were to fight my infection from within.

The second prescription was designed to be dropped in my ears and gradually help the recovery along in the ear canal by killing off anything pesky that could grow in there.

The last prescription was meant for my outer ears. Some kind of lotion that would help the inflamed outer region.

“I didn’t notice any swelling?” As I said that, I looked around for my cell.

That reminded me of my plan for seeing my eyes. But first, these ears. I grabbed my cell and aimed it above at an angle. Flipping through the options, I gave it a squeeze, and took a selfie.

Zooming in on the photo, I got a look at myself and had an idea of what the doctor might have meant about my ears. I felt along the top edge and could tell there was an edged tip to them. Like I had burned only that part of my ear and it had risen in full view for me to show it.

“Elf in me, huh?” I remembered what that doctor said about me and more. “Windbag.”

That out of the way, I slid to an app that could give me a better lighting on the photo. After a few seconds, I displayed myself and started to play with the shades of light until I found what I was looking for.

“What did he mean by contacts?” I played with a few of the settings to see what he saw. I needed to shine light in my eyes. The only way I knew how to do that without blinding myself was by photo.

And after fiddling with my cell for a minute, I thought I managed to figure it out. It enhanced the colors that were naturally saturated in the photo.

My eyes were red.

I stared at my cell for awhile, not believing what I was seeing for another minute, and tried to alter the lighting to be sure. It was possible that the photo had just given me those red eyes…

“Not in that color.” I reversed back to default and saw my eyes as they were now.

Deep and dark to a blackness with only the smallest trace of red giving them the illusion of being brown. I thought of the cliche, ’Blood red?’ But it was darker than that. I could see the only resemblance to this color’s shade from the fleeting time of twilight. Or rather, the late sunset over the ocean. That barely visible sunlight over the water’s surface highlighting a deep and endless dark beneath with a film of fiery red.

“That’s -- these are not… what?” In confusion, I put away the phone and left my room.

The first time I looked in the bathroom mirror, I was being stupid. This time around, I wouldn’t be blinding myself to see this abnormality.

But just as I left my room, I came out into the hallway to only run straight into something… Someone.

“Woah, Sport.” Mike spoke, and I instinctively hugged myself above and around my chest. “You okay, now?”

“Yeah,” I said, but that might’ve been said too quickly.

In a brief silence, he looked at me. Then he took a step back, and when he took a deep breath, I knew a discussion was coming.

“Clint, may we have a talk?”

“Here? I, ah, I haven’t applied any of the medication yet.”

Curiously expressed, he raised a brow at me, then looked past at my room before asking, “Do you need some help?”

“No. I’m good doing it on my own.” I let one hand go to gesture at the bathroom. “I was just --”

“Business?” He said that with a smirk, but I shook my head in response. The smile was instantly gone. “What’s up?”

I shrugged and said, “I think the doctor misdiagnosed me. My eyes are red.”

“An infection, right?” I nodded in response. “Maybe it’s irritation… no?” I was shaking my head this time around. “Okay, I’m not a doctor, but, here, lift your chin and look up.”

In confusion, I asked for clarification on, “My chin?”

There, his smirk came back, and he simply gestured for me to raise my chin up. I didn’t see any harm in it, so I faced up and looked directly at him.

“Not at me.” He pointed up at the ceiling. “Up.” As directed, I rolled my eyes up. “Good. Let’s see…”

And the warmth of his large hands gently brushed up along my cheeks. He cupped the sides of my face in his hands. It was difficult to see him, but this warm scent that drifted under my nose reminded me of wine. ’Is he drinking?’

Thinking about that, and for me to smell his heady breath, had made me realized his face was too close to mine.

For a second, I was seized with a sense of an approaching panic. As I remained calm for the moment, I could feel the rough texture of his palms, the trespass of his fingertips in the fringes of my hair, and the trace of his hot breath flowing down my bared throat to disappear into the recess of my shirt’s collar.

And then a real panic sunk into me by a sensation I couldn’t ignore. It was an embarrassment to feel how tender I’d became from the hardening points of my nipples. It was like they were trying to pierce through the fabric in excitement. But I wasn’t excited about this, I was annoyed, and the fabric was slightly painful.

The shirt was soft, but as it shifted roughly with each heaving breath, I terribly desired to rip it off and expose my burning flesh to the cool air. I wanted to feel free from this torment.

And that was when I feared a dreadful possibility, ’Am I under its influence? Is it manipulating me?’

A tingling chill ran down my spine. As it traveled, I felt the odd warmth spread out over and around my now prickling skin until my whole body burned. The cold was gone, and in its place was a feverish heat erupting back up my column.

“You okay?” At the sound of his voice, I stopped breathing. “You’re burning up.”

Then I rationalized what he was doing. every sensitive fiber of my being relaxed. In concern, he really was just checking me out in more ways than inspecting my eyes. On that note, I happily discovered that procession when I felt the tug of his fingers on the heights of my cheeks.

In a delayed response, I reminded him by saying, “I’m sick.”

A single note of laughter was his reply.

His thumbs carefully dragged down to make my eyelids droop for his closer inspection. The temptation to blink was bothering me, but I focused on that. I would rather experience the strain of having my sore eyes open over the aroused reaction I had.

He squinted at me, then drew his face away, blinking. His hands twitched momentarily and became clammy before he let go of me.

Now it was my turn to ask, “Are you okay?” Instead of getting an answer, he took a step away from me and reached out to the wall for support. “Mike?”

“Sorry…” His voice was husky. “I need… I -- I, one… Give me -- Eck... I, a moment.” There was a choked staccato following every word he said to me.

In that moment, I had an idea what was happening and I immediately went to his side to help him sit down. If I was correct in my assumption, he was about to have a terrible seizure like Mrs. Pureview.

In and around the back of his waist, I slipped one arm, and with my other arm I attempted to pull him down with me onto the floor. But he was a formidably strong and tall man who was losing control of his body.

“This isn’t like her,” I said to myself. When this happened to Mrs. Pureview, she dropped out of sight onto the floor.

Mike was still standing. He didn’t appear to be struggling like Mrs. Pureview, but rather than that, he was disoriented. I thought, ’Maybe he’s dizzy?’ I was also unsure about seizures. It was possible that there were different types or everyone didn’t have the same experiences.

So all I had done to help him was stay by his side until he rode out whatever struck him.

When he appeared to breathe more easily, more in control, and less in need of support, I asked: “Are you o-- no, we need to call someone --”

“Yes -- wait, no. Yeah, I am okay.” He breathed out a woosh of relief and smiled at me. With a pat on my back, he said, “Thanks, Sport, but I’ll be okay. Don’t call anyone.”

I let go of him, but kept close by his side. Even if he thought he was okay, I still had my concerns. If this was related to what happened to Mrs. Pureview, he might not be as okay as he believed.

He sniffed, his chest expanding with each great inhale, then loudly exhaled again and again.

“Mike?” I was worried. After he had his breather, he finally drawn his attention back to me. “Maybe not call someone, but you should go to the hospital or --”

“I’m fine, really. Thank you.” He did sound better, but... “I’m sorry for asking this, but this might be relevant to finding your father. Has he said some things or done anything that you don’t think are illegal, but you feel are wrong?”

“What? Uh…” I wasn’t expecting our conversation to randomly flip over like that. At least he gave me the impression that he was better.

I took a step away from him and considered his question. When I thought about Dad, and any questionable things he may have involved himself with, I could only think of a couple instances.

“Well, yeah, but I don’t think it is related...” Mike looked down at me with expectation. I shrugged and continued. “He said one time that he was looking for someone to play chess with via satellite.”

That made Mike chuckle. “Okay, I can see your point. Anything else?”

“Um… one other, but I really don’t understand it.” He gestured for me to try, so I did. “This week, and a bit before, he was working with someone. I don’t quite get it, but I overheard him talk about using a line of light and radar?”

“As in radio waves?”

That sounded right, so I nodded. “Yeah. I think he might’ve meant lasers or something, but, anyways, he talked about using the line of light like a doppler radar.”

“Why do you believe this wasn’t right for him to talk about?”

“Ah, because, how he explained it didn’t fit in with his job description?” I shrugged again and stated: “He’s in communication, remember?” He nodded, but the confusion was still there on his face. “Dad said something about a target, and if the line stayed on the target, it would keep approaching until the line closed the distance and detected a miss, as in it just passed over the target -- that would trigger it to blow up in the target’s area.”

“That sounds like a missle.” In response, I nodded and said no more to incriminate my dad. “Do you know who he was speaking with?”

“No. None of this was my business and Dad was sick. I had thought he was doing work in bed, and what I just said, I thought he was talking about connecting with someone someplace remote or far away… or something.” Not certain of what to think of this, I shook my head and stated: “Look, I didn’t want to disturb him. I did that once when he was busy with his pants down.”

“Busy with his pants down?”

“Relieving some tension.” To feature an example of what I meant, I made a rude gesture of masturbating the air in front of my crotch.

“Oh, okay, got it. Go take your medicine.” He gestured for me to go back to my room while he jutted a thumb over his shoulder and said, “That reminds me… I’m go over your medicine cabinet again.”

“Again?” I still didn’t know what he expected to find in there, but I saw no harm it and shrugged. “Just vitamins and my dad’s stuff.” Then I thought better and asked: “Are you looking something for what just happened?” However selfish this felt, a little hope sparked in me that whatever ailed him was not related to me. “I know you said about drinking wine. Do you have a condition or experience headaches or…?”

“No. Thank you, but, no.” He waved away my concern and said, “We should’ve investigated this house properly.”

“Tell me about it. You guys trashed my dad’s room.”

“Sorry, that’s common. No stone left unturned.” He smiled again and turned away from me to walk down the hall. “You going to be okay?”

“Sure. Are you going to be okay?” He waved me off while chuckling, so I decided against inspecting my eyes any further and headed back to my room.

Once back, I got to work on applying the drops by utilizing the towel I’d brought in after showering. Lying down on my bed, I tugged my ear and gave it a few drips. I waited, grabbed the towel and cupped it to my ear. Then turned over to let it drain out its excess. Then did the same exact thing to my other ear.

Lotion came next. A little squirt on the tips of my fingers, swipe along the outside edges, and I rubbed that in. It was kind of chilly, and I did find the moisture on the skin there more pleasant after the application. This still made me wonder, ’Why didn’t the doctor recommend this for the rest of my face?’ I shrugged and cleaned my hands on the towel.

Now for the pill. I wasn’t going to pop it out of its silver pak and throw it down the hatch dry.

Taking the pak with me, I left my room. Downstairs, I had two goals: A drink and to also check on Mike. Other than his episode in the hallway, he was strangely interested in my vitamins for some reason and I was curious to find out why.

As I passed the bathroom door, I felt the radiant heat within the open door frame. I supposed in wonder, ’Did it stay in the bathroom to give me some space? Or, perhaps it needs a break too?’

Either way, I stopped for a moment to tell it, “Don’t set the door on fire.” Oddly I felt the heat back away from the door. That was either a sign it understood me or it was reacting to my voice by distancing itself. I asked, “Do you understand me?”

Same response as at the doctor’s office: Nothing.

That silence between us was broken by the sound of the front door being shut. “...Mike?” I walked quickly to the stairs and made my way down while I kept an eye out for Mike. “Hey, Mike? Are you still here?” I began to wonder, ’Why would he leave?’

I entered the living room first. When I took a look out the large living room window, I saw Mike’s vehicle drive off. Across the street was the unmarked car --

-- that had an officer sitting in the front seat. I supposed that was someone who kept watch on my house at all times. Or at least called in to keep an eye on me while Mike was out. But I had to think, ’What would cause Mike to leave without informing me?’

...I didn’t know. If he did call someone in, then that officer might give me the answer.

That’s why I went to the front door and opened it enough for me to wave at the parked officer. Instead of him coming to me, he waved me over.

“...Great.” I curled my toes and contemplated how bad that would be crossing the street. My imagination already was giving me the illusory pains in my soles from premonition of having stepped on loosely spread gravel and sharp stones. Even without my burn injuries, that would hurt like Hell.

Putting on my dad’s slippers at the front door would solve that. His feet were bigger than mine, but I wasn’t going to be out for long. At least, I hoped that would be the case. I really wanted to get some shuteye tonight.

Real sleep… I had no idea how that would be accomplished with an invisible attacker.

For now, I had to find out what the deal was with Mike. I came out, crossed, and approached the driver’s door of the officer’s car.

To put on a bit of a show, I held my arms half up and out at my sides in broad confusion, “Hey. Mike left without saying anything.”

I was surprised when the officer smiled and casually said, “Yeah, we heard over the radio. He’s getting someone to do a little OT at the lab. Sorry you hadn’t heard, but I doubt he’ll make it. They all call it quits at twenty.”

That number took me a moment to figure out the meaning. Twenty, as in twenty-hundred hour. Eight o'clock. I personally thought it was strange that they would fully end a shift in their department, but that wasn’t what concerned me.

A light shake of my head and I asked in confusion, “Why?”

“No idea.” The officer shrugged and added in conclusion, “He wanted them to check something out.” One nod of his head and a, “Have a good night,” was his way of telling me that was all he knew and for me to go back inside.

Still left in the dark here, I relented and gave him a small wave before I turned to go back.

But I stopped…

Mike going out at night reminded me of a very important matter that would happen tonight. ’Maybe?’

Turned around, I informed the officer, “There is supposed to be someone coming over tonight… Maybe.” I had thought about this, ’With that thing influencing Mike, maybe me too, and it attacking me, I don’t want Adam hurt.’ “I don’t know if he will really show, but do you mind telling him to go home if he does?”

“Will do. He have a name?” I gently nodded.

“Adam.” I added, “He’s my age. Might be showing up around midnight.”

He turned and tilted his head just enough to give me that fatherly reproachful look. “This is a school night. What’s he doing visiting you this late?”

I shrugged and crossed my arms around my stomach securely, “Not really sure. He wanted to --” I just shrugged again because I didn’t know why he needed to be here to speak with me.

All he had to do was give me his contact information and we could have spoken, texted, or chatted online. He didn’t need to know me more by being here in person.

“Last we spoke, he said he wanted to get to know me more.” I honestly didn’t know what that meant.

“Alright, I’ll tell him to hold the date off for another night.” I felt flustered hearing that, but didn’t correct him. There was an amused laughter in his voice too.

“Thanks.” I smiled and waved to the officer once more before I headed back inside my house.

As I entered my home, I wondered, ’Did Mike or anyone tell that officer who I am?’ It felt funny, but I had been given the impression I was mistaken for a girl.

Inside the living room, I asked myself, “Do I really look --” I shook my head, knowing the answer of how I must appear.

The living room was only lit up by the outside street lamps.

Past the hall’s intersection that led to the kitchen or up the stairs, both were dark. I was going to the stairs, but felt the growing warmth as I approached the first step. I searched up the steps, from where I stood at the bottom, for the source of heat.

“What do you want now?” I wondered aloud, but also silently wondered: ’Why do I bother asking it when I never receive a response?’ I shook my head and took a step up.

The heat increased.

Another step and I felt the temperature’s intensity doubled.

I shouted up at it, “What!?”

I became hotter as I stood waiting for it to do something.

Eventually, unable to tolerate the rising temperature, I retreated from the stairs.

In an attempt to keep calm, I took a look at the kitchen and wondered, ’I should still grab a glass of water to take my pill.’ One worried look over my shoulder, then I went into the kitchen to blindly flip the lightswitch on.

I immediately saw the medicine cabinet had been ransacked. The cabinet door was wide open, and the cabinet itself empty. My vitamins, Dad’s prescriptions, and the regular set of painkillers and remedies were gone.

“What did he do? Bag it all?” I thought over why he’d take everything.

And I immediately came to one conclusion. He brought it up after taking a look at me, exposed, and witnessing my reaction. ’Does he think I’m being abused?’

...I was, but he probably thought of another suspect other than the supernatural one. He’s likely getting the wrong idea about my dad. He must think that my dad was slipping drugs in my vitamins or something. I thought, ’Like the whole reason I am this way was because of a regular intake of…?’

“I don’t know.” As I closed the cabinet door, I wondered if it was possible for drugs to have done what my Hellish tormentor was doing to me. “What in the world does this to someone? Can Dad get into trouble?”

My attention turned from the empty cabinet towards one filled with dishes. I got out a glass and set it on the counter. Once I fished the pak out of my pocket, I picked out the pill from the foiled back of the pak. I held the glass under the faucet and turned on the cool stream.

After I popped the pill in my mouth and swallowed, I chugged the glass of water --

-- and nearly spat it out.

It was horrible. I drank enough to get the pill down, but the water was absolutely disgusting.

At first, I thought there was something wrong with the water, so I poured the water out into the sink and rinsed it around the rim where my lips had touched. My stomach churned and I felt ready to --

Before leaving the glass upside down to dry out in the plastic rack by the sink, I felt a short hot spell and immediately threw up the water into the sink. I gagged as I revisited that Godawful taste of the water.

The kitchen light went off.

I laid my hands flat on the counter and stood still. My eyes would gradually adjust, but I had to wait until then before investigating what turned the light off.

But what worried me was, ’How long do I have until that thing decides it wants to torment me again?’ A frown formed on my face as I waited with apprehension.

An embracing warmth found me in the dark.

“...That was quick,” I said and went silent as it adjust how I was being hugged.

It held me from behind, over the shoulders again, but was being careful of my chest by hooking its arms around my neck and throat. It wasn’t leaning into me. It just held me there.

“You’re never going to tell me what you want, are you.” That was a statement, not a question I intended for it to answer. But I think it might have when it raised a hot hand up to my cheek and caressed me gently. I thought about it, ’It probably didn’t understand me, but maybe I know what it wants?’ “You -- It’s me you want?”

The sensation of warmth faded slightly as it backed away by an arm’s length. Only its hand remained on my face and it gave me a little push to turn around. To face it in this darkness.

I shook my head and gradually began to raise my voice to it. “What am I? A pet to you? Are you trying to break me in or something!” My lower lip and jaw was quivering as I tried reeling in my emotions. I worried, ’Can this thing influence me? Was it worse, more powerful, when emotions flare up?’

That hand was still on my cheek. Closing my eyelids, I shook my head again until its hand dropped.

Then I felt the edge of the counter behind me acutely. My eyes shot open when I was bodily slammed into it and nearly thrown backwards over the countertop. But I was grabbed before I went further over.

Had this creature not hugged me tightly to itself, I’d be in a lot of pain from getting my back -- hypothetically -- broken in half. It pressed its figure fully against me and I could feel every motion of its form comfortably adjusting against me.

One of its hot -- but temperate -- arms let go to grab my arm. I was tugged.

“You want me to hold --” I swallowed back my voice before I said something I would regret. It held me. My thoughts were on, ’What if I piss it off and I’m set on fire?’ It burned the Hell out of me once.

With that on my mind, I wanted to tell it that this didn’t mean we were friends when I hugged it. My arms wrapped around its firm back. I finally held and felt its figure. Explored it.

What I touched confirmed it was definitely female.

Along my jaw, I felt Her hot kisses nip at me before she reached the bottom of my ear. I felt a burning sting on the top ridge of one ear, then the other. Drumming, booming, pulsing noise assailed my hearing until she ended her attention on my ears.

Her body shifted against mine to stand up fully and press her forehead into mine. We stood at an exact level with each other.

That intoxicatingly hot breath feverishly breathed over my lips. I could feel her nose and brow brush lightly on mine to be sure it inspired me to breathe in deeply.

Quickly.

Hungrily.

Baited, I struggled to hold back that potentially incubated titillation. A kiss might be all it would have taken to set her off. When I didn’t bite her alluring bait, she lifted from my forehead and remained facing me.

She wasn’t as invisible anymore. ’Why?’ I saw the slightest of motion in the kitchen’s darkness.

In front of me, through her, the street light coming from the living room’s window offered me a slight outline of her. The gradual tilt of her head was highlighted with a warped light. Like a mirage on the hot sands, only she was real and here to sate a thirst.

Hers...

And mine.

But all we did was stand within each other’s arms.

As I watched her, I caught the movement of her head. She was nodding.

If only she would speak. I wanted to ask her what she might have been thinking right now. I wondered, ’Was she admiring something about me and nodding in approval?’ After that thought, it felt self-centered. Too selfish. My mind made up another theory, ’Maybe she’s figured something out?’ I wouldn’t know unless she told me.

A moment passed between her nod and my thoughts. Then a radiant palm traveled down my back to slip into the waist of my boxers. She pushed them down.

I straightened up and almost let go of her, but she pressed her advantage further against me, holding me against the counter in one arm as she stroked around my bare hip to what stood between us. I wanted to know what she was doing, but now I had no voice.

Instead of me asking or protesting, I was panting faster.

A shift of warmth against my shoulders made me believe she was holding herself up with me as her support. My entire body went rigid the second I knew what she was about to do.

A choked gasp escaped my lips when I felt her guide us together. Immediately, I felt the inside of her thigh and calf brace against the outside of my leg. She settled herself down until we were almost level again with each other. Only one arm around the back of my neck, the other still hugged, her form tightly against me, and now I was inside her.

It was like entering a hot pool. At first, far too bitter-sweet to enjoy, but after a moment of adjusting to its temperature, bliss. More wonderful the longer I deeply remained.

We only stood there. She didn’t have to do anything and I was provoked into motion.

Her forehead returned to lean against mine. I could imagine that I was locked with her gaze.

This time, she didn’t hold back her assault on my lips, no luring, bating, just the hunger. Every time we parted open our mouths, she breathed in me and I her.

The only unpleasant reaction I had was when I winced in pain as her body temperature intensified. Hot and hotter until I didn’t want to partake in this any longer.

She began to move her hips slowly. I was being burned, but the she-devil had ignited my arousal and stimulated an aspiration in me for climax.

A fiery insanity poured in, breathed passionately, and devoured without mercy all that was inside of me.

It didn’t matter how it ended, I just wanted the fulfillment our efforts would have accomplished. I was enraptured beyond belief and her passion grew unbelievably hotter and faster. A gratified suffering that permitted me no power or will to break free.

So very much like the journey through the other world, I was unaware of the passing of time, but my body was. Unable to hold myself up anymore, I collapsed onto my knees. An edged scrape had scored my back against the counter fully behind me, but she straddled my thighs and became my distraction.

In a brief opportunity away from her face, I sucked in chilly air, but found no relief in what should have refreshed me. I couldn’t breathe.

A hand slid in back of my head and combed sideways through my yellow hair until she secured her palm firmly to pull me close to her. She must have recognized I was choking on the cooler air. Our hasty lips conflicted with each other harshly. I learned my breathing was labored without her infernal kiss.

Then she abruptly broke our kiss. I watched the shimmering figure on top of me as I gasped to breathe again. Slowly, I felt her sit erect on me. Gulping what I could into my lungs, I tried to pull her back. Swallowing in vain, my body tensed with every knotted muscle in me as I stretched and strained to gain back my losses.

A hiss.

At first, I didn’t know what it was that I had heard. As I focused on the source, I found her leaned over my head and heard that hiss come from her.

She was shushing me. I didn’t know why until I heard myself.

It took me a few seconds to realize I was crying. I worked on calming myself down. It took awhile than I thought it should have, but after she began to soothe me with pets, I did.

One heated kiss was planted on the top of my head before I felt her slide off of me. 

Slow and steady, I gradually regained my breathing. I wasn’t entirely sure if I had ejaculated or what had happened. That sensitive effect, which I’d experienced only once by Erin blue-balling me, didn’t happen. Or rather, I had undergone something else entirely more exhilarating than being vigorously indulged.

That feeling… I wasn’t sure if there was a name for what I’d felt. I thought, ’Can dying feel pleasant?’ That was how I felt, dying. Little by little, some piece of me died, but I was far from dead. It was like I was about to have an out of body experience.

As if I already left my body, I saw us.

The soft and warm hand of this fiery woman stroked over a drenched in sweat blonde haired head until I began to nod off. That single nod brought me back.

Each time I felt close to the loss of consciousness, she lifted my chin up. Either she’d caress my cheek, kiss me once more, nuzzle into my neck, but always something different to stir me from eternal sleep.

When none of her affection was about to keep me from passing out, I was tugged upwards. She tried to lift me to stand on my feet. I wobbled at first, but I stood.

With a wince, I became aware of a scorching pain that stood out over the rest of my hurts. Just for a fleeting second, it was numbing until it fade into nothingness. It had originated from where we had been intimately connected.

As I became less mindless, I knew why it had hurt so much. Not surprising when I thought, ’I just had sex with fire.’

Again, I was tugged to keep standing. I thought, ’Is she helping me to bed?’ I doubted that. I reasoned, ’If she wanted me there, I wouldn’t have been barred from going upstairs before she jumped me in the kitchen.’

Walking was difficult for me. It was a bit breezy too. I searched and pulled to go back for my boxers, but she tugged harder. I was guided away from where we had recently been for who knows how long. I had to make do with the bottom of my soft green shirt gripped in a fist and tested with a measured yank down over my naked thighs. I thankfully thought, ’At least this shirt was long enough.’

Forcing myself to walk was just like my endeavor to find my dad in the other world. I burned all over, I was in pain, tired, and I had her with me.

Only this time, she made the effort to help me walk -- no piggyback rides.

Despite the assistance she gave me, I struggled. I don’t know how many times I blinked, passed out, and woke right back up before I stumbled another step.

I was a bit more alert when I heard the door open. I thought, ’Mike must be back.’ When I heard the door close behind me, I rationalized it was us. We had gone out the back door through the kitchen.

It was then I realized how far out of it I was. I barely knew where I stood, let alone where we were going.

Again, I tried to pull away and to go back inside, but she tugged me harder away from that direction. I fought a bit, then less, and lost, surrendered to her comfortable hold around my shoulders. I was too tempted to lean my head down upon her own unseen shoulder.

We continued to walk away from home.

The crunch beneath my feet was a sign that we did not take the front yard, but the back. We went through another neighbor’s yard behind our home. Soon, the crunch of twigs and other natural detritus was unheard as I felt the transition from grass to solid crete.

Even with her support, I couldn’t take another step. I just held the shirt down around my hips and remained standing. At least, I stood for as long as I could. I kept having these blackouts and came closer and closer to passing right out of her arms.

“Clint?” That voice…

I shook myself awake and aware to see a mousy-haired person first stop, then walk, and finally run towards us. There was a glint of light in his eyes.

’Wait, no…?’ Glasses. Streetlight caught his lenses.

As he approached faster, I could see more of his freckled face.

“Adam.” I found my voice then and there, and enough courage to whisper a harsh demand to my invisible shepherd, “Don’t you fucking touch him.”

With a single warm kiss on my cheek, she let me go. I felt her heat fade from where I alone stood, then fell to my knees. I tried to stand, and somehow managed, but as I was swaying on my feet, I knew I wouldn’t be up for much longer.

But that was by the time Adam got to me.

“Clint -- ah, are you…? Do you sleepwalk?” Hearing him say that made me crack a smile and cry at the same time. “Hey, du-- Ahm, you okay? Are you walking around in your underwear?” I shook my head and nearly fell forward from dizziness. “Wow, okay, okay. Hold on, let me take you back home.”

“No!”

My eyes were wide and I clutched at him now that he was close. I shook my head more fiercely than my light shake before. I consoled myself inwardly, ’Calm down…’

A little calmer, I told him: “No. Please don’t take me back.” I stared at him and knew if we went back, the police officer there would ask questions. I was not in the right condition to explain or cover this with truths or lies.

That was my lesser worry as I more feared for what she would do to him if given the chance.

“Please, Adam, don’t take me back there.” I pleaded and pleaded once more, “Please?”

I could see he was conflicted and he said so. “What do you want me to do? Mike would go after me if I brought you back to my home.”

’Is he afraid of Mike?’ It made sense when I considered our dinner fiasco.

I instantly told him, “He’s gone.” Again, I shook my head to correct my statement. “For now. Maybe all night.”

Adam stared at me for a moment. “Are -- You’re not running away, are you?”

I thought about that. Technically, I was, but not from what he thought.

“It’s complicated.” I didn’t want to stand out here any longer. He didn’t resist my grab at his shirt. So, I took a step forward and hugged him close to beg him once more. “Please, don’t take me back there.”

Within a few seconds, I felt his heart between our chests beat faster and harder than when I’d initially pressed against him.

He had a bit of a shaky voice as he stated the obvious: “You’re -- You don’t have a -- Clint, you’re not wearing anything under that shirt.”

He helped me laugh. I nodded and rested my head on his shoulder.

My voice was stifled as I said, “Yeah. Why would I?”

“Are you also…” Instead of finishing his query, he patted my hip. “Clint, you’re only wearing a shirt out here?” I nodded again and hugged him tighter. “Ah, jeeze… okay, I’ll take ya to my home. You have to be quiet because we’ll be sneaking in.” He gave me a light pat on my shoulder and added, “I kinda need you to let go, though. That cool?”

Again, I nodded, but I held him close for a bit longer and said, “Thank you.”

I was just as tempted to fall asleep on his shoulder like I had with the warm one that left me a little while ago. But I did partly pull away from him. He didn’t appear to mind me using him as a support to aid me.

And I needed his support. The whole way, I tripped and stumbled through the silent neighborhood to his house.

It occured to me then what time it must be and how long I’d spent in the kitchen in ravishment. Adam was out and about, which meant I had been locked between her fiery thighs for hours.

I figured, ’No wonder why I’m walking funny.’