Rock-paper-scissors sent me to sleep on the couch in the living room, and Mark got the bedroom. I remember that as a child I often fell asleep near the fireplace on this couch. It was warm here, and the crackling of the fire soothed me. Only I was smaller... Now the couch seems terribly uncomfortable. I toss and turn until I hear Mark's annoyed voice from the bedroom.

"Stop creaking like a geezer!"

Yeah, the couch creaks every time I change position, which happens about 30 times in a couple of minutes.

"You try to sleep here!" I snap.

And Mark tried, it only lasted ten minutes. In the end, he went back to the bedroom, where I just got comfortable.

"Move over," Mark points to the other side of the bed. And I reluctantly move to free some space. Mark lies down.

"Reminds me of the past," Mark breathes out.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you remember? Those two years when you did not speak, I had to sleep in your room, otherwise you would not sleep at all. You could sit all night looking at the wall. When I lay down next to you, you immediately fell asleep, but as soon as I got up, you woke up. I gave up and got used to sleep on a narrow strip of the bed, without changing position."

"Now I would have fallen asleep perfectly without you." I mutter and hide under the blanket.

"Yeah..." says Mark thoughtfully. "You are all grown-up now."

In the middle of the night I wake up, the moon is shining right in my face. I get up to close the curtains, but I stop to look out the window. Above us the dark blue sky like a sea strewn with stars. In the city it was impossible to see such bright stars, but here it seems that the house is sinking in a shining abyss. I don't close the curtain, I like the way the moonlight pours into the room, like a river of milk. Mark fidgets on the pillow, but doesn't wake up. I look at him in the light of the moon.

I wonder what it is like... to be with him?.. This Ian... knows. They do it, right? And they kiss each other... Everything is like in a normal relationship (which I have never had).

I lie back on the bed with my face exposed to the moonlight. And suddenly a picture pops up in my mind. I see that I kiss Mark.

I'm instantly thrown into a fever. I can't stop my thoughts. They lead on feelings, so confused and scattered. There are so many of them that it seems to me that I would drown in them. My breathing becomes unnaturally hot and shallow, my heart quickens.

I am aroused as I've never been before. I am ready to climb the wall from a sudden and such strong desire. All my senses sharpened. I can feel Mark's breath behind me.

I keep my hands over the blanket, but I can't lie still. I try to think of something else, honestly... But all I see is pictures of where I am with Mark. I have to get up, go somewhere...

"Ray, are you ok?" Mark's sleepy voice made me numb. At first I decided to pretend to be asleep, but my breathing was still too fast. "Ray? What happened?"

"Nothing." I barely utter with my disobedient tongue. "Get back to sleep. Sorry to wake you up."

Mark props himself up on one elbow and takes me by the shoulder. It would be better if he didn't do it. The distance between us has become too small.

"You are all wet! Do you have a fever?" Mark's voice sounds really worried.

"No, no! I'm fine, it's just hot." I try to turn away and fold in half.

"Ray!"

"Damn, Mark, leave me alone! I just need to take a piss!"

I wanted to get up, but my movements were somehow awkward. The sheet slid down, revealing to Mark what I had hoped to hide. I couldn't be sure, the room was rather dark, but it embarrassed him no less than me.

He turned away. I hurriedly went to the bathroom. But that didn't help me much.

I went into the living room, the fireplace was almost extinguished, only coals were smoldering there. I sat on the floor in front of the fireplace on the carpet. Warm air touched my bare feet. Here the moon could not reach me. But Mark could.

He came in and sat down next to me.

Doesn't he understand that I need to be alone?!

My body, apparently, firmly decided to stand to the end. I felt an unrelieved tension, and Mark only made it more tangible.

"Are you all right?" Mark asks.

"Yes," I reply. "But I'd rather be alone right now."

It seemed to me he was upset by my words. But he nodded and went back to the bedroom, leaving me alone. The last ember was smoldering in the fireplace, and everything inside me was still burning.

When I finally decided to go back to bed, Mark seemed to be asleep. I lay down and covered myself with a blanket. But before I had time to take a breath, I felt his hand on my waist.

My heart instantly quickens. I spent so much time trying to calm myself down, and it was all in vain. One touch, and I'm on fire again. Mark's hand slides lower, and my body involuntarily arches forward. His palm moves down and stops at the elastic of my underwear. I breathe out loudly. I feel his hesitation, but I've already lost the ability to think clearly. Without saying a word I take Mark's hand and push it down, under the elastic... And when I feel his touch, I stop thinking at all.

I was completely in his hands, and he handled me skillfully. It took few minutes...

I think the whole forest heard my groan...

The tension immediately went away, replaced by a pungent feeling of awkwardness. I did not even dare to turn to face Mark. I only heard his rapid breathing. His hand slid down my back and... that was it. Everything went quiet, plunged into darkness and fell asleep at once.

I had to change my underwear. And when I lay down again, Mark was asleep, or pretended to be. But clearly he did not want to talk about what happened. And neither did I.

The next day, we strenuously pretended that everything was the same between us, and it looked completely unnatural. Because there was no "the same" anymore. Every now and then I got lost in my thoughts, unable to forget what had happened yesterday and what I had felt. Mark diligently avoided my gaze and avoided any questions. Sometimes literally.

At lunchtime Mark got a call from work and we went back home. I was actually glad... I didn't know how to deal with last night and was not ready to have another one.

I don't know what happened to me... to Mark... It's like we were intoxicated by the moonlight and lost our minds.

We arrived late. I immediately ducked into the shower, and then, citing fatigue, locked myself in the room. But I didn't sleep. The moonlight poured unceremoniously through the window, felt at home, whispered to me.

I didn't remember much of my previous fantasies with which I had entertained myself in the shower or other moments of solitude, but apparently they were in no way comparable to what Mark did to me.

Maybe I think too much... or not! Damn! I don't know!

I bury my face deeper into the pillow.

The picture is now constantly haunting me, there are no other fantasies. And with pleasure and shame, I continue to scroll my memories while my hands try to repeat Mark's moves. To relive the same sensations.

The holidays were approaching, Mark offered to go to his parents, but I lied that my friends had invited me to stay with them. And I was left alone in an empty apartment. Well... not quite alone.

I drained that memory, drank it to the bottom, it wasn't so vivid anymore. I needed to update it... I needed it again... I needed more...

I looked like a junkie with trembling hands and wild eyes. I thought time without Mark would help me forget, but I locked myself in the apartment and did nothing but thought about that night over and over again. On the seventh day I decided to stop this and go to a party.

When I was dressing in the hallway, there was a knock on the door. I froze. Mark wouldn't knock.

I heard steps outside, then there were some indistinct sounds. Finally, everything was quiet. I waited a couple of minutes before going to the door. When I opened it, something fell to the floor. It was a folded piece of paper.

"Mark, we need to talk. Call me. Please. Ian."

I reread this line over and over and listen to my heart beat faster with excitement.

Mark never made up with him.

This gives me a vague joy.

I'm selfish, right?

I crumple the note and put it in my pocket. Mark won't be back until Tuesday anyway.