More Than This

It was a bitterly cold night in late February, and I had found myself half way accross the city at my good friend's door.

I didn't ask why he wanted me to come over. Roman rarely ever explains himself. He sounded a bit troubled and told me no one else was answering their phone, and he just wanted someone to be with him. An odd request coming from such a stoic.

It was raining that night, and big drops fell on my head, sliding off the nylon hood and running down the nip of my nose. I sniffled, cold and wet and wanting to get in his door but he wasn't answering it.

After about a minute in the rain and a few good pounds on the door, he finally answered.

He looked tired and sick, his eyes dark and brow furrowed.

"Come in." he said solemnly, moving out of the way so I could enter.

I took off my jacket and placed it at the foot of his stairs. "You okay?"

He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets and sitting down on a kitchen chair.

"Laura left."

"Where did she go?"

He shook his head, "No, she left. Left me."

I turned and stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly." he said with a tiny grin, but lost it as he went on, "This morning she threw the ring in my face and said she was leaving me. She took most of her stuff."

Roman and Laura had been engaged for a while now. It was no surprise. They'd been together since Freshman year. Now we were all grad students, and it seemed obvious to everyone that the perfect couple in our circle of friends would tie the knot.

"So, that's it? She just called it off?"

He nodded, "Said she found someone else."

Found someone else? When Roman was such a catch? That didn't make sense to me. Why throw away someone amazing?

"Here," he said, "I'll get you some coffee." he stood up and went to work brewing some coffee. I watched him as he did.

Roman and I were a lot like each other. The strong silent type I guess. Other people thought we were weird, but it's just that we didn't have to speak, we don't have a problem with silence.

It's only after years that I and Roman became close, simply because we're both so resigned. Once we did though, we found out about all our similarities. He was a great person to be around because we both had the same interests and ideas.

I looked at him some more. He was quite a handsome man. His hair was dark brown, almost black, and his eyes were a beautiful shade of hazel. His skin was tanned most of the time, and he had very strong broad features and an aquiline nose. Although he was mesomorphic there was some pudge to his body from being about fifteen pounds overweight, but I thought it was charming actually.

Roman returned with the coffee, handing it to me in a mug decorated with Kahlo's painting 'The Two Fridas'. I can still remember when we went to see that exhibition, only he and I were impressed with the art we saw that day and the friends that came with us, including Laura, became bored with it easily.

"Sad isn't it." I said referring to the cup, "Fits the somber mood, I suppose?"

He shrugged, "I guess I too know how it feels to have my heart ripped out." he said softly, staring into his own mug. His coffee was black, the way he usually drank it. I saw his sad reflection in it. It was almost poetic.

"I'm real sorry, Roman." I said, patting him on the shoulder, "She just didn't know what she had. That's all. Maybe she'll change her mind."

Roman sipped his coffee and thought for a moment. "I don't want her back." he said bluntly, "Since I'm not good enough now, I doubt I will ever be."

"That's a bit defeatist of you."

"I don't care. I don't care about her, not anymore." he stared off at a framed picture of them together on the side table, "I haven't in a long time."

"What?" I said incredulously, "Everyone always thought you two were the perfect couple."

"Yeah, thought," he snorted, "I thought the engagement would change things. Guess not."

"Wow. I had no idea. Neither of you ever said anything."

It struck me then that of course he'd never known how to say it. Not even to me, the one who probably understood him best out of everyone.

"Whatever. Fuck it, it's over. And good ridance."

We sipped our coffees in silence, both thinking about the state of things, about what would come next.

The thought that he was back on the market only briefly came into my mind. I was seeing someone, so he was off limits, even now. Roman was hot, anyway, he could go out and get any girl he really wanted.

"Do you mind staying here tonight?"

"Hmm?"

"I had a bad day, I just want to know someone's around if I need them. You can stay in the spare bedroom."

Certainly another odd request, but he was my friend and his long time girlfriend had left him so I obliged.

"Sure, Roman. Whatever you want."

He showed me to the spare, only down the hall from his own.

"Sorry it's on such short notice." he said, "I didn't want - " he trailed off.

"It's okay. Goodnight." I said, stepping inside and closing the door. I began taking off my somewhat wet clothing and was down to my cami and boxers when I heard a loud crash next door and Roman uttering out a "Oww, shit!"

"Roman?" I said, going to his room, "What happened?"

He was nursing his now lightly cut arm, pointing to a bunch of sharp boxes that fell from his closet on top of him.

"Wardrobe malfunction? Literally?" I laughed.

He nodded, "Damn it." he said, "I've got to go take care of this."

He stepped into the master bathroom and I heard the faucet turn on as he cleaned the wound up. I picked up some of the boxes, trying to stack them neatly, when he came back out.

At first I didn't notice him there staring at me. I turned and saw his face fixed on me, his brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?

"Nothing." he said. "Nothing at all."

"Roman, are you okay?"

He came forward then, his face so close to mine. It barely registered that his lips were against mine.

I pulled back in protest.

"Roman!"

"I'm sorry." He said, his hands dropping from my shoulders back to his sides.

We stood in silence.

"I always wanted you." he said finally.

"What?"

"Ever since we began talking I wanted you. Laura loved me, but she didn't understand me, didn't know what I wanted. You did."

I shook my head, "Roman, you're confused. You're on the rebound, it's -"

"No, I'm not confused." he said sternly, "I'm sure I've been falling in love with you."

And there it was, out in the open.

"You," I stuttered, "You love me?"

His arms wrapped around me, and he just held me, his strong hands against the small of my back. He put his face in my hair and breathed in deeply.

"Roman," I said, "What does this mean?"

"I don't know."

He let go. "I'll be back in a moment." he said, turning and going into the bathroom once more.

What had just happened? My friend had just confessed his love for me!

My mind was spinning. I turned and saw his bed, a sprawling California king, that seemed rather inviting at this moment. I shimmied out of my undergarments and slipped in to it, the silky sheets tenderly rolling over my body, readying me for what was to come.

What would he say when he returned to find me in his bed? It was now or never - I would hand myself over to him if that's what he wanted, and he could take me or leave me.

He came out in his pajamas, and his hair was slightly damp from what seemed like him washing it.

I laid before him on the silken sheets, watching as he inched closer. He had on a dark blue shirt that seemed to be made of the same fabric as the sheets. His pants were also of the odd material and hung loosely from his hips. He was barefoot and his shirt hung open exposing his nearly hairless chest. He padded to the bed and stood at the head, eyeing me.

"I've been waiting for this." he said, a sad look on his face.

"As have I."

Silence. He grabbed the sheet and slowly pulled it from my body, exposing my now hardened nipples and trembling skin. He stared.

A warm hand came up to caress my calf, soft lips striking me on the sensitive place where the knee meets the shin. I shivered.

The hands moved, running fingertips up my legs until they came to stroke my belly.

He moved onto the bed, one of his legs between my own. I felt his hardness against my thigh.

I looked into his eyes as he was above me. He looked very serious, but handsome too.

"Do you love me?" he asked intently.

"I love you."

A pause, "Do you need me?"

"I need you."

He closed his eyes as if in gratitude. He opened them again, a glare of desire in his eyes. He kissed me then, softly, his lips seeking to part mine, bringing my lower lip into his mouth. He tasted like the sweet cigars he smoked and smelled like a mixture of the smoke, his spicy cologne and the musk of his own body. It was intoxicating.

I threw my arms around him, gripping the muscles of his bac and shoulders through his shirt. Upon feeling that he nearly ripped it off in a struggle to press our hot bodies together. My breasts pressed up against his chest as he crushed me to him.

We covered each other in kisses. I found his earlobe and gave it a nibble before moving to his temple and down to his jawbone where I placed tiny kisses all the way to his chin.

He moved slightly and pulled his pants off. His manhood, hard and angry looking, bobbed up and down.

Once more he captured my lips before burying himself in me.

I convulsed around him, struck with ecstasy as I felt him fill me completely.

He pulled back and dug himself into me for effect and kissed me again.

His hands grabbed my ass as he began to slide in and out. My own reached down to caress his bacside as he moved.

There was a light sweat that covered him, I felt it as I kissed his temple and when I ran my hand accross his feverish skin.

There was no care in the world as we made love. Time seemed to melt away. We held each other dearly, as if the other was the most precious thing in the world.

His breathing became more labored as he neared his finish, panting in my ear and whispering sweet nothings. I felt him pulse inside of me, his seed fiercely spilling out of him as he squeezed me to him.

I was surprised by his outburst. After he caught his breath he slid out of me and laid beside me, one hand in my hair, the other stroking one of my breasts.

We didn't speak. There was no reason.

Together we slept, finding comfort in the other's presence. He looked so sweet when he slept. The last thing I remember before drifting off was the unusual look of peace on his face. Ah yes, I thought, the man I love.

When I awoke he was still there, and he too was awake, watching me intently.

"Good morning." I said, kissing him.

His hands reached for my buttocks again where he first playfully slapped, then squeezed, "You know, I had a lovely night last night, but I don't remember much about the woman that seduced me. All I remember is her deriere." he grinned.

I swatted at him, "So nice that all you can recall is my backside!"

We laughed and moved together. Soon I was on top of him, pinning him down, kissing him. It felt right for once. It felt like it was meant to be.

I looked up and saw a large mirror on the side of his bed.

"Look," I said pointing. It was a lovely sight of skin against skin and limbs entwined, hard to make out what was what, it was all just a tangle of flesh.

He took my hand and kissed my fingertips. "Two as one now."

I gazed into his eyes, wanting to fall into them, wanting to be a part of him as the image of us in the mirror would convey. I never wanted to give him up.

As we made love again that morning, the sun's rays creeping in to shine accross our bodies, I knew that there was nothing more than this.