Page 35 of Sweet Thing

chapter 17

Can you hear me?

Bastian’s voice was low and gravely. “Sorry to wake you.”

Simeon rolled over in bed; he sighed out his sleepy reply. “What time is it Bast?” Simeon moved the phone from his left to right ear for comfort, and cracked an eye to see his alarm clock blinking three fifty-five a.m. Sim sighed deeply into the phone. All he could hear was his caller’s steady breathing. Sim was not in the mood for a heavy breathing call. He was exhausted, confused by the enormity of what he had offered to this man who, when it came down to it, was a stranger.

Sim enjoyed the group dinner. He and Bastian ended the evening by sharing a cab and offering friendly pecks on the cheek as they parted, neither wanting to overstep the very fragile truce between them. But then there had been three days of silence.

“You okay?” Simeon ventured. There was something so very intimate about talking to this man while in bed in the dark. Bastian was still just breathing down the receiver. Simeon waited for a moment. He was so tired he couldn’t move, so Sim just listened to the steady breathing become labored. More awkward, silent moments passed before Bastian sobbed,

“He’s in my dreams, Simeon. Always. I cannot… I cannot...Scheisse!“

Simeon sat up in bed. “Hey, hey, it's okay, take a breath, yeah“, he cooed soothingly, alarmed at hearing yet more tears from his new friend, who was more messed up than he was. Simeon knew all too well what grief was and how it could change a person. He‘d shed his fair share of tears in therapy with Dr. Schroder and Dr. Neuhaus.

It had taken five years for Simeon to finally start to grieve for the sudden loss of his mother. Socialite Marielle Duchamp was only forty when she‘d found out she had a rare, aggressive form of Breast Cancer. Simeon was too busy living his hedonistic life, sucking and fucking his way around Europe, to check-in at home. Sim hadn’t seen his mother in six months and never saw her again. By the time Simeon turned up on the doorstep of his parents Paris home, his mother had been gone three weeks. Simeon never grieved, holding his pain, shame, and guilt at bay with drink and drugs. He really did understand what Bastian was going through. Neither man had the chance to say goodbye to their loved one.

Bastian was sobbing down the phone now. “I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I shouldn‘t have called... I apologize for waking you“, Bastian sniffed.

“Talk to me, Bast.“ Simeon’s voice remained calm and comforting.

“Tell me about your dreams. Are they good dreams or bad dreams?“ Simeon ventured suddenly, surprised at how his heart was aching with sympathy for the man. The sobbing paused, and Bastian snuffled,

“Do you... really want to listen?“ he asked tremulously, sounding too much like a little boy. Simeon felt a sharp tug in his chest of... something. He hummed his positive response.

“They begin as wonderful dreams“.

Simeon rested his head back down on the pillow again and put his phone on speaker mode. He lay in the darkness listening to Bastian talk about dreams of his dead lover. A man who, by the sound of it, was perfect in every way. Simeon couldn’t help but think, What the hell am I doing? There is no way I can compete with a perfect ghost.

“We are together, making love”, Bast explained, “It feels so real. I can taste him, his scent is all around me, the way he touches me. It's beautiful. And then Matti is on top of me, riding.” Bastian paused, and Simeon heard him blow his nose. Then Bast continued “I look at him, and then he is gone, and another man is riding me. The sex is so fucking hot, and he’s, you know, fucking my brains out, and we are loving it.”

“Well, um, that does sound hot,” Simeon cajoled.

“Then Matti is at the end of the bed watching, with these large dead eyes—And I’m fucking someone else. I feel like shit, like I’m betraying him, but I can’t stop. It feels too good. Then, I come for real and wake up…”

“Uh, oh kaay, not so hot,” Simeon had no idea what to think. It appeared that Bastian even felt guilty about fucking an imaginary someone in his dreams. No wonder he couldn’t get it up in real life situations.

“Who is the other man—in the dream?” Simeon asked conversationally, just to keep Bastian talking and not crying.

“For more than a year the man was faceless. But in the past month, the man is… you.”

Simeon was stunned by the candid admission. “Umm. I really don’t know what to do with that information”, he admitted. An awkward silence passed between them.

“Um.” Simeon bit his lip and then spoke: “What is it you like about the sex with me in the dream?” Depraved thoughts ran through his head, and Simeon’s curiosity was getting the better of him.

“In the dream, you are breathtaking… Incredible. The sex is so intense. You’re like a fucking Energizer bunny. But it’s only a dream. I’ve never been fucked that hard in real life.” He added.

“Wow! Uhh. Okay.” Sim was tongue-tied for a moment. He took a breath and then in a playful, seductive tone said: “You know I really do fuck like the Energizer bunny.” There was a beat of silence and then an exhalation of “Fuuhhk” from the other man.

Simeon thought that he should maybe take advantage of the sounds of arousal. If he could make Bastian come through phone sex, maybe they would both get a good night’s sleep.

“Do you still try and jerk off Bast?”

“No, not for sometime… it’s pointless.”

“Are you getting hard?” Simeon purred.

“Ein bisschen” (a little) he admitted.