It was comfort and danger, rolled into one.
I tried closing my eyes. Tried steady breathing. Then I heard it, a small, subtle sound. The shift of blankets, maybe, followed by a soft exhale. Then it came again, not loud, just the kind of sound you wouldn’t notice unless you were already attuned to it. Gentle, rhythmic, barely there.
I frowned, half-sitting up, listening.
My pulse skipped.
I told myself it was nothing. A dream starting. A restless sleeper.
But then I caught it again, that breath, that quiet, uneven rhythm, and recognition hit like heat under my skin.
Oh.
I froze, every muscle locked.
For a second, I didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe. Realisation washed over me in waves of shock, awareness, and something perilously close to arousal.
Then shame flooded me.
I should stop listening.
I should make noise, clear my throat, turn on the radio, anything.
But I didn’t.
I lay there, still as stone, every nerve tuned to the faint, impossible sound coming through the wall.
It wasn’t graphic or loud, but it was so fuckingreal. Soft, human sounds.
Vulnerable sounds.
I’d heard desire before, in strangers, in partners, in my own body when I let the world fall away. But this?
This was worse. Better. Different.
Because I knew whose voice it was.
Because I knew exactly what it meant to me.
I shut my eyes tight.
I wanted to picture what lay beyond my door. My imagination filled in what my conscience begged me not to see.
My heart hammered so hard I could hear it. I pressed a hand against my chest, as if that might stop it.
Don’t.
I ignored the silent plea.
I listened, my own hand straying to my cock below the sheets, even though I fought the impulse.
I heard Cameron’s ragged breaths and knew what was coming. And when the rhythm broke and faded, when the toilet flushed, when silence finally fell once more and the flat went still again, I lay there in the dark, wrecked by the quiet I’d asked for.
I turned onto my back, staring up at the ceiling, my breath shallow and uneven.
I hated myself for listening.
I hated myself for understanding.