I Miss You by Ta-Ku (Queer love story)

Please listen to the song as you read.

So, as I have been having a horrible case of writers’ block, I have decided to write about something that is forever a source of inspiration to me; Music. Now, how I appreciate music is unorthodox (look up synesthesia) so this is how this series (?) is going to work; I will put the song title as the title of the post so you can listen to it as you read (pretty please?). I see scenes and colors in music, and I always have. This series allows me dive into that part of myself by allowing me to write what I see in certain songs. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Welcome to the second installment of my music inspired writing series. Enjoy.

The skin on my back was warm- maybe a getting a bit too warm- and I’m sure Jola felt the same; we were both laid out identically on the Ankara mat that belonged to his dead grandmother, on our stomachs, faces turned to each other, eyes closed, but I of course was taking sly peeks at Jola when he wasn’t looking.

Lagos was always hot but today, while still being so, was a bit more bearable, and Jola had suggested we both leave work for the afternoon and relax in my backyard. With both of us going into our thirties and at the helm of successful careers, it was easy to get lost in work.

That was one of the things that initially drew me in; Jola was determined, ruthless and resilient, but, when situation demanded, playful and soft and intuitive.

The honks, horns and shouting of Lagos traffic seemed far away at that moment, it was just Jola and I, no emails to reply to, no overly concerned mother to call back, no deadlines to meet, just us.

I’d always told Jola that if I had eyes like his, I’d have snagged all the babes in town; they were a warm, liquid brown and clear like a cup of Lipton tea. But in truth, I found every feature of his face attractive, and his body even more so; he had a long, slim body and skin darker than his warm eyes, which made them even more striking.

“What are you thinking?”, his voice now was a soft murmur, like he didn’t want to break the spell we were both in, and in contrast to his willowier appearance, he had a distinctively masculine baritone.

I pursed my lips before I blurted out something embarrassing;

I was just thinking about how I could stare at you for a whole hour and not get tired

Your skin is so smooth I want to touch you everywhere

My cheeks heated and I came up with a far more acceptable and less awkward answer.

“Thinking of how we are both going to get serious sun burn if we don’t go inside soon”

There, a much more appropriate answer.

But Jola didn’t move, he merely hummed at my statement and closed his eyes again.

God, he’s beautiful.

Jola was one of the only people in my life who knew I liked men, he had found out when our companies had attended a training seminar together and he’d been absent for a session. I’d taken notes on my laptop, so, I offered to give them to him and handed him my laptop, which led to him finding a gay novel in my documents and a very awkward few days for me. He never brought it up, but I noticed whenever he would refer to anything romantic concerning me, he would use gender neutral terms. I was grateful that he’d never actually brought it up and confronted me; he’d just taken it in stride. Like it was a pimple on my cheek or a new haircut.

Of course, he had no idea that I had a huge, horrible and undeniable crush on him.

God, that would mess everything up; since moving to Lagos, he had been a constant in my life and I liked it like that. Plus, he knew I was a flaming homosexual, he shouldn’t have to put up with my feelings for him.

My dick was getting hard and the sun was getting too hot.

I stood up carefully, making sure I wasn’t facing him fully when I did.

“Oga, I’m going inside to shower” my voice was gruff, like it always was, but even more so at that moment. I hoped he didn’t notice.

I fully straightened as walked past him and faced the house.

All he did was hum again, and that did nothing to help the state of my penis.

Even the water was warm as it fell over me; Lagos heat would make the devil cry.

When I came out of the bathroom, Jola was in only a towel, seated on my bed and using his phone.

He looked up when I came in and flashed me a small smile,

“A shower doesn’t sound bad, sha”

I rolled my eyes at him and went to my wardrobe to get a change of clothes before I stared too long at the lean lines of his shoulders and legs; Jola was a runner, so his lower body was harder and more toned than his upper. He’d always been very comfortable with his body, even way back in university.

I just always tried not to stare.

In my dreams I fucked him into the mattress he was seated on right now.

As I dropped my towel to pull on my underwear, I heard him push off the bed and for one wild second I thought he would come over to where I stood.

My back and nape tingled.

Then I heard the bathroom door open and close.

I didn’t know if I was relieved or disappointed.

The sound of the water in the bathroom unsettled me, so, I pulled on a pair of loose jeans and went to the kitchen to get something to eat.

I wasn’t big on cooking, so on most days there weren’t provisions to make an actual meal in my fridge; today was one of such days. Since id started making a decent amount of money, I usually just ordered in, which I proceeded to do; the two slices of bread in the fridge weren’t going to do anything for me nor Jola.

As I settled on the sofa to wait for my order, unbidden thoughts of Jola in my shower came to mind, id never seen him naked before, but I’d gotten an eyeful of his ass on a few occasions, and they were mental images I revisited often.

The soft sound of his bare feet padding on my tiled floors alerted me to his presence.

Looking at him barely clothed always made my chest hurt in a funny way; he was beautiful, but all I could do was stare, and discreetly at that. He was dressed in a pair of my loose woolen shorts that were slightly larger than he was because I was more built than he was, his chest and feet were bare and slightly ashy from the cold shower.

He plopped himself down beside me with a loud exhale.

“What are you watching?”

He wasn’t with his phone, so his full attention would be on me, and that made my neck itch.

“Just a random movie”

He made a face, “I know you’d rather be reading right now” his eyes roamed my face for a second, “you don’t even look like you’re focused on what’s in front of you” his voice was teasing now.

I rolled my eyes at how right and also wrong he was.

Right, because yes, I much preferred a good book to a movie, any day.

Wrong, because I was hyper focused on what, or rather who, was in front of me- in a manner of speaking.

It felt like the dip created by his lean body in the sofa was pulling me towards him, like a tipping scale.

“What do you want to watch then?”

I faced him now, using my question as an excuse to look directly at him.

He too turned to face me, hand on chin as he pretended to think, a humored glint in his eyes.

My skin warmed from his direct focus on me.

“Food network” we said at the same time.

I rolled my eyes and pretended to be exasperated as I handed him the TV remote, in truth, I did enjoy the food station, I just liked to tease him that I detested it. He knew I didn’t anyways, and I liked to see him smile, so it was a win-win.

You’re such a finished man, Dotun.

We spent a few minutes watching the TV in silence before I snuck my first glance at him.

He was sprawled out on the sofa, his legs stretched out and his temple resting on the heel of his palm, face trained toward the show. I was seated beside his head, the right side of my body leaning on the armrest and my legs crossed Indian style.

At a point I stopped paying attention to the TV, I could feel the heat of him against my thigh.

When the show ended, he looked up at me, chin in hand. He scrutinized my expression then laughed once.

“You look…uncomfortable” there was a lilt at the end of the word, like he wasn’t sure if he was making an observation or asking a question.

“I’m very comfortable”

And the award for worst liar goes to…

Jola’s reply was an exaggerated eye roll before he turned back to the TV.

A few moments later, just as I was contemplating going to the bathroom to get away from the object of my affections for a while, Jola turned off the television and turned his whole body around to face me, he was now facing the back of the couch, one knee propped up on his foot, and the hem of the shorts he was wearing had ridden up due to his change in position. I could see a lot more of his hard thigh than I was used to; the skin of his inner thigh was a shade lighter than the rest of his body.

I shifted my gaze immediately and locked my jaw.

Why did he have to be so unintentionally attractive?

It didn’t help that he was looking up at me with those soft eyes and his lips were right there, looking as soft as I could imagine they would be.

I was so distracted that it took me a while to realize that he was just staring at me too.

I scrutinized his expression for a second and decided that he looked…contemplative.

And that made me uneasy; what was he thinking of? had I somehow slipped up and betrayed my stupid crush on him?

The silence still stretched as Jola pushed himself up into sitting position- but not fully; I watched, with a muted feeling of confusion as he reached his left arm, over my folded legs, and placed his palm down on the space beside my thigh farthest from him.

Effectively trapping me between himself and the sofa.

He was so close I could feel the soft puffs of his breath against my shirt. My whole body warmed like I was sitting next to a human sized heat lamp and my normal hyper sensitivity when I was around him felt like it had been amped up times a hundred.

The silence felt like the exact opposite of the meaning of the word; every single moment between us felt so loud it was almost physically auditory.

His eyes were still trained on mine. This was the first time I’d been able to just look at him, not a picture or a memory, but him, real and alive and warm and very nearly on my lap.

I started to panic; there was absolutely no way I would keep my body from reacting to his proximity, and then how awkward would that be?

Oh, I don’t know why I have a massive boner right now, must be the way you’re looking at me.

“I want to try something” his voice was a low rumble and it rolled over me like a grinding stone.

I blinked twice and my heart kicked into overdrive.

What was he doing? he’d never given me any indication that he was into guys, talk less of me specifically, hell, id seen him multiple times flirting with female colleagues- not that I could even blame them for flirting back. Was this some sort of cruel game for him? A way of boosting his male ego by finding out if I was attracted to him?

My chest contracted with anger at the thought.

“I want to go and use the toilet, Jola” my voice sounded brittle, even to me.

Fuck.

Suddenly, his face was an inch away from mine, hovering, his eyes slipping down my face to my lips.

Instinctively, I inhaled through my mouth, the desire to taste some part of him at war with my anger at him playing me like a child.

He hummed, his eyes flicking to mine for half a second before he closed the gap and kissed me.

For a few seconds I was motionless- how was this even happening right now?

Jola was kissing me.

Then he pulled back just as quickly, his eyes were downcast and he started to pull back.

I felt a sharp twist in my lower belly and I immediately gripped his arm, maybe a little harder than necessary, but he couldn’t just…do that, then pull away.

His eyes met mine again for a second and he looked…embarrassed? And sort of dazed, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Neither can I, omo.

In the split second I knew I had before he pulled away from my grip, I knew I had two options; let him go and try and laugh it off or ignore this whole thing completely, or, kiss the idiot again, show him what a real kiss was, and fuck the consequences.

He’d kissed me and my stomach was a mess of nerves and butterflies.

He glanced up at me again, his brown eyes darker and liquid.

Fuck you, Jola.

So, of course I pulled him back and kissed him.

This time I kissed him, I was physically bigger and stronger than he was, so pulling him onto my lap wasn’t too hard. My arm wrapped around his torso and my other hand held his head steady while I kissed him how id always wanted to kiss him; years of passion and desire and need all rolled up into one explosive, impossible-to-believe moment.

At first, he was limp in my embrace and I felt panic well in the pit of my stomach, had I just made a horrible decision? Then, his tongue was with mine and so were his lips and he was nipping and sucking with just as much vigor as I was.

Id never had a real understanding of what euphoria was until that moment. And of course, my dick was as hard as an unripe plantain at this point, he was basically sitting on it.

He was so soft in my arms, willing and pliant, like he wanted this, wanted me.

Jola’s arms wound around my shoulders and his whole torso was flush with mine, his hard thighs on either side of mine, straddling me.

How many times had I imagined this exact scenario on this very couch?

Then the shrill sound of my phone ringing tore us apart.

The sound continued to surge around us, an unwelcome visitor, as we caught our breaths.

I couldn’t meet his eyes, I was pretty sure my body was filled with every emotion known to man; fear, anxiety, impatience, joy.

Eventually he reached to the side and picked up my phone, and with a glance answered it.

It was the delivery man for the rice id ordered.

I didn’t know whether to be grateful or irritated.

Finally, I looked up at Jola as he spoke to the man through my phone, he would be distracted enough that I could read his expression.

Wrong.

He was looking straight at me, and though his face was plain, something burned in his eyes.

My body warmed again.

From the conversation, I inferred that the delivery guy was outside the door already. Jola gracefully un-straddled me and padded to the door to get our food.

I sat in the same position on the couch, staring at his lean body as he walked to the door; the long lines of his wide, lean shoulders, the dark furrow between the two vertical ridges of muscle on his back, the high, round globes of his ass, and his strong thighs and calves.

Fuck. Omo.

A minute later he was back, package in hand, which he placed on the space beside me.

Then he slowly climbed back into our previous position.

He straddled me again, and Jola was hard.

He was staring at me like he wanted to kiss me again, his hands felt almost feverishly hot where they rested on my biceps.

I said a quick thank you prayer to God for my personal trainer.

My head swam and the urge to kiss him was almost impossible to resist, but rationality spoke.

“Jola” my voice was strained, I did not what to be having this conversation when he was quite literally on me and wanted me, but I had to have some sort of clarity now. I wanted to think with my head, and not the one down there.

He sensed the seriousness of my tone and sat back, allowing some space between our torsos again.

It was almost a physical ache, having him move away from me.

Silence.

“You know we have to talk about this” I kept my voice low, soft; I was pretty sure I was the first man he’d ever kissed, and as much as I wanted to kiss him breathless, I had to be responsible about this.

Big exhale.

“Yes, Dotun, I know” he rolled his eyes skyward.

I felt a tiny bit of my anxiety lessen at the familiar gesture of faux irritation from him.

Easy does it, baby.

I said nothing, goading him to speak with my silence.

“I know your head is fat as hell right now” he was fighting a sheepish smile and his eyes were trained on the ceiling, refusing to meet mine.

My anxiety lessened more.

A laugh bubbled up in my throat, part relief and partly in response to what he had said, I laughed for several minutes, my body shook his with the force of my mirth, and soon he was laughing too.

It was sort of cathartic, this laughter; at the very least he didn’t hate me or wasn’t repulsed by me.

Soon we both fell silent, and this time the silence wasn’t as charged as it had been earlier, this time it flowed like warm water; I knew there was no rush, we could talk for as long as we liked, or even do other things.

My skin tingled and I fought the urge to pull him close again.

It was like Jola too felt the desire to touch me too, he placed his hands on my shoulders and slowly slid them down, over the sides of my arms, to my elbows, and then stopping to grasp my hands. His touch was tentative, feathery and warm.

I was surprised by how much this simple gesture filled my chest up with light.

I said nothing as he intertwined our fingers together, my hands were bigger and wider than his; back in school people had made me feel like a freak for being so tall and thick, but I was pretty comfortable with my body now, especially since I started working out. I liked the contrast between the sizes of our hands, and idly wondered if that feeling that was some weird masculine ego thing.

“Remember that time that I copied those training notes from you?” his eyes flicked up to my face and back down to our joined hands. He looked sheepish again and I wanted him.

I hummed an affirmative to his question, not exactly following because I was so distracted by him sitting in my lap.

“Yeah, so, I saw a gay novel in your documents” his voice was deep and had a tinge of humor. My face heated with embarrassment but I rolled my eyes and said nothing, urging him to continue.

He’d copied the book as well as the notes and read it.

“I copied the book and read it” his voice was a low murmur and he would not meet my eyes.

I knew it.

I said nothing, just squeezed his hands softly, to let him know that it was okay, I didn’t judge him, it wasn’t a big deal.

“Then I downloaded more and read those too” he looked up and laughed at himself shyly, and despite my surprise and an albeit smug sense of pleasure, I offered a gentle laugh in return, careful not to make it look or sound mocking or self-righteous.

“What was your favorite one? I’ve probably read it already” I said and chuckled.

Jola hummed and squinted his eyes in recollection. He didn’t seem conscious of his hands moving up and down my arms and shoulders and arms, stroking, squeezing, caressing. It was very distracting but I didn’t want him to stop.

“I really liked Alpha by Calico Trayce, hmm. That was a good one” he laughed.

“Hmm, that’s the one with the lost hiker and the guy that helps him in the forest, abi?” I asked, that was a really hot book, with a lot of scenes I’d imagined recreating with him. My chest warmed more.

“Mhm, yes” he nodded, “That’s my favorite”

“I could send you more if you like?” again, I kept my tone casual and soft. It wasn’t a big deal that a guy who had been straight for twenty-six years was now interested in kissing me (a man) and reading gay erotica. Not a big deal at all.

Jola just nodded, brown eyes vulnerable and open to me.

“I think I’m bisexual, Dotun” his voice was stronger and his eyes stayed on mine this time.

His confession had to be the best thing I’d heard in a very long time.

I couldn’t help myself from pulling him into a hug, and again, he melted into my embrace, like he wanted to be there.

Pretty heady stuff.

“I think I’m very gay, Jola” I whispered into his ear, breathing him in. he smelled like soap and skin and man.

Jola’s laugh shook the both of them.

“No shit, sherlock”

We laughed some more.

It was in that moment I knew that I could grow to love this tall, slim, beautiful man, and I wanted to love him, to be his person and have him be mine.

“I also have a huge crush on you, just so you know” my voice was casual, but my insides were anything but, what if this was purely sexual to him, just a way to discover his sexuality? What if he wanted to be with other people? I felt my breathing become shallow.

Silence.

More silence.

I began to unwind my arms from him.

There was no point in letting this go on if it was only attraction for him.

“I think I’ve always had a crush on you actually, I just didn’t feel it in a sexual way till recently.” His hand came up to my face and he cupped the side of it, halting my withdrawal, the heat of his hand felt so perfect against my skin.

My heart felt like it might burst out of my chest, it was careening around my ribcage like a canary.

“So, its not just you finding me hot?” my voice was low and uncertain, but I had to know.

His other hand came to rest on my left pec, just over my heart, and he leaned in as if to kiss me again.

“I like you too, Dotun”

Then he kissed me, his hand holding my head steady as he took control this time. the fact that he could feel the heavy thudding of my heart under his palm made me feel like we had a physical tether, like he could feel inside of me and feel how much I wanted him, wanted this.

i loved writing this. i dont know if ill ever continue anyways, but yeah.