THE DIFFERENT KIND OF LOVE

CHAPTER2.1 THE ODYSSEYOF RECOLLETION

He gets into his car and rampages through the car for his pills. He needs the anxiety he feels to go away. The pain, the need, and the yearning. He wants it all to go away. He finds the familiar small white bottle in the back seat of the car, opens it frantically, and swallows two or maybe more. He doesn't know. He is used to taking the pills and thinks they won't affect him. But not this time. Not only does the anxiety not go away, but also the dizziness doubles.

He turns the ignition keys, and the engine comes to life. He slams the car door shut, steps onto the gas, and drives off.

The driver trembles as Sam drives away. The speed of the car is so high that he fears for him. He takes out his phone and calls. ''He is doing it again,'' he reports. There is no reply from the other end, but the phone call is abruptly cut off.

Sam speeds away in his Maybach, the choking feeling suffocating him. He wakes up the following day. After the violent scene, he wakes up in a white room, horrified, his whole body bandaged. His lips were swollen from the blow he received after hitting his face on the stirring wheel. The last thing he remembers is his eyes closing and opening to bright lights coming right at him. Heavy rain with lightning and thunder, then nothing.

He had swerved abruptly away from the road and directly into an electrical utility pole, causing the power line to fall. The sudden surging forward caused him to hit his head on the steering wheel. He had suffered a concussion and blacked out.

''What great luck this young man has,'' the police officer on site exclaimed, shocked at the sight of the wrecked car. Sam’s blood mixed with red mud made the scene look gruesome.

The car rolled multiple times, and the police were shocked that Sam was neither dead nor heavily injured, just with a concussion and a few cuts. He was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.

Edward had arrived right after the ambulance drove off to the hospital. Shaken and breathing heavily, he looked at the wrecked car, and a tear dropped from his eye. He quickly wiped it off; he couldn't let anyone see him weaken. He turns to the police on the site and asks in a cold, calm voice.

''Is he alive?''

Sam feels the butterflies in his stomach and the tingling on his skin at his touch. He was in a dark room with dim lights. A man held him in his embrace. He couldn’t see his face, but he knew it was him. The one he loved. ''You got taller.'' He could feel the familiarity in his outline, the deep tone in his voice erupting from the darkness.

He came back for him. Excitement clouds his reasoning, and he moves closer into his arms. He could hear his heart pounding faster and louder. Breathing heavily from his touch. He felt too good.

The man gently runs his thumb along Sam’s lips, then gently rubs his cheeks. Sam willingly leans into his palm, craving to feel more of his warmth. The man’s gaze drops to his lips, and he wets his lips, craving more.

The man leans down and claims his mouth with deep yearning. Their tongues tangle in sync. He takes control, he dominates, making Sam's knees weak. He tasted like vanilla, hot and sweet. Sam feels himself blush red from the heat. His eyes glazed with tears, aroused and confused.

''Kiss me,'' he begs for more as sweetness floods his senses. ''Kiss me.'' He mumbles.

He holds Sam's face in his palms and stares into his eyes with deep desire.

Sam swallows with anticipation, watching as his dark eyes drop to his neckline. His toes curl at the sweetness that explodes from within, his breath hot on his neck as he sucks on his neck. The man leads Sam’s right hand and presses it into his crotch, where he is hard and aching for him.

Straining for more, Sam rose on tiptoe, and he could feel it. Sam was straining. The man easily lifts his legs, holding them around his waist, and holds him against the walls. His tongue finds its way into his mouth, explores, and plunders his mouth. His hands stroke Sam's lower back, bringing him closer. His erection nudged between his thighs, and he lost his breath. It felt so real, hard, and good against him, filling up all the void, pushing away the loneliness. He wraps his arms around him, allowing him more access. Sensation goes through him like lightning with an irresistible pressure to surrender his whole being to him. He was wet and open, begging to be relieved.

He moves towards the bed, his darkened eyes on Sam, serious like a predator ready to devour his prey. He gently lets Sam sit on the bed and takes his mouth again in another deep kiss, greedy and hungry. Sam feels alive. He yanks his shirt off. As he lies on Sam, his skin is hot. It feels just right. His hands are all over Sam’s body, just the right places that bring out the sweetest sensations.

His hands are strong, rubbing through Sam’s trousers, cupping and caressing until he feels lost.

He makes Sam sit on him, his hands warmly stroking his back, his face heated. Sam stares down at him as his fingers work their way into his clothes. He doesn’t resist; he lets him. He gently sets him aside and slides to his knees in front of Sam, his hands on his hips, and pulls him closer. He pulls his trousers off.

He licks his inner thighs, and Sam’s mind gets blown away. He couldn’t say anything. His mind goes blank.

He felt strained in his mouth as the pressure built inside him. He twitches and twitches until he comes over and over in his mouth.

''It’s not over yet.'' His deep voice cuts across the room as he climbs on the bed, wiping the white liquid from his mouth. He was breathing hard, his chest warm and damp with sweat. Sam runs his fingers against his solid chest, then stops at his heart. It's pounding fast.

He grabs his hips, brings him closer, and Sam braces himself. He could feel his hard erection, rubbing him, pressing him, sliding and gliding along the cleft of his buttocks. He stiffens. This was it, panic with excitement. He wraps his hands around him.

He felt his arms tightly gripping around his waist, his chest solid on him, his fingers digging into his flesh. He felt him move, surging up in between his thighs. And then, as he plunged thick and hot inside him, Sam anticipated the pain and sweet sensation, then nothing. He woke up.

Cherished, loved, then morning came and reality crushed in. He inhales and exhales heavily, his right hand instinctively latched onto his chest. He can still feel the rapid heartbeat and the pain. It felt so real, even in his dreams. Awake abruptly from the same dream. His silky purple pajamas stuck to his skin, soaked with sweat. He takes it off and swirls it somewhere on the floor. He opens his eyes wide and yawns. He can't tell if it's because he is too lazy to get out of bed or hungry, as he missed dinner last night. Five years later, he still dreams of the young man but can never picture or remember his face clearly, but he knows that if they ever meet again. He will know.

He remembers his dark gray, intense eyes and the deep desire they held while gazing into his. The soft touch of his lips against his and his strong arms, which held him up so easily and very gently, like a precious gem. The sweet memories they shared, of which he longed to feel again. Countless times, he had woken up startled, choking on that familiar feeling of abandonment. He always felt like that each time he woke up from that dream. Breathless.

His king-sized room, decorated with purple satin curtains and flowers, is well-lit with the morning sun streaks, which helps to numb that feeling with its bright ambiance. The big high window is slightly opened as usual, letting in a cold breeze. He liked it, especially the fresh scent of flowers from the lavish garden just beneath his window outside their castle-like mansion.

He yearns to see him again and appease his longing heart. He feels terrible about the sudden separation; they hadn’t even exchanged names yet, and he had just disappeared without a trace. He longs for that sweet sensation he felt whenever he held his hand, and the deep connection he felt when he had claimed my lips.

He lies back in bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling, too lazy to get out of bed, and his memories come bubbling back into his mind vividly like yesterday from his conscious memory to find the reason why. He travels back, in his mind, to where it all began. Under the umbrella tree, with a cold, nice afternoon breeze on a very hot summer day.