Haven’t posted any original writing in here in forever, so here’s something I wrote a few months back. Totally nothing to do with the novel, although this character will most likely turn up in some future project. So enjoy…

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The Cuddler

You sigh about five minutes after you fall asleep.

Everyone does.

It starts at the top of your chest with a purpose and force, and collapses down your body toward the tips of your lungs. Then for about a second you are perfectly still, until you softly inhale again and continue breathing normally.

You probably never noticed it. Of course, you can only notice it when you’re in bed with someone else and they fall asleep first. You never hear your own sigh. Most people dismiss it as a random occurrence, or a quirk. You really have to sleep with a lot of different people before it kicks in that the sigh happens to everyone.

Most people fixate on the heart of the person they are in bed with. The other person’s skin always seeming warmer than your own. Cuddling before bed with your ear on their chest, using the core of their life as a metronome to guide you to sleep. Th-thump, th-thump.

Lying perfectly still. Not trying to turn the intimacy into passion. Just contentment and solace.

It will be the same tomorrow night, and the night after that. Only minor details will change. He might have a hairy chest tomorrow. Sometimes they listen to my heart, but not usually. The script is always the same, though. They reply to my ad, say they would like to fall asleep cuddling up next to someone, and our next encounter is when they open the door.

Going to their place usually establishes our roles better. That they will lay down on their usual side of the bed, leaving me to slide in next to them and eventually rest my head on their chest.

None of my friends understand and, well, it just doesn’t come up in our conversations anymore. Everyone wants it to be sexual and, sure, there are certainly guys who reply to my ad that think the same thing. But it is just about that moment, surrendering that trust and connecting with someone else on a deeper level. It’s practically non-verbal.

As for the nudity, that is usually up to them. If they leave their boxers on, or take them off, then that is how it plays out. But it’s been months of this now, and it has never turned sexual. That might be a lot of luck on my part, or just some instinctual way of filtering through my e-mail to pick the right people. That is the part where most people get confused.

Two gay guys. Strangers. Nudity. Bed. Intimacy. It does seem like a recipe for sex. That, even if no such prior plan even existed, as soon as you’re both naked in the room, everything would just naturally flow down that path. But it doesn’t and never has. On paper, it does look obvious and simplistic. The elements are all there.

But the relationship, if anything, seems post-coital. My arrival starting when most guys would be gathering their things and heading home for the night.

There are things you have to watch for, though. Kissing breaks the mood. In some sense, we both know we are not intimate. The spell can only exist when we avoid things that would suggest a specific intimacy. You can rub your hands across their chest, but going south of their navel pulls them out of the moment. It stops being a feeling and suggests a person, then a stranger. You can kiss whatever nipple is closest, lightly, but that’s as far as it should go. Once again, lips humanize the feelings too specifically.

My role, when my ear is pressed to their chest, is to love them. Their role is to feel loved. It’s really just therapy, or helping us to avoid therapy longer. Any problems and concerns disappear in that moment for both of us. It is one of those rare events where time does seem to stop, the beating of their heart the only clue it hasn’t.

As for the sigh, that is always the moment where it seems they have achieved both sleep and contentment. Whatever happened in their day, whoever they were before opening their apartment door, all of these things that don’t concern me, all disappear.

To be fair, everyone sighs in that same moment, and in the same way. So it might be projection that every single guy finds contentment in that exhale. But it’s a thought that works for me, and it doesn’t hurt anyone for me to keep it. You don’t have to believe it.

When they wake up, they will be alone. Our time together will seem like a dream. Whether they flashed back to a past love, or held onto me as a placeholder for something in the future, it doesn’t matter.

My own feelings are less clear. Part of the reason is that reflection seems to cheapen it. For me, it is all about being there. His heart thumping softly in my ear. His chest warming the palm of my hand. That final sigh barely fluttering through the top of my hair. It is the moment where no questions exist. Everything makes sense.

And sleeping alone after that isn’t lonely.

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