They had known each other for years.
Their link had been strengthened by a blind acceptance of each other’s flaws and their avid interest in contributing to each other’s emotional growth.
Love came to them very easily, it was clear they revelled in each other’s translucent vulnerability. Gender roles or expectations had never mattered to them, it was more that which exists within the unshakable subconscious, and every time they fucked it always felt experimental.
Occasionally they would fight for dominance, sometimes they’d give in and unlatch ready to break and be put back together. There was always an element of power exchange that bound them, allowing them to access their emotional intelligence, process jealousy or insecurity, or bring them closer together during a more detached period. What they shared between them was real intimacy but occasionally it felt very much like a game. Their favourite game. A game they quickly learned had very few rules especially when their primal brains took control. They would learn and unravel many layers every time they played it and there was no fear of losing, no yearning for victory.
They always won, each other lost in one another.
Often they would struggle and sweat for hours, culminating in deep self-reflection. Sex and kink served them beyond satisfying basic physical needs. Their minds and sex were able to merge, their identities felt refined; it wasn’t chemistry, it was alchemy.
That afternoon their room felt warmer than usual. They had been out the night before, consequently spending most of their day in bed the following day. A light fog took over their brains, they trialled eloquence and discerning dialogue but laugh came after laugh as they struggled to find sense in what they said.
The sunlight was gentler now, still touching some of their indoor plants and the duvet went back and forth as they tried to regulate their body temperature, to no avail. Their skin was sticky and honeyed, at last stripped. They had started kissing tentatively. There were many different ways he’d moan as they grew aroused. His moans would trigger something within her and after so many years she could read them and dial her response to match his, a power he shared. They retained a lot of knowledge about one another, primarily about body language and the intention behind it.
Reading him accurately despite being perpetually sleepy, she tilted her head towards the floor beside their bed, inviting him to relocate himself, knowing that bringing him physically below her would bring him to submit. The game had started.