Let me drive you through the night [FM][Romantic][Noir]

Look, I know it isn’t really my place to offer this, we know each other well enough by now to know that you and I won’t find together. We have no shared future ahead of us, no house and kids and marriage.

What we have though is a friendship that runs deeper than most, and we have trusted each other with plenty of secrets that nobody else knows of. I know of your boyfriend troubles, you know of my problems trusting women, and as much as we try to work through them they remain issues in our respective lives. You even know a thing or two about the reasons for why I am like I am, and I know that knowing my secrets gives you the trust to share your own ones with me.

We are, despite all odds, a good match on the couch, one feet apart and yet somehow connected. We can drink together, talk throughout the night, and go home before either of us can get any weird ideas.

But tonight, we are both a step ahead of ourselves, a bit too lonely, a bit too tired after a day that has been too long to put an early end to it. I am in my couch, you in yours, and for some reason we picked up the phone and started having an old-fashioned call. I don’t know when I last called someone, and I can’t tell if it’s a little romantic or just a whole lot nostalgic to be sitting here, a glass of wine in one hand, the phone in the other.

But we aren’t really getting into it, the conversation flow I mean. There are pauses, thoughts trailing off that we could have finished if only we were actually together. And it shows, we both know it, and neither of us can find the right words that would allow me to hop into my car, fetch you, and take you on a drive to nowhere in particular. I mean, I could probably just offer, and you could just ask, and neither of us does.

And so our talk keeps trailing off, and we come dangerously close to just ending it, one of us making the mistake of calling the evening a night. But narrowly, we brush past, and somehow I find it in me to announce that I’ll do a quick drive to the gas station to get something to drink. We can keep talking if you don’t mind me a little distracted, as if distraction wasn’t our primary goal tonight. And sure, you say, that sounds like fun, just to keep you informed about what’s going on in the outside world.

I hop into my clothes, my car, put it into gear and us on the road. I keep you posted on the lamp posts that fly past, the random cop car that follows me for a bit before it, too, drifts into the distance and the past. I put you aside to dash into the store, come back out with beer that I can’t possibly tackle alone, but you don’t know that yet. I pick you up again, keep driving, and it’s only when I ask you if you ever heard of Ruckford Avenue that you realize where I’ve been driving to, and I can hear your chuckle. You’ll be out in five you say, and then you manage it in ten.

You slip into the passenger seat, dressed in a comfy sweater and leggins that look like you guys have become good friends over the years. The look on your face carries undertones of joy and weariness, of not knowing exactly why I came to your place and why you even left your comfy couch. And I would tell you, if only I knew.

This doesn’t feel like we are going on a date, or rather that if we were I would be actually and honestly scared. You and me, that can only lead down two paths, and the one where our friendship ends tonight is by far the least worrisome. The other path, that is Bonny and Clyde, maybe a bit of Romeo and Juliet stirred in, with a pinch of salt and vinegar. Someone’s gonna die, that much is sure, if either of us so much as slips.

No, this is definitely not a date we’re going on, this is just us going for a night drive through the city, finding a good place to get drunk enough for me to become unable to drive. I see us parked down by the piers, or up in the mountains, or maybe on a random large scale parking lot. Trying to sleep in a car seat never works, so we’ll have no choice but to stay awake and talk until the sun comes up.

We roll the windows down, let the cool night air flow in, and our thoughts flowing freely. It quickly gets too cold so we roll them up again, turn the heater up, wondering where this road leads that neither of us knows or even knows the name of. We have probably both been here, but who could tell in the darkness of the night, with the unwillingess to remember what we have yet to experience.

You crack open a bottle, hand it over to me and open one for yourself. We cling the bottles, take a sip, then take a left and a detour, and suddenly we are where we both knew we’d end up. There’s the sound of slow rolling waves, the rumble of the engine, and then silence as I shut it off.

We have beer for the night, the parking heater to keep us warm, and now there is a slight drizzle that ensures we will have this pier to ourselves for the remainder of the night. This would be sweet, romantic, if either of us dared allow it. We could lean back in our seats now, realize that this was just us two and nobody to judge anything we could possibly do or say.

And if this wasn’t you but virtually any other woman, I could tell you that I still have blankets and pillows in the trunk because I was restless recently, and spend a night or two parked out in nature, trying hard to bring some distance between me and reality. Some women would find that weirdly romantic, and some would find it creepy, and probably think I planned this ahead when in reality I am just realizing this now. Realize we could be lying there instead of sitting here, and do god knows what to one another. We could be lying there all cuddly, getting drunk without even touching the beer, traversing up and down on the ladder of what two friends are comfortable with.

We could be trying things with my fingers and your body, and I could try and walk things back each time we hit uncharted waters, unfamiliar grounds. We both know it wouldn’t work, but we would try and act like things that had been said or done could be brushed off as if they never happened.

You could act as if it was normal for us to be so close together, and I would in turn act like I was comfortable touching you anywhere, much less running my finger through your hair and over your cheek. You could put your arm around me, pull me closer, make it impossible for me to ignore the fact that you have curves and skin and a desire to be held and touched.

And we could wait this storm out together, hiding under the blanket and ensuring that only our faces stick out, and that anything we do underneath the blanket is hidden from anyone’s view. We could still be telling each other stories like we are now, but we could let our fingers do the talking, and our smiles be the answers to unspoken questions and unvoiced concerns.

And god knows that I would be too scared to try anything with you, and I would try and put it as a form of respect to avoid admitting that I am really just deathly afraid. And sure enough, you would find a way to ease my mind, to bring me down to earth and at the same time pull me up to your level and down into your arms. And my fingers would find their way down your spine, and have no choice but to take a teasing look underneath the fabric, all the while wondering if I would face any pushback for missteps so egregiously.

Of course you wouldn’t, you would lure me to go further and farther, to drop my guard as you were dropping yours. And together we would descend into a tired fury of foolishness and satisfy all our cravings, our hunger to touch and be touched. And eventually, we would have no other choice but to fall asleep, locked in each other’s embrace until the morning sun woke us up.

No, it’s really good that we are up in front here, with enough beer to bridge the gap and bring us through the night and into tomorrow, and that none of that is going to happen. Not at least unless you say something about being tired, your legs hurting, or maybe your back getting stiff from all the sitting. Not unless you make a move, or anything that opens up the door for me to make mine.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/qm5fhh/let_me_drive_you_through_the_night_fmromanticnoir