Surge

I blew an amused puff of air out of my nose. “That sounds like the name of an album.”

“It does. I’ll need to write that down.”

“What’s the single? Gimme that song title.”

I felt him smile even though I couldn’t see it. For some reason, I wanted to confirm we were actually connected enough to know his smile was true. I pushed myself up against the headboard so we could make eye contact, and sure enough, a warm smile and eyes welcomed me.

“The single, my Fairy, is indecipherable. That’s why it’s a collective. I don’t know what keeps other people up at night. Maybe it’s one obsessive thought, but for me, what keeps me awake? It’s when my head is like a carousel gallery of thoughts, sliding across my mind’s eye, one right after the other, on shuffle.”

I circled the tip of my finger down the center of his abs. “So you can’t sleep?”

“I can’t believe I can’t sleep because I’m honestly so fucking tired. And that’s one of the stressful images in the carousel. I’m tired all the time now.”

“What else? Just shoot me with all the EPs.”

“Obviously the Jay thing. I’m not worried about making it out the other side anymore, but facing him in mediation won’t be fun. I’m thinking about how my mom is here alone, without me near now. I’m thinking about how to put a life together for us. I’m even experiencing new lyrics somewhere in there. But all these thoughts are happening within a current of sheer exhaustion. But I just can’t sleep.”

I’d already mentioned anxiety before. He hadn’t wanted to full-on admit that’s what was going on, but it sure as hell sounded like Drake’s problem. When you thought you had a million problems, you probably only had one—anxiety.

“Babe, you need to see a doctor. Dr. Sobel is…”

“What are they going to do?” He stiffened. “Give me pills?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing?”

He took my hand in his and dropped the defenses. “No. Course it isn’t. But I’m still in the stage where I don’t want to numb any of these thoughts even though it’s fucking with me. I just want to sleep.”

“There’s a pill for that, too.” Damn. Did I sound creepy? “It’s just that sometimes you need to reset, you know? It can be a vicious cycle, and just seeing a doctor, doing something temporary to restart your pattern… it could help. You do look tired, my love. Your skin and under-eyes. How long have you not been sleeping?”

“I don’t know. A month or so. Maybe longer. I don’t even know anymore.”

“That’s a long time.”

No wonder he hadn’t wanted to go up on stage. No wonder he’d had to sit down multiple times as we’d painted Nora’s kitchen.

Drake took my chin in his hand and pulled my lips to his, a kiss to soothe me, not him. “Don’t worry, little Fairy. I’ll be fine. It’s probably just anxiety over the case which will be out of our lives soon enough.”

This was true. Most likely, this was the impetus of Drake’s major stress. Whether Drake thought so or not, it was probably the single of the Late-Night Thought Collective album. He was about to bury a friend for good, and that came along with some negative feelings. Even though I was a vengeful person, I knew that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bury guilt six feet under even when your problem was supposed to be dead.

I let my fingers trail all the way down his body. A finger smoothed his dick which was soft but quickly responded with a twitch. “I know one natural cure for insomnia.”

I kissed his shoulder, making my way down, feathering light kisses down the length of his hot body. I enveloped my hand around his thickening cock. I kneaded it until it was hard enough to stroke and pump.

He observed me like a puma. “Wrap those lips around me, baby. Take me in slowly. Inch by inch.”

He watched me feed his thick cock into my mouth. His veins rumbled across my tongue, and I feasted on him until his tip hit the back of my throat.

“That’s a cure for anything, Fairy. You keep taking it like that and you’ll cure more than my insomnia.”

His ass clenched, raising his hips into me gently, and his dick surged deeper into my throat. I wanted it. I wanted him. The salty taste of his precum brought out the gluttony in me. I sucked harder, sealing my mouth against his tight, hard cock, running the length of my O-shaped lips along his shaft. I wanted to pull every ounce of stress out of him. Relieve him, if even just for a moment.

When the weight of his hand on the back of my head encouraged me to take him deeper, I complied, even though it had nowhere else to go. Every bit of my mouth was filled with his shaft. I took his balls in my hand and kneaded them firmly.

Suddenly, a tug at my hair. I released his dick and glanced up to meet his eyes.

“I want to be inside you. Sit on top of me and let your pussy do what your mouth did.”

He reached over to the nearby nightstand and grabbed a condom.