Whispers in the Dark

Cody POV

I flop onto my lumpy couch at 2 a.m. My apartment’s dark, just a streetlight glowing through the cracked blinds. My head’s still spinning from that kiss. Ryan’s lips. His hands. That call from his manager I saw on his dropped phone. I kick off my sneakers and stretch out, staring at my wrist. His number’s smudged there, black ink blurry from sweat. I can’t sleep. My heart won’t slow down. I grab my phone off the floor. The screen’s scratched, but it works. My thumb hovers over the keys. I want to hear him. Bad.

I type fast before I chicken out. “Hey, it’s Cody. Can’t sleep.” My stomach twists as I hit send. I toss the phone next to me and wait. My legs bounce. Minutes drag slow. Maybe he’s asleep. Maybe he’s mad about his phone. I groan and rub my face. Then it rings. Loud in the quiet. His name lights up the screen. Ryan Maddox. My breath catches. I snatch it up and answer quick.

“Hey,” I say, voice rough from nerves.

“Hey, dancer,” he says back. His voice is husky, low, like he just woke up. “Me neither.”

I grin, sinking deeper into the couch. “Your fault. You got me all worked up.”

He laughs soft. It’s warm, sleepy. “Good. What’re you wearing?”

My face heats up. I look down at myself. “Old tee. Boxers. Real sexy, right?”

He growls low. “Fuck yeah. Sexy as hell.” His words hit me hard. My whole body tingles. The line crackles a little, like he’s shifting in bed. I picture him there, shirtless maybe, hair messy. It makes me squirm.

“You?” I ask, biting my lip.

“Same. Just boxers. Thinking about you.” His voice drops deeper. My heart skips. I laugh, shaky, trying to keep it light.

“Guess we’re a mess,” I say.

“Yeah,” he says. “A hot mess.” He pauses. I hear him breathe slow. “Tonight was crazy.”

I nod, even though he can’t see. “Yeah. That kiss. I can’t stop replaying it.”

“Me too,” he says. “Your lips are stuck in my head.”

My chest feels tight. I swallow hard. “Ryan, I’ve never… fallen for a guy this fast.” My voice shakes. I feel dumb saying it, but it’s true. My hand grips the phone tighter.

He’s quiet for a second. Then he says, “I’m scared, Cody. Scared to be real. With you.” His tone’s raw, like he’s peeling something open. It hits me deep.

I don’t know what to say. My throat’s dry. I just listen to him breathe. The silence stretches, heavy but good. Then he whispers, “Touch yourself for me.”

My eyes go wide. My breath stops. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, voice low and filthy. “Touch yourself. Like I would.”

I hesitate. My hand shakes as it slides down my chest. My boxers feel tight already. “Okay,” I mumble. I slip my fingers under the waistband. My skin’s warm. I gasp soft when I touch myself.

“Slow,” he says. “Like I’d do it.” His voice guides me, smooth and dirty. “Feel me there.”

I close my eyes. I picture his hand instead of mine. Long fingers. Warm grip. I move slow, like he says. My breath hitches. “Ryan,” I whisper. It’s all I can get out.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m here.” He’s breathing faster now. I hear it through the phone. Rough. Needy. “I’m doing it too. Thinking about you.”

My heart pounds. I speed up a little. My moans slip out, soft and shaky. I can’t help it. His groans mix with mine, low and deep. “Cody,” he says, voice thick. “You sound so good.”

“You too,” I pant. My whole body’s hot. Sweat beads on my forehead. I imagine him on his bed, hand moving, eyes shut tight. It pushes me closer. “Ryan, I’m…”

“Me too,” he says quick. “Together. Come on.” His voice breaks a little. It’s enough. I lose it. My back arches off the couch. A loud moan rips out of me. I hear him groan hard, rough and long. We’re synced, falling apart together over the phone. My hand slows. My chest heaves. I’m shaking, dizzy.

We don’t talk for a minute. Just breathe. Heavy. Then he laughs, sleepy and soft. “Wow.”

I laugh too, weak. “Yeah. Wow.” My voice is hoarse. I wipe my hand on my shirt and sink back. My body feels heavy, good.

“That was hot,” he says. “You’re hot.”

“You’re not bad,” I tease. My grin hurts my face. I feel light, like I’m floating.

He yawns. “Wish you were here. In my bed.”

My stomach flips. “Me too,” I say quiet. “Next time.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Next time.” He sounds happy. Tired. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” I say. “Night, Ryan.”

“Night, dancer,” he says. The call ends. I drop the phone on my chest. My heart’s still racing, but slow now. I stare at the ceiling, smiling like an idiot. His voice echoes in my head. Low. Filthy. Sweet. I’m hooked. Bad.

I pull a blanket over me. My eyes get heavy. I’m almost asleep, drifting off with his taste still in my mind. That kiss. This call. Him. My phone’s warm against my skin. I hug it close, like it’s him. Sleep pulls me under. I dream of his hands. His lips. His laugh.

Then my eyes snap open. Something buzzes. I sit up fast, blanket falling off. My phone’s dark. It’s not that. I look around, confused. My heart picks up again. The buzz comes back. Loud. Close. I stumble off the couch, legs shaky. It’s my door. Someone’s knocking. Hard. Fast. I freeze. My clock says 2:30 a.m. Who’s here? My throat goes dry. I step closer, barefoot on the cold floor. The knocks get louder. Urgent. I reach for the knob, hand trembling. “Who is it?” I call, voice cracking. No answer. Just more banging. My stomach twists tight. I turn the lock slow, crack the door an inch. A face peers through. My breath stops. Ryan’s voice whispers, “Cody, let me in.”