Something Heavier

18+

2007.
We were walking through the backstreets of Tel Aviv, messing around like always, throwing insults and jabs. You shoved me into a wall, laughing, but there was something different in the air – something… heavier.

I pushed back, harder than before, stepping right into your space, close enough to feel your breath on my skin. You tried to laugh it off, but your eyes betrayed you. I could see the way you were holding back, the way you wanted more but didn’t dare take it.

I leaned in, voice low. “What, you scared?”

Your smirk wavered for a second, but you forced it back. “You’re f…..g kidding yourself.”

I didn’t give you a chance to back out. My hand was already on the back of your neck, pulling you in, lips crashing into yours before you could think. It was rough, hard, like we were both trying to get at something deeper. You froze, just for a second, then kissed me back, almost desperate, like you’d been waiting for this longer than you could admit.

Your body pressed into mine, and I felt the heat between us, the tension that had been building all this time. My hands slid down your back, gripping tight, pulling you even closer. You groaned into my mouth, and that sound lit something inside me – something raw.

I pushed you harder against the wall, lips trailing down your jaw, biting, teasing, testing how far I could push.

You didn’t stop me. You wanted this. You needed it.

“Still think I’m f…..g kidding myself?” I whispered, my lips brushing your ear, my hand slipping under your t-shirt, feeling the heat of your skin.

You didn’t answer, just gripped my shirt, fingers unsteady, your breath ragged, your body tense with everything you were holding back.

I pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, daring you to admit it, to say it. “Tagid li she'ata lo rotze et ze!”*

You swallowed hard, staring at me like you were torn between anger and need. Then you grabbed me, pulling me into another rough kiss…

I pulled away, breathing hard, eyes locked on yours. “So am I kidding myself or not?”

You wiped your mouth, glaring, but you didn’t push me away. “F… you.”

I let out a low laugh.




*Tagid li she'ata lo rotze et ze! (ивр.) – Tell me you don’t want this!