It wasn't the first time this happened. And it probably wouldn't be the first time you finished the day in Michael's arms.

Kaiser was the last name he gave you the first time you two met. But Michael was the name that ruined you for the rest of the world after he inevitably left his mark in you.

What started as a plaything, just a little fling you both did to keep boredom outside of the room you shared the first time, ended as something recurrent. Maybe he kept calling because you never asked questions, never prodded and attempted to picked apart his every word in hopes for something else. Maybe you kept coming back to him because his hands just had the right weight against your skin in ways no one else had done so. Maybe you both got used to the routine. The way he'd call, you'd answer and obey, come to him, spend the night together surrounded by sheets and posh sheets of hotels and motels that kept matters private, and then parting ways without much warmth between goodbyes.

Regardless of the reason you stopped looking for and the answers you wouldn't get; it kept happening.

Even now, after your definite departure from each other after you had decided this was going nowhere and it was better to end things, there were still some nights that were still spent, wasted, with him.

Except now, you were the caller, and he was the one who answered and let you climb in his bed with open arms yet again.

It was just impossible to stay away when you were both far too used to each other, even if you were ruining each other for anyone else that might appear in the future.