People tended to take everything for granted, but for him, these moments where it was just the four of them, drinking and talking nonsense, were restoring like nothing else. Probably some of the best at the end of a hard-working day.
Inching closer to Chris to reach for their stuff piled up on the table beside him, Marc said, “I’m gonna—”
“Not here.” The guitarist stiffened, looking in the opposite direction as he brought the drink to his lips.
Marc flashed him a nasty glare when he grabbed his hoodie, the mood shifting completely. He was in a cloud where the possibilities about the future of their career as musicians were floating around him, and now one of his eyes was twitching with anger. The alcohol in his system was probably increasing the uneasiness such a gesture had caused, but it still stung.
He was fine with just sex and beers. He could deal with the secrecy. But he didn’t like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. One moment Chris was devouring him and the next keeping a safe distance, as if he’d been infected with Z-virus and was about to become a zombie.
“I wasn’t going to kiss you.”
“Sorry,” the guitarist mumbled without looking at him.
“Yeah, sure,” the bassist countered, getting his pack of tobacco from the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie. “It’s not the first time you’ve acted all defensive and weird tonight.”
“What?”
“Before, when I put my hand on your lower back, you brushed it away.”
Chris huffed. “Don’t get mad, dude. It’s just—After the fight we had in July and how Erik snapped at us, I feel self-conscious about all this when he’s around.”
“Don’t blame it on him. It was the same when we were just hanging out with Leah two weekends ago.”
“It wasn’t. Well, maybe it was. Kinda. I stood most of the time away from you, but then in the apartment we—”
“You think I’m so desperate I can’t control myself?” Marc scoffed. “Nice,” he said, plucking a cig with his lips. “Real fucking nice.”
“It’s not like I’m rejecting you. I just don’t feel comfortable getting all handsy around other people. Nothing new there. Why are you taking it so seriously?”
Even though loud music was blasting and most of the patrons were standing near the bar or playing darts, the bassist should have taken this as an advance. Chris hadn’t been brave enough to discuss their relationship in public before. But he was pissed off. After the last two weeks they had spent sucking each other’s faces and cocks, and sexting like pubescent boys, Marc didn’t expect him to avoid every minimal contact. It was exasperating.
“Because I agreed to keep this a secret, even if I have no issues with the entire world knowing. Yet you don’t trust that I’ll respect your wishes.”
“Come on, dude. That’s not it.”
“Ah, no? Then what is it? Why did you think I was going to kiss you or whatever it was you thought I was gonna do?”
“I honestly don’t know what I thought you were going to do. I just saw you coming so close and I… I freaked out, alright? Didn’t even think. Just reacted.”
“That makes it a lot better,” Marc said as he saw Erik and Leah approaching.
“Smoking again?” She gave him the scolding mom’s stare.
The bassist didn’t know what bit him at the moment, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t think before he acted.
“I’m leaving.”
“Already?” the drummer asked.
“Yeah, sorry. It’s been a long-ass day and I’m tired. I promise I’ll be a more decent human on Wednesday.”
“Okay…”
The bassist gave him a side hug, then did the same with Leah, awkwardly repeating it once more with Chris. He didn’t miss the worried look the guitarist had on his face, but he needed some space.
Putting on his hoodie, Marc grabbed his backpack, and with a fake smile and a wave of his hand, he left his bandmates behind.
As he walked outside, opening the Uber app, disappointment perched on his soul.
