8 mins.
Alcohol was definitely playing a big role tonight. The things Chris did to hide what they were doing hurt him, but he had accepted them. However, right now, he didn’t care about the terms and conditions of their arrangement.
6 mins.
As he waited for the car on the street around the corner where he’d been designated to be picked up, the bassist lit his cig, focusing on the chemicals burning his lungs.
Marc couldn’t believe he had been so naïve as to think that getting physical with Chris wouldn’t make him greedy. That he would be okay with just sex and nothing else.
Two weeks. Two fucking weeks was all he’d needed to have the first thorn puncturing his heart. How could he be so stupid? While he was fine with the lack of public displays of affection—he had never been one to be all over his partners when they were out—the way his friend had reacted was irritating. But why was he all worked up? The guitarist had been clear from the start; he wasn’t ready to come out, didn’t know if or when he would be.
Tossing the stub of his cig on the ground and stomping on it, Marc let out one last cloud of smoke. He looked at his phone to check where the hell his Uber was.
1 min.
He was feeling so uncomfortable right now. All he wanted was to arrive home and tuck himself into bed. At least if he were sleeping, he wouldn’t be thinking.
Tomorrow will be a new day.
When the car finally stopped in front of him, Marc sat in the back and tossed a dry hello. Once he closed the door, a hefty sigh left his lungs.
Maybe it was better to stop things before they reached any further and he got hurt. Yeah,he—Chris seemed to be going with the flow, like always. For him, it probably wouldn’t be that big of a deal if they dropped this act and went back to only being friends. He could find himself another dick to experiment with.
Marc’s heart writhed.
For the last three years, he had been fine with loving Chris from a distance. Knowing he would never see him like a partner had made it easy. But now he’d opened that door, and even if it was confidential, his friend seemed to enjoy the touch of a man. The idea of watching him fall for someone hurt, but the possibility that it could be another dude when Marc had been by his side all along... That shit was beyond lacerating.
Mentally exhausted when the car pulled up in front of his building twenty minutes later, Marc tapped on the app to tip the driver and got out, heading to the entrance with a blank stare fixed on his feet. That was when he looked up and saw Chris. He was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and helmet in hand.
“What are you doing here?” Marc asked, fishing for the keys in his pocket.
“I don’t like how the conversation ended,” the guitarist said as he stood beside him. “You’re disappointed. I get it.”
Marc could feel his eyes on him, but he didn’t want to look back.
“I know that was kinda… offensive, the way I reacted.”
“Yeah.” The bassist opened the door and walked inside. “Where are you going?” he practically barked when Chris followed him.
“We’re not leaving things like this.”
The bassist snorted, turning to him. “You want to talk? That’s new.”
“I don’t want to, but—Listen, my reaction before, it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”
“Are you seriously gonna give me that bullshit speech?”
“It’s not bullshit. I’m just too jumpy when Erik is around and I overreacted.”
“I’m drunk, dude,” the bassist said as he turned away and walked up the stairs to his apartment. “I gotta sleep it off to not die tomorrow at work. Don’t think this is the best moment to talk.”
“You can’t be drunk. You’ve barely had four pints.”
He wasn’t. Hardly even tipsy since he’d seen the guitarist waiting for him. That had shocked his guts. “Whatever. I’m not feeling good. Besides, I’m done talking. Hooking up shouldn’t be this hard.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
It was past midnight. Their footsteps and voices were the only things filling the silence in the building. They were almost echoing, resonating in Marc’s ears together with his heartbeats.
