FicWad

On returning home, I was quite shocked to see Patrick sat on the couch. At first, I’d forgotten all about what didn’t happen yesterday morning but then it hit me tenfold. I crimsoned, drenched with shame. Not just shame that it had happened, rather I was ashamed that I felt ashamed. I should feel like that, right? I mean, it’s not like it was a bad thing but it probably shouldn’t have happened. I could laugh it off as an accident and fix the situation but that just wouldn’t be me.

I sat down beside him, not saying a word. Silence strangling me, constricting my vocabulary and leaving nothing but the lost sounds that I couldn’t bring myself to construct into a sentence. Patrick himself couldn’t talk, just stare off into space, making this gap in conversation even lonelier than I’d expected. He cleared his throat and my eyebrows perked up, waiting for him to speak but I was left disappointed. Suddenly, as if he’d burst, a thousand things spilled from his mouth, all the things he was holding in.

‘Pete’ He blurted, ‘I have to talk to you… Look, what happened yesterday… it totally shouldn’t have happened. It was my fault… I was leaning too close to you and… It was all my fault and please don’t be all weird with me because I really don’t want you to be weird with me… I know you’re straight and I… It was a mistake...’

He sighed.

‘Nothing…’ His head drooped, like it was too heavy to hold up, ‘It was nothing…’

I wanted to stay quiet. Leave it as a nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I’m straight. He knows it. I know it. We all know it. I’m straight. I’ve had girlfriends. I don’t even think about guys like that. I’m definitely straight. Yep, I’m not gay at all. My brain repeated but my lips moved on their own. Patrick stared at me, eyes no more than slits. I watched his chest rise as he took in a deep breath.

‘Wha…t?’ He said slowly, holding his breath in anticipation

‘It…wasn’t…’ I repeat, looking at my knees, ‘…a…mistake…’

‘You were delirious!’ He tried to convince himself, ‘You were sick… Didn’t know what you were doing…’

I shook my head slightly, he didn’t see. He was suddenly very interested in the color of his shoes. He also didn’t notice when I stood back up and parked myself directly in front of him. He did, however, notice when I put my hand on his knee. His eye caught mine, teary for some reason.

‘Don’t…’ Patrick pleaded, but I couldn’t listen to him this time.

Leaning in closer until my knees were between his on the edge of the couch, I move my hand up to his shoulder. I was surprised to see fear in his expression. His arms were tight against his side.

‘Why…?’ I breathe, barely inches away.

There was a brief pause when I was waiting for his answer. It never came. I assumed this meant that he didn’t really object, so I took it as a sign that I had permission to continue. My hands shaking, not from withdraw symptoms for once, I cup his cheek in my hand and inhale slowly. I run my thumb over his soft, smooth skin and attempt to gain enough courage for the inevitable.

I couldn’t believe what I was doing. It was crazy. It was as if I was dreaming. Nothing felt real. Like any minute I might wake up again and start the day over. My eyes close, hoping he’d still be there when I open them again. My hand glides to the back of his head, running over the bump at the top of his neck. I gulp. This was it. His eyes were screaming.

Closing the gap between us was the easiest part. The way his lips felt. A memory from the day before but far more intense. A soft texture, quite dry but warm and plump. I was petrified but I wouldn’t show it. Patrick wasn’t so nonchalant. I could feel him trembling under me like he was possessed.

‘Mmmfmmm’ He cried out against my mouth, and his fingers gripped my hips.

He pushed me off him hard and scrambled to his feet trying to leave but I tried to stop him. In the middle of the hallway, not caring if anyone saw me, I chased after him. I was astounded by how fast he was moving as if he was totally adamant on getting away from me. To say the least, it wasn’t a good sign. I could hear his heavy breaths as I manage to finally catch him by the stairs. Seizing him by his forearms I pushed him quite brutally against the wall opposite the stairway. His face scrunched up and his arms flailed around, trying to push me off.

‘Patrick...’ I rumbled, slightly angry that he was so offish with me

‘Let me fucking go...’ He roared, thrashing about, loosening my grasp on him

Without warning, he’d gotten himself free and before I knew it his fist collided with my jaw. I fell to the floor like a rag doll. The look in his eye was enough to kill. Unapologetic, painful and biting. Without another word, he simply walked out of my view and towards the exit. I sat nursing my wounds. One hand over my bruised jaw and another over my bruised ego. I would’ve felt more anger towards Patrick if I wasn’t already focusing all my anger on myself.

I wasn’t gay. What the hell was I doing? Now not only was Patrick mad at me, he hated me. Hate. Real hate. The type where he was so disgusted with me, he didn’t just leave, he felt he had to punch me too. I must have deserved it. I’d never seen Patrick so angry before. As if I’d done something totally unforgivable. Why didn’t I listen? He told me not to and I ignored him.

Still on the floor in the hallway, I didn’t even feel like getting back up and dusting off my pride. I didn’t get it. Less than ten minutes ago Patrick was spilling his guts out like he felt he was the one who needed to apologize. How quickly it flipped to him literally fighting me off. I shut my eyes tight until I saw little sparks flying behind them. I was straight. I was sure that I was straight. I mean, I’d never found a guy to be attractive before in my life. Clearly, this couldn’t be true. Well, I wouldn’t have kissed Patrick twice in two days if I didn’t find him attractive right? His eyes though. Those two little orbs. I’d seen such passion in them when he spoke about music. Like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

I sighed. Taking my time on getting to my feet, now feeling entirely exhausted. I knew, even though I didn’t want to, I should probably say sorry to Patrick and at least attempt to get him to understand why I did it. In fact, I was even more confused by the way he responded. If I knew what I’d done wrong I could maybe make things right. I considered pursuing him further but perhaps giving him some time to calm down first might help.

I stumbled my way back to the empty apartment, Hemmy looking up at me with a sympathetic look. My heart sank. Even my dog knew something was up. A headache was boiling below the surface again. Yet, this one was different. It literally crippled me. Pulling me to the floor again. Dropping me to my knees with a whimper.

‘Fuck…’ I wail, Hemmy coming to my side and barking, concerned.

Dragging myself across the living room floor, I reach the bathroom. Clawing at the side of the bath, I pull myself up a little until I’m leaning over it. I wished Patrick hadn’t left. I wished I was back in bed. Anywhere but here. My body convulsing and a bitter taste at the back of my throat, I curl into a ball. Pulling my knees up to my chest, tears dousing my thighs as I beg for this to stop. It always seemed to hit me when I was at my worst.

I wanted something. Something to take away the pain. It’d rather feel nothing at all than feel this pain. I wanted Atavan. I needed Atavan. Heaving my body forward to the base of the sink, I pause in an attempt to prepare myself to stand. Taking an unsteady hold of the top of the sink, I manage to haul my body up until my chest is balancing dangerously on the very edge of the sink. Reaching up, like a child trying to get something from a high place, I pull the door of the medicine cabinet open and clutch the bottom shelf. When I heard it creak hazardously it was already too late to save myself. With a thunderous crash the entire cabinet came down on top of me. Glass shatters, skin tearing, blood spilling. My eyes closed and my mind wandered.