“This is a bad idea.” He muttered, unlocking the door and letting her inside. As she slid past him into the house, he glanced out at the night sky and could have sworn that the stars were dimmer than when he saw them last. He was still in a dark mood at that was only one of many reasons that letting her in wasn’t smart.
“It can’t be the worst.” She countered, stepping over the empty beer cans and pizza boxes. “I don’t even like beer.”
“Let’s argue about the mechanics of why I can do what the fuck I want in my own house regardless of whether you like it or not later.” He warned, his tone short but more exhausted than angry. As usual, the scene was metaphoric anyway. “You know I’m gay, right?”
“Oversexualized homosexual…” She murmured under her breath but he winced because he’d have heard it even if she hadn’t said it.
“I’m that easy to sum up, I guess.” He stepped back to lean against the couch arm behind him. He knew that he’d be sorry that he let her in but misery loves company and all that.
“He didn’t mean to insult you.” She blinked and her head turned towards him as if realizing what she’d said and that it was hurtful.
“Yeah, he did.” He shrugged and reached up to scratch head and fuck up his hair in nervousness. “We’re not here to talk about that.”
“No, we’re not.” She looked down at her hands a moment before steeling herself for what she wanted…needed to do. Then she took a deep breath and stalked towards him.
He sat on the arm of the chair, dark head bowed and eyes averted and when she stopped between his outstretched legs, he stiffened. “Wait.”
“What do you mean wait.” She demanded. “We’ve both done this before. Do you want me to be a man? Obviously, I can.”
“NO.” He hissed, gripping the edge of the couch arm tightly. “That would make it worse.”
“Then what?” Her voice softened, her hand coming up to curve against his cheek and then when he leaned away from her, curl into his hair and grip tightly to hold him in place.
The action caused his temper to flare. His hand came up and knocked her hand off of him, the sting of his scalp pleasant in its painfulness and that just pissed him off even more. “You’re forgetting your place. I’m not your bitch.”
“Then stop acting like it.” She spat, the fury at swallowing her insecurity while he was gone rising to the top.[To be Continued…]