I sat up in my bed. "Are you okay?" I asked him after he shut the door.
"I'm fine!"
"Good, I was worried about you."
"Why?" He stepped further in to the room and I could smell the alcohol.
I grabbed my nose. "Did you bathe in it? Ugh!"
"I asked you a fucking question!" he shouted. "Why were you worried about me?"
I released my nose. "Because I love you." I thought he would calm down but telling him I loved him only served to change the expression on his face. The scowl was gone and a look of confusion took over. I stood up and he walked towards me. His face changed again and I saw tears in his eyes. I opened my arms and he fell in to them and I honestly believed everything was okay. He pushed me away and I fell on my bed.
"I hate you!"
`Not again,' was the first thought that entered in my head. "No you don't," I said as I stood up.
"Yes I do!" He threw a punch at my head, but the alcohol had him moving a little slowly so I was able to step out the way. That must have pissed him off because he attacked me with a flurry of punches.
His behavior upset me. I was trying to help him, and he was trying to beat me. My mind shut off for a minute and my reflexes took control. I hit him back and the fight was on. We ended up wrestling on the floor. At some point he had me pinned, with his forearm pressed against my neck.
"I need the room," he said.
"Huh?"
"I told Rachel I would call her when I got you out. I need the room."
"You what? Who?"
"I need to fuck someone."
My first thought was, `You can fuck me.' "What?" I asked him as my anger became that of a slighted lover. I wiggled my arm free from between us and reached up and slapped him across his face. "What?"
"Are you deaf? I'm having company, so get your shit and get out. I'm going to need some privacy!"
"Why are you doing this?" My anger was gone. All I felt was hurt and emptiness. I wanted to help him and he wanted to leave me. The tears fell like a waterfall.
"Because I hate you."
"You don't hate me! You love me! I know you do! You have to!"
He moved his forearm off my neck and put his hands next to my head like he was going to do a pushup. The fight was over. I wiped my eyes and looked up at him. He lowered his body on top of me and looked in my eyes. "I don't love you," he whispered. I knew he was trying to convince himself.
My head told me he didn't mean it, but I still felt the pain. My heart cracked a little. "Yes you do," I whispered back. I rolled us over so I was on top and I kissed him. He kissed me back. I broke the kiss and gently nibbled on his neck before whispering in his ear, "I know you love me." He didn't respond so I kept going. I worked my way down his body and I pulled down his pants and his boxers. I knew it was wrong but I wanted to make him happy and I wanted him to forget about Rachel, whoever she was. I put my lips around the tip of his dick and lowered my mouth. He moaned in pleasure. I sucked him for a few minutes before he pushed me off and changed our positions. He was on top of me, pushing his dick in and out of my mouth. It was okay at first, but somewhere in the middle, things changed. He picked up the pace and pushed in deeper. He knew I couldn't take all of him, but he didn't seem to care. I gagged a few times as he forced his dick down my throat. By the end, he was fucking my mouth with such anger and force that my head was being banged on the floor each time he thrust in and out. He finally came, and I swallowed. He took his dick out of my mouth.
"Clean it," he demanded. I stuck out my tongue and did as he told me. When I was finished cleaning it, he stood up and pulled his boxers and pants back up.
I stayed on the floor, feeling dirty and used. I watched as he grabbed a bag and put a few items of his clothes in it. "Where are you going?" I asked.
"Away from you. I can't stand to look at you!" He zipped up the bag, "You can have the damn room! We'll go somewhere else."
"What about the game?"
"I'll be there. Now stop talking to me."
"Why?" He ignored me and walked towards the door. "Why?" He walked out the door and slammed it shut. I was on the floor, crying. `Why did he do this? How could he do this? Did I do this? Was it my fault?' I wondered. I didn't have the energy to get off the floor, so I laid there for hours, thinking.
My head hurt and my lips were sore from the beating they took, but the pain was of no concern to me. All I could think about was what happened. He used me. Maybe he didn't love me,' I thought, and that's when the flood hit me, Maybe I loved him too much. Maybe I loved him more than he loved me. Maybe we weren't meant to be. Our relationship could never last. He didn't know how to love. He needed too much help. Why did I go down on him? What was I thinking? Of course he wasn't ready for that. It was my fault. I pushed him too hard and then I tried to have sex with him just to stop him from having sex with somebody else. I deserved what I got. I was lucky he didn't try to kill me. That proved that he loved me. Yeah. He loved me. He had to.'
I thought about him a little longer before I decided to peel myself off the floor. I walked to my bed and got in it, hoping that the covers would hide me from reality. I fell asleep and I dreamed that it was all a nightmare and I would wake up in Lionel's arms where I belonged. The dream felt so real that I woke up looking for Lionel and almost cried when I didn't see him and knew everything had actually happened. Dragging myself out of bed was the hardest part of that day. I called Michael.
"Hello." The sound of his voice made me think everything would be okay. He always made things better.
"He left me, Michael. It's over."
He sighed. "Not this drama again. How about you ask me how my Christmas was and then tell me about the new disaster."
"Sorry. How was your Christmas?"
"Bloody awful," he replied in a British accent. I chuckled involuntarily. "Happy to hear you still have a sense of humor. Now tell me what happened."
"I found out something about him that I shouldn't have, and in my own little way, I confronted him with it. He left last night, but he came back in the wee hours of the morning telling me he was going to have sex with some girl, and then he packed a bag and left again. I don't think he's coming back."
"Well what did you find out?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"It's too awful to say out loud."
"Again?"
"No, nothing like the last time, this time it really is too awful to say. It makes me sick just thinking about it."
"Well how can I help?"
"I don't know. Tell me he'll come back, and we'll work this out. Tell me it will be okay."
"I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Because maybe you two shouldn't be together. All he does is hurt you, and all you do is take it"
I interrupted him. "That's not true."
"Yes it is. Maybe this is the best thing that could have happened."
"How can you say that? You know how much I love him."
"And I also know that sometimes love isn't enough."
"But I need to help him. I have to save him."
"Save him from what? Himself! We both know he's his biggest enemy." I sighed. "Leave him alone. If it's meant to be, then he'll find his way back to you and if not then you can be free to find someone who is able to carry on a healthy relationship."
"What? Someone like you?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Yes it is. You're jealous!"
"Right, because I've never had a chance to make a move on you before because this is the first time Lionel has fucked up. You're so right! Why just be a friend to you, when we can go back to fucking each other and you can go back to pretending that I'm Lionel. Wow! That's a great idea, just what I wanted for Christmas!"
"Fuck you!" I shouted in to the phone.
"Wouldn't you like to!" he retorted.
I slammed the phone down and paced around the room. I called Michael so he could comfort me and tell me everything would be okay, but instead, he told me it was for the best. He didn't understand that I couldn't give up on Lionel. I knew what had him fucked up in the head and I was determined to help him. I got tired of pacing and decided to take a shower. I got my stuff and put on my robe and headed to the bathroom. I showered in freezing cold water, trying to torture myself and get my skin to feel as cold as Lionel had treated me. I finally tired of shaking so I got out the shower and put on my robe.
I was just slipping on my clothes when I heard a knock at the door. Something inside me thought it was Lionel. I ran to the door and opened it only to find Michael standing there. "How the hell did you get in here?" I asked him as I turned and walked to my dresser to get some socks.
"Some kid signed me in, I told him I wanted to surprise my brother. But none of that is relevant." He shut the door and locked it. I had my back turned to him, but I felt him getting closer. Within a few seconds, his arms were slipping around my waist. I tensed as he pulled me in to him. "Tell me what happened," he whispered in my ear. I relaxed a little, but I didn't respond. "I'm here now. It's okay," he assured me.
I didn't want to fall apart again, but I couldn't stop myself. My body trembled as the tears began to fall. "I saw something bad when I went to see Lionel at his home. I saw something real bad. No one should have to live like that. I just wanted to help him, but he won't let me. He said he hates me." I turned around and buried my face in Michael's neck.
Michael's hands began moving over my back. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."
"It will never be okay."
"Yes it will. It always is. Now let it out."
He didn't have to tell me to let it out, I had already lost control. He started moving towards my bed and he collapsed on it, bringing me down on top of him. I kept crying. As the tears dried up, I thought of how pathetic I was, crying like a baby. I wiped my face on his shirt. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," he said.
I couldn't face him, so I didn't look at him. "I'm so pathetic," I told him.
"No you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're just hurting, and that's okay. We all hurt sometimes."
"Stop saying things like that," I told him as I released a little smile, before I immediately took it back.
"It's true. I've been where you are and it hurts. It hurts like hell, but its okay. It's supposed to hurt. I'd wonder if you were human if it didn't hurt." He laughed, but I was unable to laugh with him. "Did you eat yet?" he asked out of the blue.
"No, I'm not hungry."
"You have to eat something. How are you going to be ready for your game tonight if you haven't eaten since" he paused "when was the last time you ate?"
"Yesterday when the bus stopped for lunch."
"You haven't eaten since then?"
"I can't eat."
"Don't be dumb, yes you can. You don't want to, but you can, and you will." He started scooting from under me and he stood up then grabbed my arm, "Now get up." He pulled my arm when I didn't move, so I slowly started to stand. "What happened to your lips?" he asked.
"Nothing."
"You need some lipchap because your lips have lots of little cuts."
"Oh." I knew what the cuts were really from, but he didn't need to know. I slipped on some flip-flops and off we went. He took me to a place that served breakfast all day long and then he ordered me a huge breakfast. I told him I didn't want anything, but he didn't listen. After I wolfed down the breakfast, I had to smile.
"Not hungry, huh?" Michael teased.
"I didn't know I was hungry." I laughed and he laughed with me. It felt good to laugh and for a second, my head was filled with something else besides thoughts of Lionel. Michael was a good friend. I was lucky to have him. He wouldn't let my stupidity stop him from being there when I needed him. That's how you know you have a true friend. You curse them out one second and a few seconds later, they're right there to comfort you. In that moment, I appreciated Michael for who he was and how good he had been to me. I was always taking, and he was always giving. I leaned on him harder than I should have, but he didn't care. He smiled at me and I smiled back. At least we were okay.
My smile faded when the thoughts of Lionel returned.
c Lustyville 2006 Please send comments to lustyville@yahoo.com and check out my yahoo group at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lustyville.