http://thmiii.com/?p=31 This was not what I planned, not at all. My living room was in disarray. I’m sure my neighbors thought World War Three was happening over here. I’m quite shocked the cops weren’t called. Lying in my bed, resting in his arms, the fresh scrapes on his knuckles starting to scab over, admiring the content look his face. No, this was not what I planned.
The fighting didn’t take long to start, to my great astonishment.
David finally let go of my hand when we approached my front door, seeing as I needed it to get my keys out of my pocket. He remained between myself and Charlie as we entered. As I flung off my shoes and put my jacket aside. As I hung up their coats. As we actually raided my fridge; left over Chinese was our meal for the evening.
We all sat at my breakfast bar, not speaking. As I finished my few bites of combination fried rice, Charlie broke the silence, commenting on my modest abode.
“You haven’t seen most of it.” David had seemed tense since I made the suggestion of the impromptu meal. His unease was now obvious, singing behind each of his words.
Charlie slid his hands over David’s shoulders and began massaging. David quickly flung his friend’s gesture away.
“I guess that means I should give you two a tour.” I put on a big smile, hopped off my chair, and opened my arms wide like a ring master.
“This is my study, with my desk and a nice window that looks out on the back alley.
“This is my living room with my Ikea couch, four year old television, and old lamps I found at Goodwill.
“This is my bathroom. Please ignore the filth; the maid is on vacation.
“And this is my bedroom. I have a queen sized bed, seeing as I like to stretch out.” I stood on the bed and began jumping. “And I have plenty of room to flop.” I let myself fall on the mattress giggling loudly as I bounced. Charlie laughed loudly. David smiled.
Charlie moved as if to get up on the bed; David grabbed him by the arm. Charlie flung David’s gesture off this time.
“So this is my humble home.” Neither man looked at me.
“Are you two okay?”
“We’re just fine,” said Charlie.
“Actually,” began David, “Will you excuse us? We need to talk privately.” I could see Charlie’s teeth clinch. David gestured towards my bedroom door. Charlie turned, quickly relaxing his face, flashing me his signature smile again.
“We’ll just be a moment,” he said before walking out the door first. David followed, and lightly closed the door behind himself.
I don’t know why they bothered leaving my room, though I’m grateful my bedroom furniture was left out of the melee. My walls might as well have been made out of paper. I heard every word, and every blow.
“What the fuck was that?” seared Charlie.
“No, not this time. Not with her.”
“What the fuck do you mean ‘not with her’? She’s just another piece of ass from Happy Hour.”
“She’s a girl. You know, the kind that tends to love sucking your cock.”
“I thought that was just you.” Charlie didn’t connect with his swing. I heard choking sounds, presumably from David holding him by his neck. “I am so tired of being your bitch. I am so fucking tired of your game. No amount of blow jobs is worth having to be around you anymore.”
The shoe print on my wall where Charlie pushed off was perfect; no smudge at all. The impression left by David’s shoulder blades was not. I lost a lamp with that exchange.
“You wannabe James Dean motherfucker.” This time Charlie connected. The blood from David’s nose created an interesting constellation on my carpet. “If not for me, you’d still be alone in the corner of the bar waiting and hoping for someone to come talk to you. I picked you. I fucked you. I made you the hottest piece of ass there is after me.”
David rushed Charlie, slamming him into the wall by my bedroom. A few picture frames dropped to the floor. I think it was Charlie’s elbow that made the small hole.
“You selfish asshole. I loved you. And what did I get for it? Watching you fuck someone every week and calling it poly. You never loved me; you don’t know how love. You barely know how to fuck.”
When Charlie tripped David, his head thankfully missed my coffee table, instead bouncing off a sofa cushion and landing on my carpeted floor. As they rolled on the carpet, they bumped into the stool holding my bonsai tree. The little thing tumbled to the floor, but I have faith it will recover from the trauma.
“You whiny little faggot,” screamed Charlie.
“Oh, that’s rich coming from you,” sneered David.
“Yah think?” I believe I heard Charlie spit on David before he left. Charlie slammed the door on his way out, shaking the walls.
After a moment, I heard a light knocking on my bedroom door.
“Um, come in.”
David’s clothes were rumpled, and his nose was dark red with dried blood.
“So, was this what you had planned?”
I sat in shock for a moment, unable to find words. David started to laugh.
“I remember seeing you your first night at Happy Hour. It was the last night I’d gone before work pulled me away. Since Charlie was gone, I had quietly eased in. No one took notice as I sat in my corner and just watched.” As he spoke, I saw why Charlie had compared David to James Dean. He had the perfect brooding look about him.
“When you walked in, there was just something about you. It wasn’t your clothes or your demeanor, but that knowing look you had. That’s what made me remember you.
“I watched as everyone gave you their Charlie and David stories. I saw the devilish grin that crept across your face. So when you played coy that day a month ago, I knew you were up to something, though I don’t suppose the past few minutes was what you had in mind.”
“Hmm, no. Though something similar, maybe.” My devilish grin reappeared for him. He laughed again.
“May I lie down for a moment?”
David tentatively got into my bed and set his head on my pillow. He looked at me, studying my face.
“Um, your welcome, I think.” He closed his eyes.
“I was ready to go. I just needed a little push.” I don’t know why, but I lightly rested my head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around me.
“I guess this means no more Charlie & David; no more storms.”
“Oh, there will be a Charlie and somebody soon enough. I, however, am going to enjoy my retirement.”
“Retirement? You’re not playing anymore?”
“No, I’m not Charlie’s wing man. Speaking of play, what are your limits and what are you doing in ten minutes?”
“That’s cute Rocky, but how about we wait til you’re not bleeding on my sheets.”
Categorised as: Gen Fiction
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