If We Weren't Such Good Friends I Think That I'd Hate You

It was a grey, foggy afternoon. It hadn’t rained in a couple of hours, to Faris’ surprise. Even though he didn’t mind the rain, he was starting to get sick of the nasty state the weather had been lately.

Faris found himself in a horrible mood. He glowered at his closet, trying to find something to wear. He wanted to use Rhys’ fashion advice and somehow try to ‘switch-it-up’ a bit, but it was making him even more frustrated. Faris was also frustrated when he thought about Kyle, who, at the moment, was showering in Faris and Tom’s bathroom. Kyle had a habit of leaving conversations on cliffhangers, somehow only giving enough detail to make one extremely curious; this drove Faris mental. Normally Faris didn’t mind not knowing every detail, but it was somewhat infuriating for him to not know every detail about Kyle. It was an odd, growing obsession.

Faris threw on a normal pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt, saying a mental ‘fuck-off’ to Rhys. He walked out into his living room, noticing that it was only Tom left in the house now.

“So you’ve decided to join the living and go out with us, then?” asked Tom casually, flipping through a newspaper he had sprawled out on his lap.

“I suppose so.” replied Faris, sitting down on a couch across from Tom. “Is everybody going?”

“As of right now, I believe they are.”

Faris felt excruciatingly awkward, sitting there with Tom while he knew Tom suspected things. Faris almost wanted to tell Tom what Kyle had told him, try to get some sort of wisdom from Tom. But no, Faris would never do that, and Tom knew that.

“I’m going to assume Kyle will be tagging along?” asked Tom, glancing over at Faris.

“Yeah.” muttered Faris, folding his arms. “I guess he is.”

“Have you asked him when he’s leaving?”

Faris’ eyes instantly stared over at Tom; he gave not a look of anger but a look of fear. Faris felt Tom’s large eyes burn questions into his own.

“Not yet. But hopefully soon.” replied Faris, his voice sounding somewhat higher than usual. “It doesn’t matter.”

Tom smiled mischievously, “Funny thing, though, it mattered a lot to you a few weeks ago.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, but allow me to suggest asking Kyle yourself if you’re so eager to know.” said Faris sharply, a spot of anger in the tone of his voice.

“You know I’m not trying to offend you, Faris, so stop acting so offended.” sighed Tom, folding the newspaper over and laying it on the table in front of him. “I don’t care if he’s here for another year, whatever makes you happy.”

“What does that mean?” asked Faris curiously.

“Personally, I think you like having Kyle around. I know you do, and so do you, so don’t give me that confused face.” Faris had to refrain from rolling his eyes. “It’s not like he’s done anything horrible and he hasn’t given us an excuse to kick him out. I’m just saying I’m alright with him being here if it makes you as pleasant as you’ve been lately.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Tom.” stated Faris clearly, trying his best to get Tom to shut up.

“Come on, haven’t you noticed yourself lately? You’ve been actually laughing at Josh’s jokes and I’ve seen you fret in your mirror over what you were wearing. You didn’t even care last week when Joe was hungover and we had to cancel recording.”

“Stop talking, Tom, please.”

Tom pursed his lips and exhaled deeply, proceeding to pick up the newspaper and read it again. Tom probably wouldn’t have stopped but Faris knew how pitiful he looked. He didn’t even have it in him to glare at Tom; he just gave him a look that said ‘you don’t understand, leave it alone’.

Faris abruptly got up off of the couch, walking awkwardly back to his bedroom. He slammed the door behind him, putting his hands on his hips while he stared at the floor. He was going to begin listing all of the reasons in his head why Tom would be able to falsely suggest or assume why he would be happier with Kyle occupying their couch, until he looked up to see Kyle standing in his boxers while searching through a bag of his clothes.

“Sorry, left my suitcase in here.” said Kyle, still fondling through his bag to find something to wear.

“It’s… okay.” muttered Faris, staring intently at Kyle as he was oddly bent over his suitcase. “I could leave.”

“It’s alright, I heard you yelling with Tom.” replied Kyle, shrugging as he continued to talk. “I know what it’s like to row with your best mate, so you’ll probably want privacy or something.”

Faris nodded awkwardly, holding his hand up to his face while Kyle continued to ramble on.

“-not that you want me here anyway, I feel a bit bad taking up your living room. I’m even taking on your bathroom and bedroom now.”

Faris had his mouth open to begin to tell Kyle that he didn’t mind, but Kyle kept on talking.

“I’m going to be leaving on Sunday anyway, so that only gives me three more days here. Then you can have your bedroom all to yourself and you won’t have to worry about entertaining me with records anymore.”

Kyle finally turned around, holding his outfit in his hands. He was grinning happily; Faris imagined that Kyle thought he had just broken very happy news to Faris, but Faris didn’t feel overly joyful.

“Great.” said Faris bluntly.

“But thanks for everything.” added Kyle, his hand reaching over to the handle on Faris’ bedroom door. “Even my mates wouldn’t take me this time.”

“So you’re going back to your girlfriend, then?” asked Faris loudly, turning around to look at Kyle.

“I guess I am, for now… don’t really have any other options.” Kyle snorted. “…definitely not ready to talk to Kieran.”

Faris stopped listening to Kyle’s mumbled words; he couldn’t make out much of a conjugated sentence anyway. He felt himself frown, feeling a bit like he did a few weeks ago. He didn’t like it at all.

* * *

Kyle was fully clothed now, although Faris felt more comfortable now. He sat at the bar, watching as everybody behaved as they always did when they went out. Now, though, he had to watch as Joe and Kyle made themselves the life of the dance floor. The two of them were happily dancing and chatting amongst everybody while Faris scowled out into the darkness.

Faris had decided on continuing to glare into the darkness until he’d finished his drink, and then he would pay and leave, but when his eyes had finally sought out Kyle’s, the sparkling in Kyle’s eye said different. They came closer until Faris had realized it was too late to leave.

“Come out and dance.” Kyle was loud. Loud and drunk.

“I’m not much of a dancer, remember.” said Faris loudly, continuing to look intently at Kyle’s eyes, counting each flutter.

“Doesn’t matter, everybody’s drunk anyway.” proclaimed Kyle, trying his best to drag Faris out to where he and Joe had just been.

“I feel a bit sick-ish, I was about to leave.” said Faris, shaking Kyle’s hand off of his arm.

“Good, I was just about to leave too.” agreed Kyle, sticking one of his hands into his pocket while pointing to the exit with his other.

“No you weren’t.”

“I wasn’t, but I am now.” argued Kyle, nudging Faris to leave. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Faris scoffed at Kyle but eventually gave in, following him out of the bar. The street air was much cooler than inside the bar, the air smelt of spring. Kyle kicked at a can, stumbling afterward into Faris. Faris caught Kyle around the hips, trying his best to make Kyle stand straight.

“I’d be an awful mess without you, Faris.” muttered Kyle, leaning his head onto Faris’ shoulder as Faris tried his best to lead Kyle’s drunk body back to the apartment.

“Thanks, I guess.” said Faris awkwardly, walking in a fast pace and Kyle trudged on beside him.

“I mean it. This has been so fun.”

Faris rolled his eyes as he took out his keys, unlocking and opening the door while trying his greatest to politely shove Kyle into the house in front of him. Kyle fell in through the door, staggering to his feet while proceeding to kick off his shoes. Faris followed behind him, turning on the light to the living room.

“Are you going to just go to sleep now?” asked Kyle, who began to haul his shirt over his head and throw it on the floor next to the couch.

“I’ll probably just… be off to that, yeah.” said Faris, his eyes trying his best to stay on Kyle’s face.

Faris and Kyle remained silent for a few minutes, their eyes not moving off of each others. This was normal for Faris, but not so normal for Kyle. Faris was content that there were no bruises on Kyle’s face anymore.

“So, you going to miss me when I go back?” asked Kyle jokingly, patting himself on the stomach.

“No.”

“I should probably start picking up all of my stuff lying around; I’ve made your place a mess over the last few weeks.”

Faris shifted uncomfortably, nodding in agreement as Kyle seemed to continue to jabber on until they were left in complete silence again.

“I’ll go bring out your records now, just to get it started.” stated Faris, turning around and walking back to his bedroom.

His bedroom seemed to have Kyle’s things scattered all around. Most of the records surrounding the floor were Kyle’s. Faris’ current favorite record was Kyle’s favorite ‘Squeeze’ record; it bothered him that he wouldn’t have access to it anymore after Kyle left. He frowned, shoving it back into the box it arrived in while making a mental note to purchase it in the future.

Faris picked the box up in his arms, kicking open his bedroom door and walking back to the living room. Faris found Kyle still standing, watching the television. He was watching as someone was being hauled out of a cop car.

“Reminiscing?”

Kyle glanced over and smiled faintly, but continued to watch the television. His arms were folded on his bare chest, and he was biting his lip tightly. Faris felt complete sadness as he looked into Kyle’s eyes, which deeply expressed remorse and guilt. Faris bit his own lip, getting more frustrated as every second passed by next to Kyle. After a couple of seconds Kyle shook out of it, holding his arms open in front of Faris for the box.

“I’m always going to be a useless junkie, right?”

Faris frowned as Kyle fixated on his eyes, looking so internally broken that Faris felt as though he were hurting too. Faris felt like his hands were burning red hot, and like his eyes were darting back and forth the room. His heartbeat was in his throat, it was infuriating him with anxiety.

Faris dropped the box of records to the floor, taking a sudden step closer to Kyle and hauling him into his arms. Kyle’s eyes were gaping in shock; his lips tingling in excitement and hunger as they were roughly pressed by Faris’. Faris held Kyle firmly, while still allowing to Kyle’s flailing arms to wander around Faris’ lanky body.

Faris began to panic midway through his kiss with Kyle, his hands beginning to clench together and his breath becoming faster. He let go of Kyle gently, backing away to view his reaction.

“You’re not a useless junkie.” muttered Faris, nudging Kyle’s box of records with his foot.

Faris turned away and headed back to his room, wiping his lips with the sleeve of his shirt that Rhys had warned him not to wear.