Spider Legs

I had the bellboy help me get Warren up the stairs and into his living room couch. Then I sat across him, in the darkness of his ‘suite’, and stared. Even in the almost complete darkness of the place, his paleness still made it look like he was glowing. In the years that I have not seen him, Warren has not darkened a shade. As for me, I developed a pretty attractive tan (if I may say so myself). He still favored the black motif we both shared a liking to when we were younger. I had moved on to explore other colors since we last met. In fact, I was currently wearing a powder blue, form-fitting shirt. It had a dead teddy bear printed in the front. Even my hair had a bit of golden highlights.

Sighing, I stood up and crept around for the light switch. When white, fluorescent light flooded the suite, I almost did my carefully locked gay squeal again.

I’ve been in Felicity several times, but only had gotten as far as their function hall.

The floor, the walls, and the ceiling were white. White floor tiles, white walls speckled with bits of glass, crystalline white ceiling. The small (‘small’ in proportion to the suite) living room also had a white fur rug. The wooden furniture was of dark wood; the couch and the sofa were of white faux leather, with dark wood legs. A small chandelier hung from the ceiling, just above a black-glass coffee table, upon which Warren had rested his feet. He was sleeping.

I spun around, my breath quite taken away. Discreetly, I did my excitement dance and squealed in an undertone. This place was thrice as big as my own apartment (and a million times more fabulous)! The living room alone fitted my living and dining room!

Unable to resist it, I took the chance to explore the suite. From the left of the living room was the kitchen-dining room. A black marble counter divided the cooking from the dining area. The small dining table was of dark wood as well, with a glass top and of the simplest design. The three chairs around it were of simple, yet modernistic design as well.

I found the bedrooms on the right side of the living room, and after walking in and out of Warren’s walk-in closet several times, I came back for him.

I almost half-lifted his limp form onto his bedroom. He sighed heavily as he landed comfortably on his bed. He opened his eyes fully.

“Thanks a mil, William,” he said hoarsely. “Really. I owe ya.”

I snorted. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “S’not like I saved your life or anything.”

He found no response for that.

For what felt like forever, he lay there staring at the ceiling, and I stood by his bedside, staring at him.

When I was about to take my leave, he cleared his throat:

“I just broke up with my girlfriend,” he said.

His eyes narrowed then, and they began to water.

“I see,” I mumbled. “S’that why you were out drinking?”

“Yup,” he said. “We were together, uh, two years, you know?”

“I’m sorry…” I told him. “It must be very painful for you.”

Then he laughed. “Jesus Christ, William,” he said. “Have we been apart that long? ‘It must be very painful for you.’ Bullshit. It’s like we were never friends.”

“Warren, it’s been five years. I honestly don’t know how to talk to you.”

He frowned.
“I guess,” he mumbled. “What happened to us, William?”

The question made me stagger backwards, as though an actual force had pushed me back.

I was not the yelling type, not really. I crossed my arms before me and met Warren’s slightly bemused stare.

“What happened was,” I began. Like I said, I’m no yeller, so I was basically muttering what I said next: “You punched me in the face and had all my things that I left at your house delivered in a box to my front porch, is what happened.”

It seemed to take a bit of time for the words to sink in. He slowly sat up. His gaze had become sober all of a sudden.

“William…”

“Liam,” I interrupted him. My voice was barely a whisper. “You used to call me Liam. Remember? Only my dad calls me William.”

Warren’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He closed it. Then opened, then closed it several times.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, shaking his head. “S’been so long…”

“I think I have to go…” I found myself saying in the same quiet tone. “I’ve got guests waiting for me…Maybe you can call for your other friends to come and watch you…”

I was about to cross the bedroom’s threshold, when I heard him say:

“You must think I hated you…back then…”

My feet would not let me go any further after that, so I spun around and faced him.

“Everyone,” I stammered. “Everyone hated me after that bitch Audrey outed me to the entire school. For weeks my brothers at home wouldn’t even eat at the same time with me; everyday I got beat up or picked on; no one wanted to talk to me. And just when I thought I would be able to get through all of that as long as you stood by me, you came up to me and broke my nose. So yeah, I did think you hated me.”

“I didn’t hate you…” Warren said. “I was angry at you, yeah. All those years that we’ve been friends and you never once told me, or even given me a hint that you were gay. I felt betrayed. But I did not hate you.”

Staring at his eyes in the darkness of his room, I saw regret, pain, apology and…I was very good at detecting this, sincerity.

Sighing, I thought to myself: Fuck it, it was five years ago! Forget about it!

I sat myself on the bed next to him, and slowly pulled him into an embrace. I heard a breathe of relief from him as he wrapped his arms around me. A smile cracked my face, and I began to cry. Silently, I let my tears roll down my cheeks and fall on Warren’s shoulders. I realized then just how much I missed him.

I heard him say ‘Sorry’. I hugged him tighter; my throat was too clenched for me to say anything. I cried so hard that I was shaking. He tightened his embrace around me as well, and he began to brush his hand over my back, comforting me. He muttered something, words meant to make me stop crying, but I couldn’t really hear him.

Pressing my face against his throat, I could smell his musk. He smelled pretty much the same as he did when we were in high school, but there was a hint of expensive perfume on him. I’m not sure if it was that exotic smell that riled me up, but I found myself kissing his neck.