Drowning in a River of Denial

One of my best friends hates me. I don’t understand what happened between the wonderful kisses the night before and this morning. I kissed him and he didn’t respond. He looked scared.

I paced the apartment and tried to come up with something that could’ve made this all make sense. Nothing came to mind. I heard the water running in the bathroom and I finally sighed. I retreated into my room, pulling on my clothes. Dressed and ready to go, I pulled on a GK hoodie and left, brushing past Rian as he headed towards the kitchen. We didn’t say a word to each other and I bet if one of us had, one of two things would’ve happened. One, there would’ve been World War III. Two, wild make-out session that eventually lead to me pushing him into bed and having my way with him.

I wanted the latter to happen, so badly. But he hated me and the former would more than likely happen sooner. I put my feet into my shoes, grabbed my keys and slammed the door on my way out. I found my way to the garage and hopped into my car. I should’ve walked, but I was feeling too lazy and just decided to drive. I drove exactly where I wanted to be, Jack’s. I let myself in with the key he’d given me when he first moved in, just in case I had no where else to go… or you know, he was too wasted to open the door for himself.

When I found him, he was passed out on his couch, remote settled on his stomach and empty take out boxes strewn everywhere. I scrunched my nose at the sight. I’m not a particularly neat guy. I can make a mess like no one’s business but this was kinda gross. I’m pretty sure there’s a Cheeto in his mop of black hair.

“Faggot, wake up!” I shout, sitting in one of his recliners and tossing shit at him. One hits him in the stomach and he jolts awake.

“What the fuck, man?” He growls, brushing crumbs and other… things from him. I don’t even know what half of that shit was, but it was gross nonetheless.

“I need to talk to you,” I replied calmly. He checked the time on the cable box.

“Alex, it’s 10 o’clock in the morning. What the fuck are you doing in my apartment at 10 in the morning? Can’t this wait?”

“Noooo,” I whined. He sighed and sat up. He runs his hand through his hair and the Cheeto which turns out to be a Dorito falls out and onto his lap.

“Was that in my hair?”

I nod.

“Gross.”

“You’re telling me. Now, can I talk about me now?”

“Sure, go ahead, Gaskank.”

I took a deep breath and went over the past 12 hours’ events in my head quickly, playing out in my head like a movie.

“Alright, so I’m gay.”

He just stared at me, “Yeah, Alex. I know.”

“No, but I’m gay and I have a guy as a roommate,” I said.

“Alright,” he said slowly, drawing out the word.

“Goddamn it, Jack. Why are you so stupid? I want to fuck Rian!”

His mouth turned into a perfect O and he looked a little taken aback by this. He didn’t say anything so I went on.

“Not only that, I kissed Rian. Like, on the mouth. With tongue and a bed!”

“Go on.”

“So we had this really hot make out session last night and then I cuddled with him and then… when I got up, he was gone. I went to find him and he was asleep on the bathroom floor, and he probably cried himself to sleep and when I kissed him this morning, he looked repulsed. I think he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Jack yawned, stretching.

“How do you know?”

“Because, it’s Rian. We all know he’s gay.”

“What? No, he’s not!”

“Dude, denial is not just a river in Egypt. Rian is about as straight as you are and while he won’t admit it, whenever Cassadee would try to hit on him, he wouldn’t reciprocate… and Cass is hot!”

I scratched my head and tried to work through Jack’s logic.

“And besides, if he made out with your ugly ass sober, there’s no way that he’s into the the vah-jay-jay.”

“Go back to sleep, douche.”

“Yes, sir, Colonel Gay Piece-of-Shit, sir!” he said in a rigid military voice. He even saluted me as he fell back and curled up. I shook my head.

“Why don’t you sleep in your bed?” I asked.

“Can’t,” he murmured into the couch cushions.

“Why not?”

“There’s a girl in there.”

I stopped, turned and faced him.

“Excusez-moi?” I asked.

“Girl. In. My. Bed.”

“And you’re not in there, because?”

“It’s Holly.”

I stared, eyes widening.

“Really now?”

“Yes. She showed up and started apologizing for letting the distance tear us apart and then we had sex and now… I’m afraid to go back in there.”

“Dude. There’s a naked Playmate in your bed, and you’re sleeping on the couch? I know I’m gay but something doesn’t seem right here.”

“I’m scared, Lex,” he mumbled, his voice sounding much like a child’s. I walked back over to him and sat on the couch with him, running my hands through his sweat-matted hair. He looked up at me with those wide brown eyes.

“Don’t be. It’s just Holly. She’s fun, she’s cute. She’s one hell of a kisser, from what I remember you saying when you first met her. You have nothing to be scared of. Now go in there and cuddle the fuck out of her, okay? If not for her, then for me, okay? Because I’m not allowed to cuddle with anyone.”

He nodded and sat up, throwing his arms around me in a hug.

“I’m going.”

“Good boy,” I said as he stood up. I smacked his ass and he yelped, hurrying towards his bedroom door. It closed behind him and I quickly cleaned up his living room, taking the take out containers to the trash. I turned off the TV, put dishes in the sink and finally, after a quick wipe down of the table and counter, I headed off. I had no destination in mind this time.

I liked it.