I Lied When I Said I Didn't Love You

For long time that was how we stayed.

Leant against the fridge awkwardly, a tangle of flesh and blood, the smaller of the two struggling to keep us both upright.

My face was pressed into Billie’s chest, half-blinded by the soggy material I had soaked seconds before. Every time I breathed in, snuffling heavily through my nose like a wild boar, I could smell him. His essence, his scent, his musk- whatever you want to call it. It was a hot day- he had been sweating, his body paying no heed to his deodorant. The sweat was mostly what I could smell, sweet, tangy sweat, raw and untainted by commercialised perfumes.

At that moment, it was the most delectable smell in the world.

My arms were tightly wrapped around his skinny waist; there was a moment where I almost fell and had to catch onto him. I had seen no reason to let go afterwards. My hands rested gently over the nubs of his curved spine, daring to pull me closer towards his lean frame. Billie didn’t seem to care. His own arms were awkwardly positioned under my armpits, fingers interlaced at the back to keep me standing upright. My limbs had gone floppy from the sudden emotional onslaught barraging my senses. It took all my strength to lean on him- let alone stand by myself.

But then again, who wouldn’t be floppy after admitting what I had?

So, he finally knew. He finally figured it out, after so many years of pain and endless drama. Years that could have been hours- years that could have been completely for our immature joy and laughter. We could have done so much- much, much more then we had dared to do before. I pictured us together in the back of a van like old times, dirty, smelly, but with huge grins on our oily faces simply for the pure joy of existing together. He would be sitting on my lap- because I had pulled him there, no doubt and he would protest like a cat at that show of dominance. Maybe he’d even bite me- Billie had a weird thing for biting me, especially in the soft, ticklish area between my neck and shoulder. I used to tease him about being part dog or vampire.

Used to. Then…

But that could be better now, couldn’t it? We could have it all- money, fame, each other. Who knows, maybe we could even get married! Ha. I grinned through my tears at that. Billie would want to wear the dress, of course, even though he hates playing the girl. Something borrowed- that would probably be my underwear or something, he borrowed them a lot accidentally anyway. Something blue- his guitar, of course, strung across the back of the diminutive bride-man. Something old- could Blue also count for that? Yeah, it probably would. Something new- we could be cheapskates and say that was the dress or something.

Maybe after that, we could adopt some kids. A boy and a girl, to make things equal. I’d always wanted kids. I wasn’t sure about Billie. We hadn’t ever discussed things like this- I think I brought something up like it before and he snorted and asked me when I suddenly got a vagina. That was back when we were younger, though. Maybe he’d changed his mind.

“Billie?” I asked softly, lifting my head slightly from its position on his chest. Billie looked down at me, his eyes looking slightly puffy around the edges.

“Yeah?” he replied throatily, having to gulp down some excess mucus before attempting to speak. I hadn’t realised he’d been crying too. Silly little Billie. Everything was fine now. He didn’t need to cry.

“What do you think about having kids?”

I felt his chest suddenly heave at these words, his legs buckling slightly. It was probably from my weight, so I immediately got off of him and stood straight.

“What?” he asked hoarsely, his eyes wide and red beneath his thick eyebrows.

“You know. Having some kids- adopting, that sort of stuff.”

“Adopting?” Billie gave a shaky laugh, wiping his face with his arm. “Why would I need to adopt kids? I still have both my balls.”

“Oh… Well, you’d have to find someone willing to do that, if you want to take that approach,” I commented, turning this new thought over in my head. “It’s an idea, though. Then the kid will be related to one of us at least…”

“One of us? Mike, what are you on about?”

He looked confused, like I had suddenly gone crazy and married myself to a pint of milk. Like something wasn’t quite making sense- Oh! Maybe he didn’t want to have kids after all… The disappointment rose in my chest, threatening to bubble up and destroy my fragile surroundings. Don’t worry, I thought, trying to calm myself. You can work around him. It may take a couple of years, but he’d be ready by then.

“Bill, if you don’t want to adopt straight away, I guess we could wait a couple of years after the wedding…”

“Wedding? You mean me and Adie? You aren’t making much sense.”

“Adie? No,” I laughed, sounding forced. “I mean… You and I. Me and you. I know it’s not that common, but I’m pretty sure it’s allowed now-“

“Wait,” Billie cut me off, speaking slowly. “You think we’re getting married?”

“I was hoping- we don’t have to- it would just be something more of a commitment-“
Billie shook his head, before groaning and burying his head in his hands. His hands crawled like spiders through his blonde hair. Blonde… That reminded me of something.

“Billie, would you mind dying your hair back to black or brown? I don’t think it suits you blonde.”

Billie gave a short sharp bark of laughter, not raising his head from his hands.

“God,” he mumbled into his palms. “They told me you were crazy, but I didn’t believe them until now.”

“Crazy?” I inquired, the smile on my lips feeling suddenly stretched like a distorted face on a balloon. “Me? I’m not crazy, Billie.”

“Sure you’re not,” he mumbled again, before taking his hands away from his curved face and looking upwards. “Tell me, Mike- why do you think we’re getting married?”

“I-I-I-it’s simple,” I stuttered, liquids in my gut beginning to churn threateningly. “You love me again. We’re going to be together.”

The last statement sounded like a question and projected my sudden uncertainty about the situation at hand. Why was Billie being so strange? Didn’t he want us to be together? No, no- that was silly, he loved me, why wouldn’t he want us to be together any more? It made no sense to me. We had to be together if we loved each other. It was how things worked. Boyfriends, lovers, whatever you want to call it- it still meant him and me together in some form.

He did want to be with me, didn’t he?

“Together? Mike!” Billie exclaimed desperately, rubbing at his forehead and eyes like he was trying to wake up. “We can’t be together- I’m getting married to Adie in a couple of weeks. I’m going to be her husband- not yours.”

“N-n-no,” I stumbled, my tongue betraying me as a fool. “You love me- you’re meant to stay here- we’re meant to-“

“We’re meant to do nothing. I’m engaged- getting married! I can’t just break the whole thing off- it would break Adie’s heart!”

“And what about my heart, Billie?” I asked quietly. “What about my heart?”

“Your heart?”

“Yes,” I replied coldly, grabbing one of his hands. I used my other hand to unbutton the front of my shirt, before pressing his hand to the cool flesh where my heart thundered dangerously. “This heart. The one you can feel beating right now. Do you just want to snap it in two again, fuck up my entire bloodstream? Because I’ll tell you now- you walk out of here with her, I’ll die.”

“What? Mike, you’re being ridiculous!” Billie said weakly, snatching his hand away from his chest, burnt by the fire of my emotions. “You won’t die. Broken hearts don’t kill people- it’s just a figure of speech.”

“You’d be a murderer,” I hissed softly. “You would’ve killed me, put me in an early grave.”

“Enough!” Billie yelped, covering his ears with his hands. “You won’t die! I won’t kill you! And I’m not ruining the best thing ever to happen to me- I’m getting MARRIED!”

“Funny,” I snorted. “If you’re not ruining the best thing ever to happen to you, how come I’m falling apart?”

“I meant as in I love her, Mike. I really love her!”

“What about me?” I squeaked childishly. “What about us? Am I going to be your “mistress” or something?”

“We both know that’s not going to happen.”

“Then come and stay with me,” I pleaded, reaching forward to grab one of his guitarist hands in my bassist ones. “I can provide for you- I can give you anything you want- anything you need…”

My arm travelled up his arm, brushing his tattoos gently, affectionately. Billie flinched like my hand was a tarantula, pushing me away.

“And what if what I want and need is Adie? What if that’s it, Mike?” he asked quietly, an edge of fear in his voice. I moved closer to his, laying my hands on top of his chest. I had never been fond of the whole seducing thing. It made me feel like I was Mrs Robinson, plus it made me feel very feminine. Feminine doesn’t suit me- it’s more of a Billie thing.

“You don’t need her,” I said softly, taking care to run my tongue over my lips. My hands travelled down his chest, laying flat on his concave stomach before scooting down to the loops of his belts, which I used to pull him closer. I heard him squeak in discomfort, but that didn’t deter me. “Remember there was time when you didn’t even like girls? Hmm? How you stopped writing songs about the silly bitches at the library- and demanded a lot more from me?”

“I was an adolescent going through stages- Mike, you fucking move your hands any further down I’ll head-butt you!”

I had to laugh. He sounded like an antsy high school girl then- the kind that wants to stay a virgin until they’re married, for the grace of God.

My advice to them is don’t take a vow you can’t keep. Tre used to make short work of their chastity.

“I didn’t think that was the kind of butt you were interested in, but if you insist…”
I removed my hands from their nook on his bony hips, folding my arms across my chest as I studied him. He had gotten very skinny lately- I didn’t like that. It made him harder to hold onto- plus he was no longer soft and cuddly.

“Okay, I’m going right now,” Billie muttered, refusing to look me in the eye. “This is getting too weird- you need help Mike. Really good help-“

He started to edge towards the door, grabbing his keys off the counter. I darted through the kitchen, barring the way out before he could leave.

“You’re not going anywhere until you admit you love me and you won’t leave me for that slut ever again,” I explained coldly, a piece of flint stuck in my throat and cutting up my sentences. “Then I’ll let you go so you can explain to her. And you’ll come straight back here, so we can make up for all those… times we missed.”

“You’re a fucking psycho- let me out!” Billie yelled, pushing at my arms to no effect. Bassists have stronger arms and hands then guitarists. It’s a known fact.
Plus, I had been working out.

“No,” I whispered, grabbing his hands and twisted them back. I heard him cry out in pain- my eyes started to water, tears threatening to break through my new, tough steely composure. “You love me, don’t you? You haven’t said you don’t. I love you- I love you more then she could ever do. I know more about you then her. We’re soul mates, aren’t we, Billie? I’ve never- I’ve never felt like this for anyone else!”

Billie stared at me when I said this, his eyes still filled with pain. Only, I don’t think it was still from his wrists. It was deeper- it was anguish.

“You’ve never felt like this for anyone else?” he repeated in a monotone, shaking his head again. “Oh… Mike… Can’t you see what’s happened?”

“I can see perfectly what’s happened. I love you.”

“No, no you don’t,” he sighed, suddenly looking a lot older then a guy in his early twenties. A shadow had crossed his face, souring his pretty features. “You love an ideal of me- not the actual me.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It means- it means, well, that you don’t miss our relationship. You- you miss the sex.”

“I what?” I exclaimed incredulously. “I miss the what?”

“You miss the sex,” Billie repeated, looking at his stationary feet. “You miss it so much, you’ve turned your lust for me into something obsessive, a type of infatuation. And I don’t blame you- what we had going was pretty good. But you can’t just mistake it for love and think we’re going to be together for ever.”

The sex? He thought I missed the sex? Boy, was he arrogant or what? The sex was just part of it- a very painful part of it sometimes too. The bruising used to be terrible, especially when Billie was too enthusiastic. But, of course, my pain never used to halt him.

“I don’t miss the sex- I miss you!” I protested, shocked from his sudden conclusion.

“Oh really? You were just about to grab my fucking crotch to stop me from leaving- what kind of message does that broadcast?”

“That I’d do anything to stop you from leaving!”

“Yeah, right. Whore yourself out to someone else- I’m not interested in giving you a free rectal exam,” Billie said spitefully, attempting to push past me again. This time I didn’t care about hurting him. I grabbed the bitch by his ropey little arms, dragging him over to the kitchen counter without another thought. I blocked out his whines easily, all senses blurred by the cruel things his rosebud mouth had coarsely spat out.

He thought I missed the sex? Fine. I’d show him just how wrong he was.

And when he realised, he’d come crawling back to me, thankful I was so forgiving.

“You are an arrogant little bastard,” I growled, sounding almost demonic. “Why would I miss fucking you? You hurt me the whole time and didn’t care. You gave the worst blow jobs in the world- you never thought about anyone but yourself!”
By that time I had Billie bent over the counter, pressing on his spine until his torso was laid out flat on the cold surface. Billie whimpered as I leant over him, bringing my lips to his ear to whisper:

”I’m going to give you a reminder of that. Just so that you don’t forget again.”

He struggled against my grip, but he was no match for my developed muscles. While he’d been in La La Land designing his wedding, I had been doing something a lot more practical. I could open jars that he could never ever twist the top of.

More importantly, he couldn’t run away.

“Mike, please, let me go! This isn’t like you- HELP! HELP!” Billie yelled hysterically into the counter, trying to wriggle across it like a slimy eel. I almost let him go- almost. But, my resolve was stronger. There were so many things I went through, just to end up here, telling him my true thoughts and feelings. I lost so much- and I wasn’t about to let the loss be repaid by such little gain. It would hurt him, yes; it would, but not as much as he’d hurt me all these years. Besides, what was a couple of minutes of pain compared to the mistake he was about to make? Nothing whatsoever.

Doing this would be a blessing for him, even if it came disguised as a curse.

“Now Billie,” I whispered, leaning over his back. “We can do this the easy way. You relax, hold onto something, and it’ll be over and done with in a few minutes. Or- you can struggle and, to put this delicately, be in a lot of fucking pain, maybe even tearing something in the process. Remember when I had to sit on that rubber donut for a week, thanks to you? If you don’t make this easy, I’ll have to lend it to you.”

“Go- fuck- yourself,” Billie choked into the counter-top. “Choke- on- your-own- balls!”

He spat on the counter in defiance, even though his legs were weak with fear. I chuckled sardonically at this show of bravado.

“With you here, I don’t have to. Now, what’s it going to be, the easy way, or the hard way? Make up your mind- I’m not waiting all day.”

This had to happen. He had to see how much he meant to me. Even if it meant me doing something terrible…

“Wait! You can’t do anything- you don’t have a condom!” Billie suddenly cried, sensing a loophole. “What if I have AIDS or something, what about that?”

“I doubt you have AIDS, Billie. Plus… the condom thing never stopped you before. Not with me, anyway.”

“Mike- I’m begging you, don’t do this! It’s not you- you would never- why would you want to hurt me?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

By that time Billie was crying pathetically into the hard surface, hiccupping quietly. I saw tears fall off his red cheeks, making little pools on my counter. Shiny tracks from his eyes paved the way to his lips effortlessly, like a depressed snail had slimed across his face before making a home in his unguarded mouth.

Don’t be swayed. You can do this. It’s for his own good.

Keep one hand clamped on the back of his neck I yanked at the back of his jeans, pulling them down effortlessly. He always wore them too loose- such was a blessing. I don’t think I would’ve been able to reach around him to undo his pants, without a certain degree of injury anyway. Billie could still fight, however pathetic he looked. If I gave him a chance, he’d leap for it and tackle me to the ground. Best to stay simple.
Next was the underwear. That was easy enough. He was wearing simple, elastic band black boxers, a small hole over his left buttock. I barely had to touch them to make them fall- they were so old and worn; they succumbed without an ounce of resistance. Next were my own pants. It was a bit trickier undoing them. They were tight, new and zipped. I’d have to hope my one hand would be strong enough to keep Billie down while I unzipped them.

When Billie heard my zip fall he stiffened, his head jerking around on the counter. I could barely keep him down- his adrenaline must have kicked in.

“Mike- please! Please! Don’t! HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP! PLEASE, SOMEBODY HELP ME!”

He screamed and wailed in the silence, wriggling so much under my grip that I was forced to grab him with both hands and slam his little frame against the counter. I told him it could be easy, but did he listen? Not a chance. Always a stubborn one was Billie. So eager to be leader, so eager to boss me around.

“Shut up,” I hissed in his ear, my body pressing down on top of his to keep him still and quiet. “Be quiet and do what you’re told, for once in your life!”

Billie sniffed quietly, his eyes wide beneath me. I leant down, kissing him softly on the cheek. He recoiled sharply, looking shocked and confused. I shook my head sadly.
“I would never hurt you if I didn’t have to. But I have to now- please, make this easier for the both of us and keep quiet. I don’t want to-“

“You say you don’t, yet you’re still doing this,” Billie laughed flatly, his words strained. I sighed tiredly, taking back a hand to tug down my own boxers and to… get things ready.

“This is necessary. Now, if you’d just-“

The kitchen door suddenly flew open, interrupting my instructions. My head jerked upwards to see Tre leaning through the doorframe; his face red and sweating, his chest heaving with short, staccato breathes.

“Was someone yelling? I was all the way on the other side of the…”
He trailed off, confusion dawning across his features as he took in his surroundings. Billie wheezed into the counter as Tre stared, his back tensed and poised. Finally Tre spoke:

“What the hell is going on?” he asked quietly, his brow furrowed. “Billie- you’re getting married in two weeks- and Mike, you’re…” he gestured helplessly, “supposed to be… responsible…”

“This isn’t what it looks like,” I growled, pushing myself back up from Billie’s back. I stepped back, quickly pulling up my pants before Tre could see any more. Billie immediately sprang off the counter, grabbing one of my cookbooks to cover himself as he darted away.

“Too right it’s not what it fucking looks like!” he yelped, stumbling towards the door. There was a moment where Tre and I both thought he was going to trip over his jeans, both rushing forward to catch him. Billie righted himself though as soon as he saw me coming, shaking his head adamantly.

“S-s-stay away from me, you fucking lunatic!” he squeaked, taking a moment to heave up his jeans. Tre frowned again, catching Billie by the arm as he tried to rush out the door.

“Whoa, Bill, what are you on about? Mike isn’t crazy-“

“Oh yeah?” Billie spat venomously, giving me a complete look of disgust. “He just tried to fucking rape me over his kitchen counter- that’s what I call crazy!”

He batted Tre’s arm off his shoulder, still staring at me wild-eyed. Tre didn’t seem to notice. He too was staring at me, only his expression was one of shock and disbelief, instead of angry violence. Why didn’t they understand? I had to do it- I had to prove to Billie I loved him, and it wasn’t just about the sex. And now…

They thought I was a monster.

“Mike… Is this true?” Tre asked finally, his voice shaking badly. Billie gave a hysterical laugh.

“Yes! Side with the guy you want to fuck- that’s how it is, isn’t it? Well, you can have him! And when you see what he’s really like now- don’t come crying to me.”
That was the last thing he said before he stormed out the door, his pants threatening to fall back down his thighs. I waited a minute before hearing his car start up outside, pulling out of my driveway with a thunder of gravel.

And then there were two, staring at each other in the sudden, deathly silence.