Breach

Mick looks to me and I to him. His expression is hard to read. As his best friend, I can proudly say that I am an expert at seeing through his blank expressions. However, today I must be off my game because I have no clue what is running through that skull of his.

He cocks a brow, opens his mouth as if to say something only to shut it shortly after. This makes me stare curiously as well. Is he going to say anything or not?

“Are you brain dead or something?” I tease after what felt like minutes of silence between us. My remark makes Mick scowl. When he punches me playfully my shoulders untense. I sigh in relief.

At least he doesn’t fear touching me. That’s a good sign after what I told him.

“Shut up, I’m trying to be an awesome friend here and you’re messing it up,” Mick says.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“What do you want me to say anyway? I knew your door was swinging that way after the way you talked about him everyday. You’re like a woman…oh…oh!”

I ignore the “you’re like a woman,” comment only because I became interested in the excitement Mick suddenly got. He snaps his fingers as if he suddenly discovered the mystery of life. He laughs and shouts, “You’re the one taking it up the ass, aren’t you!”

I pull Mick’s chair out from under him. With a bang he falls to the floor and grunts, “Not cool man.”

“I am not!” I holler angrily. What the hell? All I told him was that Antony and I may or may not be dating. We kissed, that’s it. We haven’t really talked about it so sex obviously has not happened. Besides…there is no way I’m bottoming. Nope. I rather die. And I point this out to Mick too who laughs.

“You better get over that cause I doubt Antony will be bottom forever. One day curiosity will take you over and you’ll be saying ‘oh Annie!’”

I punch him again. Hearing Mick try to mock my voice in such a way is probably the most horrifying thing I’ve ever heard. I shiver in disgust and grumble, “I’m not telling you anything ever again.”

Mick chuckles and finally says what I’ve wanted to hear. “I’m fine with it dude, seriously. We’re cool.”

The weight of the world was lifted from my shoulders from hearing that. I was most worried about how Mick would feel. Of course this whole time he’s been messing with me about Antony but I was never sure if he actually cared about my true feelings towards him or not. Thankfully Mick is an understanding friend. I guess he isn’t completely useless.

Now that that’s settled with I have more pressing matters at hand.

The relationship between Antony and I. It’s at a bit of a stand still…more than a bit. In fact since we kissed last week nothing has happened…nothing at all, not even a peck or a bit of flirting. It’s been…completely normal.

Antony comes home from work, as he always does. We eat the dinner I made, watch some TV together and talk about our days. Sometimes I manage to coax the old man into playing some video games with me, which he will always suck at. But that’s it…

The big question is, what are we? Are we friends who forgot about what happened a week ago or are we more than that? Antony seems to think we are the same as before…or maybe he’s waiting for me to make a move?

Is he nuts? I already made a move. I kissed him. I told him how I felt. That’s enough emotional drama shit for me. It’s his turn to do some damn work. What if I misunderstood, kiss him and end up getting thrown out?

Maybe I can trick him into saying something? I could always try and talk about Robin, see how he reacts. Ah, that’s mean. That’s low. He’d probably snort, call me a brat and angrily stalk off to his room where he’ll mope until he gets over it.

Yep…that sounds about right. That is very Antony like.

So what? Do I go with the flow? Wait for him to say something? Ugh, this sucks. Have relationships always been this complicated? Do all guys suck this badly at dating? Maybe a girl really is needed, to be blunt and point out what the hell is going on because obviously the guys can’t do it.

And after an eternity of thoughts I have come up with no solution so I return home and make dinner as I usually do. Through out the afternoon I try to think of ways to casually bring up this predicament to Antony but to no avail. When he returns I have no clue what to do. I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.

“Welcome home!” I shout upon hearing the door open and close. I get a grunt in response, which is his way of saying ‘had a bad day.’ Oh god…I’m like a housewife…I really am a woman. Mick was right!

“What’s with the look?” Antony asks from somewhere behind me. I look over my shoulder to find him placing himself at the table. He looks worn out, with half mast eyes and a ruffled shirt.

“What look?” I ask. “And don’t expect me to get the food for you. I’m not your housewife.”

Antony suddenly smirks his all mighty smirk. I wait patiently for some kind of arrogant response, which I of course get. “You were thinking about how you’re like my housewife earlier weren’t you?”

How in the hell did he… “No! I was not.”

“Were to.”

“Not.”

“Doesn’t matter if you admit it to yourself or not. You can’t hide the truth.”

“I am not a house wife!”