Cleave

“I don't know, okay? He just told me to come home now. He didn't tell me why,” I said to Max, frustrated that he was fighting with me about having to leave. Max and I hadn't been on the best of terms recently. In fact, he was kind of driving me crazy. Every little thing I did, I did it wrong. Since the fight we had about me losing my job (which I got back, by the way) things have just kinda sucked. Max was always right, I was always wrong. End of discussion. I was getting really sick of it, which was why I wasn't going to let him manipulate me into staying at his place that night when Drew needed me home.

“He must have said something about what it was about,” Max replied, and I let out a groan.

“For the last time, he didn't,” I snapped. “I'm going now. I'll call you tomorrow. Goodbye.”

I was so annoyed that I didn't even bother kissing him goodbye; I just grabbed my phone and keys from the dining table and left.

I spent the short drive home wondering what the hell was going on with Drew that he needed me home immediately. He was usually better at explaining things, but it seemed like he was purposely leaving information out.

When I pulled into the driveway next to Drew’s car, I took a moment to study the house to see if I could figure anything out, but everything looked remarkably normal. With a sigh, I walked up to the front door and entered.

“I'm here! What do you want, Drew?” I shouted as I made my way through the house, looking into random rooms to see if I could find him. “Max is fucking pissed at me, so this better be good, or I'll beat the shit out of –” I stopped abruptly as I looked into the kitchen. Drew was in there, but he wasn't alone. I was silent for a few seconds as my brain processed the situation. “What are you doing here?” I finally asked Micah.

His facial expression morphed into a confused frown and I knew why. My tone was not exactly friendly.

“I…” he began, but stopped, clearly not knowing what to say. He glanced at Drew, who sighed.

“He's here for you two to talk,” my best friend told me. I shook my head.

“I don't want to talk,” I replied through gritted teeth. The last thing I wanted was for Micah to break my fucking heart for a third time. I turned to him. “Get out. I don't want to talk to you.”

“Angel, you are going to fucking talk. You both have things you need to say, now get on with it. I'm leaving, don't kill each other,” Drew said with finality before he left the room to go into his bedroom. I glared after him for a moment, before turning my glare on Micah.

“I told you to leave,” I snarled.

“No,” he replied simply.

“No? You can't tell me ‘no’, this is my fucking house. How dare you come in here and expect me to listen to anything you say when you didn't even have the decency to call or text me after I gave you my number. I gave you the benefit of the doubt and you threw it back in my face. Not to mention that you fucking left me without even one fucking word. You broke my fucking heart,” I shouted, my voice breaking towards the end as tears started forming in my eyes. I was finally letting out everything I had been feeling about this entire situation for over a year and I was barely keeping myself together.

“You broke mine too, Angel,” he said quietly. I scoffed. I didn't believe that for a second.

“How the fuck did I do that, huh? I bet you were having the time of your life wherever the fuck you were, while I nearly died when your mom said you'd chosen to get away from me so I’d stop infecting you with the gay. So tell me, Mr Born-Again Christian, how did I manage to break your heart?”

Micah stared at me for a few seconds, then, incredulously, he let out a bark of a laugh.

“What?” I demanded.

“You really think I left by my own choice? Come on, Angel, are you really fucking serious right now?” he said, laughing again, and if he was trying to make me even angrier, he succeeded. I clenched my fists as I scowled at him, waiting for him to explain further. “My mother sent me to my aunt’s to get me away from you. She took my phone and sent me hours away with only a bunch of clothes and told my aunt to cure me. So yeah, I really fucking wanted to go, and I was definitely having the time of my life getting constantly abused verbally and a few times physically and the best part was when I found out that you already had a new boyfriend, who's a fucking asshole, by the way, after only a couple of months apart,” he explained angrily, his voice raising into a shout as he spoke.

I don't know why the only thing that seemed to stick in my brain from Micah’s speech in that moment was his insult about Max, but I jumped on it. “Max saved my life, don't you dare speak about him like that. You don't know him.”

“Yeah? And you do? Did he tell you that he's the reason I haven't called or texted since I saw you at McDonald’s?” Micah shot back.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I spat. Micah laughed again.

“Seriously? You are so blind. What was it that attracted you to him? His smile? His eyes? Cause I mean, he is gorgeous. Or was it his personality? Because guess what, you're both assholes so you have that in common. Or maybe he's really oblivious as well? As soon as you walked away, he grabbed the paper you wrote your number on and ripped it up, then he threatened to hurt you if I tried to speak to you again. Real kind and supportive guy you've got there,” Micah told me, finishing sarcastically.

“I… You're lying,” I said automatically, even though I knew he was telling the truth.

“Yeah. I'm lying, whatever you think,” Micah muttered, then after a few seconds of silence, spoke again, his voice raised, “You know what, Angel. Maybe you two deserve each other. I spent a whole fucking year not being able to have feelings for anyone else because I was still hung up on you, but you were clearly able to move on pretty damn quick, which makes me think you never really loved me in the first place. I guess my mother was right after all and I really –”

I cut him off with a strangled cry of ‘no’ as I launched myself at him, shoving him hard against the cupboard behind him. My hands held tightly onto his shoulders while my forehead pressed against his.

“No. She wasn't right,” I growled, and then I kissed him roughly. He responded immediately, kissing me back just as hard. It was a sheer battle of force, and it was hard to tell who was winning. One moment, my tongue was exploring his mouth and pulling on his pierced bottom lip, and the next he had turned us around so that my back was against the cupboard and his teeth were sinking into the flesh of my neck as he gave me a hickey that lasted well over a week.

Our hands fumbled with each other's belt buckles, as we continued to kiss rough, hard, passionately. We broke apart for a few seconds to dispose of each other’s shirts, and I wasted no time in kissing down his body until I got to the waistband of his jeans, where I popped open the button and unzipped the fly. I was surprised to find Micah wearing nothing under his jeans, but that just made it easier to do what I did next. I pulled his hardening dick out of his pants and stroked it for a few seconds before taking it in my mouth, pushing his jeans down and out of the way. Micah moaned loudly as I sucked him off, my hand snaking into my pants to play with myself, until he tapped me on the head as an indication to stop, which I did, looking up at him. His hair was sweaty and messy, matted to his forehead and he was breathing heavily, but God he looked beautiful.

“Fuck me, please,” he begged. He pulled me up to my full height and kissed me deeply. “Please,” he whispered, and I couldn't have denied him even if I wanted to. I nodded, kissing him again.

Micah stepped out of his jeans that were still sitting at his ankles and wrapped his legs around my waist. I supported him under his ass as I carried him to my bedroom. He wasn't exactly light, but it wasn't much of a struggle either. I laid him down on the bed and then went about ridding myself of my remaining clothes and getting the necessary items out of my bedside drawer, placing them on top. Micah looked next to him where the condom and lube were, then grabbed the lube and threw it on the floor before picking up the condom.

I looked at him curiously, wondering why he didn't want to use lube, and he grinned, seemingly able to read my mind. “I want it rough,” he explained, ripping open the condom package and handing me the contents. I simply nodded (even though a wave of excitement rippled through me at his words) and rolled the condom over my length. Then I pulled him roughly into a position I liked, before leaning over him and kissing him.

“Ready?” I asked. He made a noise of affirmation, then, as was his wish, I slammed into him with no warning, making him cry out. “Shit. You okay?”

“Oh, God yes. Keep going,” he groaned, and so I did, hitting roughly into him, while also trying to find his prostate and checking for any signs that he wasn't enjoying the intensity, but if the noises coming from his mouth were anything to go by, he was enjoying it immensely and so was I. It was the first time in a very long time that I had actually enjoyed sex.

Soon, after I finally found the spot I was looking for, our movements became jerky and I knew that we were both close. I grabbed his leaking member and pumped him along with my thrusts, bringing us both to the spectacular finish that left us both panting and covered in sweat and other bodily fluids, which I cleaned up with a tissue before I lay down on the bed next to Micah, who was still laying there in post-orgasm bliss.

We lay silently for what felt like an eternity, but it was a pleasant silence, not at all awkward. I think we were about to drop off to sleep, but there was one thing I needed to say before we did.

“I never stopped loving you,” I told him, rolling so that I was facing him. He turned as well and wrapped an arm around my waist as he pulled me in for a kiss.

“Me either. I'll always love you,” he murmured, before he nuzzled his head into my chest and we stayed quietly in that position until we both drifted off to sleep.