by Rowan Shaw
Startled, Ila jumped off the couch with a hiss and dashed to my room.
My hands were shaking. I thought I was going to have a panic attack. I couldn't fucking breathe. I knew better than to check my emails on this day, but every year, like a damn fool, I hoped it would be different. I thought she would be the one to change.
With a trembling hand, I grabbed my bottle and drank straight out of it, one gulp, two, three... I kept drinking until my vision blurred and my thoughts fogged over, until I could finally forget where the fuck I was or why I was here. I cursed as I slammed the bottle on the coffee table and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV. The channel was set on Arte playing some documentary about Yves Saint Laurent. I watched it in a haze. I had no clue what was going on. It was a tangle of monologues I was barely coherent enough to understand.
Ila came back to me, already forgiving me for scaring her, and she rubbed herself against the couch, then meowed my way.
"What do you want, chaton? I saw Raphaël left tuna in your bowl already."
She protested louder and jumped on my stomach, knocking the air out of me. When I stroked her soft fur, she took that as an invitation to push her head against my neck and exhale her fetid breath in my face.
"Yeah, you're not fooling me. You definitely had that tuna."
I tried to push her face away gently. Bad decision. She turned around and stuck her ass in my nose instead.
"Nice. Thank you, Ila. Yes, I know you trust me, but I don't need your asshole right where I breathe, thanks."
The door of the apartment opened right then, its creaking followed by familiar footsteps.
Raphaël, roommate extraordinaire.
He stepped into the living room and froze. "You're home?"
"No, this is just my astral projection," I slurred.
His eyes shifted toward the bottle of Scotch, then he looked at his watch. Then at the alcohol again. Then at me.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Why don't you come over here and check for yourself?"
He creased his forehead. "What's going on?"
"I got home. Just resting. I had a long weekend."
"Are you drunk?"
"That obvious, huh?"
"It's only seven P.M."
"So?"
He came to sit in the armchair, his beautiful hazel eyes never leaving me as he asked why the fuck I needed to get drunk this early in the evening. For a response, I seized the bottle and took another swig, then patted the empty space next to me.
"Why don't you come over here?" I slurred, flashing him a naughty smile. I didn't know if it was the alcohol or what, but he looked even more gorgeous today than usual.
"Are you flirting with me?" he asked.
"What if I am?"
Who was I kidding? I'd been wanting to fuck him from the moment he'd crossed my threshold. Only that could explain why I'd been so damn weak and told him to move in for such a low rent.
"Maybe you should go to bed."
I gave a cocky smile. "Is that an offer?" I looked him up and down, my eyes stopping at the promising bulge in his pants.
"Come on," he said, standing from his seat, holding his hand out to me. As if acting on a reflex, Ila hissed at him.
"Obviously, she doesn't want me to move."
Raphaël snatched the remote, turned off the TV, and held out his hand again. I almost fell backward when I tried to stand, but he was quick to catch me and wrap his arms around my shoulders to support me.
"Anyone ever told you that you smell divine?" I asked, taking a whiff of his sandalwood scent.
"Don't be weird," he scolded.
I followed him toward my bedroom, where I fell on the bed in a whoosh.
"Undress. I'll go get you some water."
I wriggled my eyebrows at his suggestion, but he rolled his eyes at me.
"Please keep your underwear on." When he left, I heard him mumble through his teeth, "How fucking drunk is he? Ila, why did you let him drink so much?"
I yanked my shirt off and tried to wriggle my way out of my jeans, nearly tripping over the legs. The room was spinning around me, my head dizzy. It took a few trials for me to make it out of that trap before I could lie on my fluffy comforter, wearing nothing but my tight briefs.
When Raphaël walked back in, I couldn't help but notice his eyes roaming my body from head to toe, outlining my pecs and abs, lingering on the bulge in my underneath.
"You like what you see?" I teased.
He cleared his throat and handed me the water that I forced myself to drink. I was so wasted, my lids so damn heavy, that his handsome face looked slightly blurred.
"Move a bit," Raphaël said, tugging at the cover so I could get underneath. I raised my ass in the air, my moves drawing his gaze straight to my crotch before he averted his eyes and tucked the comforter over me.
"You need anything?" he asked.
"Yeah, would you stay for a while?" I hated being so damn needy, but the loneliness I'd felt upon coming home wouldn't lessen. I was getting seriously horny too, which didn't help.
He hesitated for a second but gave a nod. "Sure. You gonna tell me what's going on or what?"
"Bof! C'est rien."
"Don't tell me it's nothing when you had to get so pissed drunk you can barely think, Adrien. What happened? Did something go wrong in New York?" he asked, sitting by my side.
I laughed at that. If he only knew. "No, New York was great."
"What is it, then?"
"Happy birthday to me," I sang sadly before some pathetic laugh rolled out of my throat.
"Oh, putain. Merde." He stared at me. "Today is your birthday?"
"Sure is. Twenty-six years of shit." I rolled my eyes, my head still spinning.
"You didn't tell me."
"It doesn't matter."
When he leaned closer, his cologne smelled so fucking good, it took all I had not to do anything stupid. I wanted to tempt him into debauchery and take his ass until he screamed my name.
"Would you let me suck your cock? I'm so damn horny," I slurred.
His eyes rounded as he jumped off the bed like I had the plague, then he swallowed the wrong way, choking on a cough. "Yeah, okay, I don't think so."
"You don't want to?" I asked, all doe-eyed. I'd never met a guy who said "no."
"Adrien, I'm not letting you suck my dick when you're pissed-drunk. That's rape, first of all. If we ever fuck, I want you to actually remember it."
I raised an eyebrow. Even in my drunkenness, I understood the message under his words. "So you'd let me suck your cock and fuck you if we were both sober, huh?"
He shook his head a bit too fast. "I didn't say that."
"Sure you did."
"I didn't. You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."
He wasn't fooling me at all. I knew what I'd heard.
I tried to get out of bed, wobbling to my feet.
"Where are you going?" he asked, rushing to my side to prevent me from falling on my ass.
"Getting more alcohol. Obviously."
"No, you're not."
I smiled the cockiest grin I could possibly muster.
"You think you're my dad or something?" I chuckled. "I don't think you'd want to be. He's an asshole of the worst kind. And according to him, I'm the worst son a man could possibly have."
Raphaël froze, staring at me. "Please lie down. I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."
"Fine."
I did as he said. Raphaël tucked me in. There was something comforting about him taking care of me. I couldn't remember the last time someone had done anything like that. He held on to his words and stayed there until my lids grew too heavy for me to keep staring at his gorgeous face.
Chapter 15
RAPHAËL
I watched as Adrien slept, his mouth open in a snore, a line of drool dripping from his fleshy mouth to his pillow. For the first time since I met him, he didn't show any kind of arrogance, cockiness, or playfulness. He looked ser
ene in his slumber, finally relaxed.
I didn't know if I should sleep in his room lest he vomit and choke on his own puke. I felt like a complete douche for not celebrating his birthday, but I had no way of knowing it was today. I was still confused by his comments concerning his father. I thought he'd said he had no family.
While he slept, I took the time to look at his room. His king-size bed was so large, I wondered how many people could sleep on it without falling off. The headboard was made of mahogany, but without ornamentation. The comforter on top was black, and there was only one pillow. The walls were a pale green similar to my room, though I found the lack of decorations weird considering how much art Adrien still had scattered around his studio. On his chest of drawers rested a TV and an exotic aquarium, huge, colorful, and peaceful to look at.
To complete everything, the room comprised one wardrobe of the same mahogany wood as the bed. That wasn't cheap furniture like in my room either. This stuff had to cost a bunch.
When the door creaked open and Ila walked in, meowing for her owner to notice her, I decided to leave Adrien alone for a few minutes. I needed to take a leak and eat something, so I fixed myself a salad that I took to the living room. Slumping on the couch, I tried to convince myself Adrien would be fine. The trick was to keep him hydrated, that was all.
I noticed a huge crack in the glass of the coffee table. I didn't remember it being there before. I ran my fingertips over it, my hand grazing against the mouse of Adrien's computer, turning the screen on. My eyes caught on an email addressed to him, the signature baffling me. The email came from his mom. Why would Adrien tell me he had no parents when he obviously did?
I blinked at the screen and skimmed through the lines, knowing full well I was intruding upon his privacy. Though the words were sweet, there was an undertone of blame to them I didn't understand. It took me a few minutes to process the truth about Adrien's life as I closed the laptop and retreated to his room, leaning against his doorframe.
He had rolled to the side, his back turned to me, the comforter pushed down low enough to expose his perfect body, his muscular back molded into beautiful shapes. Both his hands were stuck under his chin, his legs held up in a fetal position. He looked almost vulnerable in spite of his obvious physical strength.
I stared at him for way too long before my gaze fell on a few bottles of medication covering his nightstand table. One of them was PreP. Another one was Viagra. I squinted my eyes at that one. The third bottle read "lithium," the name making me blink.
Adrien seemed at peace when I lay by his side and turned toward him, confused. Until today, I'd never seen him show any signs of depression. Granted, I didn't see him as often as I would have thought, being his roommate. There'd been times when I came home to find him lounging in front of the TV, apathetic. Like a fool, I assumed he had a rough day at work. Now I wondered if he'd been feeling depressed.
I checked the time on my watch. It was too early for me to sleep, so I brought my stuff to his room and worked on my research while keeping an eye on him. Ila had curled at his feet, watching me like she would scratch my face off if I dared touch him. I never would have thought a cat could do the job of a guard dog, but Ila was protective enough of Adrien to make me wary.
I stayed there until he woke up late in the night, and I handed him some more water that I forced him to drink before he went back to sleep. Exhausted from my concern for him, I joined him in slumber, right there under his sheets.
Chapter 16
ADRIEN
I opened my eyes to the worst fucking headache, my skull pounding, my stomach twisting. I thought I might hurl.
"Salut," Raphaël said next to me.
I gazed at him through semi-closed eyes, trying hard not to puke my guts out.
"What time is it?"
"Seven." He handed me a glass of water.
"That'll make me throw up," I protested, pushing his glass away. The sight of it alone made my stomach heave. I wasn't sure how much liquid he'd made me drink since yesterday, but I needed to take a piss.
In spite of my protest, he brought the glass to my lips. "Drink it."
I sighed my disapproval, though I yanked it from him and forced myself to gulp down a few sips. "There. Happy?"
"How you feeling?"
"Like death."
He chuckled, shaking his head at me. "Drinking Scotch out of the bottle will do that to you."
His words made my stomach squeeze. "Ugh, don't mention alcohol right now." I turned toward his naked torso, my eyes stopping at his boxers before I looked at my semi-naked form. "We didn't have sex, did we?"
"No. I don't have sex with drunk people." He paused for a second as if hesitating. "You did offer to suck me off, but I refused." He gave a tiny lopsided smile. "I'm a real gentleman."
I laughed until the ice pick hammered at my head again, making me wince. "Too bad for you. I'm an expert at sucking cocks."
"They all say that," he teased.
"Maybe, but they don't always deliver. I do."
Repressing a smirk, Raphaël bit on his lips and went back to reading the book he'd dropped in his lap. When I got out of bed, he glanced at me from the corner of his eye.
"What was that email about?" he asked, making me pause.
"Excuse me?"
"The birthday email. What was that about?" He didn't look at me again, even when my voice ran cold.
"You've been snooping around?"
"No, the computer was on."
"So you thought it'd be a good idea to read my personal stuff?" I seethed, my head hurting like a motherfucker.
He shook his head, his eyes still riveted to his book. "It wasn't like that."
"Oh really? How was it, then?" I snapped. It pissed me off how he wouldn't face me while discussing this.
Raphaël let out a long sigh and finally deigned to meet my glare, his face marked with accusations as if I had betrayed him somehow. "You told me you had no family."
My nostrils flared. "I don't."
"You have a mom emailing you, though. And last night, you talked about your dad, too."
Fuck me!
"They're not my parents. They lost that privilege a decade ago."
Raphaël dropped his book in his lap. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, I really don't." I searched around for my pants, finding them in a pile by my chair. The room reeked of alcohol and urine. I sniffed around until I located the source: a pool of Ila's piss on Raphaël's t-shirt. "Ila doesn't seem happy you spent the night here. Either that or she's mad you read my emails."
"What do you mean?" he asked, sitting up quickly.
I jerked my chin at his top.
"What the hell?"
"I told you she retaliates." I laughed low in my throat until my aching brain pounded again like a damn sledgehammer. "She watches over me. Think about that next time you want to snoop into my stuff."
"I didn't snoop, and I slept here because I was looking out for you. Her protective instincts are way off."
"I don't know about that. Did you undress me last night, too?" I couldn't remember much after reading the email.
"I did not. Also, fuck you for implying I'm some kind of perv!" He got off the bed and picked up his t-shirt, smelling it and making a face. "I hate your damn cat," he grumbled between his teeth.
His outrage made me chuckle.
Far from amused, he glared daggers into me, his eyes slitting with irritation. "You think that's funny?"
"It's just piss, Raphaël. It'll come off with a wash. Here..." I grabbed the shirt from his hands. "I'll clean it for you."
He pushed his beautiful lips into an angry pout but still felt the need to coddle me. "Are you hungry? I can make you something."
My stomach curled at the thought of food. "Not hungry, thanks."
"Just some toast or something."
I sighed. He was stubborn as shit. "Whatever."
He nodded as if taking that for an invitation to breakfast. "I'll be
right back."
With nothing but his boxers on, he exited the room before I could respond. I found my shirt that was hanging from my chair and slid it on. I had no idea why he was being so nice to me, but I had to admit his attention did feel good. The trick was not to get used to it.
Chapter 17
RAPHAËL
Leaving Adrien behind to meet Charlotte in the early afternoon was more of an effort than I would have thought. I was still worried about him, though he did assure me he had work to do so there was no reason for me to stay.
"Are you okay? You look like you partied all night," Charlotte asked after a kiss on my cheek.
I grumbled under my teeth, "I wish."
"What's wrong?"
She held her jacket tightly around her chest and followed me into the courtyard. It was getting seriously cold, though it wasn’t as bad as it should have been this time of the year. A few weeks ago, the sky had turned gray—a dull color that no rays of sunlight managed to pierce through anymore. I hated this type of weather and wondered if it fed into Adrien's depression too.
"I stayed up half the night to make sure Adrien was okay," I explained, rubbing my upper arms to keep warm.
"Was he sick?"
"You could say that. I found him completely drunk when I got home. I was worried he might puke in his sleep and choke. I stayed with him almost the entire time."
"In his room?" She cocked an eyebrow.
"Haha, really funny. I'm really not in the mood," I groaned. I needed more coffee.
"I'm just saying... You're the one who told me he's queer."
"So what? I'm queer too."
"Exactly."
"Oh, so because he's queer and I'm queer, we're going to fuck? Really, Charlotte?!" I was too cranky for the jokes today. Of course I wasn't about to acknowledge how attractive I found Adrien. I didn't need to reinforce her belief that two queer guys couldn't cohabit without fucking. I wasn't going to tell her he offered me a blow job either. Adrien didn't seem to remember that when I told him this morning, anyway.
"I'm just kidding," she said, turning serious.