“Damn that bastard! I’m going to kick his ass, then I’m going to kiss him until he forgets his own name.” He rose to his feet with determination. “He’s my man and she can’t have him!”
A student the next isle over shushed him.
With a laugh, Keith headed for home.
*****
Keith came in the door and stopped in surprise. It was well after eight and yet Jason, Kelly, Scott and Toni were all still there playing Monopoly at the table. Kelly squealed in delight and demanded Scott pay up for landing on her hotel. Scott sneered and told her that if she wanted to charge people this much, she really ought to get rid of the cockroaches.
Jason shook the dice in his hand with a laugh that cut off as he spotted Keith. “Uh, hey, man. You’re all wet.”
Keith had his hands shoved in the front pouch of his sweat shirt. He blushed and looked at the floor as he shuffled his feet. He was prepared to face Mike, but facing his friends after his blowup was still a little embarrassing. “Um, yeah, it’s still raining out. Guess a sweatshirt isn’t much protection.” He coughed to clear his throat, looking up the stairs as if he could see where Mike was. “Is . . . um, is he up there?”
“Depends, are you going to try and make him a soprano again? OUCH!”
Keith watched as Kelly kicked Scott under the table and rolled his eyes and headed up the stairs two steps at a time. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Music was pumping from his room. It sounded like his latest CD of Trapt. What would Mike be doing in his room? His heat fluttered erratically in his chest as he slowly pushed open the door to his room. Mike was sitting on the floor near the end of his bed, stacking his books and CD’s that had fallen off the shelf when Scott had crashed into it. Mike looked so lost, Keith’s breath caught in his throat. Leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, Keith let out a sigh. “It really hurt, you know?”
Mike’s head whipped around, guilt and anguish reflecting in his eyes, but he wisely stayed silent.
Keith shook his head, his wet hair falling in his eyes. “I wanted to hate you for it. I wanted to hate her. There was even a part of me that wanted to hurt you so you would know how much I was hurting, how betrayed I felt when you couldn’t remember my name. I didn’t understand how you could simply forget my name after everything we’d been through, after the promises we made. I don’t make promise easily, Mike. ” A hallow laugh escaped him. “But then I saw the panic in your eyes as soon as you realized your mind couldn’t focus enough to remember who it was you’d just had sex with, your own boyfriend’s name slipping from your mind, leaving me a stranger. She must be pretty talented with that tongue of hers.”
Mike shook his head, a tear sliding down his cheek. He looked down at the CD in his hand and brushed angrily at it with his sleeve.
In the two years he’d known Mike, Mike had never cried before, not once. Keith smiled and walked over to him, gently settling himself on Mike’s lap, his knees on either side of Mike’s hips. He brushed at the tears that were falling freely now when Mike looked up at him startled. “That’s why I had to leave, Mike, why I couldn’t talk to you right then. Not after what you did, then with my Father on top of it.” Keith sighed. “Deep down, I didn’t want to hurt you the way you hurt me. You did it without thought, didn’t mean to do it. I would have and I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you like that intentionally.”
“I’m so sorry. I never meant to,” Mike whispered. His voice caught in his throat.
Keith leaned in until his forehead was resting against Mike’s. “I know you didn’t.”
“I wanted to be the person who was always there for you, who would never hurt you.” Mike sniffed. “Guess I failed, huh?”
“Mike, look at me,” Keith commanded when Mike looked away from him. He took Mike’s face in his hands, making him look. “No one is perfect, I know that. I don’t want you to be perfect. I like the fact that you are a jock and a flirt and overly protective. I don’t expect you to be infallible. Christ knows I’m not, far from it.” He brushed his fingers through Mike’s blond locks. “You hurt me, I can’t deny that and I wont. But I’m not going to condemn you for it, either. At least, not this time. You ever do it again and I may just have to castrate you.”
Mike let out a shaky laugh and grabbed Keith, holding him close. He buried his head in Keith’s shoulder and just breathed in his scent, ignoring the wetness that was soaking his clothing. “I wouldn’t blame you if you just wanted to walk away, Keith. I know how scared you were to even try a relationship with me and I screwed it up royally in record time. If you want to run, run now or I may never let you go.”
“I’m tired of running. You are mine and I’m not going to let you forget it.” Keith kissed the top of Mike’s head. He moved his hips ever so slightly against Mike’s, feeling him swell instantly. “Plus, I’m not feeling too bad right now.”
“I’ll make this up to you, I will. I don’t know how, but I will, I promise you, Keith.”
“‘What wound did ever heal but by degrees?'” Keith said softly. He laughed at Mike’s perplexed expression when he pulled back. “William Shakespeare’s Othello, Act 2, Scene 3.”
Mike raised an eyebrow with a grin. “Only you would quote Shakespeare at a time like this.”
Keith kissed his nose. “Would you have me any other way?”
“At the moment? I’d like to have you out of those wet clothes and squirming under me with moans of pleasure.”
Keith laughed with a blush and started to move off of Mike’s lap. “Let’s worry about the clothing first, you horn dog.”
Mike pulled Keith back down, gripping him tightly. He’d almost lost him by being stupid. He wouldn’t do it again. Keith meant too much to him. Placing his hands on either side of Keith’s head, he pulled him in for a plundering kiss, his tongue showing no mercy. Desperation and need warred with desire. He could feel Keith’s hands grip his shoulders as a little moan rose from his lover’s throat. It was the sexiest damn sound he’d ever heard.
When the kiss ended, Keith rested his forehead against Mike’s, his breath ragged. “Damn you kiss good.”
“Not half bad yourself.”
“Um, Mike?”
“Yeah?”
“I really need to get out of these clothes. Wet jeans get . . . um . . . really tight.”
Mike let out a throaty laugh as he watched Keith’s face go crimson. He gripped the bottom of the dripping sweatshirt and began to pull it up over Keith’s head. “I’ll help you out of them, but there is no guarantee I’ll let you get into something else.”
“But, Mike,” Keith shot a look over at the still open bedroom door as his sweatshirt landed with a plop on the floor over in the corner. His voice dropped to a nervous whisper. “The doors open! And incase you have forgotten, we still have people downstairs!”
“You’re point would be?” Mike leaned in and suckled on Keith’s collar bone, making him quiver. His hot tongue dove into the hallow against Keith’s chilled skin.
“Christ,” Keith moaned, arching his back. His hand dove down and grabbed Mike through his jeans. “Two can play at that game, bastard. Now let me up.”