Friends like him were hard to find. Friends who stood by you through thick and thin. Through therapy, breakdowns, and days so low that all the drugs in the world couldn’t get you through them. But how much longer could I rely on him? Every time I pulled myself out of the gutter, something else happened, putting me right back there.
There was only so much he could do. At some point, I had to help myself. I just didn’t have the motivation to do that.
“Fuck, Seth. This is all I’ve ever wanted to do since I was a lad.”
“I know.” He paused, and I knew what came next. “Why don’t I come around and take your mind off it?”
As tempting as the thought was, sex with Seth brought its own problems that I didn’t have the energy to deal with. His feelings were just one of them.
I was a bastard, using him the way I was, but I couldn’t say no. Not today.
My mind wandered to the man I’d seen outside Rafferty’s. He’d looked so out of place. I’d glimpsed a bit of me in him. The evasiveness, the anxiety. He looked like he needed help.
I remembered Seth was waiting for an answer, and my mouth replied before I could engage my mind. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen.” It was hard to ignore the hope in his voice. Why did I keep leading him on?
He’d been with me through the toughest of times. I leaned on him when I had no one else. We’d fallen into this relationship, if you could call it that, which was no good for either of us. It would never lead anywhere. We’d been an emotional crutch for each other when we needed or craved touch or sex.
I gazed around the room as the line went dead. Shame and embarrassment filled me at the state of the place. Empty takeaway cartons, dirty mugs, and unwashed clothes were strewn about the place.
I sighed as I stood and began tidying up as best I could, trying to at least make it look halfway decent before he arrived.
I checked the bedroom. More unwashed clothes and an unmade bed stared back at me. I shoved the clothes in a corner, shook the duvet, and fluffed the flat pillows. That would have to do.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t stay long. Why couldn’t I have just said no? Because I didn’t want to upset him, although at some point, a conversation needed to be had.
I busied myself tidying up when a gentle knock on the door stopped me in my tracks. Had it been fifteen minutes already?
I glanced around me. It looked a little tidier, and a quick spray of room freshener barely masked the aroma of stale food and body odour. I shrugged out of my dirty shirt and threw on a cleaner T-shirt. Not sure why, as it’d probably end up on the floor with the rest soon enough.
“Hey, Kill. You look good.” Seth stepped towards me, his hand outstretched. I backed away and could have kicked myself seeing the rejection on his face.
“Sorry. I just…” Just what? Didn’t really want to go through with this? Felt bad for using him this way?
I leaned down and kissed his cheek. A sorrowful apology. He smiled weakly, knowing my heart wasn’t in whatever this was.
“It’s okay, Killian. I understand.” He walked dejectedly back to the door.
Fucking hell. Why was I like this?
I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he tensed. “Come in. Sit down, and we’ll have a drink.”
“If you’re sure.” His doleful eyes cut right through me. God, I hated myself.
“I’m sure.” Without thinking, I walked to the kitchen area and poured two shots of vodka, handing him one.
“Coffee. It’s not even midday, Killian.” He frowned at the glass in his hand.
Jesus. I couldn’t even get that right. “Give it to me. I’ll make coffee.”
I took it, but instead of tipping it away, I gulped it down, swiftly followed by mine. The fiery liquid burnt a path to my churning stomach. I gagged and swallowed down the saliva that filled my mouth.
Leaning on the edge of the sink, I closed my eyes and took a couple of steadying breaths, trying not to throw up.
Finally in control, I boiled the kettle and made two cups of coffee with the dregs of milk from the fridge. I hoped he didn’t want another.
We sat side by side on the sofa, our thighs touching.