75: What You've Sown

“Fuuuuuck,” Stephen dragged his palms over his face, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Chris was lying on the bed next to him, face propped on his fist, smiling from ear to ear.

“Honey, is that how you’re going to talk to me after last night?”

Stephen froze, “What happened last night?”

Chris dragged his teeth over his lower lip, “It was just like old times.”

Stephen rolled to grab his phone, it was 6AM. He wasn’t late, he had hours before work. He exhaled heavily. Chris snuggled up to his back, and squeezed his ass, “Maybe even better?” Chris added, “You weren’t this fit back then. I missed your tight a–”

“Oh my god shut up. I know we didn’t do anything.”

Chris rolled back with a pout, “You could play along you know. You used to be more fun.”

Stephen sat up, grimacing, his head was pounding and he was nauseous, “Why are you still here? Why are you in my bed?”

“You called me, you know, you could show some gratitude. You were a disaster last night. I’ve never seen you that drunk.”

“I didn’t call you to come over,” Stephen answered weakly. He barely remembered calling Chris at all.

“Yeah, you were just yelling at me, but I could tell it’s what you wanted.”

Stephen scrubbed his eyes again, he could not take Chris’ antics right now.

“Anyway, you were incoherent when I got here, so I stayed in case you choked on your barf and died in your sleep. You should really be thanking me.”

“How did you even get in here?” Stephen looked down at himself; he was still wearing yesterday’s torn shirt, but his pants were gone. Above his boxers, his abs were covered in dried semen. The tips of his ears burned, and he hoped Chris hadn’t noticed.

“Pfft, your door code has been the same since you lived with Julian. Wasn’t it the same code as your childhood home too? You’re gonna get robbed.”

Stephen stood up and swayed on his feet, “Hang on, I’m gonna go puke. Then I’m gonna shower.” He pointed at Chris’ annoying face, “You go make coffee.” Chris rolled his eyes, and Stephen staggered to the bathroom, peeling the remnants of his clothes off as he went.

When he sat at the table, clean and damp, wrapped in a soft housecoat, and feeling marginally less sick, Chris had coffee made. He passed Stephen a cup and sat down across from him.

“He left you, huh?” he said, between sips. Stephen glared at him. “Don’t look at me like that. You told me yourself last night.”

‘He didn’t leave me,” Stephen took too big of a sip and burned his tongue, “Blegh. He didn’t leave me yet. It’s just...not looking good.” Stephen perched the heel of his foot on the chair and wrapped his arm around it, placing his chin on top. He felt...hollow. The rage and frustration from the night before (which he had probably directed at Chris) was gone, replaced by a deep ache, and the despair of loneliness that would take a long long time to go away.

“I’m not surprised. You’re terrible to date.”

Stephen glowered at him again, “I’m not, I’m a great boyfriend.”

“Mmm that’s not how I remember it. He seemed soft too. Bet he couldn’t handle your bullshit.”

“That’s not true, he’s not...I didn’t..” Stephen paused. Why was he struggling to defend himself? Why was he even explaining? Ah. He was still drunk.

“So,” Chris said cheerily, sounding like an early morning radio show interviewer, “Was it cheating? Did you cheat on our little Inho?”

“No.”

“No?” Chris laughed, “Lucky him.”

“I love him,” Stephen tried out the words again. Testing if they were still true, “He’s different. I’m different, now. We’ve been over this before. I’m sorry, okay? It was wrong. I was young and I made a mistake.”

“Made it over and over again. How many times did you make that mistake again? Five guys? Ten?” Chris laughed again and raised his eyebrows in polite inquiry, as though he were asking about the brand of coffee.

“Fuck off. Why don’t you just get out? Why did you act like everything was fine for the last decade?”

Chris’ smile faded.“Because you were unhappy. You were just as messed up and alone as me.”

“And you want me to stay that way? You’re a really broken person. You’re sick,” Stephen didn’t have the patience left in his unhappy and hungover state to mince words.

“Hmm is it that?” Chris tapped his lips with a finger, “I think maybe it’s just that we’re the same. Isn’t that why you called me? Nobody understands you the way I do.”

“We’re not the same. I haven’t been obsessed with this for years the way you clearly have. Now stop acting like a weirdo and go home, before I get angry.”

“I wanted to leave you too you know,” Chris’ expression changed sharply. His grey eyes caught Stephen’s and held them, “While you were out fucking other guys, I wanted to break up with you too.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Stephen snapped, standing up suddenly, knocking his chair back with a clatter. He put his fists on the table and leaned forward, “Why couldn’t you have saved me the trouble, huh?”

“‘Cause you didn’t have anyone else,” Chris remained calm in the face of Stephen’s fury, “You act like you left your family, but they cut you out, really.” He took a drink of his coffee, his eyes still locked on Stephen’s, “I didn’t want to abandon you like everyone else did.”

Stephen flinched.

“Think how fucked up you’d be if the only person you had left to love abandoned you? Why,” Chris paused for dramatic effect, “It’d probably look a lot like right now wouldn’t it?” He flourished his hand indicating the current situation and began to laugh.