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I’ve noticed stories like these always contain a segment that goes “It was … am” because these things always happen early in the morning or at night or whatever. The night always brings out the worst in us. Makes our memories jump alive and go “Remember this bad thing you’ve been drinking away?”
“Remember when you tried to kill yourself? Fun times.”
Memories suck at night but that wasn’t my point. People always start out by telling what time it was when the deeds took place. I won’t.
Because I didn’t know what time it was. I just woke up, feeling disoriented. I didn’t look at the clock, didn’t look at my phone. I only registered a sound.
A clattering downstairs like someone dropped a frying pan. Why’d you pick the frying pan out of all kitchen utensils? I don’t know, ok?
Point was, I heard a noise and it threw me back to my days as a child where I’d think there was a monster in the closet. There’s a monster downstairs. No there isn’t. Monsters aren’t real.
BANG
Ok, maybe they are…
I blinked until the darkness took shape and got up. I had to go downstairs to find the monster if I wanted to sleep. Ever again.
But wait, I needed a weapon to defend myself.
Oh God, what if it was a burglar?
Nonononono
I can’t NOT feel safe in this house anymore. Wait, why the fuck am I acting like such a pussy? I live with fucking Patrick and Joe for God’s sake. Only I couldn’t run to Patrick going “There’s a monster downstairs”. It was God knows what time… See? I had no idea what time it was.
Patrick would kill me for waking him. And Joe was out again. He seemed to stay at Andy’s a lot lately. Wonder what was going on between those two.
Again, I needed a weapon to defend myself if I’d go downstairs by myself. My eyes skimmed the room, inevitably stopping at my bass.
I didn’t want to use it as a weapon.
No, not the bass.
NO, not the bass.
Fuck it, I’m taking the bass.
I firmly grasped the bass around the neck and carefully stepped outside my room. Yeah, that’s gonna look very scary. A skinny guy in boxers with a bass guitar for a weapon. I inched down the stairs, one by one. Almost there.
CLING
The sound was there again.
My foot stepped on the downstairs’ tiles. No going back now. I checked the front door. It wasn’t open and still locked. I checked the backdoor, locked as well. It was no burglar. Ghost? Monster?
God damn it, Pete, cut it out. You’re making yourself paranoid.
I took a deep breath as I neared the kitchen, eyes shut tightly and hands wrapped firmly around my bass, holding it like baseball bat before I kicked open the door to hear a yelp.
Wait, monsters didn’t yelp.
“Patrick?”
“My nose”, the younger whined. “That hurt, Pete.”
I put down my bass against the kitchen wall and walked towards him, hands on his wrists as he held his nose in his hands. “Let me see.”
“It’s not bleeding. What did you do that for?”
“I heard a noise…”
“So you assumed the worst and tried to bust my nose?” Patrick asked sarcastically.
I scratched my head. “I guess? What was the noise about anyway?”
“I dropped a frying pan and it made everything clatter even more. Like, everything fell out of the cupboard.”
HA! It WAS a frying pan!
“Why are you downstairs anyway? Thought you’d be sleeping?” I wondered but I wish I hadn’t when I saw his reaction. His face went from angry and snappy at the same time to downright sad. Like he remembered why he hadn’t been sleeping.
“You’re gonna laugh.”
“No, promise”, I said, hands on his biceps as he had his arms folded. “I won’t.”
“I had a major nightmare. Like… not knowing it’s not real and waking up paranoid.”
“Night terror”, I corrected. “A nightmare’s an understatement for that type of thing.”
He shrugged. “A night terror then. I wanted to take my mind off of it by pouring myself some hot milk.”
“With a frying pan”, I stated sarcastically and Patrick shrugged.
Whatever, I can’t cook for shit but I’m pretty sure you don’t use a frying pan to heat milk. I would’ve put it in the microwave but then again, I’d put anything in the microwave. “Go sit, I’ll make you some.”
He shook his head. “I know how to make myself a hot drink, Pete.”
“So I’ve seen”, I responded, lightly pushing him towards the living room. “Sit.”
“Fine.”
Since we were awake anyway, I might as well ease his nerves a little. He really seemed shaken. All pale and shit. You can’t see that through the dark, idiot. I know. I made us both some hot chocolate milk, probably going through way too much trouble of putting whipped cream on it. Hey, I care about my boyf-… best friend. Ha, you almost admitted it. Shut up.
Patrick eagerly took the cup I offered him when I joined him. Eyes wide at the whipped cream. “You didn’t have to, Pete.”
“I wanted to”, I hushed him, my hands still around his holding the cup before I got my own and joined him. “You wanna talk about the terrors?”
“Just something stupid.”
“It’s not stupid if it upset you”, I offered, sipping my hot beverage before I put it on the table. I kicked my feet on top of the coffee table and lay down into the cushions of the couch.
Patrick burned his tongue on the drink and put it down to cool it off. He swung his feet on the couch, resting his back half against the cushion and half against my shoulder. “I dreamt about losing it all. Everything we have now. I lost it. I was on my own.”
“Where was I?” I wondered.
Patrick moved his head to look at me, sinking further against me. “You were married and had two sons.”
“Me? Married? Ha!”, I mocked him but he raised an eyebrow. “You don’t wanna get married?”
“Only if you go down on one knee and ask me properly”, I teased him and he chuckled in response. “You’re such an idiot. I meant in general. Don’t you want the married life?”
“I want a happy life and right now, I can’t find a woman in the world who would make me happy”, I replied, diving forward to get my cup, slightly squeezing Patrick in the process.
“A man?” Patrick asked, unexpectedly and I choked on my drink. “A man?”
“Yeah. If there’s no woman for you. Would there be a man out there for you?” Patrick asked and I shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll ever find a guy closer to me than you.”
You did not just say that.
I did…
“That’s really cheesy, you know that?”
“It’s true. I’m gonna die alone without you”, I joked and Patrick lay his head down, now resting on my stomach as we lay on the couch in the middle of the night. I could fall asleep like this.
“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“It’s true”, I yawned. “You know me inside out but what about you in your dream? Didn’t you have a wife and kid?”
“No”, he responded a lot faster than I considered normal. A little too eager to shoot that idea down. “You don’t want that?”
“I want a husband”, Patrick whispered, barely audible but I caught onto it. “I had no idea. And here I thought I knew you inside out as well.”
The singer chuckled, hand reaching out to flick me against the nose. “Shut up. You’re not supposed to react to my coming out like that.”
“My bad, let’s do it again”, I hushed him. “Come on, say it again.”
Patrick rolled his eyes, slowly saying “I want a husband” but before he finished the sentence, I gasped so hard I choked on my spit, coughing violently. Patrick lost it, laughing loud enough to wake the house. Oh wait, Joe was out, right.
“You alright?” he asked and I nodded with tears in my eyes. He got up and awed. “You don’t have to cry, Pete. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was gay before…”
“Dick”, I wheezed. “I choked on your sexuality.”
Patrick shrugged. “Better than your first reaction?”
“True”, I grinned. “How’d you know you were into guys?”
“Cause I’m attracted to them”, the younger man said like it was the most normal thing in the world. I rolled my eyes. “How?”
“I feel the need to be close to… well, yeah… guys.”
“Like me?” I chimed, hopeful but it was the right amount of hopeful to make it seem like I was joking. Patrick’s face reddened as he shifted to sit next to me, facing the table. “You are the closest friend I have so… kinda?”
I’ll take it. I put my arm around his shoulders and said. “Everyone’s bisexual. Most people just don’t know it.”
“And here I thought I knew you inside out”, Patrick mocked my earlier tone with a grin.
I smiled, wanting to kiss that grin more than anything now. I could feel my temperature rise alongside my nerves. Play cool. He admitted being attracted to you… kinda?
“I said you’ll always be the closest to me so yeah, you do know me”, I admitted, setting the mood a lot more serious than he probably liked because the grin melted off his face and made way for confusion.
Shit.
I had to act fast before the moment was gone. I moved closer, watching his eyes widen before I captured his lips hesitantly, a short but intimate kiss as I moved back to look at him, tongue flicking over my chapped lips. He’d been so soft, face the shade of red his lips were.
He looked at me, slightly shocked.
“What? Is there something on my face?” I asked to break the silence, joking to ease my own nerves.
Patrick blinked and shook his head. “No… that’s the problem.”
Huh?
The other moved forward to kiss me this time and slowly moved against me, putting his heart into the kiss. He tasted like whipped cream and chocolate. I could just drown in it. His weight dropped in my lap, hands holding my jaw and I wrapped my arms around his waist.
“Whoa, I did not expect that.”
We both jumped in our seat, looking up to see Joe standing in the doorway. “I’m home by the way.”
“Oh… hey”
“And if this is a thing now, I’m dating Andy just so you know”, Joe called out before heading upstairs. “Night, guys!”
“It’s a thing”, I murmured, staring into bright blue eyes, greeting me with a smile.