In the End [MxM] | Short Story ✔️

Part Two

Don't forget to vote !

There's a mention of two males together. You have been warned.

---

Carl Hudson

Pressing on the doorbell again, I waited.

I didn't try too hard, but still, I ended up wearing an off-white shirt and black jeans that stuck to my body like second skin.

The place looked the same since a month ago. Large, modern, expensive. All, Jay Walkers looking.

I brushed my hair back, scratching the back of my neck when it tickled and tucked my hand into the front pocket. The door opened, revealing a nicely dressed Jay, with a spatular in hand.

"Come in, I'm almost finished."

I followed the orders and stepped into the apartment. Walking in through the familiar place, my mind itched to know if I'd be meeting anyone else. I didn't want to.

Ignoring how the whole place smelled like home, and of Jay, I walked to the living room side of the building, placing the shopping bag at the tea table.

"Sorry, I didn't bring anything fancy to say thank you for the meal." Jay looked up from whatever dish he was preparing. "I have everything packed and didn't want to spend too much because it's all saved up for Rosy."

He didn't say anything even if he wanted to. I was grateful.

I continued to scan the place. The tv, the bookstand, the shelves filled with snow globes and the cute little beanbags in the corner. Everything was the same.

"Sit down-"

"No, it's fine. I'm good." Then I turned to him, tucking both my hands into my pocket. My inked shirt slipped a micro centimeter. "Need any help?"

He looked hesitant before eyeing the cupboards at the top. "Just with the plates."

I moved around easily, knowing the place by heart. I'd taken out the same plates a few times in the past and felt uncomfortable to do it as a guest instead.

When I opened the top cupboard, I clicked my tongue when I noticed that the dishes and plates, were all the way at the back. I needed a stool.

"I think I need a stool."

Before I could turn around and ask for one, I was suddenly pressed to the counter, back against warmth. A hand landed on my hips, making me still while the other reached farther than my hands could go, easily getting the plates.

My breath hitched as I waited for him to let me go. He stayed still though, and then suddenly, I felt his chest pushing me more and his breath on my ear.

"Still a shorty I see..." he whispered with a thick voice and I tamed the shiver that ran through my body.

Closing my eyes, I regained my posture. "Got the plates?"

"What? Oh... um, yes. Yes, here you go." He moved away and I finally let out a shake breath. 

Turning, I didn't meet his eyes as I took the things to the small dining table made for four. He went back to finishing preparations and I got to running a hand through the drawers to get the cutleries. Nothing was changed. Everything remained the same.

We silently got the table ready. I sat on the chair near the kitchen, facing his dark hallways to the other rooms. I gulped, looking away. I didn't want to remember anything about those rooms.

"How's the food?"

I looked up, watching Jay take a piece of chicken in his mouth. My plate was filled with chicken and salad. I'd picked the tomatoes out though to a side. He knew that I don't like tomatoes. Did he do it on purpose?