Secret Door

Twenty-One

"Alex?"

"Hmmm," I hummed, noncommittal as Archie walked in on me, sipping stale beer in front of some rubbish programme on telly. Barely aware, barely awake, empty. I had my injured leg propped up on the coffee table. Fuck, it bloody hurt. I had forgotten to take my meds with me when I left Miles' place. Whatever. Alcohol would numb me enough to relieve all the pain in my body. 

"You need anything?" Archie asked, plopping himself down next to me on the sofa.

I shook my head silently. He drank his own beer and turned to the TV. I had desperately came to his flat last night after the....fight. I don't even remember what all I had spewed to Archie in my emotional rage. I don't think it was anything too personal; to touchy. I turned to look at him. The atmosphere was awkward, confused, lost. I looked down into my bottle. 

---

"Al?" 

"Ugh, shut up and just kiss me, will ya? I know you've wanted to since the day we met so don't bother pretending."

"You're not lying...but what about Miles?"

"Don't remind me." 

I leaned in, pushing Archie back on his bed, pressing carnal, angry kisses across his scruffy beard. He was so prickly..not like Miles' beard. It was soft, fuzzy..right adorable. 

NO! Fuck him.

"Do you have any coke?" I sat up.

"What kind of question?" he smirked back. I smiled as he got up to get it.

Alone, I was too sober. My mind wandered back to Miles' beard. I liked to play with it, pulling on the hairs until some loose ones fell. He would always get mad at me and swat my hand away, but smirk to himself when he thought I wasn't paying attention. 

FUCK. I was much too sober.

Archie came back with the coke.

"Thank god," I said, grabbing the bag that he threw my way. 

"And now, you're right. I am a drug addict, and it's because of you."

I leaned over the small mirror in my lap. I saw eyes that weren't mine staring up at me. Dark, bleak, eyes. Vacant eyes. With nothing to lose. I squeezed them shut, and hit the line quick. I knocked my head back, the familiar, comforting rush seeping through me the slow way it did. I sighed in a disturbed sort of relief. Rinse, repeat. Rinse, repeat. 

I looked at Archie, now laying underneath me, smoking a joint in just his plaid boxers and a gold chain. I grimaced internally. Miles wouldn't be caught dead in those trashy things. His boxers would be something flashy; silky red or shiny cheetah. Maybe just classic black, and soft as the rubbed against my legs when he crawled into bed. I leaned over the mirror again. With my mind spinning enough, I kissed Archie again. The strong stench of whiskey trailed through my mouth. Miles liked sweet champagne. I kissed Archie harder, rubbing my hand against his growing hard on. His hands found my zipper and soon we were undressing each other frantically.

"Condoms? Lube?" 

He pointed to the drawer next to the bed, not seeming terribly concerned. Miles never forgot condoms. 

 I sat on top of his almost lifeless body, on his third joint now as he watched me. He grunted quietly as I eased onto him. I kissed him, pulling on his sweaty hair. I sucked and kissed on his scraggly neck. I was frantic, rough, hard, dirty. Sinfully dirty. I pulled out all the stops, everything that made Miles come viciously every time. 

It took Archie three minutes. He hardly moved an inch. His whines were high in his throat, tight, clenched and struggling. Miles took long, he moved with me, he helped me, he talked to me. He always said my name in short, breathless gasps. 

I climbed off. 

"Fuck...Al.." Archie muttered, stretching his legs. 

I took my cigarettes from the bedside table and walked to the bathroom. I got myself off, cried, smoked two.

I donned Archie's cheap satin robe and walked out on the balcony. I smoked five cigarettes, one after another, until I felt my high slipping through my fingers and the cold air bringing me headfirst into reality. 

When I came back in Archie was asleep. Miles cuddled after sex. Always. At first I had been neutral, but after a while I needed it like I needed my coke high at 8 AM before breakfast. 

I walked into the living room, inspected the stereo, turned it on, and let the selected CDs spin at random. I laid back in the sofa, smoking again. I mostly heard a wall of sound for about twenty minutes as I stared blankly at the ceiling. Then one song broke through. 

"You're perfect in the way, a perfect end today
You're burning out their lights, and burning in their eyes
I love you Sugar Kane, a-comin' from the rain
Oh kiss me like a frog, and turn me into flame
I love you all the time, I need you 8 to 9
And I can stay all night, yr body shining"

I shuddered with tears instantaneously. I never told him what this song meant. I never told him how before we were together, I would listen to this song on vinyl in my room, smoking and brooding. Thinking about him, thinking about his smile, his laugh, his hands, his eyes. I never shared the intimacy of it. And now it didn't matter. 

My crying woke up the thrashing pain in my leg and my body overloaded itself, a frenzy of substances and emotions swirling into toxicity. I was shaking when I reached for a beer in the fridge. I didn't know how many I had before I stumbled back into Archie's room. I slightly remember my hands on his chest, my lips at his neck as I finally felt some release of sleep. 

--

I looked back up from my beer bottle and felt Archie close to me, our thighs touching. I stirred just barely. He slid a hand into mine smoothly, effortlessly. It felt cold. 

"I can take better care of you than he can, Al."

I nodded slow.

"You can have anything you want. Just ask me and I'll give it to you, you know that?"

I gave his scratchy beard a dry kiss. 

"I know."

"Mmm," he mumbled, leaning forward to kiss me again, deep, longing, trying. I barely held on.

"I'm tired, sorry."

"I bet. You fuck like a bloody animal, babe. I can only imagine how worn out you are."

I smiled meekly. He kissed my cheek and got up to order pizza for lunch.

I looked at my phone screen. No texts, no calls. I scrolled through my contacts, passed his name and stopped. I held my finger over the message icon for a moment, so close, so fucking close. 

"Should be here in about thirty," Archie's voice cut through my thoughts jaggedly. 

I clicked my phone off. "Sounds great." 

He beamed, and sat down next to me, pulling me against him in an attempt to cuddle, or something. 

"Let's change this shite..." he said, reaching for the remote. 

I knocked my head back, downing a huge gulp of beer. I hoped soon I would be able to see straight so I wouldn't have to see Archie's hand slowly curving around waist. Miles's favorite place to wrap his arms around and never let go.