The Charade

Chapter 1

Maybe he would strangle her, watch her take her last breath with his calloused fingers around her slender neck. Then he would have the satisfaction of knowing that he'd choked the life out of her. He, his lover, always said that she had a kink for that kind of thing; choking her while they were having sex, while he was fucking her.

The whole thing was nothing but a cover up, his marriage, their family; he hadn't really loved her, he had just married her to keep him safe.

Maybe he would knock her unconscious and drown her in her own bathtub; one too many glasses of wine with her bubble bath, how tragic.

Would that please his lover? Perhaps.

It wasn't very creative though, and that was something he prided himself on, his creativity.

Maybe something gruesome, something bloody, make a big show of it.

The careless woman had left her back door unlocked; this was a relatively safe neighbourhood, robberies hardly ever occur.

The thief just waltzed right in, stabbed her to death, with the butcher knife from her own kitchen; and then he would destroy all of her nice things, the things his lover had bought for her and not for him.

Her precious espresso machine and her other state of the art appliances; the things that she loved so much more than she loved him, not like he loved him, he knew how to love a man properly.

Too messy though, he couldn't risk getting blood on his nice clothes.

Drowning seemed like the most logical of them all, choke her unconscious so as not to draw any unwanted attention and then set the scene.

The burning candles, dim lights, a glass of wine, a book maybe?

No one would suspect a thing. No foul play, just a careless drunk woman.

He had never cared much for her anyway, why his lover had picked this particular woman to hide behind was beyond him.

She wasn't very bright, stupid in fact. Not like his lover, he was the complete opposite; smart and funny and talented, god he was so fucking talented.

"Just a loser who got lucky" his lover always said.

He didn't think so, he knew exactly why he was so popular; and luck had nothing to do with it.

He sat at their kitchen table and watched the charade of a marriage continue; it had to, the others were here, they didn't have the slightest idea.

He watched his lover press himself against her; kiss her neck; the way he kisses his neck when they're alone together; when they're wrapped around each other, twisted in the sheets.

The way his hands slid over her torso; those perfect hands.

The longer he sat watching them together, the more and more livid he became.

The way he whispered in her ear and the playful smile crept across her lips; what had he said to make her smile like that?

He could guess, he had made him smile like that once or twice.

The others were completely oblivious, talking about the music, the reason they were all here in the first place.

He couldn't stand to watch them anymore; it made him sick to his stomach.

He got up from the table and his lover turned to look at him, finally.

He just glared back, he knew why.

He walked through the massive house and out the back door, through the yard to his lover's studio.

The studio he built with his perfect hands.

He slammed the door behind him and let out a heavy sigh.

He had barely taken half a step before he heard the door open behind him followed by familiar footsteps.

He didn't bother turning around, just stood in front of one of the keyboards, his fingers sliding over the smooth keys.

"Leave me alone" he muttered

A familiar laugh over his shoulder, and then those perfect hands

His body pressed against his back, his hands closing over his, moving them over the keys, playing the notes.

"Don't-"

He shook his head as his lover's nose brushed against his cheek, his lips pressing against his neck.

"You know I don't love her" he whispered

"No I don't" he muttered

"David..." he sighed turning him around to face him.

David dropped his eyes; he didn't want to look at him.

"David..." he said again "Look at me"

He lifted his head slightly, but still didn't look at him.

David made a small noise in the back of his throat as his lips were caught in a gentle kiss.

Damn it.

Those perfect hands cupping his face, pulling David closer, kissing him deeper.

He pushed him back against the keyboard; both of his lover's hands pulling the buttons open on David's shirt, exposing his chest.

He kissed down David's neck, that warm feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach;

David let out a shaky breath.

"The door..." David whispered

"It's locked" he whispered against David's neck "This isn't my first time" he smiled

David sighed, relaxing under his lover's hands, as they slid over his hips and up his sides. They were as soft as his lips, even with that guitar playing.

"Stop..." David breathed "I'm still..."

"Mad at me" he finished "I know you are, you didn't make that much of a secret"

"Why do you keep lying to yourself?" David asked "To everybody else?  You just said you don't love her anyway..."

They were standing upright now, David's shirt still hanging open.

"Because we-"

"Damn it, Pierre, everybody already knows anyway, you're just too much of a chicken shit to-!"

A loud smack echoed off the walls of the tiny room and David's cheek suddenly felt hot, but his eyes never wavered.

He just scoffed raising an eyebrow at Pierre. "A slap, how heterosexual of you" he said sarcastically.

David pushed past him; he didn't particularly care for being cornered.

"What the hell am I supposed to do, David, kick her to the curb without so much as an explanation?"

David shrugged fingering the strings on one of the guitars. "Works for me, why do you even care? It's not like you really love her"

"Because I'm not an asshole, David, she's still a human being!"

That had made David laugh out loud. "Oh no," He asked "You're not an asshole, not today?"

"What would you suggest we do then, since you're such a fucking expert?"

David turned to look at him; all emotion completely absent from his features.

"I could kill her"