Theory of Attachment [18+] [mxm]

28. Running Into Your Ex On The Street In East Village

Micah: Just so you know, I crashed at your place last night with Noah. Nothing happened and I slept on the couch. Figured I'd mention in case you look at the security cameras.

Alistair: Thanks for mentioning, Noah warned me

Micah: Cool

Alistair: So you two met at the suspension demonstration huh

Micah: Yeah

Micah: He's insane

Alistair: Lol

Micah: Lol? That's all you have to say

Alistair: Lol x2

Micah: 🖕

Micah: Sooo fucking hungover

Alistair: Lol x3

Micah: Fuuuuuuck my liiiiiife

Alistair: [Screenshot of the security footage showing Micah crashing on the couch at approximately 5AM]

Micah: Get that shit out of my face oh my goddddddd I don't even remember that

Micah worked at five that day, which meant powering through the worst hangover of his life. He was getting too old to be drinking tall glasses of straight liquor and expecting to stand the next day.

After throwing up the last of the alcohol in his system, he left Alistair's place. Noah wasn't even awake. He left a note behind that thanked Noah for getting drinks with him and that they'd be seeing each other around, most definitely.

He did not leave his number behind.

He made a pitstop at his favorite hangover solution spot: a smoothie shop that kicked every neuron in his brain back into gear. After a ginger shot and a breakfast of champions, Micah was coherent enough to make his walk of shame (sans sex) back to Presley's place.

He used Presley's at-home gym to sweat out the last of the alcohol in his system. His brain was still fluffy with a low-tier buzz.

At work, he received a text from Alistair. "Noah wants to pick you up from work tonight. Mind if I give him the address?"

"Fuck," Micah thought, and decided that hanging out with Noah was better than the alternative: being alone with his thoughts at Presley's place.

He confirmed the plans, and Alistair gave him a thumbs up. Noah arrived at closing.

"Wow! You look hot!" Noah cheered, much to the amusement of Micah's remaining coworkers.

Micah's cheeks colored. "Whatever. Alistair said you had plans?"

"Yup! Finish up and let's get the fuck outta here, man."

Micah glanced desperately at his coworkers to give him a reason to linger. Instead, his co-bartender said, "We already counted tips. I'll finish up here."

"Thanks, I guess," Micah said, and stepped around the bar to be dragged off to the streets by Noah.

They bar-hopped until one in the morning where, under neon lights, Noah hauled Micah's ass into a gay dance club. It was then that Micah remembered that he was in the presence of a man with limited time in the city and not a care in the world.

By then, Micah was tipsy enough to also not have a care in the world.

He let Noah spin him as the two of them raved under flashing, spinning lights. The air was soft in the humidity of peoples breaths on Micah's back. He swayed, arms in the air, and jumped to the beat.