Theory of Attachment [18+] [mxm]

33. ❌Window Of Opportunity

That evening, Micah was invited out to dinner with Presley and Lee as a farewell. He left before Alistair was due to return and, after being spoiled one last time, Micah left the venue with a gift box under one arm. He carried it with him as he loitered a while longer. Rather than take public transit, he walked the distance to give Alistair more time to himself before Micah crashed his afterwork decompression session.

Alistair was mid-Suits episode when Micah arrived.

"Hey," Micah said, kicking off his shoes. He set the box alongside his things and studied the television. He was already invested.

Before he could lower himself to the couch, Alistair said, "Could you change?"

Micah straightened, confused. "What?"

"You're wearing outdoor clothes," Alistair said, "I hung a fresh robe in the guest bathroom for you."

Micah sucked in whatever complaints he had. It was nice of Alistair to lend him a robe. Alistair was setting boundaries, that was good.

And, in the bathroom, he found his toothbrush cup on the vanity.

Micah shut his eyes. Don't take it personally. Don't take it personally, he thought, though the significance of Alistair calling this Thee Guest Bathroom reminded Micah that he was, indeed, just a guest.

He shut the door a little harder than necessary and changed out of his outdoor clothes.

When he stepped out, the living room was entirely vacated. The television was off and, Micah realized, his bedding from the previous night looked completely different. He picked up the corner of the sheet and determined that it was a new, fresh set.

He shuffled into Alistair's room. The television across from the chains on the headboard displayed the Suits episode.

Alistair paused the show. "You wanna fuck?"

Micah appeared to have been slapped. He recovered, barely, to say, "Not the fuck anymore. Dude—"

"Oh. Well." Alistair started playing Suits again.

Micah knew it was rude, but he went searching for the power button on the television. He turned it off. "I'm just gonna talk for a second, and then I'm gonna go fuck up some goblin guys in Zelda, alright?"

Alistair pushed his thumb and forefinger over his brow before reclining back on one elbow and saying, "Fine. What is it."

Micah was at the point where he just wanted to loiter around the bars between West and East Village rather than spend another second in the room with Alistair. He sighed. "I think we've established that you have clear cleanliness boundaries and I asked you straight up what they were. I want to know rather than stumble and trip over hurdles. Capeesh?"

"Capeesh," Alistair said and God, that smug grin was going to be the death of them both—Micah, for how gorgeous it made him look and Alistair, from being strangled by Micah out of aggravation.

Micah flopped his arms about. "Well?"

"Well what."

"What are they. Give me the fucking checklist of what I am and am not to do," Micah said.

Alistair snorted. He licked his front teeth, slow and tantalizing, and looked away. When he resumed watching Micah, his eyes were lidded and unnecessarily sultry for someone about to say: "I can manage it myself. You just have to go with the flow."

"No. None of this 'flow' shit, alright. That works with sex, but not with living together. This turn-off is the exact reason having a partner is a no-go for me," Micah said.