Theory of Attachment [18+] [mxm]

36. ❌Micah's Blind Date With Destiny

Micah's hope for Benny, over the course of that one dinner, had taken a nosedive. For the remainder of the week leading up to work, Micah was back on the apps and debating storing his clothes at Kennedy's place, showering at the gym, and sleeping in other peoples' beds.

But then Friday came.

He'd left his luggage at Alistair's, expecting to pick up on a booty call as an excuse to leave should Alistair return, but the apartment was dark and silent. The bed empty.

Micah roamed the apartment for a while in the dark, eyes on his phone. He'd already told a guy he'd be over in twenty, but if Alistair wasn't here...

Why am I being such a bitch about this? It's just a hookup, Micah thought, but what he really wanted was another night of rest. His feet ached from standing all night, throat sore from chatting over the music with customers.

He slapped his face to get himself back into motion. After a change of clothes, Micah left to spend the night several blocks over in a cramped apartment with a guy he'd never seen in person until then. It was an unremarkable affair that ended early, which Micah didn't mind. He was exhausted, even if he was still hard.

They slept in, though, which Micah appreciated. They were startled awake by the door banging open and a roommate strolling in with donuts.

Micah jerked upright, squinting against the light and cursing under his breath. His partner rolled over in bed, saying, "Fuck off... We aren't decent."

"But I have donuts," the guy said, and offered the box to Micah.

Micah took one, though he read the situation for what it was: Jealous roommate crushing on the noncommittal manwhore, coming to see what fresh meat he'd dragged around.

Micah took a bite of the donut and gave a closed-mouthed smile to the roommate, who glared at him as he set a glazed donut on the nightstand—right next to the lube and condom wrapper.

"Thanks," Micah said.

"That one isn't for you," he said, and shut the door behind him.

Micah licked his lips, grinning to himself. "Fucking noted. Alright."

"Sorry about that..." the guy moaned into his pillow. He brushed a hand over his forehead, pushing his bangs back.

Damn, Micah thought, he looks even better in daylight.

"I gotta go to work soon," he said.

"Say no more," Micah said, but continued eating his donut. "Once I'm done with this."

The guy laughed. "Yeah, take your time. Thanks for last night. I fucking needed that."

"Always a pleasure."

They laughed, and Micah was off to a great start that day.

He decided to avoid Alistair's place. He was twelve hours over their agreed-upon roommate timeframe and he wasn't inclined to push Alistair's buttons. Luckily, his day was packed: after a late lunch, working out and showering at the gym, Micah returned to Kennedy's apartment to be dolled up and waltzed around town like a show pony to a gallery event.

Dressed in a Kennedy original, Micah accompanied her through the white walls of an art gallery shrouded in glittery, hot-pink canvases.

"They look like vaginas," Micah said.

Kennedy sucked her bottom lip in to hold back a smile. She leant into him, arm hooked underneath his. "That's because they are vaginas, I'm pretty sure."

"Hot," he said, and she giggled into his shoulder.

They turned a corner and Kennedy accepted a glass of wine from a tray. The two of them shared it, passing it back and forth until Micah was fairly certain Kennedy's lipstick stains were now on his lips.