Greedy

Chapter 1

Mike sat, writing fast as the man next to him spoke fast. His pen scratched at the paper noisily. Finally the man stopped. "That wouldn't be too much would it?"

"No, not at all," Mike assured, forcing himself to smile. "When will you want the final design finished?"

"In two weeks the latest." Mike nodded and gathered his papers, stacking them neatly and tucking them away in a Manila folder. The man stood up and held out his hand. "Good to do business with you Shinoda."

Mike shook his hand firmly, nodding, "Likewise."

They stepped out of the small conference room into the bustling hallway. Mike made his way towards the elevators, sliding the thin folder into his black leather bag, next to his laptop. He waited patiently outside the elevator door. A few clicks and then a bing. The silver doors slid open and few people in their business suits walked out, some briskly. Mike stepped in into the empty elevator, the soft music filling his ears. Just as the doors began to whir to life, a tall, thin man slipped in and stood next to Mike.

"Sooo?" he asked as he leaned towards Mike. "How was the meeting?" Mike rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Like every other fucking meeting Brad."

His friend smiled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah I know. Just playing around. Loosen up!"

The elevator moved down slowly as the two men stood side by side, silent with only the soft elevator music playing. "So some of our friends are going out tonight," Brad began, clearing his throat to break the awkward silence.

"Awe Brad, you know I can't. I have to start on this project. You were the one that have me this opportunity."

"Yeah I know, but you never go out with us. You just stay at home all day. When was the last time you hung out with us?"

"Um, we've hung out--before."

"See you don't even remember. Not since you graduated college you've grown to be boring." Mike scratched the back of his neck. "Plus, you have the day off tomorrow. You can stay up tomight. Brad was right. He had taken his job much to seriously. But he needed it. This job was the only thing to keep him supported financially. And it did. Quite well too.

"I-I'll see Brad."

"Alright, thanks Mike!" He slipped out the elevator doors as they opened up. Mike stepped out after him and stood in the fancy lobby, clutching his bag.

***

Mike shut the door and slumped against it, dropping his bag onto the wood floor. He slipped off his shoes before walking into the living room. Mike sighed and loosened black his tie, slipping it off and unbuttoning his light blue shirt. He slumped into the leather couch and tossed his clothes away from him. Maybe Brad was right. He could use a night out. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his fists.

He really needed something to do. Something like partying. Or something as simple as taking a drink. He was shaken scared to death by his father before he graduated. It had all happened too fast. All the drugs, partying and his boyfriend. His boyfriend....

Mike suddenly missed his ex. He was a gorgeous young man. He was tall and skinny, messy hair that was spiked up most of the time. Those were better times, much more fun than the life he had now. He and Mike would spend hours together, usually watching movies or playing video games together. They spent every second together.

"If we ever get married, I'm going to set up a game console and have pizza instead of cake," He grinned as he took a large bite from the slice of pizza in his hand. "Then the guys can go and and we'll play against each other as our families watch."

Mike smiled at the memory. He loved Mark. He loved all the affection Mark gave him. They weren't the best though. Fights had broken out here and there, but they never stayed mad. In fact, something would snap and Mark would began to laugh at how silly they were acting and eventually Mike would join in, realizing that they can never stay mad at eachother.

Mark used to drink and do all sorts of drugs. Of course, Mike had been hesitant but he gave in. Then he and Mark were always doing drugs, drinking and partying every chance they got. School didn't matter. His dream job didn't matter. As long as he had Mark there with him.

Mark held him closer, arms wrapped around his waist, Mike's body pressed against his warmly. He supported himself with his elbows over Mark, his fingers tracing down the side of the other man's face softly. Thier lips were pressed against each other gingerly, moving slowly and passionately. For now, their movements had been slow and gentle, knowing this is what they wanted from each other.

Moving away, Mike moved down to Mark's neck, kissing him softly, his hands moving up his sides, lifting his shirt up slightly.

Mike remembered his room had been littered with empty beer cans and junk food. He chuckled and his heart ached from the distant bitter sweet memory.

By this time, their arousal was becoming more apparent. Their hips ground against each other, their erections rubbing through the thick material of their jeans. Mark graoned and let his hands roam down from Mike's waist to his rear. Thier movements grew sloppy and their kissing became rough.

Then the door slammed open. Both of the young adults looked towards the door. An angry looking man stood there, red faced and clutching the door handle.

"D-dad," Mike stuttered, scrambling off Mark. Mark cowered against the head board, Mike becoming more and more ashamed. "I didn't know you were stopping by..."

"Michael Kenji Shinoda!" his father roared. He looked around the room, his eyes sweeping over all the remnants of drugs and empty beer cans.

"I though better of you!" He stomped over to Mike, grabbing his wrist and flinging him off the bed. "Why? I raised you differently!"

"Dad!"

His father turned to Mark, "Get out! Get out of my house you filthy faggot! Stay away from my son!"

Mark got up from the bed, looking at Mike with tears spilling over, and then he was gone.

Mike never saw Mark around after that night. Not even in class or just around town. His father limited what he could and couldn't do. Even though Mike was already in his mid-twenties, he was terrified of his dad and obeyed him, afraid of what he would say or do if he were to give up his job.

He was quite successful much to his father's delight. He took his job as a graphic designer seriously. Having competitive jobs with other artists was actually fun. And he had Brad opening up more opportunities for Mike.

Mike was able to get a nice flat. A lavish apartment in the more quiet part of the city. He was comfortable in it. He had more money than he was comfortable with. Mike was too humble to admit to anyone how much money he made each job.

He checked the clock hanging neatly and the wall across from him. Four-thirty. Mike stared at it for a while, contemplating whether he should change and go with Brad.