The Morning After

Don't Own Me

Exhausted. I'm so tired, but I'm here inside of the same gay club that Michael dragged me to, the last time I was suppose to 'let my hair down'. I could be at home under my newly washed blankets right now, stuffing my face with Lucky Charms, but yet and still I'm here.

Why am I here again? "Come on Luke! Live a little mate, we've got friends, the lot is ova' there aye see!" Michael hollers and heads turn our way, eyes roaming the expanses of our bodies.

"Michael stop yelling, you're causing us unwanted attention." I hiss, trying to yank my hand away that's entrapped inside of his.

"Aye, that's what we want, I see you enjoyed the gift I sent home with ya' Monday, right mate?" He winks his eyes going down to the large purple mark that marred my pale skin.

The purpleness fading to a nasty looking grayish green. 

"No I didn't! You know I don't do one night stands and yet and still, you send me home with a meat headed, Italian sausage eating bastard." I spit out, my face turning three shades darker.

"Aye, I bet you liked his Italian sausage?" He winks at me, his arm coming up to pull me and tuck me against his side.

He was right, I fucking loved it to the point that I craved it now as we speak. It hadn't even been a solid two whole days yet, and here I was craving something, or someone in particular to stuff me like a cannoli.

"We didn't fuck Michael." I drawl, my face going thermonuclear at the stupid grin on his face.

"Oh yeah, says the wanker that comes into the nursing home three hours late. Limping at that, if I ain't mistaken, it only takes twenty minutes to get to our job. Your flat isn't that bloody far away."

His baby blue eyes twinkle, and I can't help but to turn away from him. "We're not in England Michael it's called an apartment, you dick." He chuckles, and I can here him mimicking me in the background.

"Just admit it, he stuffed you didn't he. How big was e' mate. I should've took him home myself, if only he was interested in blondes yeah?" I roll my grey eyes.

"I'm blond." He ruffles my hair, his fingers sifting through the silky texture. "Yeah mate but your dirty, more brown then anythin'. Hey guys we've made it, the party is ere' yeah!" I flinch at his loudness, but our friends don't seem to mind.

Looking around the group sitting at the dark mahogany round table, I count four in total. "Hey Kyle, Sammy!" He leans over fist pumping Samantha. "Bryan, looking even sexier then when you're in ya' scrubs bub."

He flirts and I watch as Bryan, the cutest twink ever, flushes. 

"Oh what ever you big flirt." He laughs and next he greets Freddy, our department head. "Aye boss, since we're not on the clock I'd like to tell you to go fuck yourself." Freddy rolls his eyes and look over to me.

"Tame your friend please." He just didn't know that there was no taming Michael. The man acted like a huge man-child, meaning he did only three adult things. Pay bills, fuck, and go to work, other then that, he ate dinosaur chicken nuggets and watched Disney junior.

Like I said no hope at all.

"Hello everyone, that I'm happy to see even though I don't want to be here." I drawl lazily, laying my head down to rest against the table. "Awe did Michael drag you out once again?" Samantha asks, her raspy voice a soothing lull compared to the thumping music.

"Yes, in fact he did, his exact words were 'live a little mate'." I yell excitedly an exaggerated British accent adorning it.

"Aye mate, I sound way sexier! Now, who's ready for shots?" I put a thumb down as everyone hoots around me. "No, not me. The last time I got drunk, I fucked a complete stranger. No, you guys drink by yourselves." Freddy ruffles my hair, his brown peepers shining mischievously.