sex addicts [michael clifford]

4: cockalini alfredo

"so did you do it?" devon asked suddenly, causing michael to groan and look at her.

after michael had spent the night at charlie's apartment, doing nothing but cuddling and watching movies, he had to run back to his apartment quickly to get ready for another day of therapy. he really hated this "therapy five days a week for two months" shit, because it was really simple to just stop having sex. he didn't see why it required two months of group.

"what do you mean by it?" he asked.

she wiggled her eyebrows at him. "you know, did you put your cockalini alfredo in her pasta bowl?"

michael nearly choked on his own spit as he heard the words come out of her mouth. "excuse me?"

devon rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "for fuck's sake, clifford, did you bang her?"

"no, of course not! that's why i'm at therapy, isn't it?"

she leaned in close to his ear, and he flinched away from the feeling of her warm breath fanning his face. "yes, but some habits are just hard to break."

just then, tom brought attention to the group. they followed the same exact routine as the day before, except michael was careful about what he said as to not cause a feud with devon.

"hi, i'm michael, i'm eighteen, and i'm a sex addict."

"more like addicted to the one and only girl he can get laid from," devon whispered to luke, who was on the other side of her. he snickered, but coughed quickly in a poor attempt to cover it up.

michael's head whipped to the side, giving the two of them a death glare. "more than that, michael," tom prompted, trying to urge michael on, "what motivates you?"

"i...i love her," michael answered. hanging his head low. he knew the others would laugh at him, but surprisingly no one, not even devon, said anything.

"sometimes there are other ways to express your love. maybe you could take her on dates or - "

"but i want to prove to her that i love her," michael interrupted. "i want to show her that it'll only ever be her. only her."

tom opened his mouth to speak but closed it right after. instead he moved on, and michael's curiosity on what he was going to say grew.

after therapy, michael didn't want to talk to anyone. he wanted to be alone with his thoughts, and to think about his motivation. he wanted to have sex with charlie because he loved her, right? he had escaped onto the balcony outside the therapy room, which overlooked the small garden planted behind the building. from this balcony, he had a clear view of another wall, which he found pointless. no one noticed him leave except for one person.

"what does it feel like?" she asked, coming behind michael and startling him.

"jesus christ, you scared me." michael put a hand over his heart, trying to calm himself down.

devon rolled her eyes, and michael wondered if her eyes would ever get stuck like that because she did it so much. "what does it feel like?" she repeated.

"is it the same thing as what you said earlier? putting the cockalini alfredo in the pasta bowl? because i'm pretty sure you have a pretty good understanding of what that feels like."

"sass," devon commented, shrugging her shoulders. "i mean, what does it feel like to be in love?"

michael was cautious with his answer, wondering why devon wanted to know about such a ridiculous thing. "well," he started, pursing his lips, "it's like when you're trying to write a poem. you think of all these ways to express one single idea but you keep crumpling paper after paper because no words can describe what you're feeling. it's almost impossible. it's frustrating, it's time consuming, and yet, at the end of the day, you realize that it was all worth it because you came up with a beautiful poem. that's love."

devon breathed in a short breath, resting her arms on the railing next to him. "i've never been in love, but i've been loved before."

"what happened?" michael found it a miracle that devon hadn't made fun of him or teased him about his feelings of love. perhaps she had had a change of heart?

she sighed and bowed her head down, and michael didn't know whether it was from sadness or disgrace. "it all started when i was in florida."

-

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