Queer as Muke

1.19.6 Good Grief!

"You should apologise," Calum tells Michael as his best friend swigs heavily from a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels as he staggers drunkenly between kitchen and lounge. Michael's been steadily getting plastered for the past hour since arriving home from the funeral.

"For what?!"

"You know damn well! For your Dad! Even though he wasn't always nice to you when he was alive, when he's dead he deserves a little respect!"

Michael's face twists, "Bullshit! If you don't earn respect when you're alive, you don't deserve it when you're dead." 

He puts the bottle down on the floor a little unsteadily and starts to wrangle his suit jacket off. "Anyway, you were very respectful with your little memory...only you don't remember shit!"

Tripping up a couple of steps on his way to the bedroom, Michael tries to undo his cuff-links at the same time before abandoning the effort of taking his shirt off. Instead he snorts some poppers, offering the bottle to Calum, "Want some?"

"Haven't you abused yourself enough?"

"No!" Michael argues as Calum tries to sit him down on the edge of his bed, turning to put his hands on Calum's shoulders, looking him straight in the eye, the most sober he's been since Calum drove him back home.

"I got a strike that day, you got that bit right. And we were jumping up and down screaming, you got that right too. And that's when Dad, Daryl came back from the bar and surprised us. He didn't hug me..."

Michael suddenly sits down heavily and drops his voice to a whisper, his eyes trying desperately to focus on Calum's, "...that was your 'I wish I had a Daddy fantasy'. You hugged me, do you remember? And I gave you a big kiss..."

Calum blinks rapidly, remembering clearly as Michael's telling him. Oh shit, yes, how could he have forgotten that kiss? What else has he forgotten or got twisted in the mists of time?

"And that's when he shouted at us, 'What are you? A couple of fucking fairies?' " Michael does a decent impression of his father's gravelly voice. 

Calum remembers Daryl being extra loud about it too, now that he thinks about it, and he also remembers Daryl doing some kind of limp wrist movement to emphasis his point.

"And that's when I pushed you away so hard you practically rolled down the lane. And then I ran! And ran! Fuck it's hot in here!" 

Michael gets up so quickly that he staggers, pulling so hard at his shirt to get it off himself that he pops the buttons off two at a time. Calum springs into action, supporting him as he rocks on the spot, stopping him from ripping his Armani shirt completely.

Lying Michael down on the bed, Calum proceeds to undress him. "Maybe coffee wasn't such a good idea..." he muses to himself as the undoes Michael's belt and starts to tug his trousers off him.

Michael reaches up for Calum, pulling him down onto his chest, "Stay here with me..." he mumbles.

"Okay, just for a little bit." Calum lies next to him, putting his cheek on Michael's shoulder. He's barely laid it down when Michael starts caressing Calum's cheek with his hand and then rolls him over, so that he's on top of Calum before dropping a kiss on his lips.

"You're high," Calum observes, looking up at the green he knows so well. The whites of Michael's eyes are starting to get little red veins from all the alcohol and Michael rubbing at them. 

Michael grins down at him, "Yeah!"

"What are you doing?" Calum asks as Michael starts to unbuckle Calum's belt and then starts on the button for his suit trousers.

"Just fooling around..."

"No."

Michael slips his hand into Calum's pants. "No! Wait!" Calum tells him, putting a hand on his wrist to stop him going any further. 

Michael looks deep into Calum's eyes, seeing his own face reflected back in the deep brown. "Isn't this what you always wanted Cal?"

"What? A drunk fuck so you don't have to think about your Dad?" asks Calum quietly. This isn't what he wanted, ever. All he's wanted is for Michael to want him, to fuck him, to love him. But not like this, not ever like this. "I never wanted that."

~~~

"You are the best kisser, hands down!" Corey tells the guy he's been kissing with on the dance floor at Arq for the past five minutes. He looks up at the balcony as the guy goes to work on his neck and sees someone he recognises, watching them for a few seconds before turning his attention to the guy again.

"Excuse me! I will be right back!" Corey grins as he extricates himself from the arms of his lover, "Don't you go anywhere! Stay right there okay?!"

Making his way through the crowd and up the stairs, Corey goes in search of the man, finding him still talking to the guy he was watching him with a few moments ago.

"Excuse me!" Corey calls from behind to get his attention.

"No thanks," Jake says, glancing quickly around, not recognising Corey.

"No thanks what?"

"I don't want to dance!"

"I wasn't going to ask you. Would you excuse us for a minute?" Corey asks the other guy who looks at Corey as if he's asking for a miracle and doesn't move a muscle.

"Who the hell are you?!"

"I'm Corey, Sam's friend..."

Jake looks at Corey's determined face and accusatory eyes and whispers in his friends ear to get him to leave. Corey takes his place, leaning on the balcony rail.

"We met here the other night when you were so tweaked you passed out on the toilet floor..." Corey says by way of introduction. "We had to rush you to Emergency, is any of this ringing a bell?"

"I remember..."

"Good. Good for you. You feeling better?"

"Now that Sam's letting me stay with him."

Corey nods, "That's our boy...so tell me, why aren't you there talking to him, instead of here talking to a dealer?"

"Him? He's just a friend!"

Leaning in, Corey forgets the niceties, "Honey, don't bullshit me. Sam, maybe. He doesn't know about these things but we do..."

Corey looks at Jake's stony face, the vein pulsing in his forehead, the tiny beads of sweat peppering his temples and continues talking to him, undaunted. "...Oh yes, we know what happens once you've injected crystal meth into your skinny little arms."

Finally Jake looks into Corey's eyes. Corey's direct and to the point, "I tried to warn him, but he wouldn't listen. Because he loves you! In fact he's so in love with you that he believes you're clean! Imagine that!"

"I love him too."

"No. You love drugs . So go get drugs. Here, I will even give you the money..." Corey hands him a wad of notes. "Leave him alone, because if you break his heart, I will break your face! Now if you'll excuse me, they're playing my song..."