From One Closet and Out the Other

Slash/romance

By Niki Lemonade

Warning: Gay. Gay guys. And some characters from my other story, My Fake Heart! Slight spoiler, since this is set in the future, but we all know Zach and Leonard making out is nothing new, right? Right.

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Click.

A small sound, one that froze my blood in my veins. My roommate is back early. I was not, under any circumstances, supposed to be in his room. I was just looking for scissors, but truth was not something that came to my mind in that moment. One instinct takes over, and motivates my legs into action.

Hide!

I nearly dive into the closet, closing the door behind me as the door to his room opens up. I hear a deep rumble of laughter as my roommate and another person come in. My heart pounding in my chest, I listen as they speak in gentle words, and suddenly silence. Then, footsteps, and the creak of bed springs. Moans-moans?!

Shoved up against the door as I am, a slip of footing causes the closet door to slip open slightly. The sounds come clearer now. Yes, moans. Both distinctly masculine. Oh, great, I thought to myself. I get to listen to Zach and some guy make out. Why me?

A rustling of fabric, another chuckle, and louder groans. Zach had never tried to hide his interest in other guys from me, and I never let it bother me. A couple of my friends were gay, so Zach occasionally talking about some guy from high school was not nearly as disturbing as it should have.

But, I'm not gay, so why should I have to listen to this? I think to myself as I ready my body to stand up and try to make as uneventful of an exit as humanly possible. The bed springs creak as I heard them switch positions. And now...breathes coming in earnest. That heavy, audible panting that makes you aware of your partner's heart beat, that fills you with a desperation to make them-WHOA WAIT!

Shaking my head, I try once more to rise only to find something embarrassing. I'm...erm, well...I can't help it! It's kind of arousing, no matter the gender, to hear two people engaging in certain activities and to know they don't know you're there. The old peeping tom instinct kicks in, and my body was sluggish to say the least. Physiologically, my body wants to stay there and listen to them do whatever they were going to do. Not that I'm really that much of a per-

"Ah, Zach..."

I feel a flush travel from my cheeks down to my throat. Okay, enough. I kicked out violently, making a pile of shoes collapse on me. Shouting, I spill out from the closet, burrowing my face in my forearms as I land on the carpet. Deciding to cut my losses, I jump up, yelling a couple of jumbled apologies and ran from the bedroom without looking towards the bed.

"-the hell?!"

"Ahahaha! Did we have a peeping tom? Didn't know you had it in you Phil!"

Screeching something even I don't remember, I turn towards them from the doorway, glaring at Zach indignantly when I actually see them. Zach's button up shirt partway undone, lips swollen and cheeks red, straddling a thinner guy with long dark blonde hair and no shirt...The flush flares again and I dart from the room, trying to ignore my body's reaction to that sight. Striding into the kitchen, I grab a glass and filled it with nice, comforting, cold ass water. I chug it, clearing my head instantly. Grabbing my sweater and the scarf that Johnny had made for me, I leave for a walk.

The November air is chilly, but not so cold as to be unbearable. Johnny had made me this scarf when I started complaining about the weather. He even waited until I said something about it to throw the thing in my face and say, jokingly, "There! Now stop whining!" All together, it was funny. But Johnny always does things like that. He has an excellent sense of timing for these things.

As I walk from our small apartment in the myriad of old complexes adjacent to the college, I lean my face down into the calming softness of the knitted yarn. It still smells faintly of him, cigarettes and incense. Breathing it in with my eyes closed, I stop walking for a moment to enjoy the stillness of the world at that moment. There are no cars driving by, no people walking or talking, even the birds are taking a breather. Then, the silence is broken by my name.

"Phillip!" I look up and met his soft brown eyes, full of laughter per usual. "What's up? You look kinda down."

"I...I'm fine I s'pose," I say, scuffing my toe on the sidewalk, breaking my eyes away from his. They can be quite intoxicating. If...if I would let myself, I could probably...

"You wanna talk or something? Nobody's home at the moment, we could be alone, if it's something you'd rather Ashley didn't hear." Ashley is his cousin, and roommate. And she has an unhealthy obsession with me. It borders on the creepy side. "Or we could go to a cafe or your home-"

"GOD NO!" I shout unexpectedly. He looks at me seriously, now obviously worried. "I-I mean...that's kinda part of the problem." If I'd just dig deep enough, I'd see that I...

"Okay, how about my place, yeah?" He asks with a smile, full of innocence and good will. His jet black hair falls in front of his right eye and without thinking, I reach out and push it back. He looks surprised for a moment, and I'm probably more surprised than he is.

"S-sorry," I mumble. "I'm...I'm just sort of...messed up...I don't know-" I do know, now, and that's the problem...

"Don't worry about it, alright?" he cuts in. He turns towards his home, in the same complex as mine. "Let's go talk, okay? There's something I've been meaning to tell you anyway."

"Okay," I say quietly, following him without complaint.

Johnny's apartment is a two bedroom deal, with a cozy decor of afghans and other things that he crocheted himself. I collapsed heavily on the couch, pulling the scarf lazily from around my neck. Looking at the coffee table, I spot some anime DVDs. I've never really gotten into anime, but Johnny adores it. "Hey," I call as he gets some drinks from the kitchen. Probably tea or something. "How do you say your first name again?"

He flops beside me, a glass in each hand. "Doesn't really matter does it? No one really remembers."

"Maybe I want to," I say gently, taking the proffered drink. I hear him choke on his. "What?"

"Don't-" he starts, wiping his mouth and bright red cheeks. "You shouldn't tease a guy who happens to like guys, yeah?"

"I'm not...ah shit!" I curse gently, looking away. "I didn't mean to, I'm just so used stuff like that not meaning that, you know. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be!" Johnny reprimands. "I'm the one who's sorry, don't worry about it. I took it too seriously." He gives me a poor imitation of his usual smile, too forced. For the second time today, my hand rises to brush away a hair that fell in front of his dark eyes. This time, I carry through with the motion. I settle the palm of my hand against his jaw bone. He grimaces, eyes closed. "You're just being cruel now, Phil." He pulls away, but I move him back by the front of his shirt.

"Look!" I grit out from between clenched teeth. "I just...I need to know for sure, alright? Please, Johnny. I...I trust you."

He very nearly pouts when I finish talking. "You trust me? But...you don't see it do you?" He leans forward, placing his glass down in the same motion. "How much...how bad I want-" I don't let him finish that sentence.

I don't know why I did it. Maybe that show I inadvertently saw had something to do with it. I hope not; Zach would never let me forget that he was what pushed me to realize how much I like Johnny. And-I do see it now-I like him. I want to be with him whenever I'm upset. He calms me down and pushes me from depression like the best antidepressant imaginable. With only a few welcome side effects-laughing more, and falling for him.

Our first kiss is gentle and cautious. Like my first first kiss. Curious, and scared, like we're treading on sacred ground, and pushing it too much would desecrate some holy dictation. I pull back, afraid now, and seeing the indecision in his eyes as he stares at me. A sharp movement to my left is forgotten as he grabs some hair from the nape of my neck and yanks me to him.

His mouth roughly falls on mine, and it just feels right. Like I've been waiting since forever for that moment, for that precise second when our lips connect in a jumble of feeling and sense and taste and smell...God, I love the way he smells. We part for a moment, and indecision comes creeping back into his eyes. I don't know what it makes me-gay, bi, whatever-but I know that I don't want to stop. Determination in my grip, I yank him back to me, fingers curling in his coarse hair. I slide further into his lap, whispering in his ear, "Stop fuckin' thinking, alright? Just...just do, just feel, okay?"

"Mm-hmm," comes his mumbled assent. I let out a breath of relief, turning back to his face and kissing him again. I'll never get over that thrill, that hum of discovery and beauty that comes just from meeting our lips together. Suddenly, his mouth is working against mine, prying it gently open. Then, our tongues meet, tentatively caressing at first. Then, as new territory becomes familiar, they slide together in a delicious battle, each trying to delve deeper, find more contact.

A hand slides up my shirt slowly, giving me ample time to protest. I find it easy to welcome the wandering fingers. Especially as they wrap around my nipple, teasing gently and expertly. A tweak, and I jerk my head back instinctively, a strange sound escaping. Taking advantage of this, Johnny leans into me, a chuckle on his swollen lips as he nips against my neck. We fall back into the couch together, the cushions welcoming us without a complaint. His weight is so comforting, skinny as he is, and I feel like I could stay in this moment forever.

----

After a while, we decide together that we should stop. I've lost my shirt along the way and Johnny's pants have started coming undone. He sits up, brushing his hair back from his face. Laying against him and tugging a blanket with me, I sigh contently.

"So," he starts, "was that all you were upset about, or was there something else?"

Stiffening, I try to lie at first. "Um, yeah. That was all. Absolutely it. I'm glad we resolved that."

Smiling down at me, he chuckles as he says, "You're such a bad liar, you know?" I mumble something insulting and sit up, trying to pull away. He laughs, and refuses to let me go. "Aw, come on. It can't be anything that bad, can it?"

I huff. He has no idea how bad it can be. Before he can say anything else, his phone rings from his pocket. We both sit up regretfully, and he answers. "Hello? Oh, hey Zach. Yeah, he's here....what? Wait, say again?" I feel the blush and jump up scrambling for my shirt. "No way?! Really?" He's laughing. Fuckin' laughing. "Nah, he was probably in your room and didn't want you to think the wrong thing. No, trust me. That's probably what happened. He tends to panic in situations like that. Yeah. I'll tell him for you. Have fun." I don't hear him flip his phone closed, or get up. I'm too busy fighting my shirt to get it back on my body. Suddenly, his hands are on my back, sliding towards my stomach. I look at his face, to find a smile full of laughter there.

"I'm not talking about this. At all. Ever," I state determinedly, ignoring his guffaws and his attempts to console me.