A Story About Four Straight Friends

[CorCordium123]

If you attribute any of this to Dylan, which I don’t you certainly cannot use Monica as an example. If anything her treatment of him and poor communication with him is abusive, using him when he has her needs, assuming he wants the same casual undefined relationship and inviting others in without his consent, while he’s drunk. His behavior after that catastrophe is not gaslighting. It’s self-preservation.

He hides Monica from Samuel but avoids Samuel until he confesses and chooses him over Monica. Hard to twist ghosting and making a grown up decision into gaslighting.

There is nothing Monica does that I would recommend someone do in a relationship except her honesty about her supposed expectations at the end.

(Honestly I found that part unbelievable.

A little too convenient in order to make us feel sorry for her. But I don’t. You don’t wanna be exclusive with a guy and cry about it when days earlier you were trying to get him to have drunk sex with you and a stranger. Not buying it)

 

[CorCordium123]

There will be no “getting” this. I just disagree.
I’m super-invested in this story.
Gaslighting = to manipulate another person into doubting their own perceptions, experiences or understanding of events.

Dylan lies about himself. He minimizes his cheating in order to not get caught AND so that the benefits of sex and comfort from the people he appreciates will continue.
He doesn’t manipulate them, break them down so they can no longer recognize their own value, make them doubt their perception of the world.
Monica is not gaslight just because she is sad when he said no more friends with benefits and nothing more because I don’t see this going long term.
He never promised her more. They never talked about becoming a couple, or even what kind of relationship they have. Calling him a gaslighter for not meeting her unexpressed expectations at the end of the relationship when they go days and weeks without speaking is you gaslighting us about Dylan.
We don’t LIKE what he does to Monica but he didn’t trick her or insult her when saying it was over. What made her sad was the “over” part. And she still wants to be with him.
Were it what you described she’d be ambivalent- a little sad and a lot RELIEVED.

 

[DreamLoveAngels]

There will be no “getting” this. I just disagree.
I’m super-invested in this story.
Gaslighting = to manipulate another person into doubting their own perceptions, experiences or understanding of events.

Dylan lies about himself. He minimizes his cheating in order to not get caught AND so that the benefits of sex and comfort from the people he appreciates will continue.
He doesn’t manipulate them, break them down so they can no longer recognize their own value, make them doubt their perception of the world.
Monica is not gaslight just because she is sad when he said no more friends with benefits and nothing more because I don’t see this going long term.
He never promised her more. They never talked about becoming a couple, or even what kind of relationship they have. Calling him a gaslighter for not meeting her unexpressed expectations at the end of the relationship when they go days and weeks without speaking is you gaslighting us about Dylan.
We don’t LIKE what he does to Monica but he didn’t trick her or insult her when saying it was over. What made her sad was the “over” part. And she still wants to be with him.
Were it what you described she’d be ambivalent- a little sad and a lot RELIEVED.

Well, that's your take on it, and if that's what you want to believe to be the truth, good for you i guess...

 

[RubberDuck98]

Whether or not it is gaslighting, lying or something else, I'm mainly wondering to what extent his behaviour is acceptable. Knowing he is traumatised or whatever happened in his youth. Is it justified to hurt people without having the direct intention to do so?

 

[DreamLoveAngels]

Whether or not it is gaslighting, lying or something else, I'm mainly wondering to what extent his behaviour is acceptable. Knowing he is traumatised or whatever happened in his youth. Is it justified to hurt people without having the direct intention to do so?

Not to me, it could be understandable at the very least, but not acceptable nor reason enough to use as an excuse, especially when you conciously use them to get yourself out of non-threatening life situations just cause you don't want to be in the wrong even though you are.

And Dylan in the story tends to use lies, manipulation and gaslighting a lot in the story to get out of situations he himself creates.

 

[Rebel man]

It seems like you don’t understand how boundaries work. Sam made it very clear that he is only interested in sex with someone with whom he is monogamously involved. It is irrelevant whether it’s early or late in the relationship. Sam, like every other person, gets to decide who he wants to have sex with and under what circumstances.

Once Sam communicated his choice to dylan he had the chance to either take it or leave it. Both would have been reasonable options. What is not okay is to say “I want to fuck you so I will agree to your conditions but then go ahead and flout them because they are inconvenient to me.”

If you think Sam expressing clear preferences and setting clear boundaries prior to consenting to sex in a way that makes him comfortable with physical intimacy is “unreasonable” and “clingy”, ngl, that’s a pretty warped way to approach basic consent.

Sam is a clingy unreasonable guy to me and is a fair partner to you, nothing to do about it. Either way, Sam was stupid expecting someone like Dylan would respect that boundary and Dylan was a very classic commitment issues person with the whole situation.

What is clear to me, and nobody will be able to convince me otherwise (and I will think they are delusional too), is that Dylan and Sam are completely incompatible as a couple and have nothing in common in their expectations. Period.

 

[Di_No]

What about the other guy who was fucking Samuel? Where's he in all this?

 

[Hollyoaks08]

What about the other guy who was fucking Samuel? Where's he in all this?

Who Corey?

 

[Di_No]

Who Corey?

Yes

 

[Hollyoaks08]

Yes

He was mentioned in the last chapter but its like its forgot about or maybe thats why Dylan is mad at Corey or maybe he's mad at him cos he's gay. Who knows?

 

[ndamood4sum]

Whenever he lost focus Michael forced him to concentrate on the next paragraph. He would talk him through the main concepts but Dylan did not listen. He had managed to get up early and went to the gym with Michael. The sporting had done him well yet his mood reduced drastically with every minute in the library. He was unable to process any information and could only think about the day before. He wanted to call Monica and apologise but knew it would do no good. He wanted to let Samuel know he had broken things off with Monica but could not find the right words to do so. "Mate. What's wrong with you today? Did you smoke grass?" Dylan shook his head. "No?" "Where's your head at? You've got only one week left." Dylan adjusted his textbook frustratedly and stared at the words. "You know you've only got one week left, right?" "I know," Dylan replied brusque. He did not know. He repositioned his textbook differently and stared at the same words. What time was it? Only eleven. Seven more hours before Michael would leave.

Michael sat behind the wheel. With a confident speed he guided them through the traffic. "What was up with you today? Honestly, mate, you didn't do shit." "I did." "How many chapters did you finish? I'd be surprised if it's more than halve of one." "I finished two", Dylan lied unconvincingly. He knew Michael would not believe it but said so anyway.

They remained quiet for two streets. "Honestly, mate, you need to get a rhythm", Michael broke the pleasant silence, "Have you checked your grades lately? I reckon you're not gonna pass this year if you don't get a sufficient for coming test". "I'll be fine", Dylan said.

One corner closer to home Michael continued: "You know I'm only trying to help you out". "I know", Dylan replied. He suddenly recalled last night when he was shouting at Michael. Dylan had promised himself to apologise. "Thanks", was all he could bring up to say at this moment. "If you're serious about passing the year you should follow my rhythm, mate", Michael said, "Everyday". The last thing Dylan wanted was to spend all his time in a stuffy library with Michael. Michael clearly awaited a reply. "I'll try", he said to please him. "Good."

The last corner before his house would appear in the distance. Dylan grabbed his jacket and wanted to leave as soon as possible. "What happened yesterday?", Michael asked. "Nothing." "Why are you so uptight then?" Dylan sighed. He closed his eyes and swallowed an upcoming explosion of swearwords. "Nothing happened, alright. Jesus Christ. You're just like my mom. Nothing happened. I'm just tired", he said trying to control his temper.

Michael finally parked his car near Dylan's apartment. Dylan immediately attempted to open the door yet the child safety lock was still on. "Can I go", he asked without looking at Michael. Michael waited frustratingly long before he let him. "See you tomorrow, Dyl", Michael added but Dylan only held his hand up.

Dylan looked at his watch. Half past two at night. What had he been doing? He stood up from the couch and turned off the playstation. Immediately his thoughts were filled to the brink. He went to the bathroom and got himself multiple painkillers. He swallowed them whole, drank some water and laid down on bed. He recalled not having had diner yet but did not care. He smoked a cigarette, put on some series and attempted to sleep.

He woke up with a sun too bright for a morning. He looked at his watch and groaned. Eleven. Michael would skin him alive. He waited a couple of minutes to wake up, listened if Corey was home and went to the kitchen when he knew it was safe. He felt like running to loose his pent-up energy but his ankle had far from recovered yet. He checked his phone, noticed missed calls from Michael and Samuel, and threw it back on bed.

He needed to occupy himself. He deliberated to go to the gym but the thought of leaving the house weighed too heavily. Instead, he sat down on his couch and turned on the playstation.

After a few hours he got bored. He shut it down and hit himself in the face to wake up. Maybe a shower would help. He undressed himself, only turned on the cold water valve and got in. The water felt painfully refreshing. He stayed for as long as he could handle the freezing temperature, got out and put on some sweatpants. He laid down on the ground and began to do multiple sets of sit-ups, push-ups, mountain climbers and planking. Whenever the thought of Monica settled down he continued to push further. It seemed, however, that his pent-up energy kept building up further no matter how hard he pushed. He got himself a couple more painkillers when the upcoming headache began to feel unbearable. Without cleaning himself he laid down on the couch and began another series.

Two knocks on his door. "Dylan, are you home?" It was Corey. Dylan did not speak up. For a few seconds nothing happened. Then, the door slowly opened and Corey's face peaked on the corner. Dylan caught him glancing at his bare upperbody before looking up again. "Hey, sorry. I heard the television so I reckoned you were in here. Can I come in?" Dylan just nodded his head upwards. Corey passed the threshold with just one step. He cleared his throat. "I eh.. You forgot to buy eggs." Dylan closed his eyes and put his hand on his aching forehead. He was supposed to buy them this morning. No. Yesterday. "So?", he said with a tired voice. "You promised you would get some before my parents got here, remember? Now I didn't have time anymore to buy them before they got here."

Dylan just stared at Corey emotionless. He shook his head once and waited for Corey to leave. "So.. As a result we couldn't make the cake", Corey concluded, obviously expecting an apology. Dylan refused to give in. "They're just eggs, innit", he said to taunt him. He recognised a nervous movement of weight from one of Corey's legs to the other. "It would have been.. You know.. Polite to buy them," Corey had difficulty expressing himself, "I don't know what happened of course. But you could have at least let me know". "Shit happens, mate", Dylan responded dryly and watched how Corey nervously tried to find the right facial expression. He ended up with a strange blend between polite and angry, reflected in a tense smile and eyes that did not know where to look. Dylan watched him struggle until he got annoyed by Corey's presence. "Are we done", he said rhetorically and turned his gaze to the television.

Corey stepped backwards, then refound himself and stood on both legs at once. Dylan looked back at him and observed how his eyes were suddenly filled with water, his lips pressed together in anger. "You cannot just brush it off like it doesn't matter", he exclaimed. His voice wavered, a mix of frustration and hurt evident in his tone. Corey's words hung loosely in the air but Dylan's frustration had reached its boiling point. "Fucking hell, mate", Dylan's voice echoed through the room. Corey startled but Dylan continued: "They're just fucking eggs. I'll buy you a dozen if it means you'd finally stop that endless nagging and whining. Can't you just give it a rest? Don't you have anything better to do in your life?". A tear rolled down Corey's cheek. He had lost any control over his posture and was now hopping between both legs, his fingers nervously playing with his sleeves. "Are you fucking sobbing over some eggs?", Dylan burst out. He stood up. Corey anxiously stepped backwards, accross the threshold of his room. Dylan approached. He felt an overwhelming temptation to strike him but suppressed it after lifting his hand, and slammed the door shut instead.

The strike that was supposed to hit Corey landed on the door. Seething with rage, his foot kicked against the side table which tumbled down. His alarm fell on the floor and a button broke off. He violently closed the door of his bathroom, reopened it and did it again. He could not see clearly and looked around his room to kick anything else. He took hold of the open window frame and slammed it close. The transparent glass shattered and fell out of its frame. "Fuck!", Dylan shouted and looked baffled at the remaining shards. The sharp pieces of glass reflected a cloudy sky. A slow breeze of cold air waved over the hairs on his arm.

He turned around and sat on the couch with his head resting on his hands. He pressed his eyes closed until it began to hurt. As a result a tear rolled down his own cheek. He immediately whiped it off and stood up. He looked aimlessly around the mess he made. His eyes found the city behind the broken window and stared at it while frozen in place. Twilight had covered the many houses in a cold, dim glow.

Dylan got his phone, suppressed any thought of Samuel or Monica and dialed Michael's number. The ringing tones merged with his heavy breathing and he attempted to calm down. "Yo, Dyl. Where were you today? You were supposed to be at uni." "Fucking Corey's getting on my nerves. Can I stay at yours tonight?"

This story is not progressing at all, we just keep reading about how lost Dylan is and his temper although there is no real reason why he is acting the way he is. The author either doesn't want to move it along or doesn't really know how in an organic way and refuses to give us any type of insight. Someone either needs to really put him in his place or he needs to be left alone and ignored so he knows how it feels to be treated like crap. I think I am still a Dylan fan but the way he is treating people does not make sense. Why would he not want to pick up Samuel's call, especially when he did what was asked of him and ended it with Monica.

We all know how screwed up he is because it's all that has really been drilled into our heads throughout the entire story. Now is the time to start dealing with whatever his issues are.

 

[DreamLoveAngels]

This story is not progressing at all, we just keep reading about how lost Dylan is and his temper although there is no real reason why he is acting the way he is. The author either doesn't want to move it along or doesn't really know how in an organic way and refuses to give us any type of insight. Someone either needs to really put him in his place or he needs to be left alone and ignored so he knows how it feels to be treated like crap. I think I am still a Dylan fan but the way he is treating people does not make sense. Why would he not want to pick up Samuel's call, especially when he did what was asked of him and ended it with Monica.

We all know how screwed up he is because it's all that has really been drilled into our heads throughout the entire story. Now is the time to start dealing with whatever his issues are.

Agreed, the story is going in 3 years at this point, some solutions should have been shown at this point, or at least focus on someone else, cause at least the title would make sense.

 

[Jc40952]

This story is not progressing at all, we just keep reading about how lost Dylan is and his temper although there is no real reason why he is acting the way he is. The author either doesn't want to move it along or doesn't really know how in an organic way and refuses to give us any type of insight. Someone either needs to really put him in his place or he needs to be left alone and ignored so he knows how it feels to be treated like crap. I think I am still a Dylan fan but the way he is treating people does not make sense. Why would he not want to pick up Samuel's call, especially when he did what was asked of him and ended it with Monica.

We all know how screwed up he is because it's all that has really been drilled into our heads throughout the entire story. Now is the time to start dealing with whatever his issues are.

Think I have to agree on this

 

[iter]

Dear writer.... what gives???? Don't you think it's time for an update?

 

[Hollyoaks08]

Dear writer.... what gives???? Don't you think it's time for an update?

A bit rude. Sometimes the updates are abit few and far between so you will just need to hold on to your horses until they are ready but when they happen you normally get a good few chapters

 

[Xxkpetersxx]

"What happened?", Michael asked with a grin while Dylan dropped his bag on the floor. "Corey's been driving me mad. He's been worse than ever these days." "You should've moved ages ago. I've told you before, mate. That wanker's no good." Dylan hung up his jacket. "Thanks for letting me stay", he said genuinely. "No problem. We've got each others back, haven't we." "Yea, we do." "I prepared you the guestroom. Or Harriet did at least." "I'll thank her."

Dylan took a long shower and went downstairs where he found Michael playing videogames. Michael was laying down on the carpet, just as Dylan used to do when he was a child. He smiled and sat down on an adjacent couch. He watched Michael's character move around a virtual world. "Did you bring your sport wear?", Michael asked with his eyes focused on the widescreen television. "Not really. Only my laptop and a toothbrush." "No worries. You can borrow mine." "Eh.. Thanks." "How long are you staying?", Michael asked immediately after. "I'll go home tomorrow." Michael got distracted by a series of violent activities. "Sure", he uttered afterwards.

At exactly eleven Michael logged out. He stood up and nodded Dylan to go upstairs. "It's sleepy time. Big day ahead, mate. You'll finish your first chapter", Michael grinned. Dylan ascended the floating treads towards the interior balcony. The four black stained timber doors were familiar by now. The one of Michael's room to the left, exactly opposed to the guestroom on the right. In between were two openings that led to the bathroom and walk-in wardrobe. After brushing their teeth Michael and Dylan parted ways, each retreating into the opposing rooms.

In the morning Michael bashed on his door. "I shouldn't be waking you up, mate. Put your own alarm", he said while peeking his head around the door.

When Dylan finally stumbled downstairs, Michael had already prepared breakfast. Michael was wearing nothing but his gym shorts while gulping down his food. He pointed to a second gym bag which was apparently meant for Dylan. Dylan joined him at the table and tiredly ate his bowl of yoghurt. The night had been restless as Samuel and Monica had merged together in his conscious dreams.

At the gym Dylan discovered Michael had packed his whole bag including a banana, a pack of yoghurt, an old pair of sport shoes that still looked brand new, a set of socks, clean underwear and wireless earphones.

At the end of the day Michael smiled when Dylan had managed to finish two chapters. Dylan had cheated on a few exercises without telling him but felt nonetheless proud of his achievement. "What shall we do tonight? Play FIFA?" "Sure. Up to you", Dylan replied. He mindlessly stepped in Michael's scratch-free car and followed him home.

"Same tomorrow?", Michael said at precisely eleven o'clock. "Sure. I'll better go home to grab my stuff. It's quite late." "You can grab some of my clothes. It's easier." "I don't want to be a burden." Michael nonchalantly pouted his lips. "Harriet does all the cleaning. If you don't make a mess of the place, she'll be fine."

Dylan did as he said and went to the dressing room upstairs, adjacent to the bathroom. He searched for a new pair of sport clothes and a clean boxer. The drawer contained many different colour variations. It felt odd choosing any of them so he went for a neutral black one. "Do you need clothes for tomorrow?", Michael asked with a toothbrush in his mouth. His bare upper body shined in the white ceiling light. He leaned on one leg with an air of unconcern. "I could wear today's clothes", Dylan said. Vertical wrinkles appeared between Michael's eyebrows when they contracted towards the middle. The ends of his lips curled upwards while the toothbrush stuck was surrounded by white foam. He pointed up one finger as a sign to wait. Dylan stood still while he heard Michael spit out the toothpaste in the adjacent room. "Mate", he shouted through the wall, "You should take care of yourself. Just borrow some of mine". Dylan did not protest and went through the different cabinets. He selected clothes that seemed to match together, or at least that he had seen together on Michael. "Sleep well, Dyl", he heard Michael shout and Dylan replied the same. He got to the room mirrored to Michael's and fell asleep.

"When's the last time you earned money?", Michael asked during diner. Harriet had prepared them beef with sweet potato salad. Dylan thought about the question. "No clue, mate. In April, May, I guess." "That's like seven months." Michael had just come back from work. He was still wearing a neat, white blouse, now with the first two buttons opened. "I guess", Dylan replayed. "You should call them up. Say you'd like to start again next week." "Can't we wait for after the exam?", Dylan asked irritated, "You said I needed to focus, right?". "Focus on your whole life. Not one tiny thing. It's important to keep everything on track. You shouldn't walk around like a headless chicken. Just call them tomorrow. You got a zero hour contract so you should be fine." "I guess." "It's important to earn your own money, mate. The sooner you start, the earlier you build up experience and get in another scale." Dylan could hear Michael's dad his voice echoeing. "I will", he replied annoyed. He did not feel like protesting. Michael smiled contently and continued eating.

 

[Xxkpetersxx]

"I'll be right back", Dylan whispered as he went to the bathroom. It was the third day on row sitting in the library. He had worked through many chapters and felt content about his progress. At the urinal he checked his phone mindlessly. He answered some of the open chats until he found Samuel's: 'Hey, Dyl. Shall we meet up some time soon? I'm curious what you've thought of the last few days'. Dylan wanted to reply with 'microeconomics' but decided to wait. He wanted to meet up without Michael breathing in his neck. He should have gone when Michael was at work. 'I quit it with Monica', he simply replied, 'I'll see you soon'. That should be enough information.
"I'm going home soon", Michael said. Dylan looked at his watch. "It's only four, mate. Are you feeling sick?" "I'm having someone over, so you'll have to fetch your own diner today", Michael simply declared. Dylan felt unreasonably light as if Michael had distrusted their continuous rhythm. "You can join for diner if you like", Michael offered. "I'm not third-wheeling your date, mate. I'll cook my own food. Who's coming over?" "A colleague from work." "It's for business?" Michael's bright teeth appeared. "None of that sort." "I thought it'd do no good dating a colleague." "She's from a different department. No worries." Michael stood up and packed his bag. Dylan's eyes followed his movements. "You can stay in the other living room. No one's home."

The main living room felt cold and empty. Dylan had switched position on the long couch thrice already but could not find a comfortable spot. He was watching a series on a screen that would not have fit in his own room but still felt small in the overdimensioned space. The white marble flickered in the LED lighting. He thought about what would occur two doors further. It was not difficult to imagine.

He shook off the thought and looked through the missed messages. A call from Monica. He felt like hearing her voice and pressed on the icon. The tones ringed but went on voicemail. He listened to her voice right until the tone sounded and quickly hung up. He wondered how she was feeling. He had probably not acted in accordance to her morals although he had to admit he did not fully understand hers. He quickly shrug off the thought and focused on the series playing in front of him.

Dylan followed the two pointers of the watch he had gotten from Michael. The silver metal shined gleamingly in the harsh lighting. If he looked close enough he could see the larger pointer move gradually as the minutes passed. The larger pointer passed another marker, now ahead of the smaller one. A showcase of the meticulous set of radars was visible through a circular whole. Then, as the radars obeyingly followed their determined movement, the larger pointer aimed straight upwards. Eleven o'clock.

Dylan stood up before the minute passed and turned off the electricity. He followed the long hallway to the other wing of the mountainous structure. He went through the door without listening. He heard two voices and six steps later saw the corresponding faces.

Michael had changed clothing. He was wearing a black pantalon and a white blouse, again with the first two buttons open. One of his nonchalant Derby shoes rested on the other knee. His hair was neatly combed backwards yet the front part fell deliberately tousled over his forehead. A broad smile appeared constantly present on his face. His right hand was holding a fragile glass of red wine while his left was wrapped around a girl. She appeared to look up to him, noticeable by her shoulders slightly bend forward and her hands holding her colourful skirt. Her blonde, curly hair framed her soft, pretty face. Dylan could not tell if she relied on lipstick or whether her lips were naturally that full, but it changed her appearance to the positive.

She noticed Dylan, immediately stood up, straightened her skirt, and smiled contagiously. "Pleasure to meet you! Hey, I'm Chantal." Dylan kissed her twice on her cheeks. "Dylan." "Is he your little brother?", she asked to Michael. Michael grinned and looked at Dylan with an enthusiastic smirk on his face. "You could say so." A peculiar tension lingered in the air after Michael's remark, though Dylan understood it was meant in jest. "He's having some troubles at home so he stays at our place for a while." "Oh, alright. Sorry to hear", she responded with compassion, "Well, I hope Michael takes good care of you". "Yea, he does", Dylan replied politely, knowing he should act like a thankful friend, "He keeps me on track". "That's good to hear." Dylan did not know what to ask her further but Michael already spoke up: "D'you fancy a glass, mate? It's quite delicious, isn't it Chantal?". "Yes, it really is. You should give it a try", she responded happily. Dylan smiled politely but refused the offer. "I'm quite tired, but thanks. I'll see you tomorrow.
"Your loss, mate. See you at uni." "Sure." He said goodbye to Chantal and went upstairs. University? They were supposed to visit the gym in the morning. Perhaps Michael was planning on sleeping out. Dylan went across the heightened walkway with one hand following the glass balustrade. He looked downwards to the laughing couple and felt it should have been him.

After a long, icy shower his endless contemplation was refreshed. He put on a dark blue boxers he had found in the dressing room. His hand already reached out for the door until he recalled the happening downstairs. It would give a strange reaction to pass the open walkway like that. Instead, he dried himself off, redid his messy hair, and put on the rest of the outfit. He checked himself in the mirror and went out without making too much noise.

Michael's confident posture had not changed except for one more button that had wondrously opened itself up. His bare, clean chest had become visible if it were not for Chantal's hand that had subtly slid beneath the cotton fabric. Their heads were tilted towards each other, their lips intertwined. Michael's hand had found its place against her upper leg, just below the coloured skirt.

Dylan stared at them until he became aware it might be inappropriate and went off to his room. He suddenly imagined himself indeed as the younger brother, innocent and unknowing, while Michael was living years ahead. He fell down on bed and stared at the ceiling. He became aware how fond he had secretly gotten over the last week despite Michael's derogatory attitude. Now that picture underwent a cruel distortion.

Footsteps ascended the stairs and entered the bathroom next door. He could hardly distinguish their voices. "... spare one. And here's toothpaste." "Thanks, Michael. You're such a gentleman." Dylan knew Michael was grinning at her compliment. He heard some more mumbled voices and then nothing for a while. "Can't believe we're doing this", Chantal's voice then sounded from the hallway. "Me neither. I've had my eye on you for a long...", Michael's volume got lower with each word as they went to the opposite bedroom. Dylan heard the door close.

The space suddenly carried a heavy weight as if the dark air had condensed itself right above Dylan's head. He longed for leaving this place and decided that sleep would be the quickest of remedies. He moved around with his back facing the door, put his alarm earlier than usual, and closed his eyes.

During one of the more conscious stages of sleep, a rhythmic noise had entered his senses. It pressed against his ears and appeared to resonate with his whole body. He analysed its character: the noise was muffled but loud enough to distinguish. It appeared to be a combination of thudding and clapping. After a while, it was joined with a shriller, more arbitrary, sound that reverberated through the open living room. It had a higher pitch and only followed the dull noise in irregular intervals. Dylan pressed the pillow on his ear and attempted to sleep further.

 

[Xxkpetersxx]

The alarm went off too soon. His hand slammed the clock and Dylan turned on his other side. He attempted to sleep until the night before recollected in his mind. He should leave before Chantal was awake. He went out of bed and realised he was still wearing Michael's clothes. He had never undressed himself the night before. Dylan searched for new clothes in the dressing room, packed his bag with the usual and went off without eating breakfast.
"Yo, Dyl. Good sign you're here." Dylan greeted a grinning Michael with a strong handshake. "How was it?", Dylan asked out of politeness yet did not want to hear the reply. "It was ace", his smile widened, "She's a wild one in the sheets. Honestly, we stayed up for quite a time. And she got late for work this morning, you know what I mean. I hope we didn't wake you up". "I didn't hear anything", Dylan lied, "Is there going to be a second date?". "Who knows", Michael avoided the topic as usual. He never told Dylan anything about his thoughts so Dylan always assumed these were absent. "She seemed nice", he attempted again but Michael was already preparing his setup for studying.

"Did you call your work already?", Michael asked during their lunch break. "Not yet", Dylan admitted. Michael's eyes closed together and his mouth moved to one side in aversion. Dylan looked away. "Mate. I told you to do so yesterday", Michael raised his voice, "You should get back on track. It's important to gain professional experience for future employees". "I know", Dylan replied frustrated, "I'll do it in the afternoon". "Why wait. Just call them right now. Say you'd like to work tomorrow." "Tomorrow's Saturday." "Whatever. Whenever they open." "I'm not calling them right now. We're having lunch", Dylan said impatiently. "C'mon, mate. I helped you get in the company in the first place. Are you honestly afraid? It's not that difficult, is it. I can do it for you if you want. I'll pretend to be you. Who should I call?" "Piss off. Alright, sure", Dylan said angrily and stood up. Michael's eyes twisted. "Where are you going?", he asked. Dylan examined his gaze to see if he was merely provoking him but there was no sign of it. "Fine." He sat down irritated and grabbed his phone.

He typed in the name of his boss and pressed on call. He looked anywhere else than Michael's observing eyes and waited. "Timothy here." "Hey, Timothy", Dylan cleared his throat, "It's Dylan. I've eh.. I've worked with you a couple months ago. I was wondering when I could pick up the tasks again. I could come on Monday". "Dylan?" "Yes. I've been in data analysis with..." "I know who you are, Dylan. Why are you calling?" "I was hoping to pick up my work." "What do you think? You haven't replied to any of our emails. You can't just barge in here and expect we have work for you. We are not some moron's charity." Michael's eyebrows moved barely noticeably upwards. "I eh..", Dylan began but could not anticipate clearly. Michael's fierce eyes radiated. "I could continue on the data analysis of intellectual property", he brought out. "I'm sorry, Dylan", Timothy said impatiently, "We don't have time for folks like you". He hung up.

Dylan pressed his lips together and looked at the cafetaria's linoleum flooring. "So?", Michael asked. "Don't pretend you didn't hear it", Dylan immediately answered. "Mate. Easy", Michael said offended, "It's not my fault, is it. I've told you many times you should keep in touch". "I wanted to prepare before calling them up", Dylan replied angrily, "Not right here with half a fucking sandwich in my mouth". "You should always be prepared for these conversations", Michael told him wisely, "In our world it can happen anytime". Dylan breathed through his nose and felt a pent-up pressure near his eyes. It would do no good saying anything else. Michael stared at him, simply lifted his shoulders, and continued to eat.
That evening Dylan had locked himself in the guestroom. He had wanted to go home but it was too cold outside. He was playing with his phone until his finger pressed on Samuel's number. A sharp tone filled the space and he lowered the volume. "Hey, Samuel here." "Sam, it's me." "Buenas tardes, Dyl. How are you doing? It's nice to hear your voice." "I'm fine, you?" "It's going great. I've been having quite unique art classes this week. I've even done pottery with Wendy. What have you been up to?" "The usual." "Getting fitter and smarter?" "About right. The test is in four days. I'm not even halfway." It came out more desparate than he had hoped for. "You'll be fine, Dylan", Samuel immediately anticipated empathically, "You've done it before. Michael's helping you out, no?". "I'll be fine. No worries", he answered quickly to close the topic. He wanted to be with Samuel, to see his happy eyes and messy curly hair. For a few seconds Dylan could only hear a low cracking sound on the line. "Hey, Dyl", Samuel finally spoke up, "I was wondering when I could see you again. I'd like to talk to you. You know, to hear your conclusions about last time. But I'd rather not do it through phone". Dylan would do nothing less but could not leave this place yet. He needed focus. "We could meet up soon." "Tonight?" "I'm at Michael, sorry." "Oh, alright.. Tomorrow then?" Dylan hesitated. He felt like seeing Samuel but it was rather soon. "I eh.. I'll check", he replied and looked at his calendar even though nothing was there. "Sorry, you've got your test coming up of course. If you want, we could do it afterwards. I hope you'll pass it. Would you be available Tuesday night?" "Yea, I guess." "Shall I come to yours?" "No", Dylan said fast, "I'll be there. Listen, I gotta get up tomorrow. I'll see you soon". "Sure, Dyl. Sleep well and I hope to see you soon. It was nice hearing your voice." "You too, Sam."

Michael's body was sweating. His face had a red blush while his cheeks were filled with air. He exhaled slowly when he pulled the steel structure with all its force backward. His biceps tensioned and his back muscles created a tangible texture on his compression shirt. The black polyester followed his hollow back and lean waist until his loose football shorts. Dylan envied him for having additional weights so he decided to search for another machine.

"Who were you talking to yesterday?", Michael's loud voice echoed through the dressing room. Two other guys present pretended to not pay attention but Michael did not even seem to notice them. "What d'you mean", Dylan said while he thought of an excuse. Michael pulled off his shirt and shorts. "Last night. I heard you talking to someone when I passed your room. Around ten thirty. Was it Monica?" "No, it was Leo. I was talking with him about Isabella." "What'd she do?" "Nothing out of the ordinary. You know what's Leo like." "Didn't know you two called each other up." Michael stepped out of his boxers and searched for the shampoo bottle. His body was still moist due to their workout routine. Dylan repeated him and followed him to the showers. He took the one opposite and faced the wall.
"I've been calling around", Michael said and then stopped. Dylan waited for him to continue until Michael put his hand on Dylan's shoulder. The weight of his fingers pressed firmly against his skin, almost reaching the bones beneath. Michael pulled as a sign for him to turn around. Dylan did as he said and faced Michael. A stream of drops travelled over Michael's genuinely happy face. His dark eyes beamed delighted through the falling of water. His broad, tanned shoulders and chest stood out clearly from the white tiled background. His legs confidently supported the straight posture of his toned upper body. His body was as usual present without any concern in the compact space.

Dylan nodded as sign to continue which Michael enthusiastically did. "I've been calling around, you know, since your last company bailed on you. And I've found another. They're searching for a junior data consultant. It's a slightly bigger firm and you'll need to work one day a week but it's a good starting salary. Are you down?" Dylan could not help but grin. "You actually searched for a company?" "I called around at work. Believe me. It's best to find one through your own network." Dylan was at a loss for words. He had not even thought about finding a new company. Michael's eyes smiled together with his mouth. "So?", he asked. "Eh.. Sure. I'd need some more details though." "You can ask them yourselves. I've arranged a meeting on Wednesday. After the test of course." Dylan scoffed. "For real? How?" "I just pretended to be you." Dylan grinned from ear to ear at the thought. Michael raised his eyebrows shortly and reached his hand up. He held the back of Dylan's neck, his fingers through his short hair. "Don't fuck it up this time", he joked. He then patted Dylan on his cheek without any sense of discomfort and turned off the shower valve.

 

[Di_No]

There's definitely tension there.

 

[Xxkpetersxx]

That evening they were having drinks at Michael's place as a reward for Dylan finishing three chapters in one day. Just one bottle of wine together, more was not allowed by Michael. Michael was wearing a dark blue longsleeve with the black collar of his blouse popping out. He sat down on the couch with his legs spread and one arm leaning on the backrest. Dylan had chosen to wear one of Michael's more casual outfits but still felt unnecessarily neat.

"Did you hear about Oscar?" "The one who got in jail?" Michael giggled uncontrollably. "Yea, that one. That wanker managed to spend a night in jail again." "For real?" "My company's letting him down." "Logically. What did he do this time?" "Same. It's a quite complex scheme. You wouldn't understand. But it's basically embezzlement. He's a mate of Cameron. You know, the one who punched you." Dylan clearly remembered Cameron. He scoffed and grinned. "Alright then. Happy to hear he's in jail." "He got out already. They haven't got enough evidence. Clever lad." "What about Cameron?" "He's becoming a lawyer." "I thought he worked at your company." "We've got lawyers as well." Dylan apparently had still no clue what exactly Michael's company was doing but he did not want Michael to know. He simply took another sip and rested back in his couch.

"Man, that was some night", Michael said with a deep sigh. "What was?" "The one when Cameron knocked you over." "That wanker can piss off." Michael grinned. "He's a funny one. Why did he do it again? Right, you were making out with that Spanish bloke, no?" Michael shook his head with a grin. Dylan did not affirm the story. "Are you still seeing him?", Michael then asked carelessly. There was no sign of shame or caution in his question so Dylan responded with: "On occasion". Michael drank another sip and grinned as if he relived the other night. "What's he? Gay?" "He's bi, I think", Dylan said carefully. "Does he ever, you know, make unwanted advances?", Michael asked genuinely curious. "Not really", Dylan thought would be the best reply. Michael thought about it, shrug his shoulders and drank another sip.

"I heard you and Monica broke up", Michael then said. So he knew already. "Yea, we did. How'd you know?" "Everyone knows, mate. Nobody understands." "What d'you mean?", Dylan asked to which Michael grinned. "Mate. You're perfect for each other. I've been telling you since I met her. Honestly, you can't find any better." Dylan had no clue what to respond. He was afraid he had made a mistake and Michael was right. He stared at the sidetable and thought about how she had blamed herself. "Why'd you do it?", Michael asked curiously. Dylan wondered how long Michael had been waiting to pose this question, and why it could suddenly be posed in this situation. "She wanted more. I just didn't feel like it." "Are you scared?" "No, mate. I'm not scared", Dylan immediately defended, "I just didn't see a future with her". He knew he was repeating the same words he had told Monica without knowing whether they were true. Michael thought about it for a few seconds. "Alright. Your loss, I guess. Is she available now?" Dylan looked at Michael and was relieved to encounter a big grin on his face. "I'm kidding, mate", he said and laughed hard, "I wouldn't do that". Dylan smiled and shook his head. With that, the topic was closed.

"You seemed to have a good time with Chantal the other night though." Michael's eyes lit up and his voice increased in speed. "Mate. She was a screamer. We fucked for two hours straight. Did you see her ass? She was fit." "She was pretty", Dylan had to admit. "Fucking hell, mate. She was all over me", Michael continued shamelessly and then laughed uncontrollably. "You know what she did? She..." He could not hold back his laughter. He expressively bent over until he regained himself. "I was fucking her in doggy. You know, quite fast. She was really into it. Mate, you should've seen her ass bounce. Anyway, she was apparently reaching her climax. I didn't know, 'cause, you know, she was screaming all the time. She started trembling but I simply thought she enjoyed my knob too much. So I just continued thrusting my dick in her. Then apparently I pushed one too hard and.." Michael giggled and had to put down his glass of wine. He held two hands in front of his crotch as if holding her by her waist. He pushed his middle upwards with a big gesture. "I pushed and she couldn't keep her balance so she dived face forward off bed." Michael reenacted her fall with his hand. "There she laid with her whole body trembling. So I rush toward her, thinking she had some type of epileptic seizure. But she got up only with her nose bleeding." He laughed contagiously and Dylan could not help but join in. "Did you finish afterwards?", he asked in between laughs. "Of course, mate", Michael bragged, "We got her nose clean. Then I just asked her to suck me off for the rest". "Did she swallow?" Michael grinned and hit Dylan in his knee. "You're a curious little lad, innit." Dylan protested but Michael already continued unconcerned: "She didn't unfortunately. Maybe next time. I had to get her a towel while she was waiting with her cheeks blown up. I deliberately took a bit longer to see her struggle". "Why do they not swallow. It's not that hard, is it", Dylan complained jokingly. Michael grinned and took another sip of red wine. "Dunno, mate. Would you?" "Me?" "Yea. If you were sucking someone off. I wouldn't." "Why would you be sucking anyone off", Dylan asked with a confused smile. Michael rolled with his eyes. "Hypothetically, mate. Jesus Christ. Don't get your hopes up." Dylan laughed. "My hopes? You begin talking about sucking a lad off." "You're no fun either, are you now", Michael grinned. He poured himself the bottom of the wine bottle and shook his head.

"Will there be a second date with Chantal?", Dylan asked, hoping the glasses of wine had loosened him. Michael looked at him with radiating eyes and then looked elsewhere. "Dunno, mate. Perhaps." "She seemed like good company." "Yes, she was." "Can't you ask her out again?" Michael stared into the distance, his lips curled up in an unidentifiable smile. "Who knows", he said. At first, Dylan wanted to leave it, knowing he had never been able to get more information than this. Then, he decided to try a new approach. "Are you scared?", he repeated Michael's words. Michael laughed and woke up. "Piss off, mate", he simply said with a loud voice, "I just can't be bothered with putting in more effort. This part is no fun". "What d'you mean, this part?" Michael scoffed. "The thrill's in the chase, innit."

Dylan was brushing his teeth while observing himself in the mirror. He looked quite well in Michael's clothes. He only needed to get a haircut. Perhaps tomorrow. Michael barged in wearing nothing but his typical, saturated red underwear. He was holding the laundry with two hands. He bent over and put it in the machine. "You got anything to clean?" "I thought Harriet would do it." "I'm old enough to wash my own clothes, mate. We're not that posh." "So you've been washing my clothes last week as well?" "Of course. So? Any dirty clothes?" "Everything's in the bin." Michael stood up and observed Dylan. "What about those?" "I've only worn them today." "Were you gonna wear them again tomorrow?", Michael mocked him in disbelief. He waved his hand as gesture to remove his clothes and Dylan obeyed. With the toothbrush in his mouth he undressed himself. He handed the clothes to Michael who put them in. Michael then nonchalantly bent down and removed his own boxers. His soft manhood wobbled against his legs. He threw the boxers in the machine, put it on and went outside.

A moment later he returned with a big towel in his hands. He turned on the valve, undisturbed by Dylan's presence, and began to shower. Through the mirror Dylan watched how the water cascaded over Michael's broad shoulders and soaked his skin. With fluid motion, Michael applied shampoo in his hair, vigourously massaging it until white foam engulfed his entire head. Tilting his head below the shower, the foam dispersed itself over his whole body. White clouds of bubbles clung near his groin until Michael dispelled them with a casual stroke of his hand. "This shower's fucking golden", he said loudly to overcome the splashing of water. Dylan turned around and pretended he had not paid any attention: "What?". Michael repeated his words as he rinsed off. "We got a bath as well in the other wing. You should try it. It looks over across the garden. It honestly feels liberating to be naked in the open air." He then turned off the water and began to dry himself. His lean physique made him appear longer and broader. Whenever he would bent down, his abdominals contracted and formed a neat order. He hung the towel over his shoulder and nodded for Dylan to move aside. Dylan did as he said and watched how Michael drank water directly from the tap. He splashed the cold water in his face, shook his head and stood straight up again. He grinned boyishly at Dylan. From this close a distance Dylan could distinguish the tiny hairs that had grown on his chin and jawline over the day. "You ready for another day?", Michael asked. "Sure", Dylan responded. Michael tapped him on his shoulder and went away.