Pretenders

A Cry For Help

Normally Chester loved watching movies, and one of his favorites was rolling across the screen. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Lake Placid. It was perfect. Giant alligator terrorizes a small town. It was an added plus that it starred Bill Pullman and Bridget Fonda. Of course Betty White feeding the alligator and keeping it as her "pet" was just the icing on the theatrical cake.

But Chester wasn't doing a good job keeping his attention on the giant killer gator. Lake Placid had been playing for less than thirty minutes, and Chester couldn't stop staring at his and Mike's feet. They were sitting side-by-side on their bed upstairs. They were both fresh from the shower and dressed down in pajama pants and t-shirts. Chester's feet were bare, Mike's were covered in army green and black striped socks.

It wasn't the socks that were distracting, but the way things had changed since yesterday. Chester was still trying to understand how their blissful weeks together had somehow gotten out of control. At least that's what Mike had said that morning when they woke up and Chester was ready to smoke their ritual pre-breakfast joint. His boyfriend had said no, and suggested they take it easy today.

I went to get a beer earlier, and he gave me a look. He's not drinking. He doesn't want to smoke. Just all of a sudden.

Chester looked over at his boyfriend, careful not to be obvious about it. Mike seemed like he was incredibly interested in the movie they'd seen dozens of times. Chester knew over the last few weeks that they'd both been drinking and smoking a lot. He knew that over those weeks, he'd been sneaking more drinks than Mike knew about. Every soda he drank was spiked with rum. Every time Mike went to the bathroom, Chester snuck a little more from the cabinet. Part of Chester - the addict inside of him - needed it, and as the days went on, it was getting harder and harder to say no, so he didn't. Mike hadn't seemed to care, so Chester didn't put much thought into it.

But last night. God, I was so wasted last night.

He sucked in a small breath as he tried to remember. Again. After a day of drinking - even after Brad had left - the evening was a blur. He remembered going upstairs with Mike. He remembered talking about the tour schedule, but that had turned into banter and eventually flirting. He remembered his lover kissing on him, and laying down in their bed....but that's where his memories stopped. Did we have sex last night? Fuck, I can't even remember.

He pulled his bottom lip in, sucking on his phantom piercing as he tried to figure it out. They'd gone from kissing that night, to Mike waking up this morning and announcing he didn't want to partake in anything today - that they needed an easy day to get their thoughts together. Chester had no idea what that meant, but it was scaring him.

What if we had sex and it sucked? He's upset about it. I was drunk. I was fucking drunk, he whined in his head as he looked away and down at his bare feet, sticking out of the bottom of his red pajama pants. I can't remember. Fuck. Why do I keep doing this? It's just like that night with Sam.

Chester gasped. Thankfully it was right at a moment in the movie when someone's head was bitten off by the alligator, so his boyfriend didn't seem to notice. Chester's hand was over his mouth, but it wasn't from the attack on screen. What if I did something really bad? What if I said something awful to him? He doesn't seem mad....just...something's wrong. I did something wrong.

It was a fact in Chester's head. He hated that he couldn't remember why it was his fault. It was embarrassing, and there was no way he was going to tell Mike that he couldn't remember. That he didn't know if they had sex last night or not or if they'd gotten into a fight. It was scary and Chester really wished he had a drink right now so he could stop thinking about it.