Forbidden Pleasure

Chapter 1

When Michael opened his eyes, he was lying in a massive, old fashioned bed covered with sheets made of pure satin, in a room that seemed endless. 'Take Five' was softly playing on the pickup located in the corner. Looking around, he realized he was in a hotel. He made efforts of lifting his head up and examine the room further, but this only caused him to feel nauseous, so he gave up, groaning and allowing his head to fall back on the pillow.

"Well well well, sleeping beauty has awakened." His sarcastic, bold Scottish accent alarmed Michael, who instantly realized to who it belonged.

"James." He whispered faintly. "W-What happened?.." He questioned, slowly turning his head to face James standing on the edge of the bed, wearing jeans and a blue shirt.
James slowly climbed on the bed and rested on one elbow beside him.

"If I wasn't at the same bar you were last night, you would be probably still lying on the ground. You're in the suite of the fanciest hotel in London. Mate, you drank quite a lot back there! What's bugging Mr.Magneto, eh?" He teased, playfully punching Michael's arm.

Struggling to keep his eyes on James' gaze, Michael recalled Margaret leaving him once more in his head. His face stiffened, as he tried to fight back the upcoming tears that threatened to betray his manhood, and embarrass him in front of one of his best mates.

James knew Michael too well to be deceived. He furrowed his brow and placed his hand on Michael's arm. "Mike, what's wrong pal?"

Michael looked at the ceiling, avoiding James's gaze. He let out a sigh and confessed; "It's Margaret....she left. She left me. Like everyone else." He said bluntly.
"O-oh...I'm sorry..Michael I really am.."

James was never good at comforting his friends. Perhaps because he was living the life of a bachelor, or maybe because he never really knew what people are meant to say if one of their friends breaks up.

Michael nodded understandingly. He also, knew James too well.

It was then when he realized he was only wearing his boxers. He turned to face James, still feeling dizzy and tired, and pointed at his chest while raising his eyebrow, as if demanding to know how he ended up being almost naked.

James blushed. "Dude, you spilled your last drink all over your clothes. What was I supposed to do?"

Michael eyed him sarcastically and tried to lift his head, just to be once more knocked out by the nauseous feeling that occupied him. "Ow..." He groaned holding his head.

"You better lie there, I'll go fetch you an aspirin." James slowly got off the bed and headed to the kitchen.

Michael watched him leave, as dozens of questions formed his mind.
Since when did James become so caring? Why was he at the same bar that he was last night? How could James bear to undress him? How did he bring him here? Did he carry him in his arms?

Michael desperately wanted to get answers. And this surprised him.