Damien: FriendMature

The week or so before I finally got out of jail at the beginning of November was awkward to say the least. Me and Nathan had already made up after we split, but I could feel jealousy practically coming off him in waves before I left. I was getting out eight months early, and he wasn't, and according to him, it wasn't fair. I'd have told him exactly how to secure himself an early release but the guy in charge of these things promised me he'd change my files to show a longer sentence rather than an early release if I told anyone how I got out of there.

I don't think it really takes a genius to figure out all it takes is being good at sucking cocks, and knowing which cocks to suck.


Kyle and Rayn come to pick me up on the day I'm released. I'm let out wearing a pair of blue cotton pants and a shirt to go with it. I feel like an idiot wearing them, and like it's some kind of mark saying ‘this person has just been released from jail, feel free to stare and make comments'.

Kyle wraps me in this smothering hug the moment they arrive to find me waiting outside for them. I hug back, feeling a weird mix of emotions that I can't seem to pull apart and figure out. He plants a small kiss on my cheek and I smile a little, sort of struggling to deal with the rushing feelings of relief, freedom, weirdness and a sort of overwhelming feeling of oh-my-god-what-the-fuck-do-I-do-now?

"C'mon, let's get you home," he smiles, letting go long enough for Rayn to throw himself at me and demand a piggyback. Kyle laughs - I think it's at Rayn, but I'm not really sure.

When we get back, Kyle attempts to make me something nice to eat. To be honest, he could've opened a can of spaghetti hoops and given it to me cold and I'd be happy with that. So what he makes us for dinner is like a fucking gourmet meal to me. He smiles, apparently noticing me enjoying it. In fact, he keeps smiling right up until I've scraped the last tiny bits off my plate.

"So how're you enjoying being back in the world?"

"It's weird. I feel like I'm on one of those probation days and that I'm gonna be going back in a few hours."  He chuckles and ruffles my hair, having to reach across Rayn to get at me since the little bastard is wedged firmly in between us.

After a while, someone comes up with the suggestion of putting on a movie. I agree, grateful for the opportunity to sit and zone out for a bit and try to let my head rest. I'm allowed to choose what we watch, and I end up picking the DVD that Kyle got me that Christmas we spent on the run together ages ago. I probably wouldn't have but fuck it, it's my favourite movie, and I've spent the last three years and four months without watching anything I enjoy.

I sort of notice Kyle sneaking glances at me throughout the film, and a vague part of my mind keeps wondering why. The other part of my mind is screaming at me to get out of this apartment as soon as I can. As much as I love the two of them, having to live with them is suddenly a much more daunting idea than I'd originally imagined.

When I glance back at him a couple times, our eyes meeting, he blushes a little. I feel the confusion I feel flicker onto my face slightly. Why's he blushing? He turns his attention back to the movie and after a couple of minutes, I do too.

After the movie's finished, Rayn bounces off, announcing that Scruffles is feeling neglected. Me and Kyle smile at each other, and I kind of wonder what to say to him, or whether I really need to say anything. I guess I've gotten too used to trying to fill up our half hour visiting times with so much talking.

"I meant what I said the other day. You can stay here as long as you need so don't go picking somewhere shit to live just to get out of our way."

"If I end up picking somewhere shit, it'll be because I can't get a job that pays well enough to get anywhere better," I say, smiling ever so slightly.

"I can ask at the restaurant, if you want?"

"You really think somewhere that posh will take on an ex junkie criminal?" I laugh a little, unable to help the tiny, tiny amount of bitterness that creeps into it. He ruffles my hair again. He does that a lot lately. It's weird.

"As long as you can carry plates, they won't care."

I shrug, "might as well. I can't stay here and bum around, can I?"

"I can help out a bit towards an apartment. I've still got the money I was gonna use to get you a better lawyer."

I chuckle, "save it, gorgeous. Spend it on Rayn or something."

"I don't mind," he smiles, "you are my friend, after all, and I wanna help you get back on your feet." Friend. Fuck. Why does that hurt so much more now I'm out of jail?


The End

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