"Damien, would... Would you let me kiss you again?" To say I'm surprised when I hear those words come out of his mouth would be an understatement. At first, I go to nod, but then inside somewhere, something goes ‘stop letting him use you'. And then I'm uncertain. Does he actually like me, or is he, like my head is saying, just using me for comfort? I can't tell, and the methadone's not helping.
I nod. He leans in, kind of nervously pressing his lips against mine, pulling away as I kiss back.
"Sorry," he mumbles.
"What for?" I ask, trying to ignore my stomach flipping over inside of me. Is he apologising for using me, or for something else?
"I shouldn't have." I can't help the questioning look that slips onto my face at that. He bites his lip, and I watch, waiting for some kind of reason why he shouldn't have kissed me. "I'm s'posed to be in love with Danny." I sigh, leaning back into the sofa as I pull my knees up to my chest, hugging them there. "And you're in love with Phil." Dude, I don't know what my name is most days, let alone whether I actually love Phil or not.
I can feel the methadone waning already. My dealer was a real bitch about selling my own methadone back to me. He gave me a tiny dose.
"So I'm sorry." I shrug. Both of us fall quiet and I watch as Kyle begins to bite his nails. He doesn't seem to notice. I prod him. He looks over at me, but I've already gone back to hugging my knees. "You okay?" I cover a yawn.
"I've felt better."
"Oh." I don't say anything. "Um... Is there... Is there anything I can do?" Make heroin work again. Bring Phil back. Make me a normal guy with a normal life.
Don't kiss me anymore.
"I dunno. Just... Just don't go anywhere."
"I won't." I nod and close my eyes, trying to ignore the wave of nausea that's about to come crashing down on me.
"Can I use your bathroom?" he nods and I practically run to it, just about making it to the toilet in time. I wait until my stomach is empty before I do my best to clean myself up, but I'm feeling so dopesick that it's nearly impossible. I manage to get back downstairs and curl up on the sofa, eyes shut tight. And what does Kyle do? He apologises. "What're you apologising for now?" I groan.
"That was my fault." I open one eye, arching my eyebrow.
"How is it your fault I'm dopesick?"
"I'm disgusting and sickening like Danny said. And I kissed you and it made you puke." Oh my god. You idiot, Kyle. I uncurl a little bit and take his hand, squeezing it a little.
"I'm just dopesick. You're not disgusting don't be stupid."
"I am stupid, though."
"Only ‘cause you think your kiss make me puke," I laugh weakly. He looks kind of upset still and I haul myself up, pulling him into another hug. He hugs back with a sniffle and I rest my head on his shoulder, fairly confident there's nothing left to puke up. He sniffles again. I rub his back a little, trying simultaneously to comfort him and move as little as possible. He kisses the top of my head and my stomach flips. Don't do that, Kyle. "You gonna eat that pizza?" I mumble, "it's gonna be cold soon." He shakes his head and I force myself to kiss his cheek and leave it at that. "Please?" he shakes his head again and I cuddle him a bit tighter, unsure whether it's because I just got another wave of nausea or because I don't want to see Kyle starving himself in front of me.
I close my eyes, trying to ignore both the sickness and my apparently growing crush on Kyle.