Snippets of an affair ~ First Pain

[zahraowens]

Title: Snippets of an affair (6/?) ~ First Pain Author: zahra_owens Beta: iona_lewis Rating: PG Word Count: 1384 Warnings: Beware of boy-loving, guy on guy, and what's more, they're cheating on their boyfriends. Disclaimer: Persons and events described here may, on the surface, seem familiar, but I don't have a clue what I'm talking about. Author's note 1: The POV may change throughout the story, so the 'I' from this chapter may not be the 'I' from the previous chapter

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I wait in the bathroom stall until you've left and recall the first time you walked out on me. I felt like a bastard then, guilty for having been unfaithful to my partner, disgusted by my eagerness. Although I've essentially done it again, the feeling this time is different. This time I feel alive and happy, elated even. It's like something has awakened inside me, something I haven't felt for fifteen years and I knew the moment I saw you smile at me in the chapel, that there was no keeping the beast down. To hell with my conscience!

There is still my lover to consider of course, so we'll have to keep quiet about our little tryst, but then it was just sex right? And it wasn't like he socialises with me all that much. Then again, keeping this up under our friends' noses is bound to get us caught at some point, so it would be better if we could call each other to arrange to meet somewhere far away from prying eyes. I'll just slip you my cell phone number and I'm sure you'll know what to do with it. That way the ball will also be in your court in case you thought that twice was already one time too many.

I walk out of the stall and am passed by a burly man who then sighs audibly as he relieves himself. Not to look conspicuous, I wash my hands and look in the mirror. I realise I look smug and I try to wipe the grin off my face but I can't. This is why I wanted to be fucked by you again. Because now I've had time to realise that it doesn't change anything between my lover and me, but it changes a lot for me personally. I scribble my cell phone number on a napkin I find in my jacket pocket and exit the Gents hoping that you're still there so I can slip it to you.

The crowd has thinned considerably and the people that remain are either quite drunk and draped over the sofas that are set up around the reception hall or they have just arrived and are scouring the hall for whatever is left over of the drinks and canapés. I look around to see if you're still there and then my heart stops. You're there all right and you're in animated conversation. With my lover.

I try to control my breathing and all sorts of things flash through my mind. Will he tell you that he is my lover? Will you rat on me? It will only take a snide remark from you about 'just getting lucky in the gents' and then you blushing as I show up to give us away. He may be overconfident in my faithfulness, but he isn't blind and since he's got a jealous streak brought on by a paranoid personality, he'll surely join the dots in an instant.

Just as I turn around in an attempt to get out of there unseen, he calls to me and I have no choice.


I purposely keep my eyes on him, shunning you, because I'm afraid that if my nerves don't give me away, the twinkle in my eye will. Luckily he doesn't seem to notice as he introduces us to each other and we shake hands. You're a good enough actor apparently to hide the fact that we know each other quite well even though we've only just heard each other's names. You ask me what I do for a living, but you're cut short by him as he abruptly and quite rudely changes the subject to the wedding. I know he's not interested in that, otherwise he would have shown up for that as well, but his need to dominate this conversation worries me. He's loud and in-your-face, at least more than he usually is and that never promises anything good. I gently lay my hand on his shoulder and try to coax him away from you, but he refuses and perseveres in asking you whether he's met you before. I see you trying to stay courteous, smiling uncomfortably as he asks you rather personal questions and you navigate through them, clearly accustomed to not revealing anything about yourself, but at the same time giving your conversation partner the idea that you're frank and forthright. I am torn between trying to get you off the hook and patiently waiting in the hope that you tell him little bits about yourself. I find out you have a boyfriend, but that you're in a non-exclusive relationship. I'm thrilled to find out that he's often away for a number of days at a time, but I manage to hide my glee. I do see you give me a look at one point that I interpret as desperation and I decide that it's been enough for a first meeting. No beans have been spilled and since I'd like to keep it that way, I tell my lover that we promised to stop by his mother on the way home and that we'd better get a move on so we don't catch her in her nighty. When he's in one of these moods, only playing the mother card will get the desired result, so I'm glad he reacts favourably and says his goodbyes to you. I politely shake your hand too, and smile, trying to tell you with my eyes not to react to the piece of paper I transfer to you from my palm to yours. I see you pocket the paper inconspicuously as I coax my lover away from you and walk outside with him, dreading the time that will pass until you call me.

At least I hope you'll call me. Maybe the next time your boyfriend leaves for a few days?

While I drive to his mother's house I daydream about our next encounter. Maybe we'll have a bed then? Or maybe you'll let me fuck you this time? The possibilities are endless and really only limited by my imagination. The dreaming makes it easy for me to shut out the incessant droning as my lover doesn't stop ranting, sometimes about totally unrelated things and then it dawns on me and it instantly makes me incredibly nervous again.

"Did you stop taking your medication again?"

He doesn't listen, probably hasn't even heard me, so I drive over to the kerb and stop the car.

"Did you stop taking your medication?" I ask him again, enunciating every single word carefully in an attempt to stay in control of my voice.

He stops talking mid-sentence and looks at me briefly before averting his eyes. I can see he can't sit still, his mind racing a mile a minute and his body desperate to keep up, and my good mood is instantly gone. I know what this means and I want to cry out at him while he starts raving again, pleading with me, telling me he doesn't need all the chemical bullshit any more because he feels better without it and he wants to be able to live his life to the fullest.

"At the expense of the life of others," I murmur, gritting my teeth. He doesn't let on that he heard me and it doesn't really matter now. I start the car again and pull into traffic, which is light for a change and I'm grateful for that. I don't turn into his mother's street, because I know I can't take him to see her now. She'll know what's going on from the moment she lays eyes on him and it will make her immeasurably sad. She's incredibly sweet and I wouldn't want to do that to her. He, of course, doesn't even notice that we've deviated from the original course, his mind already five steps ahead of everything else.

Like him, the higher I fly, the harder I'll fall and I start resenting the fact that you came into my life, giving me a taste of happiness, albeit fleeting and now I must watch it being snatched away right in front of my eyes.

Instead all I'll have is sleepless nights and days worrying what trouble I'll have to bail him out of this time.

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