A Different Perspective Ch. 03

Eric mentioned fortune cookies, and then a little came back to me. I had eaten my cookie last night. And then... I think I may have said something dumb? Possibly inappropriate? I added "in bed" to the end of whatever my fortune was. Mark had always hated that; he said it was stupid and immature. Naturally, I never admitted I found it amusing. So yeah, I had read my fortune and added that, and it had felt good. Like I was somehow spiting Mark, because he was a cheating asshole. It was almost like the equivalent to spitting in his soup, only he was dead, so soup was out of the question. So, that wasn't so bad. I remember dropping food on the floor -- my eyes immediately went to the spot where I had stood the night before. The kitchen table partially blocked my view from the dining room. Clean floor. Interesting. I stared, and thought. I looked up, and Keith was finally looking at me. I smiled the nicest smile I could muster, and tried not to look confused. He gave a tentative smile back. Did Keith hit on me the night before? Was that why he was so nervous?

It didn't feel right. He wouldn't have hit on me if I was drunk, I was fairly certain of that. Of course, he may not have realized... then a little more came back. I had told him I was... shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fucking shit. It was coming back. This was bad. I finally remembered, in glorious detail. I don't know how I had blocked it out, but I wished I didn't remember. No wonder he couldn't meet my eye... I was the hugest asshole in the world. If previous events hadn't proved it, hitting on my emotionally-damaged friend did. Well, okay, I didn't really believe he was damaged, but Eric did, and I couldn't argue that Keith had made his way through his fair share of shit-heads.

Dinner was finally over, and Eric and Kyle seemed to sense the tension, or else had enough tension of their own to sort out. They left quickly, almost suddenly, and then it was Keith and I. Just. Us. Oh, fuck. I'm not really the loquacious type, not like Eric or even Keith, but I simply could not think of a word to say. Just say something, I scolded myself, anything!

"So, dinner was good, wasn't it?" I finally managed. Fuck me; I'm such a loser. That was literally the best thing I could come up with.

"Yes, it was," Keith said quietly. He was sitting on the edge of the couch with his hands folded neatly in his laps. Finally, the birds were quiet. "So, Travis, I wanted to... ask... err, talk to you... about last night..."

The birds fluttered to life, pulling at his cuffs and smoothing his pants around his knees. His face was beet red. Yup, I'm definitely the biggest ass ever.

"Yeah, look, I'm --"I started, barely a moment before Keith continued.

"Did you --"

We both stopped and looked at each other.

"Did you mean it, Travis?" Keith asked quietly, looking me square in the eye.

"Err, what?" I stammered. Silence. Keith broke eye contact, choosing instead to look at his hands which were once again folded in his lap. He looked very, very sad.

"Keith," I said quietly, leaning forward to put my hand very gently on his forearm, "I'm really sorry I was a jerk. Really sorry. I don't want to fuck up our friendship because I was a drunken asshole."

Keith glanced up at me, but remained silent.

Okay, panic... sweet panic. Keith didn't seem mad; he just seemed oddly upset by the whole thing. What the hell was I supposed to do with that?

"You weren't an asshole, I just... didn't know if that's what you really wanted," Keith said finally. He was looking away in a very determined fashion. Suddenly, I felt very tired. And still a bit hung-over, if truth be told. Had I ever thought of Keith in a way one could call a little too friendly? Maybe when I was younger, and Mark and I were still new. Keith's not bad looking, and when you're hardly past teenagers, well... anyway, I was pretty sure we would mesh alright in a relationship, but I was pretty sure we wouldn't mesh well in the bedroom. Wanting the same things... just like Keith and his ex. I could see it clear as day. No, sex would be a bad idea, because one of us wouldn't get what we really wanted.

"Umm, well, I... was, kind of," I stumbled through the sentence. Awkward. Plus again I was struck completely wordless.

"Travis, I... shit, I don't know," he said, obviously agitated. He was staring at me, and before I knew it his hand was on the back of my neck and his lips were on mine. Keith's lips.

I pushed him away, but held onto his arm like I had never intended to let go. I couldn't believe he had kissed me. Had I been so blind that I missed Keith's feelings for me? Did he really have feelings for me? Then, crazier yet, I pulled him back until our lips met.