This story is a prequel to Forgive and Forget. If you haven't read that one, you can go read it now, or read it later, or not read it at all. *shrugs* It's a free country, after all. :)
Dedicated to Fianna. Because she beta-read it for me. And because she's actually in the story. And because she'll always be Collins to me.
What A Piece Of Work Is Man
"Morning," Maureen mumbled as she came out of the room she and Mark shared and joined Mark and Roger at the breakfast table. 'Breakfast' this morning consisting of black coffee and aspirins. She rubbed her eyes sleepily, and stole Mark's coffee mug, taking a deep swig. Her boyfriend looked vaguely irritated but didn't say anything as he stood up from the table and began searching through the cupboards for another clean mug.
"I'm never touching alcohol again," Maureen promised solemnly, staring into her coffee.
Roger began to laugh, but winced as the movement caused the pain in his head to start throbbing again. "I think I'm dying," he groaned and let his head rest on the table.
"Marky, how much money did I spend yesterday?" Maureen asked.
"You don't want to know," Mark said as he examined a mug he'd found in the sink. It didn't look too dirty, so he filled it with steaming hot coffee, inhaling the scent deeply.
"You're probably right," Maureen admitted, rubbing her temples. "I'll find out soon enough I guess."
Mark was swallowing a mouthful of coffee with another aspirin - even though he'd already had two more than recommended amount - when a question came to his mind.
"Hey, do you know where Collins went after the club last night?"
"What do you mean?" Maureen said. "He came back here about half an hour after us, I heard him."
Mark frowned. "Then where is he now? He's not in his room." He gestured towards a door that stood open and revealed an empty room.
"Bathroom?" Maureen suggested, for the moment more interested in keeping herself from throwing up than in Collins whereabouts.
"No." Roger's voice was muffled by the table. "I've been there all morning."
"Honey, are you sure you heard him last night?" Mark asked.
"Of course I am!" Maureen snapped. "I wasn't drunk enough to start hallucinating."
"Exactly how drunk do you have to be to start doing that?"
Mark, who was doing higher mathematics in his head, not an easy task while suffering from the mother of all hangovers, ignored Roger's question. "Okay, so Collins is not here in the kitchen, not in his room, not in our room, not in Roger's room and not in the bathroom," he pondered. "Then there's only one room left."
Even Roger found the energy to lift his head from the table, three pairs of eyes turning towards the remaining door.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Benny woke up. While trying to open his eyes he decided that whatever time it was it was way too early to be awake. When he turned around to get more comfortable, his elbow bumped into something. Something that felt remarkably like a body. Benny froze.
Fuck.
FUCK!
Who the hell had he managed to drag home this time? He didn't have the courage to actually look at the person next to him. God, he didn't even know if it was a man or a woman. Frantically he began sorting through the blurry memories of the night before, trying to find a clue as to whom he'd slept with. That tall blond guy in leather… No, he had passed out in the bathroom. What about that cute brown-haired girl, what was her name, Alana? Nah, she had disappeared with some guy named John. Funny, the only one he remembered talking to on the way home was Collins.
Fuck.
FUCK!
Benny swallowed hard before slowly turning his head. Yeah, it was Collins all right. Collins was lying in his bed. He took a quick peek under the covers. A very naked Collins was lying in his bed. Uh oh. The very naked Collins was moving. The very naked Collins was opening his eyes, and looking straight at Benny.
"Morning," the very naked Collins said, sounding pretty much like the ordinary Collins.
Benny relaxed slightly.
"Um, yeah, morning," he croaked.
Collins looked at him strangely. "Are you okay?"
"What?"
"Are you okay with this?"
"Eh…" Benny fidgeted. "What exactly is 'this'?"
"Oh," Collins said slowly. "You don't remember much about last night, do you?"
"Not really," Benny admitted, feeling a faint blush creeping over his face. "Did we, I mean did you, or did I…?"
"Benny," Collins interrupted with a tinge of hurt in his voice. "I have HIV. Do you really think I would put you in that kind of danger?"
"No," Benny said softly. "Of course you wouldn't. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Collins said, smiling devilishly. "And trust me, if we had done something, you'd definitely remember it."
Benny laughed, finally relaxing completely. "But the question remains," he said then. "What exactly is this?"
"Well, it could be a one night thing." Collins said, using his index finger to trace a pattern on Benny's upper arm. "Or we could turn it into something more."
"Do you want to?" Benny asked quietly.
"Hmm…" Collins thought about it. "Why not? We already know each other, so I know you're not some kind of freak. You're funny and smart. You're also good-looking and kind of sexy…"
"Hey!" Benny protested. "What do you mean, 'kind of sexy'?"
"Well, you are. You're sexy, but not sexy sexy, like… Roger, for example."
"Thanks a lot!"
"What? Like you can honestly say that you find me more sexy than Roger."
"Oh… I guess you're right. But it's hardly fair to compare anyone to him! He's not normal."
"He's drop dead gorgeous."
"He's hot."
"Yeah, that too."
"We're not gonna tell him that, right?"
"No way! He'd be unbearable."
They laughed.
"You're sexier than Mark, though," Collins offered.
Benny snorted. "Who isn't? Mark couldn't be sexy even if he tried. Which he doesn't."
"He's cute though."
"Very cute."
"Adorable."
"I still like you the best."
"I like you the best too."
They kissed. It wasn't one of those awkward first kisses. It wasn't filled with passion, or fire. They didn't see any stars, or hear fireworks. It was better. It felt like coming home.
To be continued…