Matt
I drove to uni the next day, but once I approached the campus, I made a U-turn and drove away. I had forced myself out of bed, mostly not to worry my parents, spent an hour under the shower without being able to feel clean, got dressed and left, my mother forcing a pancake in my mouth as I passed the doorframe to exit the apartment. I didn't feel like eating at all, nausea gaining me again as the hardly munched crepe slid in my throat.

I couldn't do it. Go sit in the amphiteatre and see him. He wouldn't probably dare to sit beside me, although I doubted he'd care about my personal space. Needless to say that my personal space had increased a lot since last night.
I headed downtown, parked and sat in a cafe, ordering an expresso.
I needed to get over what happened. I was still shocked, but I couldn't stand the way I felt, I needed to erase that feeling, it made me so sick, it was unbearable. Reasoning myself didn't work, not even after two hours and four expressos. All I won was a cafeine overdose, my fingers nervously tapping the table. And I wasn't supposed to spend money like this. My parents were kind enough to give me some money every week but I should rather spare it for something more valuable than coffee.

As I left the cafe, I had found a way to get over what Mihael had done to me. Driving back to the campus, I got out of my Camaro, rested my back on my car, in the parking lot, and waited.
Two cocky smiles and a wink later, I had what I wanted, and left for the gaming arcade. I didn't play, wanting to keep my money, but looking at others helped me to relax and spend the rest of the time I had before going home.
I left again after dinner, promising my parents I would be back before 2am (damn curfew!), and met my date a few minutes later in the parking of a disco.

But we never made it to the disco itself. Only my Camaro danced as I jumped the pretty chestnut haired student on the backseat. I was gentleman enough to drive her home, and it saved me the money for entering the disco and get a few drinks. All benefit.

I did exactly the same the next three days, but the chick eventually got tired of not getting inside of the disco and cancelled our date on the fourth day. Good. I was getting tired of fucking the same girl.

Not all the girls at uni were bitches, and fishing in the parking lot wasn't that easy after a while. I discovered that many thought I could be a regular boyfriend, when all I wanted was a hot time with them, so that couldn't work anymore, I had to find a new hunting field.
But I had plenty of time for that since I was skipping classes. So I finally found myself in a glaucous club the next afternoon.
It was suspicious from the beginning since I wasn't legal and got in freely, and that in the middle of the afternoon it was already crowded.
I quickly understood that as long as you pay for your drinks, expensive as they were, they just didn't give a fuck about your age. And the bartender looked high as shit.
My eyes never left her hands as she served me a beer, careful that she didn't slip something in my drink. Why was I here, I wondered.

The girls. I was quickly reminded that I was here for the girls, as one that I had kinda followed in here from a distance, finding her really hot, sat on the stool next to mine. No, I wasn't offering a drink, too expensive, babe.
She seemed unphased by my lack of drink offer, got herself some complicated cocktail, and began some small talk with the bartender.
Both were eyeing me and if I hadn't had some alcohol in my system, I would probably have worried.

The brunette on the nearby stool suddenly hopped off it and within seconds she was kissing my neck.
"I like them young..." she whispered in my ear, and from that close I could tell she was probaly thirty or something, and very pretty. I had no objection, even if she was now groping me in public, but I quickly noticed some other couples engaged in heated activities in the dark red velvety couches around. Very, very glaucous...

"I don't have money." I decided to tell her, suspecting she was a professional. She opened wide eyes then laughed out loud.
"All I care for is that you have a dick, actually." she licked my earshell and nipped at the lobe lightly, "Young guys have more stamina..."
The bartender was smiling suggestively at the sight of us, and she waved at some guy in the background. The guy, a large italian looking one, took her place behind the counter, and she headed for a backdoor.
Soon, the woman that was all over me pushed me gently off my stool and to the door, in the bartender's footsteps. The door slammed behind her and I freaked out, which both saw very obviously, as I discovered I was locked with two older women in a stockroom.
"Hey, easy hun, that's just my girlfriend, we're only here for a good time... not in for two pussies?"

Heh. Threesome? Kinky...
My dick was more than agreeing, actually, and the alcohol (I wasn't used to it at all, thus the quick effect on me) did the rest.
I found myself half sat on a Smirnoff vodka stock being sucked off by the bartender while I was kissing (well, she was more sort of slobbering me all over) her girlfriend. In a matter of minutes, I was taking the brunette doggystyle while she was nested head first between the bartender's legs.
I don't know how many times they switched until I splattered the bartender's boobs when I came, but fuck, it was an experience I wouldn't forget, especially when the other licked my cum off her girlfriend's breasts and they finished each other in a hot sixty nine, one giving me a handjob at the same time.
I came down from my high, looking at the two women get dressed.
"Come back anytime cutie, we're here almost everyday." the bartender winked at me before we exited the stockroom. No one among the present customers seemed surprised or gave us a look, although I'm pretty sure they hadn't missed the loud moans emitted by the two women a few minutes earlier.

It's only when I sat back in my car when I left the place that I realised how stupid I had been.
Coming in the less recommended area of the city, entering a bar that I had known was glaucous at the sole sight of the façade, ordering alcohol although I knew I couldn't stand it, taking the risk of it getting spiked, and then having sex with two perfect strangers without condom.
I always used condoms. Now at best I'd have some curable STD, if I didn't end up with AIDS. And I had spent ten bucks on a beer, great. Oh wait, I didn't even pay (unless you consider I paid with my person...).

The things Mihael made me do... all of this was driving me insane, I had to stop it. And I had to have an AIDS test done on me later. Fantastic.

The next day, I was back at uni, praying not to meet him.

Mello
I wondered if Mail had just skipped uni the first day, but began to worry he would never come back after almost one week of not seeing him, not even when I stalked to the classes he had without me, that he could have attended if he didn't want to see me since I wasn't taking them.
I knew where he lived and had decided I would walk there the next week if I didn't see him until then. I knew I had fucked things up, but without meeting him, there was no way I could bring him to get over this stupid joke. What a drama for almost nothing! (And he had enjoyed it, for fuck's sake!)

So when I saw him enter the amphiteatre after a few days, I knew I had a chance to get things back to normal.
He sat as far as me as he could, and although he didn't look at me once, not even when he came in, it told me he had seen me. I would have to catch him at the end of the lesson.

When the two hours ended, I had to hurry because Mail obviously wanted to run away as fast as he could, and he was already heading for the parking lot when I exited the building.
I ran to catch up with his steady pace, but he ignored me, although I was sure he could hear the sound of my boots beating the pavement behind him. That wasn't gonna be easy. He sat in his car and roared it to life.
But I was faster this time, pulling the driver's door open (I would have opened the passenger's door to sit beside him but it was probably locked since it was an old car and it didn't have an automatic opening system).

"Hey! Get away!" he yelled at me, trying to pull the door back closed, but I was in the way.
"Not before we talk."
"I don't have anything to tell you, now leave me alone, I don't want to see you again, 'kay?" he snarled and fought some more against my grip on the door, but I entered head first in his car, crawling on all four past him to sit at the passenger's place.
"Mihael!" he screamed, as my knee dangerously brushed his crotch, "Get the fuck out!"
But it was too late, and somehow, he knew it, as he looked at me, desperately sighing.

I smirked, but he shook his head.
"Why can I never win against you? Why do you always do only what you want? Damnit Mihael, what the hell makes you think you can treat people like you do?" he was now rubbing his temples, "People have feelings you know, they're not all heartless like you..."
"I'm not like that..." I began, but he cut me off.
"Oh yeah? Do you feel anything else than self satisfaction? Do you even care about anyone else than you? I doubt it Mihael, I highly doubt it! You raped me damnit! You didn't have the right to do that on the sole purpose of winning a fucking bet! What would you do if, I don't know, Layla had sucked you off when you thought she was a guy? Hmm, maybe you are bi so it doesn't even count..."
"I'm not..."
"Whatever, you didn't have the right! All this fucking lost time to try to understand you, all this internet shit I read, that's just bullshit! You're a sick perv, that's all you are!"
I let him yell everything he wanted, taking the blow of words until it drained out, thinking he would calm down after that. But he went on and on, and the neverending rant sank into me, leaving an insidious feeling in its tracks. A feeling foreign to me, and very unpleasant on top of that. Regret.

The more he talked, the more it appeared to me that what I had done had gone beyond a simple joke. Not that I hadn't already understood that he hadn't found it funny, but now I was understanding that he felt hurt. The use of the 'rape' word for the second time was revealing the depth of the wound. Damn, I had really fucked up... and slowly it occured to me that he wouldn't just get over it by a snap of fingers.
I didn't want to admit it, but I guess I had made a huge mistake...

I looked at him, ready to say that I was sorry (although I was pretty aware that the S word wouldn't be enough, but that was a place to start), but my voice didn't come out. He was looking back at me, and the still very theorical knowledge of the hurt I had inflincted to him became suddenly as painful to me as if made with a burning iron. I was feeling, all at the same time, butterflies and needles in my stomach.

"Why?" he murmured, his anger now gone, "Can you at least give me a reason for what you did?"
I was still staring at him, unable to utter a single word under those eyes.
"I need a reason Mihael. I want to believe that it was not just a disgusting random act, that you didn't lie to me until now, because right now I'm letting you beside me although I should kick you out of my car, and I don't even know what is making me want to find you excuses."
That was it. The very precise thing that had made me fall for him, the genuine interest, the sincerity, the heart under the cocky attitude.
I felt even worse now, because no matter how bad what I did was, Mail was still ready to hear me.
And what else could I have answered than: "I'm in love with you."