Ken didn't emerge from his room until late Sunday morning. He had laid awake for a long while, but couldn't seem to work up the courage to face Davis.
When he finally felt it ridiculous enough to hide any longer, he walked out to the kitchen but froze in the doorway because there at the table sat Davis, greeting him with an easy smile.
"Morning! Geez, you slept in late," he said, not a falter in his cheery tone. "I made tea."
Ken stared at him for a second, a bit slack jawed in surprise. "Thanks," he managed to stammer.
He poured a large cup for himself and cautiously took a seat at the table.
"You okay? You look more pale than usual," Davis said, eyeing him questioningly.
Ken took a small sip of tea, willing his hand not to shake as he white-knuckled the cup.
"I'm fine," he said with all the faux confidance he could muster.
"At least one of us is," Davis sighed. "I drank way too much last night."
Now Ken could barely keep his trembling in check. "Oh?"
Davis took a long swig of tea. "Yeah. Last night is blank. I hardly remember anything. We played some kind of game, right?"
So he didn't remember. He had no recollection of their encounter on the couch. Ken couldn't decide if he was relieved or devastated.
Ken swallowed down the lump in his throat. "Um... yeah. You really don't remember anything?"
Davis kneaded his fingertips against his temple. "Nah, it's all pretty much a blur."
"Oh" was all Ken could say. It turned out he was more devastated than he thought he would be. "Excuse me," he said, discreetly biting the inside of his lip, leaving the table and heading back to his room.
Once he was gone, Davis dropped his forehead against the table, fingers laced at the back of his neck, and sighed.
. . . .
Monday couldn't have arrived sooner. Ken was grateful for classes again just so he could be out of the apartment.
He returned home every night, immediately holing up in his room under the guise of needing to study for an upcoming exam in order to avoid Davis. It was cowardly to be sure, but he wasn't questioning it.
Ken came home Friday night, a bit earlier than usual, to a surprisingly quiet apartment. Davis was lounging on the sofa watching tv.
He turned his head toward the door as he walked in. "Hey."
"Hey," Ken replied, stuck in his position just inside the door.
"Is everything okay?" Davis asked, pulling his legs off the cushion and facing Ken fully.
Ken gulped. "Yeah, it's fine."
Davis narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You sure?"
His entire body started to tense. "I said it's fine."
Davis exhaled a soft sigh through his nose. "Listen, I --" he began, but was interrupted by a knocking at the door.
Since Ken hadn't yet moved, he turned around and opened the door.
A pretty girl with shoulder-length violet hair stood on the other side. She didn't even get a word out before Davis was off the couch, whizzing past Ken and grabbing her by the hand. She flashed him a small smile as she was pulled past toward Davis' room.
Ken was left alone in stunned silence.
Maybe Davis really didn't remember kissing him last weekend. Or maybe he did, just to see if he could, and was back to his regular schedule of conquests.
Neither option sat well with Ken. He dragged his backpack into his room, shutting the door hard.
He could hear their performance from where he lay on his side in bed, clutching his pillow.
In the other bedroom, Davis was arched over the girl as he thrust into her. With closed eyes, all he could envision was Ken beneath him.
He slid his hands under her bent knees, raising her legs to wrap around his waist.
In his mind's eye, he pictured Ken as if he was the one panting in ecstacy beneath him, whispering his name, nails raking down his back.
His moaning grew louder, bellowing from his chest as he thrust into her, into Ken, more, harder, yes, God yes. Ken.
His hips gave a great shudder, a deep groan rising from his throat as he came hard.
Ken let some time pass after the bedroom noises stopped before leaving his room to wander to the kitchen. He dragged his feet, languidly setting about making tea.
He brought his cup to the table and sat, hunched dejectedly, forehead in his hand.
It wasn't long until he began hearing muffled but raised voices. It sounded like Davis and the girl were bickering.
He heard the girl hiss something, followed by the yanking open of Davis' bedroom door. Hard, quick footfalls were coming his way.
Ken saw the girl stomp past, tugging on the hem of her sweater, Davis at her heels.
The front door ripped open. The girl angrily called Davis a jerk before he slammed the door shut after her.
Whether Davis noticed him sitting there or not he didn't know, as he just skulked past the doorway, not saying a word.
He soon heard the noise of the shower turning on.
In the time it took Ken to boil more water and drink a second cup of tea, Davis was still in the shower. He considered knocking on the door and checking on him, but just as the thought arose, the water shut off. Still, it took him a long while to actually exit the bathroom.
Ken took his empty cup to the sink and stood for a minute, staring at the wall. He was vaguely curious about the arguement between Davis and the girl. He assumed Davis had instigated it, said something too crass, made a move she disliked.
His breath hitched in his throat as he heard Davis' footsteps approaching down the hall, stopping in the doorway. He lingered there for a few tense moments, not saying a word.
Ken gripped the edge of the sink, unable to leave without being seen. He could hear Davis breathing behind him.
He heard a heavy sigh and Davis walked off back to his room, closing the door quietly.
Ken released the breath he had been unconsciously holding.
A few hours later as Ken lay awake in bed, a barely audible knocking was upon his door. Davis hadn't waited for an invitation before cautiously pushing it open and stepping inside.
Ken, on his side facing the wall, felt weight upon the bed, and said nothing as Davis settled behind him.
For a long while, the only sound in the room was their breathing.
"You're upset. You've been avoiding me," Davis whispered hoarsely. He gripped his fingers gently around Ken's shoulder. "I'm sorry."
Ken said nothing, didn't know what to say. To explain his pain meant revealing what had happened between them, what Davis didn't remember, which would lead Ken to confessing his feelings, which could ruin everything, causing the person he loved the most to vanish. He couldn't bear that. Hiding, denying, burying it would at least keep Davis around.
Davis began slowly rubbing his hand up and down Ken's arm, a soothing gesture, and rested his chin on Ken's shoulder.
But being so close, he couldn't resist the temptation. He pressed his lips softly, tentatively, against the side of Ken's neck, listening, feeling for his reaction before doing it again.
Ken rolled onto his back and looked up at Davis' face hovering above for a few long moments before he brought his lips down upon his.
Davis' kiss was tender yet desperate, needy, longing, and Ken accepted it eagerly like the fool he was. He couldn't will his heart nor body to not give in to Davis.
But, as always, as soon as rationale had found a crack to seep into, Ken snapped out of the spell.
With a palm against Davis' chest, he pushed him away. His eyes glistened with threatening tears.
"Why are you doing this to me?" he pled, painful confusion distorting his features.
Davis, eyes widened with panic, shook his head gently.
Ken sat up. "Why are you toying with me? Just to see if you can?"
"Ken, no, listen..." Davis muttered sadly.
Cutting him off, Ken continued angrily. "You don't remember, but... last weekend, you kissed me. We kissed, you forgot, then it was back to business as usual for you with yet another girl." The cat was out of the bag now, so come what may.
"Please, Ken," Davis begged softly, a hand outstretched toward him.
"Why, Davis? Why are you doing this?" he choked, willing his tears not to spill.
Davis had squeezed his eyes shut against the admonition.
"I do remember," he muttered.
Ken balked. "Why did you pretend that you didn't?"
"Because I didn't want to admit what it meant!" Davis' confession hurtling from him loudly. "Of course I remember it! I wanted it!"
"And what did it mean?" Ken's heart was pounding painfully.
"That I... wanted my best friend." Davis hung his head in defeat. "That it was the most amazing kiss because it was with you. And that I couldn't stop thinking about it."
"But I tried. I've been trying for so long."
Ken looked at him with furrowed brows, chin trembling. "What are you saying?"
Davis couldn't stop himself from spewing the truths he had kept locked away for years. "I'm saying I... I want to be with you, Ken. And not just as your best friend." He scrubbed a palm down his face.
"Those girls didn't mean anything. I was trying to get you out of my system. I didn't want to admit I was in love with my best guy friend. So yeah, I'm a dog. I know."
"Davis, I..." Ken began, but was rendered speechless. So many conflicting emotions were running through him wildly that he couldn't articulate a single thought.
"I know this screws everything up. I'm sorry. That night, I finally got the courage to make a move, but I was still too much of a coward to tell you how I really felt."
Suddenly, a panic seized Davis' chest. He reached for Ken's hand. "Please don't leave. I'm sorry. Just... forget I said anything. Please. I'll, I don't know, I'll make it go away somehow."
Ken held onto his hand, his tears finally falling.
"Stop. Davis, stop," he cried.
Davis' finally looked up at him, his own eyes welled with tears, face mottled red.
"I love you," Ken choked.
"What?" Davis balked, wiping the back of his free hand across his eyes.
"I've loved you for so long. I never thought there would even be the slightest chance you felt the same," Ken confessed, stammering through the tears.
"How could I? With all the girls you had here, and I couldn't risk losing you, so I kept it to myself."
Davis uttered a soft chuckle in disbelief. He quickly scooted closer to Ken, and with his thumb wiped the stream of tears from his cheek.
"All this time," Davis whispered. "God, I'm so stupid."
Ken sniffed, letting a chuckle fly from his throat. It made Davis laugh. Then they both were laughing; at the absurdity of it, how they were both so oblivious, at the freedom of confessing, how happy they felt the same for each other.
Davis placed his hands on Ken's cheeks, pulling him close to join their lips.
Ken welcomed it fully and completely. His hands were on Davis' neck, his shoulders, their lips never parting.
Davis struggled to keep his composure. At last, the moment he had dreamt of was here, actually here, and all the pent-up angst and longing could be released and he could barely contain the frenzy whirring inside himself.
It took tremendous restraint not to ravish Ken right then and there. But Davis knew his best friend well enough to act more delicately.
Between kisses, they both began to shed their clothing. After each article was removed, tossed in heaps on the floor, they reunited their lips, hands roving over all the newly bared skin.
Davis guided Ken onto his back, settling his weight between his legs and forearms while he straddled him, pressing his lips softly to the side of Ken's neck.
Every touch of his skin, each pleased sigh in reaction was a revelation. Davis ran his fingertips over the knob of his shoulder, the plane of his taut chest and the firm expanse of belly, parting his lips from him in order to watch as he gripped his hand around Ken's arousal.
Davis' gift for the gesture was a small, sudden gasp from Ken and a wrapping of his arms around his back.
His lips returned to Ken's neck as he pumped his hand slowly around him. It was the perfect position to receive the responding breathy moans directly in his ear.
But Davis could no longer withstand the unfulfilled torment. His lips and hands paused long enough to outfit, slicken and position himself.
"Tell me you're ready. I've waited so long," Davis begged, whispering into Ken's ear.
"Yes," Ken whispered.
As Davis slipped minutely inside him, he returned again to his mouth, distracting any momentary discomfort with his kisses. The further in he slid, the tighter Ken's fingers were against Davis' back.
Once fully enveloped and beginning to slowly slide in and out, Davis watched as the pleasure began rolling over Ken in waves, neck craning back, chest arcing off the bed, fingers dug into his back, thighs clamped against his hips. It sent Davis into absolute ecstacy, a deep moan bellowing from his throat.
He filled him slow and deep and he was alight with sensations he had never felt before. More than his own pleasure, which was otherworldly, that he was pleasing the person he loved amplified the experience a hundredfold.
Davis sought out Ken's hands, lacing their fingers together and stretching their arms, resting them beside Ken's head. For a moment, Ken's eyes opened and they locked gazes. It nearly pushed Davis over the precipice, watching Ken rock beneath him to his thrusting rhythm, cheeks flushed, lips parted. It was an even more enticing sight than he had fantasized.
Ken knew Davis was no novice at intimacy, but every surge of blood through his veins, each tingle of nerve endings, the tightening of every muscle, all of it was brand new to him and it was incomparable to anything he had ever felt before.
As every inch of his body, inside and out, had been stimulated to its limit, Ken squeezed tightly onto Davis hands, letting the wave overtake him as he arched off the bed.
His moan, the beautiful sound of him finally letting go, sent Davis over the edge. He leaned down, face in the crook of Ken's craned neck while his hips spasmed and he groaned in completion.
Davis, breathing heavily from the exertion, lifted himself up to gaze down at Ken. He looked thoroughly flustered, a touch bewildered, but not unhappy. Davis bent his head down to kiss his parted lips. The gesture was tender, reassuring. Ken had meanwhile placed both his hands on Davis' cheeks, kissing back languidly before Davis slid from him and dropped himself beside him.
Davis rested on his side, sprawling an arm across Ken's middle as their heads shared a pillow.
Ken stayed on his back, a bit too overwhelmed to move just then. But he did turn his head to look at Davis.
"How do you feel?" he asked shyly.
Davis exhaled a large, contemplative sigh, a small lazy smile pulling at his lips. "Amazing. Like my wishes all came true."
Ken smiled, though he tilted his head as if he was being teased.
"I mean it!" Davis laughed, gliding his palm lightly against Ken's chest, his shoulder, his neck and back again. "I've wanted this forever and it was..." he trailed off, pausing to give a sincere kiss to Ken's jaw, " ... everything I thought it would be and more."
Ken offered a wider smile, lazily dragging his fingers through Davis' mussed burgundy hair.
"What about you?" Davis asked softly. He didn't want to stop kissing Ken, touching him, but didn't want to be distracted from Ken's answer.
It took him a long moment to respond. Ever the thoughtful one, he pondered on the question thoroughly.
"I feel... like I'm dreaming," he said with a tiny smile.
As if to affirm their real-world presence, Davis kissed Ken's lips again softly, fingers raking through the cropped hair at his temple.
"Dreaming about it didn't come close to the real thing. And trust me, I dreamt about it a lot," Davis admittedly freely.
Ken's cheeks lit up, but he smiled softly. "What happens now?"
Davis sighed thoughtfully, propping himself up, cheek in his palm. He looked down at Ken happily.
"Well, now we date," he said quite confidently, matter-of-factly.
Ken widened his eyes in cheeky surprise and scoffed playfully.
"You? Date?"
Davis lolled his head back. "Crazy, I know."
He slid himself back down closer to Ken, brushing the tips of his fingers through the hair at his forehead.
"Maybe I never did before 'cause I was waiting for you."
Ken was touched, surprised to see this sentimental, romantic side of his best friend. He reached a hand to gently caress his fingertips across Davis' cheek, who in turn leaned down to join their lips.
Once parted, Ken looked at Davis with a serious expression.
"Do we tell the others?"