What We Didn't Do

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to update!
Here you go!
Oh and a special thanks to MikuyuSado for pointing out my mistake in hcpater nine....I have actually amended that now, so thank you!
Review PLEASE!!!!!!!

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I sit on my kitchen counter. Not like, butt on counter, legs dangling down, but wrapped up Indian style, with my laptop in front of me so I can work.

Not always comfortable but we all have our little quirks.

I was getting lost in a new book. Not to the extent that I was actually enjoying it, but the punctuation was frightening me a little bit. What can I say? Gay and and editor - most definately anal.

My ears jerked at the sound of the door but I tried to keep focusing on the paragraph in front of me. Who wrote it again? Oh yeah, Tony Harts...I'd have to have a long conversation with the guy.

"You sit on your countertop?" Alex asked, swinging a plastic bag by his knees.

"Yup, bad habit."

"Crazy. Doesn't your ass go numb?"

"Yup, all the time."

"I brought chinese."

My legs kicked into action and I slid off the counter, careful to keep my laptop safe. He smiled, blushing.

He blushed a lot. I mean not a lot, not all the time, but enough for it to be noticeable. Damn he was cute.

"Damn you're cute." I pulled him close and kissed his lips softly.

Yeah, I know, crazy huh? One minute I'm trying to run away from the guy, next thing I'm treating him like a princess. But I'd decided in the few short hours we'd been apart that I was going to be more affectionate. After all, if I was going to help him get over the past I'd have to help him get used to the present. I had nominated myself the present.

And he didn't seem like he minded.

Cheeky dick stuck his tongue in my mouth and filled me with thick flavour. He'd had a cigarette on the way over.

"You hungry?" he whispered as we pulled away from each other.

"Starving."

"I couldn't be fucked to cook, there was nothing in the fridge."

"It's ok."

Man I wanted him. But no, I had to be good. Good Rafe...wait.

He pulled out the boxes and placed them where my ass had been resting only a few moments before. He'd brought all the classics, not sure what my tastes were. Honestly, he must have spent a fucking fortune on the stuff and I secretly vowed to slip him a couple of dollars to help him with it.

"Hope you got forks." He grinned.

"Got better than that."

I pulled out unused chopstickes and threw him a set.

**

We ate on the floor.

It started well, we just talked about nothing. Mainly the novels I'd been working on. He said a couple of things about his own work but he wanted to know more about me.

Then he asked about my family.

Then I mentioned Andy.

Then I got angry.

"He thinks he can just walk into the whole damned thing like he gives a shit. I mean, this is the guy who said that he might not be able to come to the funeral 'coz he might have something more important going on. I mean what?! And now he wants me to make some sentimental speech about how it's scarred me for life? He can suck my dick for all I care."

Alex looked a little scared. I was shouting a bit loudly, but who cared? Not me. My brother was a jerk.

"I'm sure he means well," Alex spoke softly, cautiously. "I mean, maybe this is a kind of sorry for the past."

"No, it's run up to being President of the Who-Gives-A-Fuck society. He's just lapping up the attention from all those rich old ladies he can be photographed with. 'Oh look at me and how concerned I am about fags in the community, look how terrible my life has been'. It's not got anything to do with caring."

"And what about you? Don't you care?"

To say I was taken aback would be accurate. I stared at him for a minute.

"Care about what?"

"Rafe," He scooted round on the carpet to sit next to me. "Maybe you should do it. Not for your brother but for you. Sure, he sounds like an asshole and he's doing it for his own personal stuff, but what about you? You're such an angry person. I mean, you're the only guy I know who openly admits to hating themselves. Maybe you should explain that to people. You may be the only one to say it out loud, but I know you aren't the only one to feel it. People forget how hard it is to be...well, sick these days. It might help someone. It might help you."

"Help me?"

"Yeah. Help you let go. Help you get rid of all this anger and tension you have."

I blinked a few times, clearing my head.

"You're trying to make me cry again aren't you?"

He shook his head and smiled a little.

"Not really. But I am trying to help. This doesn't have to be about your brother. Make it about the people he's allegedly trying to help."

I processed the information.

Damn the guy had a point.

I'd spent so much time being pissed about him I missed the point I could make, myself.

"I'm not agreeing to anything," I sighed heavily. "But I'll talk to him."

"Good. I think it's a good idea. It might just give you a little bit of closure about Pip."

It was strange hearing my brother's name spoken by the man beside me. I liked that he could talk to me about it. I liked that the fact I had a dead relative wasn't something to hide from. Hell, I liked him.

"And anyway," he continued, resting his head on my shoulder. "I'll help you out with it, we can write it together if you - "

"I still haven't said yes."

"But if you do, I'll help." His lips nipped at my ear suddenly. "Would you like me to stay tonight?"

Shit, hard again. Never mind me, he needed to learn some control or I was gunna do something.

"Please."

We ate some more and then retired, an unspoken calmness between us. We undressed seperately, glancing over to each other and then climbed under the covers. We kissed goodnight, chastely, sweetly, our fingers briefly touching.

"I have to leave early in the morning," he whispered, curling himself into my arms.

"That's ok."

"But I can come straight here after work."

"I'd like that." I savoured his scent a little while longer and then relaxed. "I'll call him tomorrow, sort everything out."

I felt him grin against my chest, "Good."

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