Just Couldn't Help Myself

Crowe here, saying hi again! w00t, I'm a writing machine! Now, this chapter is a little different... and finally a reason for a tag! YAY!

so, CODES: M/M (eff yes!) and language.

Enjoy, please, and let me know what you think!
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“Are you crazy?”

“Yes.” I looked over at Lonnie, who was sitting on the edge of the tub watching me shave. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re going on a date.”

“It’s not a date.”

Lonnie sighed. “You aren’t behaving properly.” the cat told me. “You saw yourself in an alley, and that other you warned you to stay away from the devil, and left a talking cat to watch out for you, and you’re going out on dates. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh, where to start.” I said wistfully, and Lonnie snorted. “I have an appointment with Dr. Shrift on Monday, and when I tell him everything that’s going on, I’ll get pills to make me sane again and you’ll disappear.”

“I’m not a figment of your imagination.” Lonnie reminded me.

“No, but you’ll stop talking, and then I can drop your flea-infested ass off at the pound.”

“I don’t have fleas, and I will not go to the pound. I’ll claw your eyes out if you even try.” the cat sighed. “And all the drugs in the world won’t make me stop talking, because you aren’t crazy. This is real, and I’m real, and the devil-”

“I’ve already heard all of this.”

“Then why don’t you care?” the cat retorted.

“Because it’s all bullshit.” I said matter-of-factly, rinsing excess shaving cream off my face. “You don’t really talk, I didn’t really see myself in that alley, and there is no devil.”

“Johnny, please-”

“No.” I said firmly. “There’s no point in me getting worked up about something that isn’t real. I’ll get pills and everything will be okay again. Until then, I’m going to pretend it’s okay.”

“That’s delusional.”

“No, that’s rational. And it’s also my only choice. Now shut the hell up, will you? I’ve got less than half an hour to finish getting ready.”

“I think I should go with you.” Lonnie said. “Just in case.”

I turned and glared at the cat. “I’m going to make this perfectly clear, so that there’s no confusion whatsoever. If you follow me, so help me fucking God I will find the biggest, meanest dog in the city and feed you to him tail first.” I crouched down and got nose to nose with the cat. “You getting me, pussy cat?”

“I’m concerned that you’ll-”

“Okay.” I straightened, turned, was out of the bathroom so fast that the cat had no time to react. I slammed the door behind me. A split second later I heard nails on wood. “Sorry about this, kitty.” I said though the door. “You’ll stay in there until I get home.”

“You little fucker!” Lonnie shouted. “Open this door or I’m going to-”

“Oh, the joys of pet owning.” I mumbled, and went into my room to change. I put on my good blue jeans, a short sleeved blue and grey striped dress shirt, and grabbed my black hoodie on the way out.

Murphy was sitting on one of the low benches by the window in the lobby, his tousled ginger head bowed over his lap, his hands cupped near his face. Curious and a little confused, I walked over to him, sat down, and ask what he was doing.

He sat up so quickly he startled me, and then both of us burst out laughing. “You scared me.” he said, and I apologized and asked what he had. He held his cupped hands out. “Mantis.” he said, and I stared at the long, brown bug on the palm of his hand.

“That’s… gross.” I said, and he chuckled. “Not a bug fan.”

He shrugged and stood up. “He was on the door this morning. Are you ready to go?”

I nodded and stood up as well, and as he turned I gave him a quick appraising once-over. He was wearing blue jeans too, very dark, and a black tee shirt with a bright yellow and red cartoonized octopus on the front. He had red sneakers on too, which made me smile.

We went outside together, him with his mantis, and I steered us up the street, telling him I thought we’d get lunch first. He agreed to this, and I suggested a few different places. We discussed as we walked, and agreed on keeping it simple, so I lead him to a sandwich place I loved near my bank.

He found a place for his bug; some bushes in an overgrown vacant lot, and when his hands were free he stuffed them in his pockets and we continued on our way. We talked a lot; though we differed on lots of things, he seemed perfectly content with our opinions not matching up, and asked a lot of questions, both about me and the city. He told me he was an art student, and that he had volunteered at anima shelters in the past, but he was looking for paying work and had found a position open at the humane society.

When we got to the sandwich shop, we ordered; I myself got a chicken Caesar wrap and a root beer, and Murphy ordered a classic, which I explained to him was sort of like an Italian. He also got a cup of coffee. We took our sandwiches out onto the shop’s patio and sat at a table with an umbrella.

As we ate, we talked about more important things than movies and books and music. He asked the last time I’d gone out with someone, which brought up the discussion about what our particular outing was. I liked his answer He smiled, took a sip of his coffee, and with a tiny shrug informed me, “I’ll categorize this as whatever you want it to be, Johnny.” He asked about my family, and showed the proper amount of condolences over my parents without pitying me, which I liked too. He asked if I was religious, then.

I tensed, my sandwich halfway to my mouth, and sighed. I set the food aside and took a long drink before answering, “I have no idea how I feel about religion right now.” when he simply nodded and kept watching me, I said, “It’s never mattered before, but lately it seems to be a big deal. I’m still figuring it out.”

“It’s understandable.” he said. “I personally don’t really trust anyone who claims they’re fully in touch with their chosen religious figurehead. The idea that humans could understand God is ridiculous.”

I rose an eyebrow. “How so?” I asked.

He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed and swallowed, looking thoughtful. “Well,” he said, after his mouth was empty. “If you accept the idea of God, that he created everything, then it would stand to reason that this being is so huge, so powerful, that our tiny little human brains couldn’t even comprehend it. I think people who claim they know God are arrogant. Humans don’t understand themselves, why could we understand our creator?”

I liked that point of view, and when he smiled at me again, that big, dimpled, perfect toothed smile, I realized I liked him a lot. It both bothered me and made me feel good. It’d been a long time since I felt attracted to someone, and after the last couple of days, this moment seemed so normal, so not crazy, that I felt a little lightheaded with the change of pace.

“Are you okay?” Murphy asked, and leaned forward to touch my hand where it laid next to my bottle of root beer. “You look a little lost. Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” I said, and when he moved to pull his hand back, I caught his fingers in mine and gave them a tiny squeeze. “Nothing’s wrong at all.”

We finished eating, and he asked me where certain things were closest to our building. Grocery store, his particular bank, movie theatre, bookstore, that kind of thing. We walked past the closer ones, and we kept talking, although now I was way more aware of him beside me. I watched him out of the corner of my eyes; the long, graceful movement of him, the straightness of his back and shoulders, the easy laughter, how closely he walked beside me. He was probably three inches shorter than me, slender but not as skinny as I was. He seemed so comfortable with himself, so confident without being arrogant. Eventually we started talking about his art, and those deep, cheerful eyes got so passionate, so full of light, that it nearly took my breath away. He was a sculptor, he told me, and had rented half of a flat for his work; the other half belonged to a painter. He said her name was Valerie, but everyone called her Bunny.

“She reminds me of you, a little. Very quiet, very nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.” I told him, and he quirked an eyebrow at me. “Okay, I’m a little nervous.” I admitted, and he chuckled. “Things have been weird lately, that’s all.”

He nodded. “I like your nervousness.” he told me, and I shook my head. “Makes it seem like you need protecting. It’s sweet.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I said, and he laughed. “You said you lived elsewhere before Boston?”

He nodded. “I was born, originally, in Donegal.” when I looked confused, he said, “Ireland. But my mother moved here before I was three. I’ve lived all over the place, but we settled in Michigan with a boyfriend of hers for most of my high school years.” he shrugged. “I forget all the places I’ve lived. It’s hard to it all straight.”

“Are you liking it here so far?” I asked.

He nodded. “Mostly, yea.” he grinned. “I like my apartment, and my studio, and Bunny’s sweet. Plus I’ve got a few friends in the city, and there’s this super hot blond in my building.”

I flushed at the compliment, and he poked in the cheek with the tip of one finger. “Cute.” he remarked.

“If you have friends in the city, why didn’t you ask them to show you around?”

He dropped his hand. “Well, for one, they live on the other side of the city. Two, it seemed like a pretty good excuse to spend a day with you.”

When we got back to our building, we stopped in front of my door. “I… this was nice.” I told him, and he nodded. “Do you want to come in?”

He shook his head. “I’ve got to feed Cupcake and head out to my studio. We were gone later than I expected us to be.”

“Sorry.” I murmured, and he laughed.

“Don’t be. It was great.” he tilted his head and took a step towards me. “We should do it again.”

I nodded. “That would be… nice.” I said, feeling lame. He closeness, which had been constant but not consuming, suddenly seemed almost oppressive. It wasn’t just that he was in my space, but it seemed like I couldn’t even breathe. “Murphy…” I said quietly, and it was the first time I’d said his name out loud. It came out on an exhale of breath, and it made him grin.

“So what was it?” he asked. “Friends? A date?”

My back was against my apartment door, and somehow he seemed to loom over me, even though he was shorter. “I don’t know.” I told him.

He nodded slightly. “When you decide, let me know.” he told me, and then his hand slipped along my jaw into my hair and he was pulling me down to meet his mouth. His lips were soft, damp, and warm, working gently against mine, like he had all the time in the world. I parted my lips out of reflex when I felt his tongue, and the barely there flicker against my own made me feel overheated and weak kneed.

He pulled away, flashed me one of those huge dimpled smiles, and went on his way, leaving me against my door with my breath caught in my throat and my mouth tingling.

Finally, I pulled myself together and went inside. I let Lonnie out of the bathroom, and wasn’t surprised that it’d destroyed everything it could in there. My towels had holes in them, it’d torn my shower curtain down, everything was knocked off of the shelves. I couldn’t even be mad at the damn cat, though. I just went into my room, sat on my bed, and replayed that kiss.

Lonnie leapt up beside me and curled it’s tail around it’s paws. “Did you learn your lesson?” it asked me.

“Don’t lock you in the bathroom.” I said offhandedly.

“Good.” it jumped down and sauntered away. “What’s for dinner?” it called over it’s shoulder.