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My friend of misery

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Dave has done a lot of crazy shit since we kicked him out of the band. But this time he really crossed the line. After the release of our first album Kill em all, the label organized an aftershow party for the whole band. I was surprised to not find him here, to be honest. Judging by all the hate mail I've been receiving since the album came out, I was almost certain that he'd crash that party. Fortunately, he didn't.

Hell, I don't even know what it is that he's so mad about. He did all of this to himself and even after he fucked us over and over again, we still had the decency to credit him for the songs he wrote. I mean, we're not the bad guys here... right?

Dave is the crazy one for sending us death threats and breaking into our apartments, only to steal all the toilet paper or to take the bread out of the fridge.

Is this what having a stalker feels like? Or am I just paranoid and all of this is nothing but a weird coincidence?

Maybe he hadn't even been doing any of this. Maybe he had just moved on with his life and didn't even think of us anymore. After all, he has a new band now... Megadeath, or something like that.

But no, Dave doesn't work like that. And I should've known it.

 

Once I came back to my hotel room from the aftershow party - a bit tipsy, if I'm being honest - I saw that the lights in the bathroom were switched on. At first, I just blamed it on myself. To be fair, I am quite forgetful and leave the lights on all the time. I usually leave my clothes on the floor too, so that trail that led to the bathroom didn't alarm me either. At least not until I noticed that those weren't my clothes.

I followed the line of discarded menswear and ended up at the bathroom door. It was slightly open and the yellowish light was flooding into the bedroom as I opened it. Looking in, I was presented with what turned out to be a fucking nightmare.

 

Dave was naked and relaxing in my bathtub as if that was the most normal thing. As if he hadn't broken into my hotel room to get in there.

The water was steaming hot and left the room filled with a thick fog. But even though it my vision was blurred by the misty air, I could still see him ever so clearly. I saw the outline of his slim legs that were sticking out of the water, saw how his long orange curls hung over the edge of the tub and then... that smile on his face. That fucking smile.

 

"Hey...", he cooed, taking one hand out of the water to stretch it out toward me.

 

The temptation to just to just lock him in there and call the cops was growing but it never became strong enough to move me to do it. God, I've heard horror stories about stalkers before. That they break into your place, put on your clothes, sleep in your bed. And although Dave wasn't in my bed and also not wearing my clothes - or any clothes for that matter - he was basically just that.

A stalker.

And still... There was something about him that made him so desirable to me. I don't know if it was the way his long fingers moved ever so slightly to convince me to touch them, or if it was how his slim legs slid against one another as he gently shifted in the tub.

The sound of the water flowing along with the movements of his body seemed almost too loud. It cut through the perfectly peaceful silence and, finally, I fell out of my trance.

 

Until then, I hadn't even realized that I had been staring at him, neither talking nor moving.

From all the reactions I could've had, from all the tantrums I could've thrown for finding my ex-bandmate bathing in my hotel room... I picked none.

 

Instead, I asked, completely calm - hell, even a bit amused, "Dave? What are you doing here?"

 

His smile spread into a grin and, finally, I was close enough for him to take my hand into his. I let him. It was damp and hot, his skin was already slightly wrinkled from the bath. It left me wondering how much of his time had he spent there already, waiting for me.

Dave didn't even bother to answer my question. After all, it was rather obvious. He was bathing. And he was completely nude in front of me, something I immediately noticed once I looked down. There were no bubbles in the tub, just clear water that left nothing to the imagination.

And still, I didn't move back. I didn't jump or yell at him to get out. Instead, when he tugged at my hand, I kneeled down on the floor, right next to the tub. His fingers then abandoned mine but quickly returned to stroke those messy bangs out of my face.

 

The gentle contact of his fingertips against my skin was enough to make my face burn hot. And from that moment on, it was completely over for me. His touches were so feathery, the smile on his pale face so inviting...

Before I knew it, I leaned forward, my eyes fixed on his plush, red lips. I went in slowly as if I was testing the waters. His hot breath tickled my face and a second later, I was... Not kissing him. He had pushed two damp fingers in between our mouths which ultimately blocked the path for me.

 

God, he's a tease.

 

He clicked his tongue twice before dragging his fingers down my mouth, my chin. His hand dropped back in the water with a splash and he leaned back into the comfort of the bath again.

 

"Join me, James...", he cooed once more.

 

His tone was so inviting, added perfectly to the amused expression on his face. He had me. He fucking had me exactly where he wanted me to be and he knew that. I was so eager that I almost forgot to take off my clothes before joining him in his bath.

 

I dipped my foot in first, testing the heat while I did my best to cover myself up with my hands. At that moment, I almost envied Dave for being so confidentially nude in front of me. But he also gave me no reason to not feel comfortable around him. He didn't let his eyes roam my body like I had initially assumed - or feared - when I slid my clothes down my body.

No, his eyes were firmly fixed on mine. Our eye contact seemed nearly a bit too intense. Just like everything else about this encounter was too intense.

 

Before I could even settle down, Dave wrapped his arms around my neck. He didn't tug at me, or use his force in any other way, but somehow he still made me slide on top of him. We melted together in the heat of the momen- I mean, of the tub and soon, I was trapped. Quite literally because Dave soon wrapped his legs around me. The movement was so smooth that I hadn't even noticed it until his grip tightened a bit. It surprised me to no end simply how much strength his slim legs held.

All his movements were so smooth, so skilled... I couldn't help but think that he had done this before. But he didn't give me a lot of time to let that thought go through my head though because not a moment after his legs had wrapped around me, he grabbed onto the edge and spun the two of us around with full force.

 

Yeah, this had been too good to be true.

Before I could even make a sound, Dave was on top of me and pushed my head underwater. This was it. He must've completely lost every last bit of sanity and was now on a rampage.

Or maybe he's always been like this. Maybe all that he needed to finally gather the courage to fullfil his insane, murderous fantasies... was hate.

 

I was kicking, trying to grab onto everything and anything I could get a grip on but with no success. I tried holding my breath in a last desperate to not drown when I could already feel my body go limp. That was also when Dave pulled me back up.

His lips crashed into mine, forcing me to gasp into our kiss. Breathing in the air from his lungs instead of fresh one made me absolutely dizzy and I felt like I was gonna pass out at any moment. But he wouldn't let that happen. No, he needed me fully conscious for what he had planned.

Dave pulled back just enough for me to get a breath of fresh air. Well, the air was as fresh as it got in the steamy room we were in. Still, I was grateful for every ounce of oxygen I was allowed to breathe.

Although the fear of being pushed back down was still dangerously apparent, I didn't yell at him. There was something about him that was so seductive, so intriguing that I couldn't even fight him when he gave me the chance to do so. He must have bewitched me or something, put a roofie in my drink at the party earlier... Although he hadn't even been there. There was just no way that this came naturally.

 

"Fuck me, James", he panted, already grinding his hips into mine.

 

I just stared at him, unable to move even an inch. My mouth hung open on shock, which he definitely interpreted as an invitation because his mouth soon molded against mine again. He slid his tongue into my mouth and then slowly against my own. And God- it felt good. He tasted like booze or maybe that was me. No, I'll tell you what he tasted like. He tasted like sin.

He soon went down to my neck, kissing and whispering to me that he was sorry, that he didn't know what had gotten into him and that he wouldn't ever let this happen again.

He gave me with one red flag after the other but somehow, I believed him. He wouldn't push me down again if I only gave him what he wanted. And what I undeniably wanted too. I wanted him so badly.

 

I was sweating, light-headed and out of breath. And I wanted to make him feel just like that. I wanted to see him absolutely lose it over the sheer size of my dick and fuck him until he was nothing more but a shivering mess.

Maybe if I completely ruined him, he would even stop this bullshit and stay the fuck out of my life. Or maybe he'd come back... just for this. At the time, both outcomes sounded absolutely perfect.

 

"Get out!", I growled at him as I pushed him back. "Get the fuck out and get on the bed."

 

Dave blinked a couple of times, obviously taken aback from the sudden change of dynamic. It seemed to amuse him though.

With few more of his swift movements, he slipped out of the tub. On his way to the bed, he grabbed a towel to quickly dry himself off before positioning himself on the matress.

With his ass all the way up in the air and his legs slightly spread, he was showing me everything I wanted to see. He put himself on display so beautifully, fuck. It was almost like he read my mind there. This was exactly what I wanted.

 

A few seconds later, I found myself leaning over him. Water dropped from my wet hair down to his pale skin and ran down the sides.

At any other given moment, I would have admired him. I would have caressed his flanks, stroked his hair, kissed his skin, all while making the sweetest of love to him.

But this wasn't the time to be gentle. Dave was crazy, a total jackass. He didn't need love and affection. There has always been only one way to get a point across to him. And that is by physically beating it into him.

 

I'm not proud of it... But I absolutely ravished him that night. Went in with no warning or preparation, pulled his hair, scratched and bit his skin until it was bloody, left him no time to recover in between rounds... God, the names I'd called him and the screams he had responded with.

 

Yet still... he smiled at me at the end of it. He almost looked satisfied.

It was like he was enjoying this, like he had planned this even. With how much he enjoyed this punishment, I wondered if he had pushed me under water on purpose, only to achieve this exact outcome.

Maybe he wanted me to hate him like he hated me and, even though it was just for a few hours, he got just that.

 

The next morning, when it was time to check out of the damn place, I left him there.

I didn't want to leave him all by himself. Honestly, I pitied him. I can't imagine what must be wrong in his head for him to enjoy all the things I did to him. I really wish he got help. It's just that I couldn't be that help he needed.

After I absolutely ruined him the night before, he still... No, I must have misheard. But I could swear that, before I closed the door behind me, someone whispered,

"I love you, James."

Chapter Text

I knew from the very beginning that this was wrong. I should've put an end to Dave's insane behavior but instead, I did nothing but to fuel it. I knew he was sneaking into my home from time to time. He never broke anything, other than the lock on my door, and even left the place more tidy and clean than he found it. At one point, Dave became somewhat of a secret housemaid. It was just that he wasn't working for money but rather for my attention.  And attention is exactly what I gave him.  

 

A couple of days ago, I left a note on the kitchen counter for him before driving my truck to band rehearsal. It was a simple, short letter. I didn't know where I wanted to take this conversation yet, so I kept the tone neutral. 

 

"Don't leave before I come back, please. I just wanna talk. - James"

 

That was all I wrote and, apparently, it was enough. 

It took him a couple of days, but eventually, he waited at my place until I returned. I don't really know if he just hadn't read my note earlier or if he already read it but didn't comply right away. It's pretty hard for me to tell just how often he breaks in at this point. To me, it feels like the lock is always broken though, so it might be that he spends all my workdays alone at my place. 

 

The thought of someone invading the privacy of my own home should probably make me uncomfortable but somehow, it doesn't. And, to be fair, it wasn't Dave who did it, I probably wouldn't have batted an eye before calling the cops. But with him it's different. 

 

We were really close once and although that friendship went to shreds when we kicked him out, the feeling of comfort when we spent time with one another, the comfort we had established over years, never died. And although he's been acting completely nuts in recent weeks, months even, he was still my friend once. 

 

Sure, he's an unpredictable stalker who even tried to drown me the last time we met but for a long time, he used to be my best friend. I mean, that must mean something, right? 

 

Dave has always been the rough type of guy but after we told him to leave and basically abandoned him, he really changed. To the worse, that is. And... I don't even know if I can blame him for it. It must be hard to lose your friends, your job, your place to live, all within one day. 

 

For the record, I'm not saying that he didn't do all of this to himself. After all the shit he pulled then, the excessive drinking, the aggressive behavior... after all of that, he pretty much deserved it. 

 

But off record, I really miss him. And with 'him' I don't mean the deranged, sad man that breaks into my apartment and cleans it to impress me. No, I'm talking about the old Dave who was always overflowing with confidence and energy while still looking completely unbothered by everything. 

 

I don't miss the way he looks up to me since we split. However, I really miss being able to look up to him.

 

But people change and, usually, I can accept that. Not in this case though. All he does is to hurt himself and I feel like it's only a matter of time until he might hurt someone else as well. And that's the reason why I wanted to talk to him. To find out what it was that he wanted and if there was a way to solve our problem without getting the police or a therapist involved. Although that'd probably be for the better. But for some reason, I thought I could fix him on my own. 

 

When I returned home yesterday, Dave was waiting for me. Even though I've been awaiting him for days, I was still a bit shocked when I laid eyes on him. He was sitting on my couch with his legs crossed, reading a book as if it was the most normal thing ever. And reading probably is just that: the most normal thing ever. Unless you're sitting in someone else's house, wearing their clothes, reading their books without having asked first. 

 

Yes, you read that correctly. Dave was wearing my clothes and not a lot of them either. He had picked out one of my favorite t-shirts, one that's a bit more on the larger, baggy side. And besides that big shirt, he was only wearing bright red boxers.  Also mine.

 

 

The situation was awkward, to say the least. Once I stepped into the living room, he just lifted his gaze from the book and looked up at me, almost innocently. To me, it felt like I caught him right in the act but that description doesn't quite fit now that I'm looking back at it. After all, Dave didn't flinch back or anything. He didn't act like he was caught doing something wrong just now, probably because he didn't consider his actions wrong at all. 

 

"If you're gonna wear my clothes, you might as well start doing laundry." , I told him, trying to keep my tone as neutral as possible. 

 

"I already do that." , he giggled before patting the cushions next to him.  "Please, take a seat."  

 

What a disappointing start to this conversation. I underestimated just how completely delusional he is. And now he was even offering me a seat as if this was his place and I was visiting him.  How dare he?  I already wanted to snap at him but held myself back last minute. An overreaction on my part might've triggered one of his own and, considering he tried to kill me last time we met, I wanted to avoid that at all cost.

 

And so I didn't lose my temper. Instead, I kneeled down on the floor in front of him and took his hands in mine. He looked down at me with a mix of surprise and pure bliss on his face and he listened attentively while I calmly explained to him why his behavior was inappropriate. It felt like I was teaching a child about morals, about what is good and bad. 

 

But I wasn't talking to a child. I was talking to a 22-year-old, grown adult who had apparently lost all his understanding of boundaries and morals. A grown adult that just smiled at me once I was done and then told me the most insane thing I've probably ever heard. But what he said wasn't even the worst part. The way he said it, so innocently, as if he never had any bad intentions on his part, made the whole thing only more bizarre. 

 

"I know I shouldn't have broken into your home. But I wanted your attention. I'm so deeply in love with you, James, and I just know that I can make you love me too. I'm not that asshole you fired anymore, I'm a whole different person now. I came here and did all your chores for weeks now, hoping to change the bad image you have of me. I changed because of you. And I hope that one day you can see me as something other than a dick, James. I hope that one day, you can see me as a boyfriend."

 

 

I had been staring at his face the whole time but once he finished and that damn sweet smile spread across his face, I couldn't stand to look him in the eye anymore. So I looked down. Only to see that my hands weren't cupping Dave's anymore but that they were now being held by his. He must've entwined our fingers when I was distracted by his bizarre speech. 

 

Perplexed.  That's what I must've looked like. 

 

I couldn't tell how long we were holding hands already and I also couldn't pinpoint one emotional reaction I had to what he just said. His words were sweet, in a way, but that was mainly due to his innocent tone that gave his insane ideas a whole different meaning. He had just told me that he loved me and yet... I felt threatened. Had it not been for the tone of his voice, I probably would've jumped.  And hell, I wanted to jump. Out of my skin and then out of the room. But I didn't dare to move an inch. I just kneed there, staring at how perfectly entwined our fingers were. His touch burned so much on my skin that I couldn't tell whether it was hot or just really cold.

 

Dave started to hum while swinging his legs on my sides. He seemed so lighthearted while at the same time being so intensely threatening, it was driving me crazy. Everything he did, all those little innocent actions felt like the most hypothetical thing ever. He's always been a walking contradiction but this was definitely taking things to a whole new level. 

 

"Uhm, James?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Look at me. "  

 

I looked up again, only to see that the sweet and innocent smile still hadn't vanished from his face. For some reason, it put me to ease. I had assumed that once I lifted my face again, he would attack it. Sure, his hands were more or less tied to mine but a headbutt would've still been an option, as well as a very good method to physically hurt me. But that didn't seem his intention. Maybe he really wanted to establish a domestic relationship with me... 

 

"What is it?" , I asked, my voice quivering a bit although I tried my best to keep it neutral. 

 

"If we're going to have sex again tonight, can you do me a favor?"  

 

"Sure."

 

And this is where I completely forgot about my initial intentions. I should've told him right off that there was no way I was sleeping with him again. Instead, I was willing to listen to what he wanted, when having sex shouldn't have been a possibility, to begin with. 

 

"Can you be a bit more gentle? Last time left me pretty fucked for a while." , he requested. Despite his words, it didn't seem like he was judging me at all. 

 

"I'm sorry." , I whispered,  "I'll do my best to be more gentle next time."

 

What was I doing?  What the hell was I  thinking,  making a promise like that? The apology had been necessary and quite overdue too. But I should've apologized for leaving him that morning and not for being too rough. Because if he hadn't liked it, he would've just stopped me. If it hadn't been established that Dave is physically stronger than me before he almost drowned me, it definitely was afterward.

 

"Oh, and can you stay in bed with me until I wake up?" , he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts and back into reality. 

 

"Can do" , I replied without giving it a second thought. 

 

 

Dave then offered me a bright, open mouth smile in response before pulling me up and onto the couch next to him. I didn't even have time to adjust before he snuggled up against me and planted his face firmly in the crook of my neck. His breath felt just as hot as the touch of his fingers had felt earlier. Whenever he inhaled, that part of my neck felt cold and damp. I caught myself wanting to tug him closer to rid myself of that feeling but ended up remaining in our position.

 

I didn't want to tug him closer, he was already way too close to me. His arms wrapped around my waist and he had both his legs laying across my lap. He had fully trapped me in his embrace bit I didn't feel threatened. I didn't sweat or started to panic. If anything, I felt warm. No, Dave felt warm.

 

The burning sensation his skin had caused on mine completely disappeared and melted into a nice, comfortable warmth. I loved holding him, loved being close to his slim body, loved running my hands over his smooth legs. 

 

And Dave? He seemed to enjoy this even more than me if that was even possible. Even when he started to get cold, something I was able to tell by how he was pushing his feet in between the cushions, even then he didn't make an attempt to move. Maybe he thought that once he pulled back I wouldn't welcome him back in my arms. I really shouldn't have, but I did. 

 

After I urged him to please put on some socks and a pair of sweatpants, he finally got up and slipped into my bedroom. I don't know why I had assumed that he'd have his own clothes at hand, taking that he was already wearing mine, but the fact that he didn't, still surprised me.

 

 

I sighed, let my head fall against the backrest of the couch and closed my eyes for a moment. This wasn't what I had planned. I had planned to explain to Dave that his behavior was unacceptable and to find out why he did all this, to make him stop. And there I was, waiting on the couch for him to return in more of my clothes.

 

His words were still swarming my head. He loved me, he wanted me to be gentle. Who was he to even ask for such favors? The one person I could never cut out of my life, that's who Dave was. And still is. Maybe for a reason... Maybe I felt something like love for him as well and that's why I couldn't- 

 

 

That thought was cut short when Dave jumped back into my lap and pressed me into the cushions by the shoulders. His grip was hard at first, almost painful, but it soon loosened and his hands went upward to cup my jaw. I sighed once more, this time in relief, as he leaned in to place those wonderfully plush lips of his against my own.

 

It all began with that little kiss and the feathery touches we exchanged during it. But those touches quickly became eager, more demanding. Before I knew it, I was on laying on my back and Dave was sitting on top of me, rolling his hips into mine. 

 

It was giving me flashbacks to our last time when he was on top of me in the bathtub, also grinding our hips together. The only difference was that this time, I wasn't choking for air.  Until I did.

 

Dave's hands, that had been so frantically roaming my body since things got a bit more heated, eventually got to my throat and closed around it. At first, he only kept them there while rubbing himself against me and, in the heat of the moment, I let him. I was too distracted by how delicious that friction he was providing was to even care about that very real threat.

 

He suddenly began to roll his hips into mine a lot harder, pulling a loud groan from me. A groan that got halfway stuck in my throat due to how tight his grip on my neck suddenly became. I wouldn't let the same thing happen to me twice though. So instead of making desperate attempts to receive even a bit of oxygen, like last time, I just pushed him off of me with full force. This attack he probably would've resisted if it hadn't been for how surprising it came.

 

He landed on his back and I was quick to climb on top of him, to pin him down. I was fuming again. Sure, I had promised him to be gentle this time but then he had to come around and pull the same shit as last time.

 

I pinned him down by the wrists and apparently, a few strands of his hair got entangled in that grip which is why he yelped in pain when I tugged at him. But I didn't fucking care. I was so fucking upset with him for trying to screw me over the same way again that I couldn't have cared less if I hurt him. Or so I thought. Because in the same second Dave let out his first sob, I instantly flinched back a bit.

 

"I thought you liked that!" , he cried out, rubbing his wrists.  "Last time it wasn't until I choked you that you finally took fucking action!"

 

"Oh." , is all that I said in response.

 

 So that's what this was. An attempt to get me to act. He was provoking me so that I'd make a move on him. How had I not seen that any earlier? He never intended to actually harm me, all he was trying to do was to get me to take the initiative, even if he did it in his own, sick ways.

 

I wanted to explain to him my part of this story but almost immediately began to stumble over my words. After a few seconds of stuttering out a couple of words, I finally managed to say, " I'm sorry, Dave."

 

"Fuck off." , he pouted and shuffled underneath me until he wasn't facing me anymore.

 

How childish it was of him to just turn away and ignore my presence like that. I had apologized, hadn't I? Wasn't that enough? It was enough when he almost drowned me but only because he didn't have bad intentions, probably.

 

Did I have bad intentions? Maybe. Did I act on them? No.

 

I could've easily punched him straight across the face when his grip tightened around my throat, yet I went for the less harmful method of self-defense and simply pushed him off of me. Isn't it laudable of me to refuse to act on bad intentions that might come my way? Doesn't that make me a more self-controlled person than him? The answer to that later turned out to be: no. Because I didn't show a single ounce of self-control that night. All I did was give in more and more, paying little to no attention to the effects this had on me.

 

 

When Dave's sobbing didn't stop, I began to console him. When it got late and I should've kicked him out, I asked him to stay. When it was time to sleep and I should've told him to sleep on the couch, I invited him into my bed. 

 

And, finally, when I should have told him to never break into my place again, well... In a way, I did just that. I didn't tell him to never come again though. Instead, I solved the problem of him trespassing by simply giving him a key.