Chapter 8 - Season 1: Unspoken Desires
2442 Words
I closed my eyes, and a lone tear rolled down my cheek. My lips yearned for his, and when they finally met, I kissed him with all the love I had. Mike's eyes fluttered shut as I felt his warm, deep breaths on my skin.
His response was overwhelming—fierce, passionate, as though his lips had long been starving for mine. The air around us ignited. I found myself pressed against the door as he embraced me.
The noise outside the office was relentless—the clatter of cement pouring, the hammering and rumbling of machinery from the Manchester's construction site. But none of it mattered. Not in this moment. The intensity of Mike's kisses seemed to burn away the world outside. His lips devoured mine with a fiery longing, as if he’d been holding this back for far too long.
As he kissed me, I felt his breaths—hot, deep, and unyielding. I opened my eyes briefly and caught sight of his closed ones, lost in the madness of our kiss. His right hand braced against the door, while his left hand cradled the back of my neck, his fingers grazing my skin.
My hands wandered beneath his shirt, exploring the smooth, heated expanse of his body. My fingers reached his chest, where they found his n*****s. Gently, I pinched and teased, feeling them stiffen under my touch. Mike's breathing quickened, and he responded with a deeper, more fervent kiss, almost swallowing my tongue as our passion grew uncontrollable.
For over five minutes, our tongues danced in a fiery rhythm, neither of us wanting to let go. My left hand wandered lower, cupping the firm evidence of his arousal. He gasped sharply, his voice trembling with pleasure, "Uuuuuh... Uuuuh..." and kissed me again with renewed fervor.
Mike's response only fueled my boldness. He seemed to surrender to my touch, almost guiding my hand toward the growing heat inside his pants. Our bodies burned with the need to explore every inch of one another. Just as I began lowering his zipper, he suddenly pulled away.
"Michael, stop. This isn’t right," he said, his voice low, trembling with restraint.
"Mike… Why?" I whispered, my voice heavy with longing.
"Just go… Please."
The pain in his eyes mirrored my own, but I didn’t press further. I respected his plea. Reluctantly, I stepped back, my face a picture of heartbreak as I turned to leave.
As I closed the door behind me, a loud thud startled me. It was followed by a guttural scream from Mike.
"Aaaaaaargggggghhhhhhh!" His voice broke through the noise outside.
Peering through the open sliding window, I saw him punch the wall, his fist colliding with a force that echoed through the office. His frustration and pain were palpable, but I didn’t go back. Instead, I headed for the mall, knowing my lunch break was nearly over.
The sun was merciless as I made my way, the heat dizzying. When I finally reached the food court, Bryan approached me.
"Hey, Michael!" he greeted cheerfully, but his smile quickly faded. "You look pale. Are you okay?"
I tried to respond, but the world spun around me. Before I could take another step, I collapsed right in front of Taco Bell.
Gasps erupted around me as people gathered. Some rushed to help, and my colleagues carried me to the mall clinic.
The doctor confirmed it was low blood pressure. Exhaustion, perhaps, or stress. Sir Andrew soon came to check on me.
"What happened to you?" he asked, concern etched on his face.
"It's nothing, Sir Andrew. I'll be fine soon," I assured him weakly.
"Have you been staying up late?"
"Not really."
"Bryan said you weren’t feeling well earlier."
"Just a little," I admitted.
"Well, the doctor gave you a one-day sick leave. Rest up."
"Thank you, Sir."
"By the way," he added with a grin, "on Sunday, there’s basketball practice at Mike's place in Laguna. Don't overwork yourself, okay? We don’t want you becoming the poster boy for sleep deprivation sports."
I managed a faint smile. "Don’t worry, Sir. We’ll make Gateway Mall the champion of the Araneta Center's first Basketball League."
"You’d better," he said with a wink.
But as he left, my mind lingered on Mike—his fiery kisses, his pained voice, and the undeniable tension that hung between us.
Sir Andrew was about to leave the clinic when the door swung open, revealing someone unexpected. My heart skipped a beat—it was Mike.
As their paths crossed, Sir Andrew casually addressed him, "Oh, Mike! What brings you here? Feeling dizzy too?"
“No,” Mike replied, his voice calm but strained. “My hand’s swollen, so I came to get it checked.”
Sir Andrew glanced at Mike's hand and chuckled lightly. "Ah, it’s just a little red. What happened?"
“Caught it in a door,” Mike replied nonchalantly.
"Doesn't look too bad, no scratches even. Anyway, I’ll be off now." He turned to me and added, "Michael, get some rest. Head home once you’re feeling better."
I stayed silent, pulling the blanket over my head to hide the grin spreading across my face. Was it possible Mike was here because of me? My heart raced at the thought. When I finally lowered the blanket, I found his eyes on me, a flicker of worry shining through. He was rubbing Voltaren gel on his knuckles, a feigned look of pain on his face as he worked.
Despite his concern, he didn’t say a word to me. I stayed quiet too, unsure of what to say.
The door opened again, and this time it was Sir David from Rustan’s. The tension in the room thickened as he entered. He and Mike exchanged icy glances, neither acknowledging the other.
While Mike consulted with the doctor, Sir David walked over to me, his voice soft and filled with concern. “What happened to you?”
“It’s nothing, Sir David. You didn’t have to go out of your way to visit me,” I replied, sitting up on the edge of the stretcher.
“Michael,” he said with a gentle smile, “how many times do I have to tell you? Just call me David. Unless, of course, you’re thinking of transferring to my department?” He winked teasingly.
I laughed softly, though I noticed Mike’s sharp glare cutting in our direction. Was he… jealous?
“Oh, David, I’m fine where I am with Sir Andrew and my current job.”
“Well, just take care of yourself, okay? Don’t overwork.” He reached out, brushing his hand lightly across my forehead, down to my nape, before giving my cheek a playful pinch.
I couldn’t help but smile. “I will. Thank you, David.”
From the corner of my eye, I caught Mike watching us again, his gaze darker this time. His conversation with the doctor dragged on, but his burning eyes spoke louder than words as he twirled his car keys around his finger.
After a while, David offered to give me a ride home, insisting it was safer than taking the train.
“Michael, let me drive you home,” he said kindly.
“No need, David. And isn’t your shift still ongoing?”
“It’s fine. I’m only working a half day today. Come on, I insist. I’ll pick you up near Isetan in 15–20 minutes, okay?”
“Well… alright,” I relented, laughing lightly. “You’re so persistent!”
David grinned. “Great. I’ll text you when I’m ready. See you soon.”
As David left the clinic, Mike and I were finally alone. The silence between us was heavy. Mike focused intently on his iPhone, avoiding my gaze.
I decided it was time to grab my things from the locker room. As I reached for the door, Mike suddenly grabbed my wrist, his touch firm but hesitant.
“You’re really going with him?” His voice was low, laced with frustration and jealousy. “How well do you even know him?”
I turned to him, my tone defensive. “I know David, and we’re just friends. But why should I have to explain myself to you?”
Mike’s grip slackened, and he looked away. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked…”
I pulled my hand back, my voice softer but firm. “Mike, I’m leaving. And next time? Don’t punch walls—you’re not the only one who gets hurt.”
The words escaped my lips before I could stop them. I wasn’t sure why I said it, but I meant it. Without waiting for his response, I walked out, heading to the locker room.
As I left, a thought lingered in my mind. If only he’d said, I’m worried about you. Let me take you home instead. Maybe then I wouldn’t have hesitated to choose him. But he didn’t.
Why does he have to make things so complicated?
-----
February 4, 2012
It was a quiet Saturday afternoon. After church, I headed straight to an internet café to chat with my friend Vince. He had messaged earlier, saying he’d be online in about 30 minutes. While waiting, I logged into Planet Romeo, hoping to pass the time. My timing was perfect—niceguy87 was online. Without hesitation, I sent him a message.
“Hi, it’s been a while since we last talked. How are you?”
“Not that good,” he replied. “Been really busy with work.”
“I get that,” I said. “So, how are things with your special guy?”
“Not great,” he admitted.
“Why? What happened?”
“I think I hurt him,” he said, his tone heavy with regret.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Let’s just say… I’ve been such a coward. A complete jerk.”
“Has he been avoiding you?”
“No. In fact, he came to me,” he revealed. “He told me he felt something for me, and he was glad I kissed him. But… I told him to forget about everything.”
I froze, disappointed for him—and for the person who had bravely confessed. “Oh no… why would you do that?”
“He kissed me,” he continued, his words pouring out like a confession. “And I could feel the love in it. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever felt before. When I kissed him back, it was as if the world disappeared, and it was just the two of us. I didn’t want it to end. But even in that moment of pure happiness, my mind kept screaming that it wasn’t right. So, I pushed him away… again.”
“Why would you do that?” I asked, unable to hide my frustration. “Don’t you want to be happy?”
“I do… but there’s so much at stake. If I choose to be with him, I risk losing everything—my girlfriend, my job, and the respect of my family. You don’t understand. My father is half-Chinese, and our family holds traditional values. I’m the eldest son—the only son. The shame of being in a relationship with another man would crush them.”
His words hit me hard, but I couldn’t help offering a suggestion. “If only we could live in a world free of judgment. But why not try a secret relationship? Just you and him against the world. Doesn’t that sound sweet?”
“I don’t know, mikearchangel01,” he confessed. “He’s driving me crazy.”
“That’s what love feels like,” I teased.
“I admit it. I’m in love with him. But I’m a jerk because I keep pushing him away. And yet, I’m terrified of losing him.”
“Especially if someone else is interested in him? Is there someone else?” I asked, sensing his underlying fear.
“There is,” he replied, adding an angry emoji.
“Has this other guy made a move?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “We were all at an event the other day, and during a moment alone in the restroom, he kissed me. I kissed him back, but I ended it quickly. It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t the place. Then, later that night, he got drunk, and one of our colleagues—who’s gay—took him home. I was furious and jealous. I followed them without them noticing, and thankfully, the guy just dropped him off at his flat and left. Nothing happened.”
“That’s a relief,” I said. “But admit it—you thought something did.”
“Yes,” he sighed. “I was so worried.”
“You’re really in love with him, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said softly. “I love him more than I love my girlfriend.”
“Then why do you keep pushing him away? If you don’t act now, someone else might take your place. What if he starts falling for that other guy?”
“I doubt it. He’s not the type to just give himself to anyone, especially when drunk. But tell me, my friend—what should I do?”
“Follow your heart,” I advised. “It’s the only way you’ll know if it’s worth it.”
“Thanks, mikearchangel01. I wish I could hear your story, but I know your friend from abroad is online now.”
“Yes, Vince is waiting. Next time, I’ll share, I promise.”
“Okay. Take care,” he said.
“You too,” I replied.
By 8:30 PM, Vince and I had finished our video call. As I walked home, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Mike—a group text.
"Good evening, guys. Just a reminder—we have a game tomorrow at my place in Laguna. It’s just practice, so it’ll be a small group. Let’s meet at 1:00 PM at the parking lot in front of the coliseum. A coaster will pick us up and drop us off. Let me know if you’ve received this message. Thanks."
I replied quickly, “Sure.”
Almost immediately, he sent another message.
“I’m counting on you…”
I stopped in my tracks, my eyes closing as a giddy smile spread across my face. My heart swelled, and I hugged my phone close to my chest.
“Haaay, Mike,” I whispered to myself, my cheeks warm with the thought of seeing him again.
To be continued…
- Writer
