The Devilish Empanada Affair

16. The morning after

Lucas POV

When Lucas opened his eyes the following day, the sky was still pale with shades of indigo and pink. He squinted, his head throbbing slightly. The approaching sun was not yet strong enough to chase away the lingering shadows, but Lucas had to get up to pee. Having drunk so much beer the night before, he felt both his heart and bladder heavy. 

Lucas concluded, groaning softly, that he was hungover. 

Being the first to wake up, he had time to shower and gather his thoughts about yesterday. The hot water relaxed his muscles, and the smell of soap refreshed his senses. Lucas sighed in relief. Though his mind was still foggy on the finer details, he remembered drinking with Kyle, sitting on their worn-out couch, and telling him how much he enjoyed living with him and trusted him. Kyle had given him a beautiful necklace. And then...

Lucas froze in the shower, the memory jolting him. He recalled how Kyle had looked at him—an intense gaze filled with desire and something more profound. They had been drunk, yes, but Lucas recognized that look. It was more than just friendship.

"No way... that happened, didn't it?" Lucas mumbled, almost slipping on the wet tiles as the realization hit him.

They had had playful banter before, and Lucas had seen some flickers of something else in the past, but now it was unmistakably genuine. 

Worse, Kyle had seemed to want Lucas to take the initiative. Lucas remembered stumbling over the desk, books trembling as he fled the scene, his heart pounding. The turmoil of emotions now roiled within him, flushed him with embarrassment and something else—a reluctant desire.

Blushing fiercely, Lucas quickly dried himself off. 

When he headed to the living room, the rumble of early traffic echoed distantly, like a heartbeat growing steadier with each passing minute. The first rays of sunlight crept over the rooftops. Lucas imagined Kyle would wake up soon, too, but a glance at his bedroom revealed that the man was still in deep slumber.

Lucas couldn't help but pause, his gaze lingering on Kyle. Although still wrapped in bedsheets, Kyle's well-defined torso and muscular arms were displayed. For the first time, Lucas noticed deep scars etched across his back and abdomen, remnants of a past he knew nothing about.

At the sight of Kyle's exposed, vulnerable form, Lucas's blood heated, his mind swirling with conflict. He didn't want to wait for Kyle to wake up; he wasn't sure he could hide his growing desire, nor did he want to act on it. He glanced out the window, the fire escape interrupting the view. The building's windows caught the early light, reflecting it in shards of gold and silver, bathing Kyle in an ethereal glow. Lucas closed the door quietly and headed to the kitchen.

He decided to make breakfast—bacon, eggs, and sandwiches, along with freshly brewed coffee. Cooking helped him organize his thoughts. Later that day, he only had to present a project at school and return home to help with the stall. He'd catch up with Kyle afterward, maybe even talk about what happened—or almost happened—between them.

Satisfied with his work, Lucas glanced around the apartment. It was messier than usual, the smells of dried laundry, breakfast, and the faint scent of beer lingering in the air. He grimaced and opened the kitchen window, promising to clean up later.

Before leaving, he knocked on Kyle's door and said, "Breakfast is ready. Have a good day."

Outside, the rumble of traffic took over his senses, echoing like a distant heartbeat, growing steadier with each passing minute. A light breeze rustled through the leaves of tired trees, making Lucas shiver. He headed to the bus stop, still thinking about Kyle. He didn't notice the dark blob creeping into the buildings behind him, silently moving toward the direction he had come from.