Bed Sheets II

46. Hatred

Draven turned over his eggs, watching the yolk start to frizz from the hot butter. It had been a peculiar night with a high and drunk Kyle to take care of. He seemed intoxicated but calm, and that was an awkward mix to cooperate with. It seemed he was seconds from sobbing and laughing, and there was a mixture of hate for Draven that he bursted in for a short few words before realizing and calming himself down.

The moment they entered the home, Kyle said he had to puke, and they both sprinted to the bathroom where all of Kyle's insides had come out. That was why Draven started running the hot shower and asked Kyle to step in; he was filthy and smelled like booze mixed with weed and vomit. When Kyle walked out of the shower, the towel wrapped around his hips, Draven's eyes were locked on all his muscles shifting as he walked.

He was a handsome man, and Draven had to admit that.

"You didn't..." Kyle seemed confused, awkwardly scratching the side of his head and saying, "You didn't hand me any...clothes to change into."

Draven cursed under his breath and headed for his wardrobe, reaching for extra pairs of sweats and a sweater. He threw him some, and a pair of boxers that Kyle rapidly switched into.

They had returned to the living room, where Draven handed Kyle bottles of water one after another, and Kyle drank as much as he could. He still remained crossed, but the words leaving his mouth were as if he was sober.

"I never hated you, really. I had to hate you because Eric was still with you and you were my competition."

"That doesn't give you any right to ruin my name in the media."

Kyle scoffed at that remark, "You were having sex with my fiancé, D. I came to you multiple times to stop and you disregarded me."

Draven frowned, "And that gives you the right to call me an abuser? When you're the only one that put your hands on him?"

"You're acting like I abused the kid; I shoved him against a wall and then head-butted him."

"Let's not mention you put him in a chokehold."

"I do that when we have sex all the time—"

"That's abuse, we went to the hospital because of you."

"He's a grown man," Kyle rolled his eyes, "You act as if he's a little bird needing to be kept preciously and cradled whenever he gets hurt; Eric knows how to fight. You saw the way he played you, correct?"

Draven shook his head, reaching for his own glass of water, "I don't want to talk about it, I'm over it."

"No you're not, and I know you're not. Neither am I; I came here for him and I, to have our lives settled together—"

"I waited for him for five years Kyle, you're complaining to the wrong set of ears."

Kyle narrowed his eyes and then glanced elsewhere, "I'm not complaining I just...needed to vent to someone that understands." He sent a stressful hand through his hair, and lowered his gaze.

After a few seconds went by, Draven heard sniffing, and he raised an eyebrow, "Are you crying?"

"No, I'm not," Kyle shouted even though his eyes were teary. "It's not me it's this damn alcohol that needs to get washed out."

"I should be the one crying."

"We both fucking should be!" Kyle's arms widened violently, lifting his chin. He was growing annoyed that Draven was dismissing his feelings. "Stop disregarding how I feel—!"

"You disregarded how I felt multiple times," Draven set down his glass of water. "When you went to the media and made up those lies, you weren't caring about how I felt."

Kyle scoffed, glancing elsewhere and wiping his eyes, "Whatever."

"The worse part is that I can't stop thinking about you ever since we had sex," Draven admitted, shaking his head, "which I shouldn't be." He then shrugged his shoulders, "But who knows, maybe that's how things were meant to be."

"They weren't," Kyle shook his head, "I was supposed to be with Eric but you took him away from me."

"Don't blame me for your weak engagement—"

"What d'you say to me?"

"You heard me," Draven chuckled, lifting his eyebrows. "He was always in love with me, you were just a stepping stone."

Kyle's jaw tightened, and he stormed to his feet, "I fucking hate you. I hate you so damn much, I hate everything about you." He grabbed his glass of water and he threw it against the wall, "I hate how cocky you are, I hate how apathetic you are—"

"Apathetic?" Draven repeated incredulously. "You're in my home because of me being sympathetic."

"I hate how you think you can do whatever you want and find random reasons as to why it is alright. Just because you're the Draven Malcom. Newsflash stupid, you got your ass dumped by a mere editor five years ago, do you realize how insignificant you really are?"

Draven's fingers squeezed around his glass. "I fucking opened my home to you and this is what you say to me?!" He jumped to his feet, "You belittle me?"

"I'm making you realize that we're both the fucking same!" Kyle shouted, which made Draven's lips clamp shut. He shook his head, "We both got hurt, we both thought we met someone that loved us but didn't. I'm sorry for what I did to you, I really am. I was trying to save a relationship I thought was the one, and I shouldn't have done all this stuff to you in the process. I was blinded by love, you have to acknowledge that."

Draven bit his bottom lip, seeing the strain contorting Kyle's face and his trembling lips. His emotions were ten time stronger from the intoxication, and Draven was unable to glance away from his lips. He had never imagined that the Kyle Merchi, would be at his house apologizing to him. He had never dreamed that he would be even in the same vicinity as Kyle Merchi, which was why he had simply nodded his head.

"I'm tired, we're heading to bed," he had muttered, ignoring the jitters of his heart and he saw Kyle's arms depressingly fall to his sides.

He was unsure if Kyle was going to remember their conversation in the morning. However, when Kyle's yawn echoed across the hallway before he made an appearance in the kitchen, Draven wished he had not remembered the conversation since he felt nervous.

"Morning," Kyle greeted coolly, sending a hand through his burgundy hair and glancing over Draven to see what he was cooking. "Omelette, nice—"

"It's for me."

There was a short silence, and then Kyle slowly nodded his head, "Alrighty."

Draven realized how immaturely rude that had sounded, and when it was done, he slipped the omelette on a plate, pushing it in front of the seated Kyle and murmured embarrassingly, "I was kidding."

When they both began eating across from one another, Kyle moaning about how good the food was, it was Draven that cleared his throat and asked, "So this...what is this?"

"What is what?"

"Us, what we're doing here?"

Kyle frowned, "We're eating..."

"No," Draven placed his palm on his forehead before shaking his head. "We like having sex with each other, and the only person you thought of going to see when you were going through...whatever with Eric, was me."

He noticed Kyle's chewing slow down.

"Kyle, I know we—" there was banging on the door, which caused both of them to jump, startled.

It was violent, as if the banging was attempting to break the door down, and Kyle's eyes widened, "Who the fuck is that?"

"I don't fucking know but it better not be one of my employees or else they're fired."

He stomped towards the door, Kyle peeking from the hallway and the moment the door was pulled open, both of them became paralyzed.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eric screamed.