Pest Control ✔

PC │006

【A L V I N】

It was late in the evening and I'd just gotten off of work when I came home to Antonio sound asleep on my couch. It was then that I'd remembered that I had given him the key to my home, and in all honesty, I regretted it. Because he often showed up at the most random times, especially when I wanted some time to myself. However, he was my best friend, and if he wanted to show up uninvited and sleep on my couch, you best believe I'll let him do it. 

I tried my hardest to be silent so as to not wake him up. I was just in the process of unbuttoning my shirt when someone knocked on the door - thankfully, they weren't too loud, however they weren't very quiet either. I took a quick glance at Antonio, and when I made sure that the noise hadn't awoken him, I made my way over to the door and pulled it open. 

"It's you?" I questioned, tilting my head at the sight of my neighbour. "What are you doing here?"

"I came here to give you these," he explained, extending the tray he'd been holding in his hands out towards me. "I tried ringing the bell a couple times but it didn't work, I think it's broken."

I let out a gasp at the sight of the freshly baked muffins and attempted to take the tray from him before recoiling at the pain that went rushing from my palms to every inch of my body because of how hot it was. I began to blow at my hand in agony, quite embarrassed as well, "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was hot-"

He let out a disappointed sigh, "It's my fault. I'll bring them inside, if you'll let me."

"Oh, sure," I said before stepping back to make way for him to get in - which, he did. He set the tray on the nearby table and took off his baking gloves before making his way over to me and gently wrapping his slender fingers around my wrist. He brought my hand up to his face and began to scrutinize it whilst rubbing the pad of the thumb of his other hand across my palm gently. He blew on it once - then twice, both times sending chills and sparks throughout my entire body, in a good and a bad way.

In a good way because in some sort of way, it made me feel alive. Maybe I was just saying that because I hadn't been with someone in so long and every minor form of physical contact had me melting - or maybe it was because no one had ever been that gentle with me before. Just the concern in his eyes was enough to stop my words at my throat. 

In a bad way because it made me feel oddly pathetic - because I'd made a fool out of myself in front of this man so many times in the span of two weeks and I couldn't even repay him properly. Here he was putting up with my bullshit and helping me kill roaches at three in the morning and baking me muffins, and I all I did was fuck up his sleep cycle and add to his stress. 

I examined his features carefully as he proceeded to blow on my hand in such a nurturing manner, with his thick brows furrowed in worry and his lips contorted into a frown. I noticed how the bags under his eyes were beginning to get even darker, and I couldn't help but ask, "Have you been getting enough sleep lately?"

"With you waking me up at three in the morning?" he joked, his eyes meeting mine for just a brief moment. "Why do you ask?"

"No offence, but your appearance," I began, inwardly smacking myself for how offensive I was already beginning to sound. "You look like you haven't gotten a wink of sleep. Is it because of me?"

He let go of my hand and stepped back, looking at me with half a smile on his face, "No, it isn't because of you."

"Okay," I nodded, deciding to drop the subject. "By the way, Lucien is your name, right?"

"Lucien Auclair," he confirmed, tilting his head at me. "What's your name, Mr. Lemongrab Undies?"

"Will you let that go?" I snorted, unable to hold back the smile that made its way onto my face. "I'm Alvin Russo."

"Alvin? Like from Alvin and The Chipmunks?" he chuckled, but upon noticing my death glare, he raised his arms, "Hey, I'm just messing around. I really like that name, actually."

"Thank you," I chuckled. "I like your name as well. Lucien, suits you quite well."

He opened his mouth to say something but when his eyes fell on Antonio who was snoring away like an active volcano threatening to explode, he pursed his lips and looked back over at me, "I should get going now. I don't want to wake your boyfriend up."

"My wh-," I began but he had already pushed past me and was beginning to make his way over to his place before stopping in his tracks. He turned around and walked a few steps back before saying, his voice barely above a whisper, "Let me know how it tastes."

"How what tastes?" I gasped, choking on my spit. 

"The muffins, genius," he chuckled, flicking my forehead. "I'll get going for real now."

He turned around once again, but I wrapped my fingers around his wrist. He turned around in confusion and I cleared my throat, "He isn't my boyfriend, by the way. He's already taken, he's just a friend."

I don't know why I felt the need to explain myself to him. Why should I care what he thinks? There's no harm in letting him think that Antonio is my boyfriend, right? Then why did I feel like I had to tell him that there was nothing going on between him and I?

"Oh," he commented. "I'm happy for him?"

That sentence sounded more like a question than it did a statement. I could make out the confusion in his face. He was probably wondering why I had told him that as well. Of course, he didn't care. 

"Sorry, I just don't think his lover would like it if I-"

"Yeah, I get it," he said with a grin, flicking my forehead once again. "Calm down."

And with that, he turned around and left, leaving me feeling like a complete idiot. I'd embarrassed myself in front of him once again.