Dangerous Love (ONC 2019 - LGBTQ)

2. Proposition

☆Dedicated to MaryFahey  writer of "Wattpad's Peculiar Writer's Retreat" a very entertaining entry for the ONC 2019 ☆

Patrick was standing in the shower unit attached to his bedroom, rinsing off the soap, when he heard a voice calling, "Patrick?"

He turned off the water, grabbed the towel from the top of the cubicle and wrapped it around his waist, then flung back the shower slide. "Yes? What?"

Harlan was standing right there, outside his shower unit, still damp from his own shower and totally naked.

"Jesus Christ!" Patrick leapt backwards, coming up hard against the wall of the shower cubicle.

Harlan gave an involuntary bark of laughter, then shook his head with a rueful grin. "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. I was just wondering if you'd like some company?"

Patrick went white, then red. "I didn't ask you here for that! I told you. I was doing a favour for Ted, I wasn't looking for anything in return."

"I know that," Harlan hastened to assure him. "I only thought-"

"You don't need to offer me payment!" interrupted Patrick, hotly.

Instantly, a shutter came down over Harlan's face and Patrick wished he could have bitten back the words.

"That wasn't my intention. I might be down on my luck at the moment, but I'm not a whore," said Harlan grimly. "Sorry if I offended you," he added in awful irony.

"I didn't mean-" Patrick spluttered, his face scarlet, but Harlan had turned on his heel and walked out.

Patrick heard the slam of the spare room door.

Later, Patrick lay alone in his bed, tossing and turning, reliving the ghastly end to the night again and again. How dared Harlan offer him sex? After all he'd said? Still, whispered a little voice in his ear, what would most people think if a gay man invited a stranger to his home then plied him with brandy?

Patrick winced. If only he hadn't added that last sentence! If only he'd answered with a simple "no, I'm not interested, thank you," instead of reacting like a scandalised old-Earth maiden, throwing up his hands in horror.

Gorgeous as Harlan had been, especially naked, Patrick's immediate instinct had been to back away. He'd never been good at one night stands, never been confident enough to take what was on offer and then say a casual goodbye with no regrets.

And the truth was, he had been taken completely by surprise. He'd had no inkling that Harlan was gay, let alone interested in him, though, come to think of it, a man didn't have to be gay to have sex with other men, not if he was desperate...

His stomach curled into a tight knot at the thought.

He'd liked Harlan, the little he knew of him, and he hated the thought that he felt so desperate he'd felt obliged to offer him sex... only to have Patrick turn him down in the most insulting way possible.

God! It was going to be so awkward in the morning. Excruciating!

How on Earth was he going to apologise?

Eventually he must have fallen asleep, because his wristcom alarm woke him from a rather disturbing dream. Patrick lay there for a minute, gathering his courage, before he got up and dressed quickly. Better get this over with. It was going to be as awkward as hell, but he owed Harlan an apology.

Cautiously, he opened his door, wondering whether Harlan was up yet. The house was silent, so perhaps he was still sleeping.

The kitchen was empty; their glasses from last night washed and put away, the bottle of brandy back on the shelf. There was no sign that anyone had eaten breakfast there. Patrick trod slowly down the passage and lifted his hand to knock on the spare room door. He knocked lightly. "Harlan? Are you up?" The door swung inwards, it hadn't been latched.

Patrick saw immediately that the room was empty. The bed was stripped and the doona folded neatly at the foot of the bed. There was no duffle bag in sight.

"Harlan?"

Patrick checked the bathroom, but that, too, was empty, even the towel Harlan had used was missing. He saw the light glowing on the refresher unit and opened the door. The unit was full of sheets and a towel, all washed and dried.

He checked every room—and couldn't deny he felt a guilty sense of relief when he saw his expensive sound system still in place—but there was no doubt, the house was empty.

Harlan had gone, and left absolutely no trace of his presence. Not even a "goodbye" or a "fuck you!" note.

For a brief moment, Patrick considered going to the shuttle terminal and trying to find him, but, really, what was the point? He'd stuffed up monumentally and there was no denying it. Nothing he could say was going to mend things. Better to simply accept Harlan's decision to walk away. He'd be on the other side of the planet soon, in any case.

Patrick would put him out of his mind and forget the whole disastrous episode.

He would.

(Author's Note - first target reached - 2086 words to this point!)