The lock generated a metal clinking, and so did the doorhandle. The vertical opening let in air, light and sound. Michael's voice increased in volume. The hallway still blocked their view. Dylan waited for the door to open wider. He did one step forward, then another.
Then, through the glass balustrade, the contours of Michael's face emerged. Short, black hair fell tousled over his forehead. A smile was constantly present on his chiseled face. Dylan could not see his eyes; Michael was seated with his bare back towards them. He was not wearing a shirt, nor any pants. With broad shoulders he leaned on the kitchen counter, one hand around a sandwich. His spine let to his slim waist and a pair of boxers. The black fabric accentuated the olive skin. His legs were confidently spread out as he sat on the high barstool.
Michael and Olivia both sat on opposing sides of the kitchen island. Olivia was confidently dressed in one of Michael's sweaters. Her face was beautiful but her hair was a mess. She did not seem to care and laughed when Michael told another story. She was completely occupied by him and did not seem to notice their presence.
Dylan's hand found the railing of the stairs. He placed his bare foot on the first glass tread. The surface felt cool and sticky. He descended further while staring at Michael to see any sign of recognition. He heard Samuel's footsteps behind him.
Then, Olivia changed her view and acknowledged their presence. She held up her hand in a waving motion and said something which Dylan did not register. Michael's back muscles contracted as he turned his upper body. With every fragmented moment passing, more of his facial expression became visible. His constant smile turned into a wrangled line when he looked at Samuel. He turned further and looked in Dylan's eyes for a moment that seemed never to end.
Samuel stood next to him and softly placed his hand on Dylan's lower back. "Good morning", he said politely and both responded. Olivia, unaware of the situation's intricacies, introduced herself to Samuel and began to ask about their night. Samuel responded vividly, leaving enough time for Michael to find a position. Michael attempted to discover any sign from Dylan, turned his gaze to Samuel and back, and waited patiently for Samuel's interaction to end. "What's he doing here?", he asked Dylan after a silent moment. His tone was sharp but polite. He must be aware of Olivia's presence.
All eyes turned to Dylan who cleared his throat. He could not feel any uncomfort and simply stated: "He slept here". "With you?", Michael said immediately. "Yes." The affable Olivia asked how they had met each other and Samuel responded with a long, revised story that left out many details. Dylan noticed Michael's posture change from suspicion to confidence. He did not want to show it meant anything to him. He turned back to Olivia and laughed when she said something funny. He joined their conversation and his low voice began to tell other stories from last night. He stood up from the barstool. His tall posture towered above them. With his chest confidently protuding forward he asked whether both needed breakfast. Samuel quickly responded positively and offered help, but Michael refused with a smile. He put on the coffee machine, put bread in the toaster and leaned against the counter to wait. He occasionally locked eyes with Dylan, but continued to be present in their conversation.
"... right Dylan?", Samuel asked. Dylan shook his head. "What?" He had not paid any attention. "You're quite a fan of cars, right? Olivia's saying her brother's working at Aston Martin. They must be one of those luxurious cars you fancy, right Dylan?" "Yes, those are golden." He produced the fully automatic behaviour of a self-driving robot. "Golden cars?" "Not literally, Sam. They're fucking ace." "If only you could afford one, mate", Michael joked from his side of the kitchen. He returned with two plates of toast and two coffee. He smiled friendly at both. Dylan could not see whether he merely put on a show due to Olivia's presence. Samuel and Dylan sat down at the kitchen counter on the opposite side of Olivia while Michael made another coffee for himself. His body and voice attracted attention yet his mind was hidden away.
When their simulated breakfast had come to an end, Samuel stood up. "It's time for me to go, but thanks for the lovely eggs and toast." He kissed Dylan on his cheek and shook Michael's hand. When he approached Olivia, she stood up as well. "I think I'm leaving too if that's alright with you." Michael raised his eyebrows and shamelessly teased her in front of the others: "Already? I was hoping for some more quality time. Where are you going?". "I've got to work at the store. We've got to open our doors in two hours." Michael approached her and placed both hands on her waist. Her messy hair reached until his broad shoulders and she placed her tiny hand on his bare chest. He bent down, teased her by kissing her neck, and straightened his shoulders again. "I need my sweater though", he said with a mischievous voice. Olivia giggled and promised to leave it here. She went upstairs to grab her stuff.
Michael immediately got to talk with Samuel. The content of their conversation was nonsensical but they both laughed. After Olivia returned, they firmly shook hands another time and both left through the heavy metal door.
The space turned cold and empty without Samuel's presence. The marble flooring guided a chilling breeze across Dylan's ankles. The stone kitchen counter did not react on any pressure. Michael gazed at him. He had found his position against the kitchen counter, a few meters apart. The soft morning light illuminated his body from one side. His jaw clenched and Dylan could see his facial muscles change through the thin layer of skin.
"What was that?", Michael simply asked. A deep urge arose to stare anywhere else than into Michael's dark eyes, but Dylan resisted. "Samuel", he said. "Yes, I could see that. What was he doing here?" "You said I could invite anyone." Michael swallowed. "Are you gay now?" "No." "So what happened?" "What do you mean?" "You and him. What happened? Did you have sex?" "We did. Why?" Michael's eyes enlarged for a fraction of a second. It was difficult to distinguish any emotion from his polished face. "Why? You tell me", he demanded. His voice was resolute, without any uncertainty. Dylan attempted to mimick his confidence. "I like being with him." "It's not the first time?" "No." "Why didn't you tell me?", Michael asked. His tone was loud and clearly articulated, yet an unusual crack appeared between the last two words. Dylan could not understand whether it meant disgust or anything else. "I don't know", he said.
Michael gazed at him, stood up, and began to put their plates in the dishes. It took uncomfortably long before the four plates had ended in the racks. Michael slammed shut the dishwasher and turned it on. The machine immediately got to work and water began to flush through the pipes. He closed the dark, walnut cabinet cover which muffled the sound. "Do others know?", Michael said. "No. Only Samuel's roommate." "Why did you hide it from me?" Dylan fell silent. He could not find a good enough reason, let alone formulate it into a meaningful sentence. "I don't know", he repeated. Michael stared at him, his lips pressed into a thin line, and awaited another response. "I guess.. I didn't know whether you'd like it." "Like it?", Michael responded immediately, "Samuel's rubbish. I've told you before. You and Monica are perfect for each other. He's filling your head with garbage".
The silence that followed hung heavily in the air. Dylan's breath got stuck in his throat. He did not dare to make a sound. Michael gazed at him, his dark eyes scanning his face and posture. Then, he rolled his eyes. "Mate. I'm only warning you", he said more calmly. After a pause he decided to add: "But you do you". Dylan's stomach turned, perhaps it was relief. "You don't care?" Michael's lips showed his familiar arrogance. "That you're into lads? As long as you don't involve me in any of it."
