Chapter 17: The Morning After and the Interruption

Sunlight streamed through the window, painting stripes across the rumpled sheets. Xander woke with a groan, his head pounding, his mouth dry, a sense of dread clinging to him like a shroud. He blinked, trying to orient himself. The room was unfamiliar, sparsely decorated, distinctly Shin's. Then, the memories, sharp and vivid, crashed down on him. The bar, the drinks, the blurry faces…Shin. The argument, the kiss…and then… everything else. His stomach churned. Oh God. What have I done?

He turned his head and saw Shin, still asleep, his face relaxed, an arm draped across Xander's bare chest. The intimacy of the position sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He carefully, slowly, moved Shin’s arm, trying desperately not to wake him. He slipped out of bed, his movements stiff and awkward, the weight of regret heavy on his shoulders. He found his clothes scattered on the floor and quickly dressed, his mind racing, a single thought echoing in his head: I have to get out of here.

He was about to leave when Shin stirred. His eyes fluttered open, and he saw Xander. A soft, hopeful smile touched his lips. “Xander,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. He reached out, a gesture that sent a jolt of fear through Xander.

Xander froze, his heart pounding. He couldn’t meet Shin’s gaze. “I… I have to go,” he stammered, backing away.

Shin sat up, his smile fading, replaced by a look of confusion and hurt. He looked at Xander, his eyes searching his face. “Why?” he asked softly.

Xander hesitated, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions: regret, shame, confusion, and a flicker of something else…something that resembled desire. “I… I don’t remember everything,” he said finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I think… I think I made a mistake.”

Shin’s expression turned serious. He reached out and took Xander’s hand, his touch gentle, but firm. “It wasn’t a mistake,” he said, his voice laced with a desperate plea.

Xander looked at him, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and pain. “But… I was drunk,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“I know,” Shin said softly. “But…”

Before Shin could continue, the apartment door burst open, and Kenji strode in. He stopped short, his eyes widening as he took in the scene: Xander dressed, looking distraught, and Shin sitting on the bed, his hand still holding Xander’s. A cruel smile twisted his lips.

“Well, well, well,” Kenji drawled. “Looks like someone had a fun night.” He moved towards Xander, his eyes mocking. “You know, Xander, I always knew you had a thing for him.” He reached out, as if to touch Xander’s cheek.

Shin’s control snapped. The sight of Kenji touching Xander, the insinuating tone, the triumphant look on his face, sent a red-hot wave of fury through him. He lunged at Kenji, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall.

“Don’t you ever touch him again,” Shin snarled, his voice low and dangerous. He punched Kenji, hard, a brutal blow that sent him reeling.

Kenji stumbled back, clutching his jaw, his eyes wide with surprise and fear.

Shin turned back to Xander, his face a mask of rage and desperation. “Oh, you like him, do you?” he spat, his voice trembling with jealousy. “What’s so great about him? Is it because of him that I can’t… that I can’t…?” He couldn’t articulate the fear that consumed him, the fear that Xander would choose Kenji over him, that he would never be enough. “I’d do anything for you, Xander. Anything.”

Xander stared at Shin, his eyes wide with shock and terror. “Stop it, Shin!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “Stop it! Just… stop it!” He was trapped, caught between two men, both consumed by their own desires, their own obsessions. He felt suffocated, terrified. He just wanted it all to stop.

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