I could not believe my eyes as I looked across the smoky room. That was Keith, unmistakably so. I would be able to recognize that proud tilt of the head and graceful slant of the neck any time, any place.

I watched him as he picked his way through the crowd to the alcove, a little shakily. He put out a hand to steady himself before climbing the single step and sink onto the couch which lined the cozy little alcove. There were several men seated around the table and one of the men on the couch reached out and pulled Keith into a hug. He slid a hand along the inside of Keith’s thigh as Keith sat down beside him. I stared at them, gritting my teeth and ignoring the others at my table.

It was Friday night and I had reluctantly agreed to a night out with the boys after a very long period of hibernation. But John had been insistent and refused to accept my excuses. I glanced over at him, wondering if he knew I would find Keith here. He seemed totally unaware, and his look of surprise when he followed my eyes and detected Keith convinced me it was pure coincidence. Which was good for John!

I saw Keith say something, then push the man away irritably. It was too far and too dark to see Keith’s face properly but that his temper was in full swing was obvious. I could well remember the fiery tantrum displays whenever his will was thwarted. Obviously, he had not changed. He turned his head away, an arrogant yet graceful movement. The man laughed when Keith shrugged off his hand. Then the man reached for something and pushed it into Keith’s hands. Eagerly, Keith turned back to his companion and allowed him to light up the cigarette which the man had handed him.

Keith took a deep drag and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Slowly, his head lolled onto the man’s shoulder. His body slumped. At that moment, realization hit me. Keith was back at it. I felt a sudden surge of anger rush through me and I rose to my feet.

I felt a hand on my arm, restraining me, and saw that it was John’s. ‘Relax, Dusty. He is no longer your responsibility.’ His eyes bore into mine and I sat down again.

John was right. Keith had moved back to his apartment six months ago and he was no longer my responsibility. I tore my eyes away and John doggedly began a conversation, which I largely went over my head. Try as I might, I could not stop my eyes from straying back to the alcove. John clucked disapprovingly in my face.

Keith was leaning against the man who began stroking his thigh again. The hand moved up possessively. Then another man sat down on the other side of Keith and whispered something in Keith’s ear. Keith squirmed between them, apparently preferring to doze off.

I turned away, regretting my decision to come out with the guys. It was difficult seeing Keith again, and much worse seeing him like that. When I next looked over at them, some sort of argument had started. The mood was getting heated up in their corner, and heads began to turn. Keith sat between them, looking around in some confusion. Then all hell broke lose; there were shouts and someone hurled a glass down and it shattered, and Keith screamed as a fist shot out.
I sprang into action.

* * *

I shoved Keith inside and followed him in, closing the front door with a snap. I was boiling mad, but also incredibly relieved that Keith had not been seriously hurt. And I was honest enough to admit that I felt a mad exhilaration that Keith was here in my house again.

He was leaning on me, muttering incoherently but happy. I had never seen him so high. Or maybe I had, when I had first met him three years ago, but that memory had long been buried and was faded, so I could not be sure.

I quickly locked up the front door and steered him upstairs to my bedroom – which once was OUR bedroom. I stripped him with some difficulty, as he was totally uncooperative, trying to cling to my neck and giggling like a silly schoolboy. I firmly pushed him into the bathroom and made him bend over the washbasin and wash his face. There was a bruise on one cheek and I carefully dabbed around it with a washcloth. He winced and pushed my hand away.

‘Ow!’

Then I tenderly dried him off as he leaned against the counter, eyes closed. He was already in some other place, the only escape he had once known and which I had once been able to replace. I doggedly kept my thoughts focused on getting Keith ready for bed, refusing to deal with the past and the questions and the ache in my heart.

I pulled one of my t-shirts over his head, made him put on a pair of my sweat pants which threatened to slide off his slim hips, and tumbled him into bed. He reached out both arms trustingly to me in the way he used to do, and I choked down the lump in my throat.

I sat down and gently hugged him, feeling his arms quickly wrap around my waist. I held him till he relaxed and his breath became steady. Then I straightened up, gently stroking his fair hair off his forehead, studying his pale face. I trailed one finger on his good cheek and bent down to kiss it. Then I pulled the covers over him and went and poured myself a stiff drink.

* * *