Value

"You're such a fucking slag."

Mick snapped his head away from the mirror, his hand frozen in the air where he had been applying his mascara.

"Excuse me?" He asked incredulously.

Keith just sat there in the armchair with a bitter look on his face. An empty bottle stood on the coffee table to his right.

"I said what I said," Keith replied.

Mick hated when Keith got mean after drinking, especially when he knew Mick was going to head out to have fun on a day off. Why did the other man feel the need to ruin his good times like this? He could just come along instead, but no, he wanted to be miserable and drink on his own some nights.

"What are you mad about now?" Mick asked, not with an angry tone but a mildly perplexed one. He knew what the answer was. Keith was mad about nothing in particular, just in a shite mood. But he wanted to hear what his guitarist would have to say to excuse himself.

"You let anyone fuck you. Why do you need to ask? It's nasty." Keith sneered and turned his nose at his lover.

Mick couldn't believe that he had to put up with this. They'd been together for a while now, and as with every relationship with their girlfriends, the deal was that it would be an open thing between them. Sure it would have felt nice on some level if they were able to be exclusive, but they both knew that wasn't possible for them. Why did Keith feel the need to get all possessive now?

"I'm sorry, Keith. Were you under the impression that I was a virgin when we met and I'd be your housewife eventually?" Mick replied as calmly and matter-of-factly as was possible. He was annoyed but mostly he was confused and tired.

Keith's bitter expression faltered for a second, though he hoped the other man didn't notice the little flash of hurt on his face.

"I know you slept your way through grammar school. Just hoped that you'd grow up and stop letting every Tom, Dick, and Harry slip their cocks into you eventually." He spat back. This time angrier than before.

Those words did finally hurt Mick a little. He knew it was a general expression but he didn't like hearing Keith use the name of his first serious boyfriend in that sentence. To his ears it sounded like Keith emphasized that middle name. Him and Dick had shared real feelings. Sure it was puppy love. But it was meaningful to him. Was Keith just mad that he wasn't his first? Why get mad about it now?

"What's with you? I don't get pissed that you slip yours to anyone you want." Mick's voice was lower now, slightly downtrodden.

This time Keith couldn't keep the mask. His expression softened to one even sadder than Mick's. He didn't actually enjoy seeing or hearing Mick hurt by his words, even though that was what he had been aiming for when he first spoke up. He regretted starting this, and hated that the other man had found a sore spot.

"Yeah, you don't... You don't get jealous..." This time Keith's voice was also low.

The words were laced with sincerity, and they clicked in Mick's head. He wanted to know if his takeaway from them was true.

Do you... dislike that I'm not jealous?" His words were as soft and sympathetic as he could muster while still being hurt.

Keith swallowed a bit. It wasn't pleasant to get into his own insecurities. It wasn't what his drunken mind had intended when he decided to blurt out his stupid insult.

"Yes. I do." The words were almost a whisper, like Keith was worried that if they were louder, they might break something. He swallowed again.

"I feel like shit. Like you don't give a fuck." A part of him wanted to go on a rant and share all his mind on the issue, but he held back, he already felt like a sorry sob without spilling the beans on how unspecial he felt with Mick. How Mick could always get anyone and how sometimes he felt more like a convenience than anything to the singer.

The confession hit Mick hard. He was still upset at his lover but sympathy was mainly taking it over.

"Oh, love. You shouldn't feel that." Mick looked Keith in the eyes and began walking over to him.

Once he reached the sitting man he slowly put his knees to the sides of the other man's thighs and sat down on his lap softly. It was Keith's time to feel a bit confounded now. Mick put his left hand underneath Keith's shirt and began traveling upwards.

"Do you want to know why I'd never feel jealous that you give your cock to other people, Keith?" Mick was now smiling slyly down at the other man. His face mere inches away from Keith's own.

"Yes." This time the guitarist really was whispering. He was afraid of the answer but wanted to know.

"Because while your cock is the best that has ever graced this earth, it's not what I truly value from you. I know that what I truly value isn't hidden by a pair of pants. But skin, flesh and bone." Mick placed his palm on top of Keith's heart, feeling it pulse hard. Keith shuddered slightly. Their eyes were interlocked; nothing could have broken their gazes.

"I know that your heart is mine. Keith, I'd love you even if you could never fuck me again. I'd love you even if all I could ever do with you again was place my head on your chest and hear your heartbeat." As those words reached the man underneath him, he could feel the pumping muscle under his fingers skip a beat.

"Do you understand me?"

"I do," Keith spoke back to him, despite feeling speechless.

The two blinked for the first time in what felt like forever, and Mick leaned in for a deep kiss.