Chapter Eleven
They rode in Stewart’s van, which smelled vaguely like gasoline. Things rattled in the back as they made their way home, and Doug stole glances at Stewart’s profile as he drove. Stewart looked furious, his jaw held tight, breathing through his nose.
“I’ve had it with him,” Stewart said after a long silence.
Doug looked at him. “Zach?”
“No. Zach’s a pain in the ass, but he’s just a kid. This is Corey’s fault. It’s always Corey’s fault, and I’ve had it. Fucking had it.”
Doug faced front, wary to interject while Stewart was so agitated.
“Okay, I probably shouldn’t have called Zach a cunt, but if Corey hadn’t...” He glanced at Doug. “Corey can’t keep making bad decisions like this. Look what happened to you, right? Your lawsuit? There are consequences to our actions.”
“Well, Zach did hit Corey,” Doug said. “He was out of control.”
“Zach’s a kid,” Stewart repeated. “A kid who’s in love with Corey, and Corey knew this. He fucking knew it. And he slept with him anyway. All his talk about being careful and avoiding emotional attachments. But no, the rules don’t apply when it comes to Corey.”
Doug figured it was a bad time to remind Stewart that he too had crossed the line by sleeping with Doug a second time. And like it or not, Doug was beginning to become emotionally attached. Whether Stewart knew this or not was hard to say. But he didn’t think Stewart’s comment about being confused, especially since meeting Doug, was exactly what you’d call cautious.
But Stewart had a point. Zach was a kid. Doug was a grown man who accepted the consequences of his actions. And Zach had obviously shown signs of obsession before Corey decided to grace him with his magical cock.
Stewart reached over and took Doug’s hand. “I’m sorry I vented on you. I’ll stop now. I know you don’t want to hear this shit.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Doug said. “It’s been a weird night.”
“I feel bad, though,” Stewart said, giving Doug’s hand a squeeze. “You got hurt because of me.”
“That’s not true. I’m the one who tried to stop Zach. He looked like he was about to take your head off, and he would have regretted it. I did it for him as much as you. Though my good intentions backfired,” he said. “Maybe Corey’s right, I need to learn to mind my own fucking business.”
Stewart smiled at him, then turned his eyes back on the road. “You’re a really good guy, Doug,” Stewart said. “You shouldn’t get down on yourself about things so much.”
“I don’t,” Doug said. “Not really.”
“You feel guilty about us, though. I can tell.” Stewart kept his eyes forward but gave Doug’s hand another squeeze. “I wish you wouldn’t.”
Doug glanced at him, then down at their linked hands, feeling surreal. Us? Sure, Doug had a bit of guilt about sleeping with Stewart again after Corey asked them not to. But it might have been easier to brush off if he were certain it was just sex, a mistake made in the heat of runaway passion. But the way Stewart was treating him, holding his hand, telling him how good he looked in the bar, it made Doug feel like they were dating.
Cheater! His conscience taunted him. You’re a big fat cheater, just like Harry!
When they got back to the house, all Doug wanted was to go to bed, but when Stewart pleaded with him to come up for just one drink, he couldn’t refuse, so he followed him up the stairs to the apartment he shared with Corey.
Music and laughter greeted them inside, people spread out in the living room and huddled in the kitchen. Corey sat on the kitchen counter, still in his glam rock getup, though he’d cleaned the makeup off his eyes—most likely to better exhibit the small shiner on his left cheekbone. People cooed over his injury, and Corey accepted the sympathy, making jokes and basking in the attention. The whole scene reminded Doug of the first time he’d seen Corey at Bernie’s, sitting on a table, surrounded by admirers.
“Hey, baby, come here,” Corey called out to Stewart, but Stewart ignored him, pretending he hadn’t heard.
“There’s beer in the fridge,” Stewart said to Doug. “Grab me one?”
Doug opened the fridge and bent over, when a sharp pain shot through his back. He winced, straightening up. He stretched, then tried again, and this time was able to grab two beers. Leaving Corey and his subjects in the kitchen, he wandered into the living room and joined Stewart and several others. Stewart slid over and patted the spot beside him on the brown leather sofa. When Doug tried to sit down, his back began to throb painfully.
He winced. “I think I’m gonna go downstairs to bed, Stewart.”
Stewart looked up, frowning. “Already?”
“I have to work tomorrow, and my back is starting to hurt.”
“Oh, shit. Are you okay?”
“I will be. Just need to lie down.”
Stewart stood up. “I’ll walk you down.”
Doug nodded. “Okay.”
Stewart followed him down the stairs. In the foyer, Doug pulled out his keys, then turned to Stewart. “Okay, well, it was...fun. Sort of.”
Stewart chuckled softly. “Yeah. Sort of.” He moved closer to Doug, crowding his space until he was forced to step back against the door. Then Stewart leaned in and kissed him.
Doug froze, but Stewart’s tongue, that delicious warm body pressed against him, it sent his head spinning, and soon his lips were opening, breath leaking out of him in a hiss of surrender.
Stewart deepened the kiss, then Doug felt a hand on his groin, gliding over his growing erection. He stopped Stewart’s hand. “Don’t,” he said, breathing heavily. “Corey’s right upstairs.”
“I don’t care,” Stewart said and leaned into him again, capturing his mouth.
The kiss made Doug forget himself again, but only for a moment. Placing his hands on Stewart’s shoulders, he gently pushed him back. “Stewart,” he said. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”
“But I want to keep doing this to you,” Stewart whispered against his lips.
“You’re mad at Corey. Don’t take it out on me. It’s not fair. To either of us.”
Stewart’s fingers stroked Doug’s cheek. “You didn’t care about Corey before. What’s going on? Don’t you want me anymore?”
Doug stared back at him. He uttered a short, breathy laugh. “That’s irrelevant.”
“Why?”
“Because you have a boyfriend. But you’re treating me like there’s something between us.”
Stewart sighed and released Doug’s face, his eyelids lowering. After a moment, he met Doug’s eyes again. “There is something between us. Isn’t there?”
Doug shook his head. “You can’t have two boyfriends. Not if one of them is me.”
Stewart held his gaze. “I know.” He sighed and nodded. “I know that.”
Doug raised his eyebrows. “Then stop.”
“What do you want?” Stewart asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do, Doug. What do you want? From me.”
Doug’s face heated. He hadn’t expected this. What exactly was Stewart asking him? And what did he want?
“I don’t know, Stewart, but I know what I don’t want,” he said finally. “I don’t want to be your side dish. And I don’t want to be your rebound.” He winced as pain lanced his back, and he reached around, rubbing it.
“I understand. I do.” Stewart stepped back. “Go rest your back. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Doug paused, then nodded.
“Okay,” Stewart said. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” Doug unlocked his door and went inside, hearing Stewart clomp back up the stairs. He leaned against the door after closing it. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, his cock still alert and throbbing in his pants. “This guy’s gonna be the death of me.”
He went to the bathroom, popped a couple of aspirin and climbed into bed. His back pain eased somewhat once he was lying down. As music drifted down from above, he realized he’d forgotten to turn on his sound machine. Damn it. He sat up carefully and swung his legs over the side of the bed, then paused when he heard Corey’s voice through the radiator.
“I’m sorry! Stewart, come on. Baby...”
Stewart’s voice responded in a low, indecipherable mumble.
Then Doug heard Corey again.
“I said I’m sorry. Just come here. Why won’t you let me touch you?”
Doug urged himself to get out of bed and turn on the machine, to blot out their voices. But he remained, staring at the radiator. He heard Corey’s voice again, but couldn’t make out the words, as they were soft, cooing. His jaw tightened when Stewart’s familiar laugh filtered through.
“I love you.” Corey’s voice came through clearly that time.
Doug held his breath. Then Stewart’s voice responded.
“Love you too.”
Doug stood and ambled over to the sound machine. He turned on the bubbling brook, and raised the volume high. Climbing back into bed, he hugged his pillow. The sound machine blotted out any further voices from the radiator.
For the first time in ages, real anger took hold. He was angry at Stewart, but angrier with himself. He determined right then that he would unravel himself from whatever strange relationship he was forming with Stewart.
“That’s it,” he whispered in the darkness. “No more.” He took a deep breath and willed sleep to take him down. “No more.”