Chapter Six
Doug woke to the sounds of birds chirping, and he sat up, confused for a moment to find himself in the living room. He was alone in the bed. Stewart had left at some point while Doug was still sleeping. He glanced over at what had been Stewart’s pillow, a stab of longing and regret trying to take hold. He forced it back down, taking a deep breath.
I’m a big boy. I can handle it.
His own words came back to taunt him, daring him to disagree. Opting for the distraction of routine, he climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom, then moved to his bedroom to put on his running clothes. Then he went back into the living room and pulled the sheets and blankets off the sofa bed. Stewart’s intoxicating scent accosted his nostrils as he pulled off the pillowcase. With a determined chin, he took the bundle into the laundry room and loaded the washer. Tossing in a few other items, he poured in the soap and started the machine.
There. All gone. Washed away. No problem. He’d had terrible crushes before. They always faded after a while. It would be no different with this. He’d been through far worse in the past year than longing for a man he couldn’t have. This was child’s play. Piece of cake.
In the kitchen he chugged down some water, then grabbing his iPod, headed out the front door. Stopping on the front lawn, he used the porch steps to stretch his legs. His muscles were stiff and sore today, and he hurt in places that were usually immune to his workout.
Sex muscles.
Tossing Stewart’s ample body around had left its mark. He looked down at his groin as he felt his cock begin to swell. “Don’t you start,” he whispered. He continued stretching, forcing himself to think about dung and vomit and very old nuns, anything but last night. Eventually his cock complied, and eased back to softness.
He was stretching his hamstrings when he heard the shuffle of feet, close by. Someone coming down the driveway from the back. Doug froze, a flash of panic gripping him.
Cut the crap. If it’s him, you’ll smile and be casual. If it’s Corey, you’ll still smile and be casual. You made this bed. Now lie in it.
Jairo appeared at the corner of the house, his curly dark hair a crazy mess on his head. He focused on the ground as he shuffled down the driveway. His clothes were rumpled, jacket slung over his shoulder. Doug grinned, deciding to have a bit of fun with him.
“Well, well, well,” he said. “Lookit Jairo! Doin’ the walk of shame.”
Jairo jumped, head whipping around. His brown eyes widened when he saw Doug, and he walked over, a scowl forming on his brow. “Doug! What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m stalking you,” Doug said, bending his leg back to stretch his quad. “I followed you and Corey last night. Climbed up that tree right there and watched you guys go at it.”
Jairo’s mouth fell open and his arm dropped, his jacket dragging in the grass. “What?” He looked Doug over, then grinned. “You’re fucking with me. You’re not wearing the same clothes.”
Doug laughed. “Of course I’m fucking with you. How was your night?”
“Doug, what are you doing here?”
“I live here, actually,” he said. “This is my new place.”
“Cut the shit.”
Doug glanced behind him at the front door. “Right there. First floor. That’s me.”
“What?” Jairo laughed. “You’re serious. You live downstairs from Corey.”
“It was as much a surprise to me, believe me. Do you need me to give you a lift home?”
Jairo frowned at the house for a moment, then gave his head a quick shake. He looked exhausted and frazzled. “No, um, I don’t live far from here. Are you going down to the pond?”
“Yeah, gonna go for a run.”
“I’ll walk down with you.”
“Okie dokie.”
Jairo continued to drag his feet and hang his head as they walked down to the pond. When they got there, Doug sat on one of the benches beside the path, and Jairo plopped down next to him with a sigh.
“What’s up with you?” Doug asked. “Your night with Corey not go well?” Sure sounded like it was going well, he wanted to say, but held his tongue.
Jairo perked up. “No, no it went great, actually. Really good. He’s amazing. A little eccentric but...amazing. And the sex.” He looked at Doug. “Holy shit, Doug. This guy. The things he can do with his hands. It’s...magical. And he has the most perfect cock I’ve ever seen. He does this thing where—”
“Ah, ya, ya, I got it,” Doug said, holding a hand up. “I get the picture.”
Jairo chuckled. “Sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve met someone that hot.”
“I’m glad you had fun. So why do you look like someone ran over your grandmother?”
Jairo’s huge smile slid, and he pursed his lips. “Everything went great. After, you know, the sex, he told me I could spend the night, which I thought was encouraging. We exchanged numbers. He said he’d call me, yadda yadda. So I woke up this morning when I heard his roommate get home and go into the shower. Suddenly Corey sits up, hears the shower, and basically shoves me out of bed. He told me I had to leave, because Stewart was home, and Saturday morning was their time.”
Doug said nothing, but a fist of jealous twisted in his gut.
“Do you think that’s weird?” Jairo asked. “I suppose he’s just one of those guys that wants you out of there the next morning, so he made up some lame excuse.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
So Corey hadn’t told Jairo about Stewart. Jairo still thought Stewart was just Corey’s roommate. Doug felt bad for him, but figured it wasn’t his place to say anything. He’d only known Jairo a few hours longer than he’d known Stewart, it wasn’t like they were besties and he owed him his undying loyalty. Jairo had picked up a guy in a bar, there’d been no promises.
Just like him and Stewart. Of course Stewart had opted for honesty with Doug, but only after he discovered they were neighbors.
“I really like him,” Jairo said. “I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s really smart. I mean really smart. We hung out and talked for a long time before we even kissed. He knows about all sorts of shit, and he has all these talents and hobbies, a real renaissance man, you know?”
“Oh yeah?”
Jairo nodded. “I think we really made a connection. I’m sure he’ll call.” He chuckled and looked sheepishly at Doug. “Look at me, all sappy and love struck. Don’t tell your brother I’m such a romantic.”
Doug smiled. “My lips are sealed.”
Jairo stood and shook out his jacket, brushing grass off the sleeves. “I’ll let you get on with your run. Sorry to vent on you.” He chuckled.
“It’s fine,” Doug said. “You had some great sex, you’re entitled to be happy today.”
“Yeah,” he said, then his face turned thoughtful. “This is gonna sound soppy,” he said, “but I think I could really fall for this guy. I mean, who knows what’s gonna happen, but no harm in being hopeful, right?”
Doug stood. He frowned, putting his hands on his hips and looking down at the ground.
“What?” Jairo asked. “What’s the matter?”
Doug looked at him. “Okay, I can’t take this anymore, I’ve got to tell you.”
“Tell me...what?” Jairo asked carefully.
“Jairo, Corey has a boyfriend.”
He laughed. “No he doesn’t. How would you know that?”
“Because he crashed on my couch last night because he couldn’t go upstairs. It’s Stewart. They’re not just roommates.”
Jairo stared at him, eyes narrowed. “Stewart? I met Stewart last night. Corey introduced him as his roommate.”
“Yes, well be that as it may, they’re boyfriends. Live-in boyfriends. They have an open relationship.”
Jairo sat down on the bench, then squinted up at Doug. “Seriously?”
“On my life. I just thought you should know.”
Jairo chuckled. “Well, yeah. Information that would have been more useful last night. What the fuck? Seriously?”
Doug nodded. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “That lying son of a bitch. That is so uncool.”
“Well, you did pick him up in a bar. Buyer beware and all that.”
“No.” Jairo shook his head. “No, don’t make excuses for him, this is fucked up! He could have told me. He should have told me!”
“I’m sorry. If it’s any consolation, I’m as bummed out as you are. I really like Stewart.”
Jairo nodded glumly. “Right. Stewart. Celtics tee shirt guy. He’s...Corey’s boyfriend. Man, quite the operation they’ve got going, huh? They’re like...team slut. They’re like cock hustlers. They’re like...well, shit. There goes my good mood.”
“Just take it for what it was,” Doug said. “You still got laid, right?”
Jairo stood. “Yeah. Like I’ve never been laid before. I guess I should be happy. But I’m not.”
“Hey,” Doug said. “I’ll get your number from Wyatt. We’ll grab a drink or something this week, okay? We can toss a few back and bitch about it. You in?”
“Yeah, sure, I’m in. All right. Thanks, Doug. I’m glad you told me. I’ll talk to you this week, then.”
“Okay, take it easy, Jairo.”
Doug pushed himself hard on his run, lapping around the pond several times, his pace hard and fast. When he finished and made the trek back up his street toward home, he felt good. He decided to take his own advice, and be happy about what happened last night with Stewart, to take it for what it was—a night of fantastic sex with a really hot guy. No sense ruining it by pondering what could have been, and what would never be.
Once he got home, he headed to the spare room and lifted some weights, then attacked the punching bag for a while, working up another sweat. After showering, he ate a huge breakfast, then went back to his room and sat down at his desk. He wanted to check his work email, so he’d be prepared for what was waiting for him when he went back on Monday.
When he opened the laptop, he saw Corey’s beefcake photo, still on the screen from last night. He shook his head, chuckling softly. “Fuck off, Corey,” he whispered, and closed out the image.
He checked his email, then his phone. There was a message from his brother, Wyatt, inviting him to come by tomorrow for a ‘guys’ day’ to watch movies, as Beth was taking the baby to her parents’ house for an overnight. While Doug suspected it was another attempt at coddling by his big brother, he accepted, figuring it wouldn’t be a bad thing to spend his final Sunday off out of the house and away from the silent presence of Stewart and Corey.
As the morning wore into afternoon, he decided he should probably meditate. The vigorous exercise had left him feeling calm and refreshed, but he figured a bout of meditation couldn’t hurt either. He felt a sense of pride as he set up his candles and incense in the alcove room. He’d done it. He’d survived Harry and his pretty-boy fuck buddy, survived the lawsuit, and now he was out the other side. And while his encounter with Stewart hadn’t been all perfect love hearts and rainbows, he’d proven he could meet someone he liked, that he could be intimate with someone again. That he could move on.
He was spreading out his meditation cushion when he heard a knock.
He checked the candles to make sure they weren’t set near anything flammable, then went to answer the door. His stomach fluttered a little at the thought that it might be Stewart. The knock came again, and it was directly on his apartment door, not the outside door to the street, so it couldn’t really be anyone else.
Forcing his body to calm, he opened the door. And saw Corey.
“Hey, are you Doug?”
Corey’s ash blond hair was sleep rumpled, the entire image far less polished than he’d been last night at the bar. His voice was deeper than Doug expected, and didn’t match the annoying cackle he’d heard so often, or the throaty sexual cooing that drifted through his radiator. And Doug realized now he’d been wrong about Corey’s good looks being generic. Up close, he had a unique, striking handsomeness. He wore green hospital pants with sandals, a white tee shirt showing off his tan, toned biceps popping out beneath the sleeves. One arm rested on the door frame, a cell phone in his other hand.
While Doug knew he was looking at the same face in the beefcake poster he’d just seen on his computer, a few years had given it character. But it was the eyes that drew Doug’s focus, a pale mix of green and gray, sharp with intelligence. And while he didn’t know this man, he saw something in those eyes he didn’t like—a swimming anger in their depths.
“Yeah, I’m Doug,” he said, offering his hand. “Corey, right?”
Corey didn’t accept Doug’s outstretched hand. “Can I come in for a minute?”
Doug lowered his arm. “Um, sure.” He stepped back, opening the door. Corey stalked through it. Doug closed the door and scowled as he watched Corey move through the living room into his kitchen.
“Ah, what are you doing?” He followed, and saw Corey open one of his kitchen cabinets, then shut it.
Corey brushed past him without meeting his eyes, and walked back into the living room. He went to a closet, opened it, then slammed the door. He moved over to the sofa and crouched down, peeking underneath it.
Doug stepped cautiously over, frowning. “What are you looking for, Corey?”
Corey stood and finally met Doug’s eyes. “I’m looking for someone who knows how to mind his own fucking business. You seen anyone like that around here?”
Doug scowled up at him. Corey was a couple of inches taller than he was, and looked down at him with open contempt, his pale eyes lidded.
“What are you talking about?”
Corey held up his cell phone. “You know who just called me, Doug? Jairo. You know Jairo, don’t you?”
Doug’s shoulders sagged and he nodded his understanding. “Oh. Okay. Yeah.”
Corey nodded. “Yeah. Jairo. You know. Big smile? Sweet, chipper, walkin’ on sunshine Jairo? Well, guess what, Doug? Jairo’s not walkin’ on sunshine anymore. Now he’s mean, angry, name-calling Jairo. He’s pissed off, swearing, shouting at me Jairo.”
“Look,” Doug said, “here’s the thing—”
“I’m a nice guy, Doug. Everybody likes me. I’m not used to people yelling in my ear. But it’s funny. Yesterday I get a call from the landlord, Anna. She’s bitching at me because I’m disturbing Doug. I say who the fuck is Doug? She says the guy downstairs. Then today, I get a call from Jairo. He’s bitching at me because of something Doug said. So I say who the fuck is Doug? He says the guy that lives downstairs.”
“Look, Corey, just let me...can I talk for a second?”
“So then I’m having breakfast with my boyfriend, Stewart.”
Doug went still.
“Nothing ever affects Stewart’s good mood. He’s my laidback, corn-fed country boy. But suddenly he’s acting all anxious and twitchy and weird. So I ask what’s up. And he tells me he spent the night with Doug. Can you guess what I said?”
Doug sighed. “I’m guessing...who the fuck is Doug?”
“Well, look at that, he’s catching on. You might be smarter than you look. Tell me something, neighbor. Why is it that everyone you come in contact with ends up arguing with me? I mean look at me. This isn’t me. I’m peaceful. I’m a healer. I heal. You on the other hand, you infect. You infect everyone with your...” He waved a hand in front of his face. “Your bad energy. I can feel it coming off you in waves.”
Doug frowned. This guy seemed a little off the rails. He took a step back, away from him. “Look, Corey, I’m sorry about the landlord, and I’m sorry about Jairo. We just started talking, and—”
“And you decided it was your fucking business to throw me under the bus,” Corey said. “Tell me Doug, did I wrong you in another life or something? Have we met before and I don’t recall? Is that what this is about? Did I hump you and dump you? I don’t think so. I would have remembered you. Because you’re pretty hot, I can see now.” He paused, looking Doug over. “It’s a bit distracting actually. But back to why I’m here. About Stewart.”
Doug felt the first fingers of annoyance traveling up his spine, making his temples throb. He was losing patience with this smug shit. He counted to ten in his mind, breathing slowly through his nose. “What about Stewart?”
“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page,” Corey said. “Whatever happened between you two...whatever. I’m cool with it. I’m sure you like him. What’s not to like? But you live downstairs, and this isn’t a sitcom. I don’t want you popping upstairs the minute I leave the house, trying to get in my boyfriend’s pants. We’re not Laverne and Shirley, we don’t need some Squiggy character invading our space and thinking he’s got some right to get in our business. Though you probably don’t even know who Laverne and Shirley are. You look awful butch. You’re all football and beer nuts, aren’t ya?”
“Okay, listen—”
“No you listen. I don’t know you, but I don’t like you. I don’t know what you’re thinking about Stewart. But just so we’re clear, it’s not gonna happen again. Capisce?”
Doug took a deliberate step closer to Corey, invading his space. “Are you finished? Can I talk now?”
Corey narrowed his eyes. “If you must.”
“The landlord called you because your loud parties were keeping me up at night, and I can’t sleep. So try to keep it down. I told Jairo you had a boyfriend because he was going on and on about your magic hands and your golden cock and how sparkly butterflies come out your ass when you take a dump. I thought it was the right thing to do, letting him know the guy he had love hearts in his eyes for was unavailable. It was a judgment call and I stand by it. And I get TV Land, so I know who Laverne and Shirley are. But I’m not Squiggy. If anything I’m Carmine. Lastly, if you want to talk to me in the future, you can show me some respect. If not, then keep your pretty face out of mine, and stay the fuck out of my way. Capisce?”
Corey remained silent for a long moment, then frowned. “Are you burning frankincense?”
Doug shook his head. “What?”
“I smell frankincense.” Corey turned and moved off, heading down Doug’s hallway.
Doug stared after him. “What is with this guy,” he muttered.
“Oh my God!” Corey shouted.
Doug moved down the hall and found Corey standing in the alcove room, looking down at his meditation set up. He turned and gaped at Doug. “You meditate here?”
Doug shrugged. “Yeah.”
“I use this for a meditation room in my apartment. Directly above here. This explains so much.”
Doug stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Without warning, Corey reached out and placed a hand on Doug’s shoulder. Abruptly, he pulled it back, shaking his fingers out. “Yikes. You need to sort that shit out. You’re all blocked up inside. I can help you with that anger, if you want to book a massage.”
“Yeah. No thanks.”
“Fine, then will you move your meditation to another room? The spare room maybe? I’d do it but I’ve got all my massage stuff in there, it won’t fit anywhere else.”
Doug shook his head. “No. I’m not moving anything.”
Corey’s jaw tightened. “Great. That’s great. Just go ahead and send your bad energy wafting up through the floor into my space. Look at me, Doug. Do you see how agitated I am? I can’t be like this. My job requires me to be a peaceful vessel. Now you show up and you’re affecting everything.”
Doug just stared at him, scowling.
Corey shuddered visibly, rubbing his arms. “I have to get out of here, go for a walk. I need to air myself out.”
And then he left, storming back down the hallway and out the door, slamming it behind him. Doug drifted into the living room and stared at the closed door. He turned away, running fingers through his hair. “Son of a bitch.”
His head was still spinning from Corey’s visit when another knock came on his door. He pulled it open. “What?” he snapped.
Stewart stood there in jeans and a red tee shirt, his eyes wide with surprise. He held a small cardboard box under one arm. Damn. He was even sexier than Doug remembered. “Oh, it’s you. Sorry. Come in.”
Stewart stepped inside and closed the door gently behind him. “Was Corey just down here? I thought I heard him yelling through the floor.”
Doug chuckled. “Yes, yes he was.”
Stewart glanced around the apartment. “Is he still here?”
“No, he left. He’s airing himself out.”
“Ah, shit,” Stewart said. “That’s never a good sign.” He moved over to the sofa and sat down, setting the box on the floor. Leaning over and linking his hands, he looked up at Doug. “What did he say to you?”
Doug chuckled softly and moved to stand in front of Stewart. “You left a little something out when you told me about Corey, didn’t you, Stewart?”
Stewart blinked, then shook his head. “What do you mean, what did I leave out?”
“Oh I don’t know. Maybe that he’s a big ball of fucking crazy!”
Stewart grinned. “Corey’s not crazy.”
“Oh no? He thinks I’m beaming bad energy up through the floor to fuck with him. He is out of his fucking mind.”
Stewart smirked, then started to laugh, his shoulders jerking.
“I’m glad this amuses you.”
“I’m sorry,” Stewart said. “He’s not mad at you, he’s mad at me.”
Doug took a seat in the chair next to the sofa. “That’s generous of you, but I’m pretty sure he’s mad at me. I told Jairo he had a boyfriend, Jairo called Corey, Corey freaked out and breathed fire all over me.”
Stewart shook his head. “He just feels threatened by you.”
“I don’t get it.” Doug shook his head. “I do not get you guys. He lets you sleep with other people all the time, right? Why would he be threatened by me?”
Stewart grinned sheepishly. Doug tried not to drool over his dimples. “It’s kind of my fault. I told Corey I thought we should invite you out with us some night.”
Doug met Stewart’s eyes, and felt that electric jolt, the sexual tension that plagued him all last night. “Why would you want me to go out with the two of you? That’s...a little weird.”
“No, I don’t mean just with us. I mean go out, you know with everyone, meet our friends. I told him you’re a good guy, and with you living downstairs and all, we should get to know you. Be friends.”
Doug smiled. “The F-word.”
“No, but I mean it, I meant just friends, you know? I figured that would sort of normalize things, take away any weirdness caused by...by us being together. But he took it the wrong way.” He shook his head. “Boy, did he.”
“How did he take it wrong?”
Stewart sighed. “He thinks I’m using it as an excuse to keep you in my life, that I’m trying to bring a third party into our relationship and blah, blah, blah. Which is fucking stupid, Corey’s slept with half our friends, and we see them all the time. We’ve had similar arguments in the past, about his double standard. But the truth is...” He glanced at Doug. “The truth is I don’t fool around that much. So when I do, Corey always gets a little out of whack.”
Doug laughed. “Um, yeah. I’d say that’s a double standard.”
Stewart chuckled, rolling his eyes. “I know, I know. Corey’s great most of the time. I mean, if you got to know him, you’d like him, really. But when he gets immature, he goes full throttle. The Jairo thing isn’t what set him off. It was me. We were fighting about my bad decision to sleep with the neighbor...” He winced at Doug. “Sorry.”
Doug waved him off, though the bad decision comment stung a bit.
“So I asked him what I could do to make it okay. That’s when I suggested we all go out sometime. But Corey was still in bitch mode, so he says if he sleeps with you too, that will make it okay.”
Doug burst out laughing. “Oh, really?”
Stewart nodded. “I told him no. That it would bother me.”
Doug held Stewart’s gaze. “You did?”
“Yeah. That’s when he stormed out of the apartment. I had no idea he was coming down here to talk to you. I’m sorry, Doug. I never meant for you to get pulled into our stupid drama.”
Doug didn’t know what to say. He wanted to ask why it would bother Stewart, if it was about his feelings for Corey...or his feelings for Doug. If he had any. But he bit his tongue. This was all far too complicated. He didn’t need this kind of chaos in his life.
Yet still, Stewart was gazing at him with that soft expression he’d had last night, and it made Doug’s heart flutter. He wanted to think Stewart felt something for him. And that wasn’t good, because hell, Stewart’s baggage had baggage. Doug knew the wise thing would be to detach emotionally. To stay the hell away from Stewart, no matter how badly he wanted to grab him and kiss him right now. So he let it drop.
“What’s in the box?” he asked.
Stewart perked up. “Oh, I brought you something.” He picked up the box and pulled out a white, plastic thing that looked like a radio. “It’s a sound machine. It’s Corey’s, but he doesn’t use it anymore. It’s kind of old school, but you said you couldn’t sleep with music, so I thought this might do the trick.”
Doug moved over to the sofa and sat beside him. “I haven’t seen one of these in a while.”
“I figured it might solve your radiator problem. See it’s got white noise, ocean waves, all that bullshit. Give it a try, if you don’t want it, just toss it. As I said, Corey doesn’t use it anymore.”
Doug took it from his hands. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
He turned his head and looked at Stewart. They sat close, thighs barely touching. Doug could smell his soapy scent, and the deeper aroma of his body. Stewart stared back at him for a long moment, then abruptly stood. “I better go.”
He walked quickly to the door, and Doug stood. “Thanks for the sound machine.”
“No problem.” Then he was out the door and gone without looking back.
Doug glanced at the sound machine in his hands, then back at the closed door. He shook his head. “Weird fucking couple.”
When he got ready for bed that night, he plugged in the sound machine, testing out the various settings. The white noise he disregarded immediately. It sounded like the fuzz of a television off broadcast, and made him think of the movie Poltergeist. That would just give him nightmares. He finally settled on a bubbling brook, and turned it up loud.
The sound was soothing, and not too distracting. He was able to settle in and relax in bed without hearing any noise coming from the radiator. Whether it was the sound machine blocking it out, he couldn’t be sure. But a part of him hoped that the silence was because Corey and Stewart simply weren’t having sex. It was a spiteful thought, but he allowed it to remain, even entertaining fleeting thoughts of stealing Stewart way from Corey. Corey and his magical hands.
I can help you with that anger...
He thought about Corey’s words, the way he’d touched Doug’s shoulder. He quickly dismissed any consideration that Corey actually had a gift. It was more likely that Stewart had told Corey all about Doug and his problematic year. He had mentioned his anger problems to Stewart. The thought irritated him. He’d expected that what they discussed last night was done in confidence.
As he drifted off, he caught the vague mumble of voices coming through the radiator, but with the sound machine, it was barely audible. Though he did note the tone—it sounded like an argument.
Unlike the partying and the sex noises, Doug found the arguing somewhat comforting. He tucked his arms under his pillow, and drifted off to sleep.