Addiction

by Roberta Blablanski

  Now, Owen couldn’t read Dex, didn’t know if Dex felt the same deep smolder that Owen felt in his gut of his love and desire rekindling. Owen wanted Dex; what did Dex want?

  Owen had been a right asshole to Dex, taking advantage of his generosity and ruining everything in return. He learned in rehab to work on forgiving himself and asking for forgiveness from the people he hurt. But he also learned that not everyone would forgive him. Would Dex forgive him? Better question, did he deserve Dex’s forgiveness?

  He wanted Dex to see the positive changes he was making and come to the conclusion on his own that Owen was worth forgiving. He wanted Dex to love him like he did before, to see that Owen could be the person worthy of Dex.

  At this very moment, he wanted to stare at Dex, who looked relaxed in worn jeans made for his long legs and a Violent Femmes t-shirt. Dex was in his summer clothes, much different from his school clothes. Owen loved both versions. Dex wearing his teacher outfit of slacks and button up shirt, sometimes with a tie, made Owen’s mouth water. Dex in comfortable, worn clothing made Owen want to rub his face into the soft fabric of his well-loved shirt...and rub other body parts.

  “Helloooooo??? Are you listening?” Sammy’s voice jolted Owen out of his daydreaming. “While you two are eye fucking each other, I’m trying to get a plan in place for your arrival to my humble abode.”

  “I was not-” Owen started.

  “That wasn’t-” Dex interjected at the same time.

  Owen felt heat crawling up the back of his neck and around to his cheeks. He chanced a side glance to find Dex blushing, too. Oh. Was Dex daydreaming of me like I was of him?

  Owen was encouraged by the possibility of Dex returning his feelings, his desire and longing, but how should he play this? Should he wait for Dex to make a move, or should Owen lay it all on the line so there was no question of intentions?

  Owen mentally shook his head and admonished himself. You’re still in recovery. Don’t mistake Dex’s kindness for something more because that’s all it is…kindness.

  Owen squinted at Sammy. “What is there to plan? You pick me up and take me to your condo. What else do you think is required?”

  Sammy huffed. “Fine, then. I will dump you and your things unceremoniously in the spare room and pretend you’re not there.” He stuck his nose in the air and huffed again.

  Owen shared a look with Dex. They didn’t break eye contact for several seconds until Sammy let out an exasperated humph and mumbled something about sexual tension. Owen kept his gaze averted from Dex’s side of the table until they left.

  * * * * *

  Today was Owen’s graduation day. That’s how he’d been thinking about his last day in rehab. He completed all ninety days and was proud he could tell the world he was three months sober. The rehab facility didn’t have official ceremonies to celebrate such milestones. Certificates were issued, and any paperwork required by the court for those who were ordered by a judge to complete rehab, but it was all done as part of the routine as if it were just another day.

  In fact, Ivan’s departure two months ago after a whole year was met with little fanfare. There were happy tears from Mercy and a sad little slice of hospital cafeteria yellow sheet cake during group therapy. Ivan hugged everyone, squeezing Owen a bit tighter than the others. Owen regretted not being able to get him a parting gift. Hell, he didn’t even have a cell phone to exchange numbers with Ivan. Still, Ivan wrote down his phone number and new address and made Owen promise to reach out to him when Owen had a cell phone.

  Owen expected much less today, his last day. Ivan had been a fixture in the facility for a year. In comparison, Owen was a flash in the pan, just one of the many bodies that floated in and out of the program. He was okay with that.

  He got his round of hugs and a black folder embossed with the facility’s logo. Inside he found his ninety-day completion certificate and a brochure with a list of resources ranging from housing to employment services to locations of NA meetings.

  It was late afternoon by the time he signed all the paperwork and said all his goodbyes. Sammy was waiting for him at reception, and he noted the small duffel bag in Owen’s hand. “Is that it?”

  “If you thought I had more bags, why didn’t you meet me in my room to help carry them?”

  “And ruin my manicure? No, sweetie.” He flashed his hands at Owen, the clear polish catching in the fluorescent lighting.

  “Diva,” Owen muttered under his breath as he walked past Sammy who was examining his nails. He was like a dog, easily distracted by shiny things.

  Later that night, Sammy tucked Owen into bed, smoothing out the blanket and fluffing up his pillows.

  “I’m not an invalid, Sammy. Or a child,” Owen chided him good-naturedly.

  Sammy leaned over and placed a soft kiss to Owen’s forehead. “You are delicate and should be treated with care. Let me have this, sweetie. Being able to take care of you is my penance.”

  Owen would give him this. No amount of protesting would change Sammy’s mind that he held some accountability for Owen’s addiction. They would work on it, and one day, Owen would help Sammy see how he had done Owen more good than harm.

  Owen pulled Sammy down into a hug. “I love you, Sammy.”

  Sammy smoothed back the hair on Owen’s forehead. “Love you, too.” He quietly shut the door behind him and left Owen to the tranquil darkness.

  The bed was luxurious and possibly the best bed Owen ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. Sammy enjoyed the finer things in life and cut no corners when decorating and furnishing his condo. Owen curled onto his side, buried his face into a thick pillow, and sank into the soft mattress.

  For the first time since he was evicted from his apartment, Owen felt some semblance of normalcy and a sense of purpose. He almost felt...calm and peaceful.

  Earlier in the day, he’d made a to-do list of goals he needed to achieve now that he was given a fresh start and the tools to piece his life back together. The first item on his list was to find a job. He had several challenges ahead to accomplish this, what with the practically year-long gap of unemployment generating a crater in the middle of his resume.

  Before he could further contemplate his future career goals, his eyes drifted shut, and he was lulled to sleep by the city traffic outside the bedroom window.

  * * * * *

  Breakfast the next morning was a grand affair. Sammy had the bar in his kitchen covered in a variety of dishes, from velvety scrambled eggs to fresh fruit. Owen picked up a plate from the counter and stacked a couple pancakes and a few slices of crispy bacon on it. Sammy was already at the table with a glass of water and small bowl of half-eaten plain yogurt. Owen helped himself to the pitcher of orange juice, pouring a full glass and drinking half of it in two huge gulps. He could get used to this.

  “Did you sleep well, sweetie?” Sammy topped off Owen’s juice glass.

  Owen stretched his arms behind his back, the pop of his vertebrae loud enough to be heard over the classical music playing from the speakers mounted at the corners of the ceiling. Since when did Sammy listen to classical music?

  “I slept wonderfully. The best sleep I’ve gotten in gods know how long.” Owen drizzled syrup over his pancakes and noticed Sammy grimace. “Was I not supposed to get a good night’s sleep?” Owen was sure anyone would want their houseguest to be comfortable, so what was with Sammy’s reaction?

  “Of course, of course!” Sammy assured him with a conviction that didn’t match his expression.

  “Then what’s with the look? I said I slept well, and you gave me stinkface.” Owen cut a good-sized triangle out of his stack of pancakes and drizzled more syrup over the piece on his fork.

  “For the love of Judy Garland, Owen! Do you really need that much syrup?! Do you know how many calories are in one – just one! – teaspoon of maple syrup?” Sammy clapped his hand over his mouth, and his face turned red.

  Owen paused with his fork suspended between his mouth and plate. He looke
d down at the pool of syrup on his plate and back up at Sammy. “How else am I supposed to eat pancakes?”

  Sammy grumbled and spooned yogurt into his mouth. “Eat your pancakes and be quiet.”

  “Whatever you say, Grumpy Goose.” Owen chuckled when Sammy stuck out his tongue. “Do you get a newspaper? I want to start the job hunt, and I figured the classifieds were as good a place as any.”

  “Sweetie, no classified ads for you. You never know what you’re getting into. My cousin answered an ad for a delivery driver and when he got to the warehouse for an interview, it was actually a skeevy, backwoods porn studio looking for fresh skin. The director wanted him to play a delivery driver in the film. I told him no legitimate employer would ask for a full body shot and medical history.”

  Owen choked on his juice. “I don’t think that’s a thing,” he coughed.

  Sammy arched an eyebrow. “You want to take your chances?”

  “I guess not.” Sammy might have a point. Best to play it safe. “Okay, then I’ll update my resume today and send it to the employment agency Monique recommended. Can I use your laptop?”

  Sammy blurted out the words so fast that Owen almost didn’t catch what he said. “Come back to the hotel.”

  Owen’s jaw dropped. “I can’t do that! You fired me!”

  “Technically, I laid you off…according to the official paperwork in your file.”

  “You lied?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a lie as much as a slight fib. Owen, I knew deep in my soul that you were going to come back, and I wanted to make sure you had a place to come back to.” Sammy pressed a fist to chest over his heart.

  Owen had a hard time ignoring Sammy’s pleading, just as he had back when Sammy begged him to help out with Gaymer Date Nights.

  “You’re doing too much! First, you offer me a place to stay, and now you’re giving me my job back?”

  What had Owen done to earn Sammy’s generosity and kindness? He must have been a saint in a former life, and by some reincarnation magic, got to reap the benefits in this one. He’d bet anyone else would be skeptical of a former friend who’d mistreated their loved ones. He would repay Sammy in some way to show his appreciation for his thoughtfulness.

  “You’re not actually getting your old job back. You’ll be starting at entry level again, and with that comes entry level pay. I’m not handing everything to you on a silver platter, sweetie.”

  Gratitude and joy swelled in his chest. “Okay, I’ll take the job for now. But I’m still going to apply for others. I’m not going to ride your coattails forever.” Owen winked so Sammy knew he was teasing.

  “Now that that’s sorted, get ready. Your shift starts in an hour!”

  15

  DEX

  DEX WAS NERVOUS FOR OWEN. The first day of Leroy's trial was today, and Owen was set to testify.

  Sammy called him last night, asking Dex to accompany Owen to court. Owen was insisting on going alone, but Sammy didn't like the sound of his voice.

  "I called to check in on him, and he says he's fine, but you know how he is. He won't admit he needs us. I would have skipped the conference if I could."

  "He understands you have work commitments. It's not like you planned to be out of town the week of the trial. I'll pick him up from your place in the morning before he has a chance to catch the bus."

  "You are marvelous, Dexter. How can I ever repay you?"

  “By using my correct name.”

  Sammy laughed loudly in his ear, smacked a kiss, and hung up.

  Owen was startled to find Dex waiting for him the lobby of Sammy’s building, but he went along with Dex with no complaints. The suit he was wearing looked amazing on his body, and Dex had to stop himself from dragging Owen back up to Sammy’s apartment. He wanted to take his time peeling off each piece of clothing to reveal the familiar body underneath.

  Instead, Dex held his hand during the drive, silently offering his encouragement. They checked in with Whitney when they arrived and settled onto a bench outside the courtroom.

  Dex did his best to distract Owen by showing him funny memes on his cell phone. Owen’s knee bounced with increasing speed the longer they sat. He pulled on his collar and managed to undo his tie. “Dammit,” Owen muttered, the two ends of the tie gripped in his hands.

  “Let me.” Dex coaxed the material from Owen’s hands and expertly tied it back into place. He smoothed his hand down the length of the tie, savoring the feel of Owen’s body through his shirt. Owen’s breath hitched, and he took his bottom lip between his teeth.

  Dex zeroed in on those lips, remembering their taste and feel. No other’s kiss was marked on his memory like Owen’s.

  I could kiss you right here.

  The door to the courtroom opened, and Whitney’s heels clacking on the tile floor alerted them to her presence. “The DA is calling you next. Ready?”

  Dex jerked his hand away from Owen, and Owen stood up instantly. He rubbed his hands on his thighs and had a pinched expression on his face. “Does it matter if I’m not?”

  “You’ll do fine. The trial is going in our favor.” Whitney linked her arm through his and led him into the courtroom.

  Dex opened his Kindle and waited.

  * * * * *

  Dex stood back as the legal team rallied around Owen. He watched Officer Linden give Owen a one-armed, back slapping hug. Whitney sported a huge grin and chucked him on the chin. They exchanged a few more words, and then Owen made his way over to Dex.

  Dex threw an arm around Owen's shoulders, tucking Owen into his side. They stayed connected until they got outside.

  "How do you feel?"

  “I, um…” Owen squinted at the cracks in the sidewalk, avoiding Dex’s eyes. “I don’t think I want to be alone for the rest of the day. Do you think...maybe…?”

  Dex didn’t need Owen to finish his question. He saw the lines of tension in Owen’s face and the shaking of his hands. Owen was practically vibrating with anxiety. He wanted to pull Owen into his arms and held him until the shaking stopped and the tension faded away. Instead, he could offer a sanctuary of sorts.

  “Want to come over to my apartment? We could watch Netflix and order takeout.”

  Owen lifted his gaze to Dex’s. The crease between his eyebrows had disappeared, and Dex felt relief. Relief that he said the right thing. Relief that he could still read Owen so well.

  Don’t get ahead of yourself, Dex. Owen needs a friend. You can be that for him.

  “Yeah,” Owen agreed, a smile growing on his face. “That sounds great. Um, but…can we not watch The Great British Bake-Off?”

  Dex scoffed playfully. “What do you have against my favorite show?”

  Owen’s smile widened. “C’mon now! Seeing all those yummy desserts makes me hungry. Since living with Sammy, I’ve gained about ten pounds!”

  “You look good.” Owen blushed. “I mean,” Dex backtracked, embarrassed that he so freely revealed his attraction without the certainty of Owen returning his feelings. “You were too skinny in the hospital. Now you look healthy.”

  Owen rubbed at his stomach. “I’ve gotten somewhat of a belly, though. No one finds love handles attractive.”

  I find you attractive with or without love handles.

  Dex removed the sunglasses hanging from his shirt collar and put them on to distract himself from saying more of his rampant thoughts aloud. “Well, there are all types of people in this world, and everyone is attracted to something.” What the fuck are you talking about, Dex? “I get to pick dinner if you get to choose what we watch. How about it?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Owen chose Jane the Virgin, and Dex ordered Chinese food. Living in a studio apartment, Dex’s couch also served as his bed. He pulled out the couch, grabbed extra pillows and blankets from the linen closet, and settled in next to Owen.

  Dex noticed Owen had made himself comfortable; his jacket, shirt, and pants were draped on a chair, leaving him in a white undershirt and, Dex
assumed, his boxers. Owen is in his underwear, in my bed. He mentally fist pumped the air in jubilation at this turn of events. He needed to sit down before the giddy lightheadedness caused by Owen’s near nakedness made him faint.

  It was easy to imagine they were still together, that Owen never had a drug problem and they never broke up. It could be another ordinary day in the life of Dex and Owen. Owen laughed at something on the television, and Dex smiled. He’d missed Owen’s laugh. For too long it seemed there was no joy in Owen.

  After three or four episodes, Dex found himself cuddling under the covers with Owen. Owen’s head was resting on Dex’s shoulder, and Dex’s hand was in his hair. Owen let out a yawn and rubbed his face into Dex’s chest.

  “Oh, sorry!” Owen sat up with a start. “I guess I’m more tired than I thought.” A blush spread up his neck as two pink spots appeared on his cheeks. He was adorable.

  “We should probably get some sleep. I have school in the morning.”

  “You’re okay with me spending the night?” Owen looked uncertain, and that nearly broke Dex’s heart all over again. Would Owen ever be comfortable around him?

  Dex reached over and stroked Owen’s cheek. “I’m more than okay with you spending the night.” He meant to be reassuring; however, judging by the lust in Owen’s eyes, he’d had a different effect.

  Owen turned his head, placing a kiss to Dex’s hand. The feel of Owen’s lips on his skin ignited a fire in Dex’s body. The heat from Owen’s display of affection traveled a tingling path up his arm and directly to his cock.

  With one swift movement, Owen straddled Dex’s waist and took his mouth in a scorching kiss. The press of Owen’s groin to his thickening cock and the slide of Owen’s tongue against his released an animalist groan from deep in Dex’s throat.

  Owen hastily removed his shirt and scrambled at Dex’s. Dex got the hint and removed his shirt, too. Their chests connected as they dove into more kisses.

  “I want you,” Owen moaned hoarsely into Dex’s mouth.