Red laughed again, shaking his head. “Come on, man. I know what you’ve been through over the last forty-eight hours. Sit down. Rest. There’s no bed in your room, but if you’d rather not nap on the couch, you can take mine. I have a shift in, like, an hour anyway. We can figure out rent stuff later.”
Andy felt his heart swell in his chest. He hadn’t expected to run into so much kindness today, and he was just now realizing how tired and stressed he was. It was all he could do not to burst into grateful tears and make everything weird between them.
“The couch is fine,” he said. As tempting as the offer of a bed was, he didn’t intend to impose on his first day. Having somewhere to pause and catch his breath, somewhere he felt secure, was enough.
He felt secure around Red. Red had already saved his life once, and they’d never even met at the time.
The fact that he’d ended up on this particular doorstep felt like fate. Andy hated to attribute things he didn’t understand to mystical forces, but this… coincidence didn’t quite seem to cover it.
Somehow, he’d gotten exactly what he needed. The one place in the world where he’d feel the safest had happened to have a spare room. After losing pretty much everything he had in the space of just a few minutes, getting to live with the person who’d saved him was exactly what he needed to get back to normal.
“Well, there’s… half a loaf of bread on the counter and peanut butter in the fridge, if you’re hungry. We’ll figure out dividing up fridge and pantry space tomorrow, or whenever you’re ready.”
Andy bit his lip. Red was being so kind to him, so good, without having any idea whether Andy deserved it or not.
He supposed that was the kind of personality you needed when you saved people for a living.
“Thank you. I’d actually really like to take that nap.”
“No problem.” Red headed over to a key rack on the wall and took one off it, holding it out to Andy. “This is for you. I’ll probably be gone by the time you wake up.”
“Thanks.” Andy took the key, turning it over in his hand.
He turned to look, for the first time, at the apartment he’d just agreed to live in.
It was… nice, actually. Nicer than he’d started telling himself it would be. There was a window out onto the street below that let a lot of light into the kitchen and living room. The couch was old and saggy, but it looked like the kind you could sink right into and struggle to get up from later.
The kitchen was on the small side, but that was okay. This was only temporary, and Andy had plenty of practice with small kitchens. He could make it work. One or two chips on the edge of the countertop just served to make the place feel more homey.
As much as he hated to admit it, his old apartment had never quite felt like home. It had been too shiny, too new, too unlived-in. Andy had more or less only used one corner of it.
This place did at least look as though someone lived here.
“You know, that apartment building, the one you lived in, they’d been warned a couple of times about using substandard materials that weren’t up to code.”
Andy looked up, turning his attention back to Red. “Really?”
Red nodded. “Yeah. There was a whole big thing about it. I guess they kept it quiet from the people actually living there.”
“Or I just… missed the memo. It happens.” Andy smiled sheepishly. “Was, umm. Was anyone hurt?”
Red cleared his throat. “Couple of minor injuries. Most people weren’t home, so it was a good time for it to catch fire if it was gonna. Not, uh. Not that it’s good that your place burned down. I mean, I get that it’s traumatic. Do you need… like, a hug, or something?” Red rubbed the back of his neck, obviously unsure of himself.
Andy didn’t really have the mental fortitude to deal with how adorable he was, so he decided on just enjoying it instead.
“As much as I hate to knock back that offer, I’ll be okay. It’s… fine, honestly. I didn’t own a lot of physical stuff I was attached to. Nothing that can’t be replaced.”
Red nodded, clearly relieved by this information. “Okay, but we have, like, numbers for counsellors and stuff, if you wanna talk. Or I’m here whenever I’m here…”
Andy managed a small, but sincere smile. “Noted. Thank you. Can I sleep now?”
“Oh, yeah, of course! Sorry, I’ll shut up.” Red mimed zipping his lips, looking completely serious the whole time. Andy couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at that.
Rather than stare at his adorable, unreasonably nice new roommate, he headed for the couch, kicked his shoes off, and curled up with one of the cushions under his head. It smelled faintly of men’s deodorant, the industrial strength kind.
Firefighting was probably a sweaty job, so that made sense. Either way, that was kind of soothing, as well. It reminded Andy of college boyfriends past, and most of those were good memories.
He gripped the key he’d been given tightly in his hand, and fell asleep.
Chapter Four
Post-shift, the first thing Red always did when he got home was shower. There were showers at the station, but the water pressure there was, ironically, terrible. The thing he loved most about this apartment was that the water pressure was amazing.
Besides, it was nice to be able to shower, dry off, and then flop straight into bed. There’d been half a dozen calls over the course of his shift today, and while he hadn’t gone to all of them, there’d been a general air of being constantly busy. That was almost more exhausting than the days when he did get to be a big damn hero and pull people out of burning buildings.
He shut off the water and shook some of it out of his hair before stepping out of the shower.
Just as Andy opened the bathroom door, blinking sleepily.
His eyes widened when he saw Red standing there.
Red had no idea how to handle this situation. He was pretty sure a grown man wouldn’t scream and grab the nearest towel, no matter how much he wanted to.
To his surprise, Andy didn’t look away. Instead, he wet his lips.
That was… weird.
But also, kind of hot?
Red reached out for the towel slowly, not wanting to seem like he was ashamed or anything. He liked his body, scratches, bruises, and scars included.
Andy didn’t seem to be offended by it, either.
“Umm.” Andy finally sprung back to life, looking up at Red’s face instead of letting his gaze creep progressively lower. “I am so sorry. Also, you’re really hot. I’ll go.”
Before Red could say anything, Andy had disappeared out of the bathroom.
Red swallowed, wrapping the towel around his waist and then wondering what the hell he should do. He couldn’t hide in the bathroom all day, tempting as it was.
Andy thought he was hot.
Which… probably meant Andy was gay.
That was nice. Having a gay roommate would be cool.
That thought gave Red the push he needed to leave the bathroom and slip into his own room as quickly as he could. He’d intended to go straight to sleep, but instead, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt to head out into the living room.
He hadn’t accepted Andy’s apology yet, and that seemed important.
Andy was already in the kitchen, working on something that looked like it was more complicated than Red would normally have bothered with.
“Hey, uh, sorry about that. I haven’t had a roommate for a while, and I know you haven’t, either.”
Andy cleared his throat, blushing. “That was all my fault, and I am genuinely sorry. I was tired and I just didn’t hear the shower going.” He looked up. “I’m not normally that oblivious. But I am making breakfast muffins and there’ll be way more than I can eat, so…”
“I would love to take a muffin or two off your hands.” Red grinned. Finding a roommate who baked was like hitting the jackpot, as far as he was concerned.
“I bake when I’m stressed,” Andy said. “And apparentl
y having your apartment burn down is stressful. Who knew, right?” He smiled wryly.
Red laughed, but at the same time, hated to hear that Andy was stressed. Of course he was—that was why they had hotlines and stuff for fire victims—but if there was anything Red could think of doing to make it easier for him, he would have.
He wanted to pretend to himself that he’d care about anyone the same way, but he’d saved Andy’s life. That was an unusual, important bond between them, as far as he was concerned.
Andy was a little special.
“So, uh…” Red scratched the back of his neck, not sure how to approach the subject of Andy’s sexuality without coming off as weird or blunt. “You’re gay, huh?”
Andy paused what he was doing immediately, setting the cup of milk he’d been pouring out back down on the counter. “Yes. I should have told you yesterday, I guess, but I was tired and I needed a place to say and I just… forgot. I was hoping it wouldn’t be a big deal.”
“It’s not!” Red rushed to assure him, not wanting Andy to think that it bothered him at all. “It’s, umm, it’s fine. I’m gay too, so…”
The moment he said it, Red could see the relief wash over Andy. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear that,” he said, going back to making muffins.
“Yeah, it was kind of a relief for me, too.” Red pulled out the stool tucked under the breakfast counter and sat on it, leaning forward to watch Andy work. He clearly knew what he was doing, every step confident and efficient.
“I bet. I kind of thought gay firefighters were the kind of thing that only existed in porn.”
Red chuckled, even though the thought made him blush. “Yeah, I guess. We’re not totally non-existent. And all the guys at work have been super cool about it. I’ve been lucky, I guess.”
“I consider myself very lucky to work alone,” Andy said. “Which is also something I should have told you. I’ll be here most of the time, or at a nearby coffee shop. We should exchange numbers. Also, you should tell me about any allergies you have so I don’t accidentally kill you with baked goods.”
“Uh…” Red paused for a moment, not sure which part of that to address. He was getting the impression that Andy didn’t have a great brain-to-mouth filter, but it was weirdly endearing.
“I’m allergic to hazelnuts,” he said, deciding that was the most important part. He didn’t care where or how Andy worked, really. As long as he paid his share of the rent and bills.
Red believed that he would. Despite the fact that he was wearing Spider-Man pajama pants, he seemed mature and responsible.
“Just hazelnuts, or nuts in general?” Andy asked, then looked up, horrified, realizing what he’d said.
“That one’s too easy, I’m gonna let it go,” Red responded, grinning at him.
“Are you saying you don’t have the balls to tackle it?” Andy went back to portioning muffin batter into a tray, which Red was pretty sure was new. He wasn’t aware of ever having owned a muffin tray.
“Well, I wouldn’t want to be a dick about it,” Red said, thrilled that he could joke with Andy like this already. They’d just sort of… clicked, in a way Red wasn’t used to.
Maybe it was because Andy was gay. Red had never really had any gay friends before, stuck too deep in the closet to make them.
He’d only just met Andy, obviously, but they seemed to be getting along. Way better than Red could have hoped for.
“I like you,” Andy said, bending down to put his muffins in the oven. “I’m glad I ended up here.”
“Me too,” Red agreed.
He’d been thinking about how weird it was that of all people, Andy was the one who’d answered his ad yesterday and decided it made sense, after all. Andy was one of a few people who were urgently looking for a place to stay, and his place was one of a few that would make sense for a single man.
It was less of a weird coincidence than it had seemed at first, but it still felt significant. Fate had brought them together twice, and Red was inclined to think that meant they needed to meet each other. He wasn’t sure why yet, but he’d find out sooner or later.
In the meantime, saving half the rent and getting fresh muffins made for him was a pretty good deal.
Chapter Five
Andy wasn’t normally the kind of man who looked at people’s phone screens over their shoulders.
Well…
No, that was a lie.
He was absolutely the kind of man who did that, but normally only to people he knew well enough to know wouldn’t mind, or people who were total strangers to him. Almost everyone he ever interacted with fell into one of those two categories.
Red was the sole exception in his life at the moment.
In any case, he’d just seen something he had to comment on. Red probably wouldn’t mind.
“I’m sorry I looked, but are you signing up for M4M? The dating app?” Andy asked, trying to sound as neutrally curious as possible. If Red knew why he wanted to know, it’d defeat the purpose.
Red looked up from where he’d been happily, quietly eating toast and playing with his phone, and nodded. “Yeah,” he said around a mouthful, pausing to swallow. “Why?”
Andy wet his lips. This was a perfect opportunity, and he didn’t want to waste it. “Can I watch you go through the process?”
Red frowned, considering for a moment, and then sat back, his shoulders relaxing. “Sure.” He nodded to the other chair, which Andy pulled around the table so he could sit beside Red and watch.
“So, how did you hear about it?” Andy asked, forcing himself not to lean his head against Red’s shoulder.
As tempting as it was, he suspected they weren’t quite there yet as friends.
“I kept getting ads for it on Facebook after I came out.”
“When did you come out?” Andy frowned to himself. M4M had only been around for a year, and only been in full release for about nine months.
“About six months ago,” Red said, filling in his email address and password.
Which was password1. He didn’t even try to cover it.
Andy didn’t want to tell him off for his lack of security consciousness right that moment, but he made a mental note to mention it once Red was done signing up.
“Did you seriously just put fun as an interest?” Andy asked as he saw Red enter it.
Red paused, fingers poised over the on-screen keyboard. “Is that… wrong?”
“Well, I guess it depends on what you’re looking for. I mean, if you wanna use it as a hookup app, that’s up to you, but it’s meant to be more in-depth than that. It’ll match you with people you’re actually compatible with, who you could date rather than… y’know.”
“Hook up with,” Red finished for him.
Two grown men afraid to say fuck in front of each other was ridiculous, but Andy figured now wasn’t the time to analyze that.
“Right,” he said. “And putting fun as an interest has kind of become code for people who really do just want to hook up. Which, again, is fine. No judgement, if that’s what you want.”
“I want a boyfriend,” Red said. He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on his chair. “That was maybe a little too honest, but I do. I’ve never gotten to date or anything. I’m not saying I don’t want… other stuff, but I’d like it to be with someone I like first. If that’s not weird.”
Oh.
Red was a virgin.
Someone was about to be the luckiest man in Columbus.
“Then you need to delete fun as an interest. People will come by and flatter you, but they’ll only be interested in getting into your pants,” Andy advised.
“How do you know all this?” Red asked, deleting fun as instructed.
“Uh.” Andy rubbed the back of his neck. “I built it. The app, I mean. Surprise?”
Red blinked at him. “You built this app? This is your app?”
Andy nodded. He was going to have to tell Red eventually, and he’d seen what he needed to see—the sig
nup process was intuitive enough, but choosing interests could use some work. He probably needed to develop prompts for that, or use the data the app pulled from Facebook to make suggestions.
He’d had dreams of automating the profile once upon a time, but people had been resistant to giving the app that much access. Now, it relied on them knowing themselves as well as Facebook knew them, which they rarely did. Or at least, they weren’t as good at articulating what their interests and circumstances were.
Sometimes they were just less honest. Data never lied, though.
“Wow.” Red looked back at his phone. “Cool. You must have guys falling all over you.”
Andy laughed at that. “I must,” he said, knowing that the opposite was true.
No one cared who built the thing as long as it connected them with people they’d enjoy being with. He’d heard a ton of success stories, but almost never directly.
People only ever emailed him when something was broken and needed fixing.
“But, uh, I can help you. We can work on your profile together, if you want?”
“You’d do that for me?”
Andy shrugged. “I’m in the matchmaking business,” he said. “It’s kind of my job to help people find love.”
“I need all the help I can get.” Red smiled sheepishly.
Excited about the prospect of being able to see how the system handled someone else’s profile, Andy stood. “Stay put. I’m gonna get my laptop, and we’re gonna find your soulmate,” he said.
Red raised an eyebrow, but he looked so hopeful that Andy’s heart melted a little. This was why he’d built the app in the first place. He just wanted to make men like Red happy.
He also wanted Red, specifically, to be happy. That impulse came from a slightly different place than his more general one to match gay men up to other gay men they could fall in love with.
It was fine to have a tiny crush on his roommate, right? The guy had saved his life. He was bound to have some kind of feelings toward him.
Red Hot Page 2