by A. D. Ellis
I shook my head and threw an arm up in the air to wave him off.
Whatever, Cooper didn’t know anything. Sure, he wanted to create some crazy love story in his head and see me and Dre happy, but shit like that didn’t happen in real life.
Jesse and Cooper? Spencer and Rai? Cruz and Logan? Damn, man, you’re living with three real-life happily ever afters.
Climbing into my car and driving with a bit more anger than was strictly necessary, I shook off the thought. Fine, shit like that didn’t happen to me. I was the trailer park kid from the wrong side of the tracks, I didn’t get happily ever afters. Blaine’s drinking and gambling and cheating crashed through my head as proof that I wasn’t good at relationships and I didn’t deserve the happiness others reveled in when they found their person.
Dre and I spent the next few shifts on random, unexciting calls. We snapped pics and took a commanding lead on the board. Our days off were dedicated to volunteering at the homeless shelter and the animal shelter, reading books during story-hour at the library, visiting sick kids at the hospital, and talking to classes at the school.
As Dre and I spent more time together, I realized with a sinking feeling that I’d come to look forward to his incessant, stupid chatter and constant presence.
Logan had two cats at Bev’s place, Sugar and Spice. They were pretty much just the house cats; we all loved them. I knew Dre liked animals, but watching him with the dogs and cats at the animal shelter really drove the point home.
“You want a dog or cat some day?” I asked.
“Definitely, but not while working EMT shifts. I feel like I wouldn’t be able to take good care of it being gone for such long stretches.” Dre threw the ball for the dog we were playing with to fetch.
“Yeah, I get that.”
“Having Logan’s cats at home is good enough for now. One day, when I’m doing design stuff only, I’ll have cats and most likely a dog.” Dre smiled as the dog barreled back to us with the ball.
Each place we went together, I saw more and more of Dre to like. He definitely wasn’t that closeted, hateful, scared-to-death kid I’d met ten years ago. He was a strong, proud, gay, Black man who loved his friends, adored animals, was great with kids, and had a creative flair that shone brightly.
I’d known I was falling farther and farther down the rabbit hole of conflicting feelings toward Dre for a while, but there was no way I could do anything about it. Dre and I were partners, possibly edging toward being pseudo friends, and I wasn’t about to ruin that with admitting I might have—maybe, sort of—liked him.
So what if I was going insane wanting to kiss him again? Wanting his mouth on mine, my lips spread for him, our bodies coming together in a hot, sweaty tangle. Maybe I’d moved somewhat away from the animosity and irritation, but the attraction and warmth I’d started feeling toward Dre was no better.
He had plans for his life. I had plans for mine. There was no way those plans included each other.
I’d never gotten over the feeling of not being good enough and it haunted me still. Dre deserved better than me—hell, how did I even know if he felt the same toward me?
We’d been getting along okay since Indy, but that was only because we never once brought up what had happened in the hotel and the strain of keeping up the pretense was exhausting. The tension between us came to a head on the day we went to talk to Hadley’s class at school. The day before, we’d been to the homeless shelter and I saw such compassion in Dre; a switch flipped in me. The strength of all those years of disliking him washed over me ten-fold as I realized with dread and self-loathing that I’d gone and let myself develop feelings for Dre.
Fuck.
As we followed Hadley out to recess after eating lunch with her—the class chat had gone well and hopefully they learned something—she raced to a bench. “This is the friend bench. You sit on it and make a friend.” She watched us with an expectant look. “Sit.”
Not sure how to tell the little girl no, Dre and I—two big guys in our dark blue pants and department logo polos and fleece jackets—sat on the bench.
“Now you talk and say you’re friends,” Hadley said. “Like this, Hi, I’m Dre, do you want to be my friend?”
I nudged Dre with my elbow.
“Oh, um, yeah. Hi,” he said as he threw a shy grin my way, “I’m Dre, do you want to be my friend?”
Hadley pointed to me. “And now you say, Hi, I’m Khi, yeah, let’s be friends.”
Back when I’d first moved in at Remington Place, there’s no way I would have let my guard down enough to play friends, even for a sweet little girl. But now, I gave a smirk and a shrug and stuck out my hand to Dre. “Hi, I’m Khi. Yeah, let’s be friends.”
Dre shook my hand and a hot, electric current zipped through me as his eyes caught mine and refused to let go.
Hadley chattered on, oblivious to the thick sexual tension between her two grown-up friends. When the bell rang, we walked her to class and signed out in the office.
On the way home, I analyzed my options. Admit to Dre I possibly didn’t hate him anymore and see if he wanted to continue what had started in the hotel? Or skip straight to the hooking up part? Admitting the hate was disintegrating seemed like a dangerous move. Letting in feelings? Unsure of what came next? If I didn’t hate Dre, did that mean I liked him?
And offering to hook up with your partner and housemate seems safe?
No, but I’d been going crazy thinking about what we’d shared that night. Maybe Cooper was right and we could enjoy some hot sex knowing it wasn’t leading to anything in particular. Sex could just be sex.
“What’s your favorite color?” Dre asked as we walked up the back steps to the house.
I rolled my eyes but chuckled. “Just because we sat on the friend bench you think we’re besties now?”
Dre snorted. “I’m not holding my breath for that to ever happen. I just noticed that you wear a lot of muted tones so I was wondering if you liked any specific colors.”
I shrugged and dropped my bag by the stairs before returning to the kitchen where Dre was scavenging in the refrigerator. “No real favorite, I tend to go with grays and blues a lot I think.”
“I can see that. If you ever let me dress you, I’m going to make it my mission to get you in something with at least a splash of color. I can see you in a Dre King tailored suit, so gray it’s almost black, with a purple tie and pocket square. Nothing flashy, just a pop.” Dre gave up in the fridge and turned to the counter where he picked up a note as he reached for a cookie. “Bev’s at her friend’s before they go to bingo. Dinner is in the crock-pot. She doesn’t think anyone will be around for food except us.”
Jesse, Cooper, and Hadley always came over for dinner on Thursdays and some other evenings, but I knew they were going to Cooper’s parents’ house for his mom’s birthday.
“Dalton and Gabby have been working late on some big project at work. Pretty sure Cruz and Logan both have a shift at the Wishing Well.” Dre frowned. “Not sure about Spencer and Rai.”
I moved toward the counter and took a cookie from the plate. “I think Rai talked Spencer into attending some event at the hospital.”
Dre smiled. “I don’t think Rai has to talk Spencer into much, those two are crazy for each other.”
“Seems like we’re surrounded by stable, loving happily ever afters,” I mused.
“You ever think you’ll find that?” Dre asked.
Out of habit, I bristled, but after a calming breath I shook my head. “No.”
“Don’t want it?”
“It’s not that. Just thought I had it then I lost it. Don’t want to go through that again.” I reached for another cookie.
“Any chance our time on the friend bench earned me the right to ask what happened with your ex?” Dre hedged.
I huffed. “I settled, thought the mediocrity was all I would ever get. His drinking got out of hand. It took too long, but eventually a red flag waved and I realized I had to get awa
y or I’d end up living the same life I’d had with my drunk-ass father in that damn trashy trailer park. I was building up to leave when I found out Blaine had lost his job, was gambling to cover debts, and was having sex for money. I left and never looked back. Gabby got me in here, the end.”
Dre’s eyes were wide. “Holy shit. I’m sorry, I knew you’d been through some shit with that asshole, but I didn’t realize how bad.”
Aside from Gabby, no one really knew the story about Blaine and it was nice to have Dre immediately take my side. “How do you know he’s an asshole?”
Dre frowned. “Um, he put you through shit and lost you, clearly he’s an asshole.” He studied me for a moment. “You know none of that was your fault, right?”
I shrugged. “I mean, it was my fault for settling with someone who ended up being an alcoholic. It’s like I can’t escape my father.”
“No, Blaine’s drinking wasn’t on you.”
“How do you know?” I bit out. “You barely know me.”
Dre nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “True, but I know that alcoholism is a disease and you didn’t make Blaine drink. I’m sorry you had such a shitty time of it, but I’m glad you’re away from that.”
“Yeah, me too. I was leaving because of the drinking; the gambling, lying, and sex was just icing on the cake. It hurt to learn all of it, but when I’m not feeling sorry for myself, I realize it was for the best because it forced me to leave sooner rather than later.”
Dre cocked his head. “Why do you feel sorry for yourself?”
This was getting way too deep and I wanted to shove off the counter and retreat to my room, but I knew Dre would just keep pushing. After watching him recently with the sick kids and the people at the homeless shelter and even the animals, I knew he wasn’t doing it to be obnoxious, he was a naturally curious and caring person and that sometimes came across as nosey when he truly just wanted to help.
“It’s no secret I’ve always been the mixed kid from the wrong side of the tracks. Never white enough for the white folks and never Black enough for the Black crowd. Basketball was the only thing I had going for me and even that was good but not great.” I took one last cookie and covered them up again before I ate the entire plate. “Coming out was for myself and to piss my father off. No one really cared and I sometimes wonder if it was because neither side claimed me as their own so they didn’t care if I was gay.” The words pouring out of me barely made sense to my own ears and I wondered if Dre would think I was crazy. “College ball was great, college classes not so much. Blaine was going to be my one bright spot—and he was, for a while. Blew out my knee, lost basketball, left school. Settled in with Blaine—who never once let me forget that I was just a paramedic compared to his medical degree. Couldn’t even keep a relationship together with a gambling, drunk cheater.” I shrugged and wiped some crumbs into the sink. “It’s just a lot and I get down on myself sometimes.”
Dre shook his head. “One day, I really want to talk about high school, but I won’t push it today.”
“Probably for the best. That shit is long gone, no need.” For some reason, opening up to Dre about how I’d felt about him back then—the jealousy and envy, the attraction, the anger over his attitude, all of it—put me on guard.
“I don’t see a person who should feel sorry for himself,” Dre started. “I’ve watched you over the months since you moved in here and especially since we got thrown together at work. You’re probably the most skilled and intelligent paramedic I’ve ever worked with. You’ve got a real talent—keeping calm, knowing what to do, relating to your patients, the whole package.
“You’re also amazing with kids and the elderly. Hadley’s friends and the kids at the hospital looked at you as if you walked on water. Bev’s bingo bunch were enamored with you from the moment we walked it. I think you could have told them they needed to do hourly enemas and get a shot every day and they would have happily agreed just to keep you talking.” Dre snuck one more cookie before pushing the plate to the far corner.
“People just like to be listened to. The kids and the bingo crew, they all just like having someone to talk to.” I shrugged.
“It’s more than that. You see yourself as this guy constantly having to prove himself. I see you as this smart, successful, caring man who people can’t help but want to be around. Out there,” Dre gestured toward the window, “you let down your guard and all of this amazingness shines through.
“In here,” his arm swung wide, “and with me, you get so inside your head and caught up in proving something—I’m not sure what—that you turn into a prickly porcupine intent on keeping people at a distance.”
Swallowing hard, ready to end the conversation because it was hitting a bit too close to home, I turned to face Dre and stepped in close. “What if I decided I didn’t want that distance?”
Dre’s eyes caught fire as he stared at me, his tongue coming out to lick his lips. “I thought you said that was a mistake? A one-time thing?”
“I did,” I answered gruffly, “but I can’t get it out of my head.”
Dre’s eyes narrowed. “So, we can’t be friends but we can be fuck buddies?”
“Yeah?” I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I’m having a really hard time separating and making sense of hating you, seeing a new side of you, and wanting a repeat of that night in the hotel.”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that, too,” Dre reached for my belt loops and tugged, “but I’m torn.”
“About?” I ran my hands up his arms.
“Are we making progress toward a tentative friendship? If so, will sex fuck that up? Or are we going to be forever stuck in this awkward, tense relationship where we barely tolerate each other? If so, maybe sex for the sake of sex isn’t the worst idea.” Dre leaned in close and brushed his lips over mine.
Controlling the urge to shove him against the counter and devour his mouth, I plunged my fingers through his hair to grip the back of his neck. “Or maybe we’re slowly mending fences and there’s no reason to pass up a good time on our way?”
I wasn’t sure either of us believed a damn word I was saying, but the way our hard cocks pressed against each other, it obviously didn’t matter.
“Can we at least agree that we won’t let sex interfere with work or house stuff? Won’t take two steps backward from whatever fragile friendship we’ve possibly been forming?” Dre asked, his hands gripping my hips, pressing our groins tightly together.
“As long as we also agree that it’s just sex and neither of us is looking for anything serious,” I said, my mouth hovering over his.
Dre hesitated just long enough for me to wonder if he was going to push away and decide against the terrible idea. Making decisions with my dick wasn’t the best move, but that night in the hotel played on a loop in my head and I was hungry for what Dre and I could have in the bedroom.
“We’re only with each other for however long it lasts—no sleeping around,” Dre said, “and when one or the other feels it’s time to move on, we discuss it openly and maturely.”
“Agreed.” With my cock straining against my uniform pants, I would have said just about anything to move things along. “As the victim of a cheating fiancé, I can assure you I have no interest in sneaking around.” I paused. “But we’re not dating.”
Dre narrowed his eyes a bit as he snaked his hands around my waist. “Of course not. Enemies with benefits? Friends with benefits doesn’t exactly fit if we aren’t full-on friends.”
“Frenemies with benefits?” I suggested.
He snorted. “Perfect.”
“Can we move on from the talking to the fucking now?”
Dre leaned close and whispered against my lips, “It’s one of the benefits I’m the most interested in.”
“Same,” I answered before yanking him close and crashing my mouth against his.
Hot desire exploded in my veins as my tongue dipped in to savor the taste of him. Dre opened his
mouth in invitation and groaned when our tongues tangled in a slick, messy reunion. The flavor of cookies and Dre drenched my senses.
Shoving against Dre’s chest, I walked him backwards until he was pressed against the wall, my mouth never leaving his as the kiss became more frenzied.
Dre tore his mouth from mine, breathing heavily. “We doing a quick come and done? Or something more entailed?”
I dipped my head, desperate to kiss him again and again, my lips begging for contact. “How about quick and then we shower and see where things go?” I knew my cock in his ass was exactly where I wanted things to go, but maybe Dre wasn’t on the same page.
You also know his cock in your ass is something you want.
Yeah, I definitely wasn’t going there yet.
“I’m game. Upstairs? Maybe not smart to take chances on blow jobs in the kitchen with seven housemates who we think won’t be home for a while.” Dre’s hand brushed over my cock. “Pretty sure I don’t want to be on my knees with this monster down my throat when your sister gets home from a long day at work.”
“Talking about my sister with your hand on my cock is a major boner-killer,” I grumbled against his lips.
Dre laughed and pushed me away. “Let’s go.”
We raced up the stairs to our top-floor room. With the door closed and locked, I flipped on some music with hopes it would drown out the sex noises just in case anyone got home earlier than expected.
In a flurry of arms and legs, cloth and skin, Dre and I ripped clothing from each other’s bodies. Torn between wanting to savor each and every square inch of his gorgeous body and simply getting my cock in his mouth, I laughed when Dre spun me around and slammed me against the door.
“Here’s the plan,” he murmured against my mouth, his tongue slipping inside to steal a kiss before continuing, “you’re going to fuck my face until you blow. Then you’ll suck me off. We’ll shower and meet back in here for whatever might come next.”
I gripped his braids and tilted his head up. “Better get on your knees, I’ve got some face-fucking to do.”