Dr. Perfect: An MM Contemporary Romance Bundle

by J. P. Oliver

  I must really be looking exhausted for that to be the first thing out of his mouth, but it wasn’t like I could deny the truth in it. I laughed instead, conceding the point. “Yeah, well … we all have days like this sometimes, right?”

  Tarek smiled a knowing sort of smile, and then gestured with a thumb over his shoulder toward the field we were standing near. “Ready to go?”

  “Yep, I’m ready. Everything we need is over there.”

  I handed him a trowel and large pair of farming shears before pointing to the wheelbarrow nearby. We were about to start one of the most tedious parts of farming: harvest. At least we were just dealing with squash this time, which were heavy and kind of a pain to tote around, but nowhere near as finicky as some of the other vegetables we grew.

  In any case, with the time crunch looming over our shoulders, we were quick to start work. We rushed back and forth, as we had with the hay bales, but with even greater intensity. We switched off between harvesting the gourds and ferrying them to a big stack next to the side of the barn. The stack grew steadily over the next fifteen minutes, but there were still so many left to pick that the task was beginning to feel impossible.

  In no time at all, the sun had set. The back of my throat felt pretty dry — enough for me to cough a few times, eliciting a concerned look from Tarek, who was covered in dust from the patch.

  “You okay? You want me to grab you a glass of water or something?” he asked as he brushed his hands off on the front of his overalls.

  I shook my head almost immediately. “It’s fine; I can hold off until we’re done. We still gotta stack these puppies.”

  I gestured to the gourds lined up under the light from a barn and quirked a little smile, which got him to chuckle in return. That was a nice thing to hear.

  We really worked ourselves to the bone through the chill of the settling darkness. We ran back and forward between the wall and the patch, organizing what we could see. We cut through scores of stems and leaves on the gourds piled up and hastily cleared away vines.

  Once or twice, one of us ended up dropping a few squashes. Fortunately, none of them smashed open on the packed dirt ground below us. Another time, one of the rounder squashes fell out of the cart and started to roll down a hill. Tarek ran after it with a yelp of concern, and though both of us had a good laugh about it, it only sapped up more energy.

  By the time we had finished cleaning up the last squash that we could for the night, the exhaustion that I had been feeling all day had sunk into my bones. A glance over to Tarek told me he probably wasn’t feeling too differently. As we toted the last squash over to the side of the barn, he turned to collapse with his back to the wall and heaved out a great sigh.

  “Phew … we made a pretty good dent, at least,” he offered, looking back toward the patch. It was true; there were only a few rows of squash left to harvest, and that was something that I could easily do on my own later.

  “Thanks for the help,” I said, truly grateful. I couldn’t even imagine how much more tired I would be if I’d had to tackle all of this on my own over the span of days.

  “No problem,” he replied. Then, jokingly, he added: “That’s what I’m here for.”

  I laughed, too, but it was weighed down with bone-deep tiredness.

  Both of us were sweaty, and the tiredness took away some of the exhilaration that had accompanied us when we were doing the hay bales. I didn’t have the energy for anything other than leaning forward to give him a smack on the lips. It was a clumsy gesture, and our noses bumped, but we laughed anyway.

  “I’m gonna head back in and take a shower,” I said. “I have an early shift tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, me too,” said Tarek, looking even more exhausted at the thought. He gave me a look that seemed to linger. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

  “Yeah, tomorrow.” I said. But after a second, I paused and added: “Tomorrow, we should probably talk about this.”

  His expression seemed to say he understood.

  12

  Tarek

  The exhaustion that always stuck with me clung even harder tonight. Not that farm work was invigorating, but I at least felt a good kind of tired when I was done.

  Normally, anyway. Today, I just felt the ache all the way down in the core of my bones, like they were ready to throw in the towel whether or not I acknowledged them.

  Both of us were equally tired, too. Maybe Jeff was pulling longer shifts than usual? He did seem to have a lot on his plate, between managing the farm and working at that feed store.

  As for me, my life was still a constant balancing act — even more so, now that I had to add extra farm duties onto the list. It wasn’t like I regretted it, since it had allowed me to provide a proper holiday meal for Neri and Rajal, and to meet Jeff. But it was one more demand on my time, which was stretched thin even on good days.

  There was nothing that I could do about it, though. No way was I about to back out on our deal, and I couldn’t cut back on school or work, either. I hadn’t checked my grades in a while for fear that the additional stress had begun to take a toll on them, but regardless of how well or poorly I was doing, tuition remained the same. My pocketbook still had huge chunks of money being pulled out all the time, and it was all I could do to cram in as many work shifts as possible to try making up for the deficit.

  These were the thoughts that plagued my mind as I walked into my house, grateful that the light had been left on. I stepped out of the car and patted myself down, shaking away bits of dirt and hay. I still reeked of sweat and the outdoors, though, and I was delighted to go take a shower.

  But when I opened the door, I saw Rajal in the kitchen. He was giving me a look that immediately froze me where I stood. He seemed angry. Disgusted, even.

  Coming back to my senses, I dropped my keys into the bowl and kicked off my shoes before I went to take a seat across from him. “What’s wrong?” I asked, keeping my voice soft. It was pretty late already, and Neri might have been asleep.

  It seemed that neither of us wanted to risk disturbing her, since he replied back with a low hiss. “I saw you.”

  My blood froze in my veins. Despite the vagueness of those three simple words, I knew exactly what he meant. What else could he mean?

  He continued despite my fish-faced gaping. It was clear that he had been running over how to tackle this in his head for who knew how long, though emotion also interfered and made his words come out choppy and harsh.

  “I was wondering where you’ve been heading off to all these evenings, so I followed you today, since Neri was away at her friend’s place until after dinner. I saw you two out there. I saw you…” He paused, as if thinking about it alone was enough to make him angry or sick. “Kiss.”

  All at once, as if only just now realizing that the disgust on his face was directed at me, I felt somewhat sick myself. This was the exact scenario I’d tried to avoid. This was the reason I’d refused to talk to either Neri or Rajal about my sexuality — because I knew better than anyone what kind of household we'd grown up in. I’d known that something like this would happen.

  I knew it, and yet it still somehow took me by surprise. Sensing that I didn’t have anything to add to the conversation just yet, Rajal continued. His voice was a snake-like whisper, whipping angrily through the air between us, but still low and careful. I could tell what he was thinking: Neri didn’t need to know something like this about the older brother that she looked up to.

  “Are you kidding me, Tarek? You should know better! That shit’s disgusting — it’s not natural!”

  “Hey, watch your language,” I automatically chided, the habits of a pseudo-parent ingrained in me from years of having to raise the two of them.

  “You don’t get to lecture me about language right now! You’re the one who’s out there breaking all of the taboos! Did you just forget what our faith teaches? Or do you not care that it’s wrong?”

  His lips pulled upward into a sneer when he asked that,
as if not viewing it as an inherent wrongness was somehow worse than anything else. Though I could feel my stomach sink on reflex, I also felt something new: a little thread of anger that wove through the tense anxiety.

  “Listen, Rajal.” I held one hand up. “I need you to—”

  He cut me off, throwing his own hands into the air in a burst of anger. “I don’t care what you need from me! I’m here taking care of Neri every night while you’re out there making out with a guy. You don’t have any right to lecture me!”

  “Rajal,” I started again. A measure of warning slipped into my tone. “You can’t just—”

  “Oh, I can do whatever I want! You lost any right to tell me what I can or can’t do the second you stepped out there and did that behind our backs! I can’t believe you!

  “You’re bringing shame to our whole family! What do you think Mom and Dad would say if they knew? Or Neri?” he hissed, putting emphasis on her name before continuing. “You don’t have any right to lecture me when you’re the one doing gross and unnatural things!”

  “That’s enough,” I hissed back, just barely managing to control myself so I wouldn’t slam my hand into the table. By that point, the little threads of anger had morphed into something more potent. They mixed with the guilt that his words inspired and created a disgusting sludge that sat in the pit of my stomach.

  Even so, I sat up straighter in the chair. I loved my brother. He’d done a lot for me over the years, and we were always there for each other. There was no one in the world who could replace him.

  But at the same time, I was almost eight years older than he was. I was an adult, and this was my life, and I was not about to sit here in the kitchen after breaking my back in half to provide for him, only to let him ream me out.

  “You don’t get to talk to me like that. You don’t get to sit here, in my house, in my kitchen, and tell me what I can or can’t do.” I hoped that my tone was less confrontational than it sounded to my own ears. I wasn’t here to start a fight. Or rather, I wasn’t here to continue it.

  Rajal, on the other hand, looked at me like I’d just slapped him. It was true that I didn’t often pull rank against my siblings. I preferred to think of this as something we were all in together, but everyone had their lines.

  “You’re living under my roof,” I continued, a little less tensely this time, trying to pull myself back into some semblance of calm. “And as long as you’re living here, you don’t get to have a say in what I do.”

  Rajal glared at me and stood from the table quickly enough for his chair to slide back. “Yeah, well. That might change really soon if you don’t clean up your act and stop behaving in such a shameful way,” he hissed.

  “Mind your own business,” I snapped, unable to contain the surge of irritation that welled up.

  That was apparently all Rajal was willing to take for the night. With one last glare, he stepped away from the table and whisked his way down the hall. If it weren’t for Neri, I’m sure that he would have stomped and slammed the door shut behind him.

  With him gone, all of the tension drained out of the kitchen, and me. I slumped down in the chair, and the exhaustion from before settled into me even more steadily. I rubbed at my face and heaved a sigh.

  I still had to take a shower and get ready for tomorrow, where I would see Jeffrey again. The entire time that I got ready for bed, Rajal’s words echoed in my head.

  13

  Jeffrey

  I could tell right away that something wasn’t right with Tarek when he showed up the next day. He greeted me almost stiffly, with a strange sort of formality that hadn’t even been present when we first met. As we walked the path to the storehouse, he kept at a distance, as if making sure there was no way we would physically come into contact with each other. Maybe it was because I had already somehow gotten used to bumping shoulders as we walked, but that only made the absence stand out even more starkly.

  Inside the barn itself, I glanced out over the bales of hay stacked up in rows along the sides.

  “Well,” I started off, feeling a little bit awkward. “Today, I was hoping to get these hay bales all spread out. We’re prepping this barn to move a new bunch of goats into in a week or so.”

  “All right,” he replied, moving almost mechanically to go pick up a pitchfork. “I’ll take that side.”

  I watched in baffled silence as he walked himself over to the hay bales farthest away from where I stood, and immediately started unloading the parcels to take them apart on the floor and spread the hay around.

  “Er … okay, then,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. With little else to do about it, and not feeling bold enough to try moving closer to him, I started over on the end where I stood.

  We worked like that for a while, not standing side by side for the first time since we’d begun working together. Silence stretched out between us. Though I tried once or twice to break it, the responses that I got were so stiff and stilted that I didn’t try again.

  The air outside was crisp and cool, but here in the barn it seemed hot, heavy and oppressive, like a blanket of lead carpeted us both. I had no choice but to continue working, even with the atmosphere that all but screamed Tarek didn’t want to be here.

  We’d worked our way halfway through the bales by the time I finally decided to say something. We were close enough by then that I could reach him by taking a few steps to the left, and still he didn’t say a thing to me.

  “All right,” I finally said, turning to rest my hoe against the bales. “What gives? You’ve been ignoring me all afternoon, which, let me tell you, is a real feat when I’m the only other person in the building.”

  For a second, it seemed like Tarek was going to give it up and actually talk to me. He glanced over for a few long seconds, but I couldn’t read his expression. When it looked like he was about to go back to work, I reached out to grab his hand.

  “Hey,” I started, but that was as far as I got. Much to my surprise, as soon as I made contact, his arm whipped out and grabbed the collar of my shirt. I heard the rake clatter to the ground behind him, but didn’t pay it much mind, since he pulled me in for a frantic kiss.

  Instantly, I was reminded of the first time we’d kissed, the desperation there, the frenetic energy. This time, it was almost like desperation was at the core — like he was reaching out for me as if I was a buoy in a storm.

  If anything, it alarmed me. I tried to pull away from his frantic hands and mouth so I could look at him better. “Hey. What’s up, seriously? What’s all this about?”

  Tarek wouldn’t look at me, though he didn’t try to break away yet, either. He stared an intense hole into the ground, instead. When he finally spoke, he sounded surprisingly calm, all things considered.

  “I just need this,” he stated, as if it was a simple matter of fact. “Okay?”

  “Wait,” I started, but was cut off once again as he launched himself at me a second time, capturing my lips with his own. Though a part of me was undeniably already starting to get turned on, I broke away.

  This time, I just looked at him. I really studied his face; the furrow of his brow, the dip of his frown lines. Finally, he raised his eyes to look at me, too.

  I could feel the sting of sympathy jut through my chest. I wasn’t sure what he was going through, but that was an expression that I could recognize. It seemed like whatever he was dealing with was a righteous personal demon. I could try to talk it out with him, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood for words.

  So I responded in the one way that I knew would be reciprocated right now: I leaned in to close the distance between us and kissed him back.

  Compared to the first time we’d had sex together, this time was frenzied. His hands scrabbled quickly at my shirt and pants, as if he couldn’t get them off me fast enough. There wasn’t any slowness, no sweet teasing. The foreplay was all but nonexistent this time. In fact, it seemed like I blinked and we were already undressed, frantically pawing at each othe
r as we kissed and kissed.

  As we proceeded, a strange sensation filled the air. It was as if something between us was missing, or maybe like we were lost, and trying to find a way within each other. He bit down on my shoulder, and I returned the favor.

  “Are you ready?” I murmured into the shell of his ear, trailing my hand down his back and over the curve of his ass. No matter how desperate things felt at the moment, I wasn’t about to launch any rude surprises his way.

  When I felt him nod against my shoulder, I slid a finger inside, trying to ease the sure burn of lube-less penetration by going slow and steady. With the way he jerked back into it, though, I wasn’t sure if slow and steady was what he wanted.

  Unlike before, preparation this time felt almost purely utilitarian. I pushed one finger in and out first, and added a second one soon after, then a third. I flipped him around and pulled him to my chest.

  “Ready?” I questioned again.

  Through gritted teeth, he responded. “Yeah, ready.”

  I slowly guided my cock into his ass, trying to move gently so as not to cause any more hurt than barebacking naturally did. Again, he seemed seized by a sort of impatience that drove him to slam himself back down onto me, moving in quick and short bursts.

  We carried on like that for what felt like hours and seconds all in one. My thrusts got more frantic to keep up with his own wild pace, which fluctuated in rhythm but was always fast, so fast. We tumbled into a pile of hay together as we got closer and closer to the edge, though before then, I felt a hand against my ass, too.