by Lynn VanDorn
Rachel took a large gulp of coffee. “Do you have any idea what the two of you are doing?” She sounded more tired than angry now.
“Not really, but I'd still like you to back off.” Tyler pasted on a smile he didn't feel. “I'm not planning on hurting your brother. I'm not planning on anything. I just need to get through the next several weeks and then—”
“You'll leave him here, alone.”
Brad pulled out the last stitch and applied butterfly bandages to the wound. “He could move, you know.”
“Who, me?” Tyler shook his head. “No. I am not moving back to Illinois. No way, no how, not gonna happen.”
“No, dumbass. I meant Josh.”
Tyler and Rachel both looked at Brad.
“All I'm saying is that Josh isn't required to live his entire life in Illinois. People do move. It's a thing.”
“But, honey, this is my brother we’re talking about, remember?”
Brad started cleaning up the table. “He followed Ryan out to Stanford,” he reminded them.
“Yeah,” Tyler agreed, “but that was Ryan. I'm not Ryan.”
Brad grinned at him. “No, you're not.”
“Anyway, it’s been, like, a week. Josh is probably going to be sick of me by the time my publicist and agent decide that the current crisis is over, so stop worrying.”
“Or you'll be sick of him,” Rachel said.
Tyler made a noncommittal noise.
“Or, option c, none of the above,” added Brad.
Tyler raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“You'll figure it out,” Brad said. “You’re a bright boy.” He ruffled Tyler’s hair again. “No matter what anyone says.”
“I hate you,” Tyler said with a scowl. “Now hit the road. Buy her mimosas until she stops being angry.”
“There is not enough orange juice and champagne in this world,” Rachel said, but she already seemed to have notched down from angry to resigned. “I'll see you at the wedding rehearsal on Friday. Five p.m. at the Field, then dinner afterward. Don't forget.”
“We'll be there. Now get out. I have a grumpy dermatologist to deal with.”
“Tyler—” Rachel began, a warning note in her voice.
“See you on Friday!” Brad said and strong-armed his fiancée out the door.
Chapter 26
Josh Stays Home
Sunday, September 25th, 8:15 a.m.
Josh’s immaculate kitchen
Evanston, IL
The kiss burned Josh’s lips after Tyler left to go take his shower, and Josh knew he was blushing. He cleared his throat. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Brad and his sister, “It's not what it looks like,” but that was a lie and all three of them knew it.
Brad took a seat at the kitchen table. “So,” he said brightly, “I see you and Tyler are getting along.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Rachel glared at her soon-to-be spouse. “This isn't funny.”
“That’s where you're wrong,” Brad said, “because it really is. I've got to say, Josh, I'm kind of put out. I mean, what am I, chopped liver?”
“Shut up,” Josh said, smiling despite himself.
“What? So, you never once looked at me that whole time we lived together and thought, ‘hey, I could turn that straight boy gay.’ That hurts.”
Josh almost said, Yeah, because that worked out so well for me with Ryan that I'd want to try it with you, too, but stopped himself. Instead he held onto his smile and made his voice light. “Converting straight boys takes effort, and it's not like Chicago has a shortage of gay men. It's a whole cost-benefit analysis thing.” Which was true, of course, but not the whole truth. At first, rooming with Brad had been exquisitely painful because of his physical resemblance to Ryan, but over time it got easier as he and Brad became friends. Brad shifted in his mind from the younger version of the man he'd loved into just Brad, his roommate, friend, and someone who was like Ryan only in very small ways, other than looks.
Brad sighed dramatically. “Even so, it’d be nice to know that you checked out my ass from time to time. Just so I don't feel like the Chadwick ugly duckling or something.”
“Stand up. I'll check it out now, if it would make you feel better.”
“You two are impossible,” Rachel said with a huff. “This is serious.”
Brad reached a hand out and rubbed her stiff shoulders. “Hon, you need to let this go. What Josh does with either of my brothers is his business, not yours. Not even by proxy, since I don't care beyond hoping that things work out and no one ends up not speaking to someone. They're grown-ups. Let them screw their lives up however they want.”
Rachel bit her lip.
“I told you years ago that you and I dating might be a problem for Josh, remember? And you said it was fine, that we weren't serious and it wasn't like we were planning on getting married.”
“He never…” Rachel looked at Josh. “You never said anything.”
Josh opened his mouth, but Brad spoke first. “Of course not. He loves you and he has no spine.”
“Seriously, Brad, fuck you. And it's fine, Rach,” Josh said. “Really, it's fine.”
“You just said it wasn't fine thirty seconds ago,” Rachel said. “I just… I don't want you hurt. Although I'm not going to let Brad go for your sake.” Rachel gave him a small, somewhat worried smile.
“Oh, like I want to make that phone call to our parents: ‘Yeah, unfortunately the wedding’s off. Rachel marrying Brad hurts my feelings because once upon a time I had a thing for Brad’s brother. So. Sorry about your deposit and all.’”
“Once upon a time?” Rachel asked. “As in not now?”
Josh shrugged. “Ryan’s moved on. Hell, he moved on years and years ago. Anyway, I have, too. As you’ve been telling me for ages, it's past time, right?”
“And what about Tyler?”
“Yeah, what about Tyler?” Tyler asked. His hair was wet and just combed back, he still hadn't shaved, and he wore a t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked older than he was. There was a pinched, tense look on his face. He was a less-grubby version of the disreputable elf Josh had first encountered last week, and still beautiful enough to make Josh’s heart trip a little in his chest.
“Tyler is…” he began, then stopped.
Tyler was a dream vacation. He was a gorgeous island in the tropics with crystalline beaches, surrounded by an ocean that was the same blue-gray-green of his eyes. The kind of place that you visit and fall in love with and fantasize about living on forever, but then you go back home to your cold Midwestern city and your sensible life and of course you never move there.
Tyler was a pipe dream, but Josh couldn't exactly say that out loud. “Tyler is none of your business. I didn't butt in when you started dating Brad. Keep your nose out of this.”
Rachel frowned at him. “And when it all goes to hell?”
“I'll deal with it.”
“Yeah, because you dealt with it so well the last time you dated a Chadwick.”
Josh opened his mouth to say he and Ryan had never dated, then shut it. Instead he shrugged. This thing with Tyler was bound to go to hell, just like she predicted, but he wasn't going to give his sister the satisfaction of agreeing with her. Not today, at any rate.
“Buy stock in Ben & Jerry’s,” Tyler suggested. “Josh, why don't you go take your shower? While you're in there, Brad will take out my stitches.”
–—
Sunday, September 25th, 9:13 a.m.
Josh’s blue and gray tiled master bath
Evanston, IL
Tyler came into the bathroom and started shaving just as Josh was toweling himself dry.
“I've got more than one bathroom,” he said.
“I know,” Tyler replied, running a safety razor along his throat as he looked at a blurry image of himself in the mirror he had wiped free of condensation. Josh wanted to lick along the smooth, newly shaven skin that Tyler revealed stripe by careful stripe. Instead he watche
d and dried himself off.
“This is the first time I've seen you shave with a regular razor,” Josh said, wrapping the towel around his waist.
“That’s because you haven't babyproofed this place, thank God. Like I could do any real damage with this thing.” Tyler snorted. “It's a good thing you didn't watch when Sydney’s pal Sam came to cut my hair. She used a straight razor on me. I think you might’ve had a heart attack, Sir Worrywart.”
“If she was wielding it and not you, I think my heart would've survived.”
“I'm glad you keep regular razors around this place. Sometimes,” Tyler said, moving onto the side of his jaw, “you just need something extremely sharp. Your electric razor gives a shitty shave unless you like being a bit scruffy, which I will admit is a good look on you. I need to buy you a better one, though. If you're going to be scruffy it should be intentional. And you do have a birthday coming up.”
“You don't need to get me a birthday present.” Josh watched the razor as it very carefully did not cut Tyler’s skin. It made him nervous, but there was something sexy about it, too.
“Sure, I do. Thirty-five is a very important birthday.” Tyler took a bit of shaving cream and dabbed it on Josh’s nose. “Go get dressed. I’ll be done in a minute.”
Josh swiped at his nose, then went into the bedroom and threw his towel in the hamper. He walked to the dresser but stopped, looking at his bed and the rumpled covers, the obvious result of two people having slept together. He usually either made the bed or changed the sheets as soon as he got up, but today Rachel had happened. This morning had been hellish, his sister’s shouting at him the aural equivalent of being doused with a huge water balloon.
Josh started to make the bed then stopped, suddenly exhausted despite a good night's sleep. He crawled facedown onto the bed and stewed on his messy, rumpled bedding.
“Hey, you feel okay?” Josh felt Tyler’s hand caress his calf, ruffling the hair on it. “I can take a taxi to the airport if you're not up to driving me. It’s fine.”
No, it's not fine. Josh didn't want Tyler to go, or he didn't want Tyler to go without him, which was stupid. Tyler had an audition tomorrow and Josh had to go to work since he'd just had a whole week off. Besides, Tyler would be back before he knew it. Missing him before he'd even left was ridiculous. “No, I'll take you,” Josh said, his voice muffled by the pillow.
Tyler’s hand travelled higher, over the back of his knee and up his thigh. “You planning on wearing this? I must admit, it's a fetching ensemble. I hear it's what all the hippest emperors are wearing this year.”
Josh sighed when Tyler’s hand reached the crease where his thigh became his ass. “If you don't stop,” Josh said, “we won't have time to get breakfast before your flight.”
“To hell with breakfast.” Tyler removed his hand and Josh felt momentarily bereft, but then Tyler was there, insinuating himself between Josh’s legs. He kissed down Josh’s spine from the nape of his neck to the upper cleft of his ass. “This is much better.”
Tyler spread Josh’s cheeks, then started to lick him with careful deliberation. It was too much, especially on this gray morning when Josh could almost taste in the back of his throat what the end of them would be like: all bitter and ashy and cold. “Oh, God. You don't… shouldn't…”
Tyler lifted his mouth and blew lightly on the damp skin, making Josh shudder. “Stop worrying for once in your life and just let me do this, okay? I've wanted to for… so long. You have no idea.”
Josh’s erection throbbed, trapped between his body and the bed sheet, leaking precum like it was a broken faucet, creating his own little personal wet spot. He tried to keep his body still, to relax and make things easier for Tyler, but he couldn't keep his hips from moving, even with Tyler holding onto him hard enough that he was probably leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on his hips. Tyler’s mouth was molten hot on his sensitive skin and the sensation was nearly overwhelming. It was too stimulating, too pleasurable, and far too intimate. Tyler’s mouth on him was exquisite torture and Josh wasn't sure how much more he could take, while at the same time never wanting it to stop. He was nearly mindless by the time Tyler lifted his head.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” Tyler asked, his voice husky and low. He ran his hands along Josh’s sides from his ribs down to his thighs, his short nails dragging with a delicious pressure that was almost but not quite painful.
“Oh, God, yes.”
Josh heard him undress, then open a condom wrapper, and he writhed in anticipation, the sound of clothes hitting the floor and the tearing of foil being enough to shoot bolts of aching need to his balls and cock. Tyler’s fingers, cool and wet with lube, pressed inside him, first two, then three, fucking him hard and stroking along his prostate, but it wasn't enough. Josh groaned with frustration.
He felt Tyler remove his fingers, leaving him empty and wanting. “What position do you want?” Tyler asked in a blasé tone, like he was asking if Josh wanted chicken or fish for dinner. It was infuriating. “Like this, or on your back, or… you know, this is the thing with you being so much taller. It decreases our options.”
Josh rolled over and out of the wet spot he'd made. He spread his legs and bent his knees, then shoved a pillow under his ass. He grabbed his aching erection and stroked it. “Shut up and just fuck me,” he said. “God, you talk too much.”
Tyler moved between Josh’s spread thighs and ran his hands up and down his legs. “Just for that I should talk the entire time.”
“Good luck with that. I bet you can't.” Stupid bet. Tyler could, and would.
“Ooh, a challenge. You should know by now I can't resist a challenge.”
Josh felt Tyler’s cock nudge at his entrance. He pushed forward slowly. So very slowly. Josh gritted his teeth, keeping himself from shoving his body onto Tyler’s dick, wanting to let it be slow so it would last.
Tyler moved inside Josh with shallow thrusts while he arranged Josh’s legs so they rested against his shoulders. He bit the side of Josh’s leg, then thrust all the way in, past the internal sphincter and deep inside. Josh loved fucking Tyler, loved claiming Tyler’s body with his dick, but he loved this, too. Being taken in return, possessed, owned. As if Tyler wasn't planning on waltzing out of his life at the earliest opportunity.
“Whatever you're thinking, Dr. Rosen, stop it. Do you hear me?”
Josh closed his eyes, knowing he was lost and almost not caring.
Tyler increased his speed a fraction. It felt so good Josh could barely focus on what Tyler was saying. “Let's see here. Did you know that I am extremely fond of your hair?” Tyler flexed his hips and moved with careful deliberation.
“My hair?” Josh tried to concentrate on the feeling of Tyler inside him, filling him and fucking him. Meanwhile, Tyler kept talking, his voice as modulated and smooth as the precise movement of his hips and pelvis. Josh let his legs slide down from Tyler's shoulders, then he wrapped them around his waist.
“Yeah. You have amazing hair, Josh. I even like those gray hairs of yours. They're surprisingly sexy, you know. And your eyes are gorgeous, so dark and warm. It's such a cliché to say they're like chocolate, but start thinking about other warm brown things and you run into trouble. Yours are the color of really good, expensive dark chocolate. Wrapped in gold foil just like those gold flecks in your eyes. Open them up. I want to see your eyes, Josh. Now.”
Josh opened his presumably chocolate eyes and stared at Tyler, wishing he had his glasses on. He couldn't make out Tyler’s eyes at all, and wondered what color they were now, but his body was easy enough to see. Every thrust made his pale, slender form gyrate, almost as if he was dancing to music only he could hear.
“Your eyes right now, though, are black. Pupils completely blown because you want this, don't you? You want me. Touch yourself,” Tyler demanded, his voice implacable. “I want you to come before I do.”
“Uh…” Josh’s brain, limping along on a limited supply of blood and oxygen, struggled to k
eep up.
“Hand on your dick, doctor. I swear you lose at least sixty IQ points when we fuck. If we ever play Trivial Pursuit we're doing it naked.”
Josh stoked himself obediently. “I’ll still win,” he said. Then, “Fuck,” as Tyler sped up his thrusting. He started to moan and whimper, unable to stop the incoherent sounds he was making.
Tyler panted with effort as he picked up his pace. “I love that… you seem like… this totally uptight guy. Full of… good manners and… all that… but underneath… you’re…”
“What?” Josh gasped.
“Such a big needy slut.” Tyler stopped moving. “Aren't you?”
“Tyler,” he growled. He rocked his hips in frustration.
Tyler started thrusting again, but with glacial slowness. It was driving Josh insane. “My slut. Say it, Josh.”
“God. Yes. Yours.” No point in denying the obvious. “Please.” That last came out as a desperate whine.
Tyler gripped Josh’s thighs hard and his movement sped up again. “I'm so close. Are you close, Josh?”
“Almost… there… just fuck me, Tyler, please, shut up and fuck me.”
“Come on, come for me,” Tyler moaned, moving faster and with more force. “Come while I'm still talking. Come while I tell you… how… fucking amazing… oh God… you’re just so…”
Tyler’s hips thrust hard twice more, then stilled while Josh rapidly pumped his cock. Tyler, still inside him, still hard, leaned forward and bit Josh low on his shoulder, right by his collarbone. It hurt, but it also arrowed pleasure right to his balls and he nearly came just from that. He was so close, skating right on the edge, and it was agony and bliss rolled together into one intoxicating package.
Tyler thrust one last time into him, shuddered, and sank onto Josh’s chest, twitching a little with the pleasure of his orgasm. Josh wound the hand not buried between their bodies in Tyler’s hair. “I win,” he gasped. “What do I get?”
Tyler panted, “What do you want?”