by Anna Edwards
Minutes pass, and I start to worry. I don’t know my way around his place, but I’m hoping it’s not too dissimilar to my own. Slowly moving to stand, I’m relieved when I feel steadier on my feet. Still gripping the box in one hand, I use my other to feel my way around, cursing the fact I don’t have my phone on me. I was trying to find it when I fell over at home and hit my head in the first place.
I’m not sure why I gave up trying to find it and came here instead, but I guess a part of me wanted to make sure Will was okay even if I wasn’t. I don’t know anyone but him, not that we’re well acquainted or anything, but he’s here in the same building and no one else is.
Inching my way through the darkness, I use the walls for support and to guide me to where I’m hoping the bathroom is. When I feel the solid wood of a door beneath my palm, I gently push it open. It’s pitch black, but I can hear Will’s wheezy breaths shuddering out of him.
“Will? Are you all right?” I question, moving into the room.
He doesn’t answer, and his irregular breathing pattern is alarming.
“Drew,” he gasps on an exhale, and I’m relieved he’s conscious.
“Reach out for me,” I tell him, stretching out a hand into the room and trying to find where he is.
When his hand brushes against my arm, I grab for it with mine and press the box into it.
“It’s the one from the table, I don’t know if it’s the right…” I begin to ask him whether it is the correct medication when I’m interrupted by the sound of cardboard being torn.
This is swiftly followed by a sort of rattling sound, a click, and whoosh, which I presume is him administering his inhaler. Then maybe ten to fifteen seconds later, Will lets out a shuddery breath, and the sounds repeat. I hope he’s going to be all right.
Chapter Five
Will
I can’t fucking breathe. I’m fighting with my own body to draw in oxygen, and failing spectacularly. My chest is restricted; my lungs feel like they’re on fire. Even though Drew can hear me struggling, I’m glad the power is down, so he can’t see what I’m going through right now. It’s bad enough he knows, even if he seems surprisingly okay with it.
Once the relief medication starts to kick in, and my airways slowly reopen, I force myself to take even, measured breaths to regulate my breathing and maximize my oxygen intake. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. On repeat until my head feels clearer and has stopped spinning.
My chest aches, and my throat is dry. Reaching up from where I'm perched on the edge of the bathtub, I fumble around the bathroom counter searching for something to drink from. On finding a plastic cup, I fill it with water from the faucet, which isn’t the most hygienic, but right now I don’t give a fuck.
I never found the flashlight; I was too busy trying not to suffocate while having an attack. I couldn’t even call out to Drew, and I didn’t have any medicines in here, having left them on the table in my eagerness to escape the elephant in the room in the shape of my inhaler.
That’s when I notice the warm palms on my thighs, and the hands rubbing soothingly up and down them, Drew. Pushing his hands off me, I look away even though he can’t see how embarrassed I’m feeling…weak.
“I’m not weak,” I tell him, hating how faint my voice is.
“I never said you were,” he replies.
His voice is husky, and he places his hands back on my thighs, continuing to rub them as though I never brushed him off.
“Asshole,” I mumble, and he chuckles at me.
“That’s your role, not mine,” he retorts. I can hear the smile in his voice.
The lights come back on with a flicker, illuminating the small room as well as Drew who is kneeling on the black tiles in front of me. His closeness and position are making me uncomfortable, particularly knowing the reason he’s in here with me. I suck in a sharp breath, and then let it out slowly.
“Thanks for bringing me this, but I want you to leave now,” I tell him, embarrassment burning in my throat as I choke out the words.
His smile fades as quickly as it would’ve if I’d gut-punched him, and I suppose, in a way, I’ve done just that. But I can’t handle the thought of him seeing me like this, especially when I don’t even know him. Not to mention, his outwardly friendly personality, which has me on edge. People aren’t usually nice to me. They look at me like I’m nothing, and because of how they treat me, I don’t like people.
Drew makes me feel vulnerable even though he’s never once looked at me like the others do. I need him gone, and I need to get these damn meds put away. Hopefully, he’ll leave and give me the privacy I’m desperately craving right now.
Drew stands slowly; his once warm expression is now cold, and without another word he turns around and leaves. The sound of the front door slamming shut echoes through the apartment, and the silence that follows is deafening.
A feeling of guilt stirs, but I squash it down, not wanting to acknowledge it. He’s right, but I’m an asshole because I have to be. I may be wrong about him, but I don’t know whether I want to risk it, just in case I’m not.
My hand is clenched so tightly around the inhaler the edges are digging painfully into my palm. Slowly releasing my grip, I open my fingers and stare down at the blue plastic with the silver aerosol pressed into the top.
I’m dependent on this small device, and it frustrates me when I think about how shit everything is when I don’t use it. Medication won’t fix lungs that don’t function as they should, but it certainly helps me muddle through each day. In spite of what Drew said about a lot of people having it, and it not being a big deal, I can’t help but feel so damn helpless when I’m in the throes of an attack.
That’s when the taunts ring through my ears. I’ve grown up being told I’m weak, I should stop faking it, and that nothing is wrong with me. It’s times like these when I especially hate everything about my condition. I don’t share it with people because I never want to see the judgement in their eyes or hear the same scathing remarks, which have followed me around my entire life ever since my diagnosis at three years old.
“You’re such a faker. It’s not asthma, you’re just lazy!” Aunt Becca declares, smacking me on the back when I start to wheeze.
“If you were more active then this wouldn’t happen. You don't exercise enough to stay healthy, and there’s nothing wrong with your lungs. It’s all a bunch of doctor crap,” she rails on, thumping me again when I struggle to inhale.
“Stop it, he can’t breathe!” Mom snaps, shoving my aunt out of the way and pulling an inhaler from her purse.
My back aches from where Aunt Becca hit me. I can’t breathe and my head is spinning.
One Week Later...
I’m just about to insert the key into the lock, after collecting the mail from the box downstairs, when a hand grabs me by the arm, spins me around, and pushes me up against my own front door.
I’m only half surprised to see Drew crowding me and getting in my space. I’ve been avoiding him since I kicked him out of my apartment last week. I acted like a complete dick after he helped me through the asthma attack.
Masking my surprise, I tilt my head expectantly, waiting for him to either say something or to back the hell off.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he states, accusation in his tone.
“Do you have a point to this? Or are you in the habit of waylaying your neighbors on their way home from collecting their mail?” I grit out, not wanting to admit my blood is racing, and I’m intrigued by this rough, angry side of Drew.
“You’re an asshole, and it’s pissing me off,” he says bluntly, and I scoff.
“All I suggested was we could be friends, like normal fucking neighbors. Since the beginning you’ve acted like a complete dick,” Drew snaps at me.
Letting out an annoyed sigh, I meet his gaze. Just like the day I met him, his stunning blue eyes captivate me, and I can’t look away from him. We’re caught in a silent standoff: me being too stubborn to back down,
and Drew full of fire and trying to draw me out. I don’t know what to make of this situation; an unease mixed with something I’m reluctant to admit to begins to stir in my chest.
Chapter Six
Drew
All I intended to do was stop him from running, so I could actually talk to him. This is the first time I’ve been able to catch him off guard and get close enough for us to exchange words. I’ve knocked on Will’s door a few times when I’ve known he’s home, but he’s been ignoring my presence.
I may be coming across a bit more strongly than I meant to, but for some reason I can’t let this go…just like when we first met. He’s interesting, and I think there’s more to him than he’s willing to show anyone, and I don’t simply mean his asthma.
From the day he crashed into me outside the pharmacy, I’ve been intrigued by him, and I can’t seem to shake him off. With him just across the hall, it’s impossible to ignore our proximity, especially right now with me holding him in place.
Will’s gaze is fixed on my face, and I’m not sure what he’s reading in my expression, but he seems just as incapable of looking away as I am. His brown eyes appear to darken the longer he stares, and I can feel my heart rate quicken.
Something is happening between us, and neither of us are backing down. For once, Will is making no effort to get away from me, and I haven’t loosened my hold on him. He’s pinned up against the door, but I know if he wanted to he could easily break my grip.
“Come over,” I order, expecting him to decline.
Will’s lips twitch, his eyes darken even further, and before I can utter another word he knocks my arms away. I’m unable to do anything more, because in the split second it takes me to process this, our positions have already been swapped, and I’m pushed up against my door with his lips crashing down onto mine.
I’m so shocked by the sudden change in him I don’t fight him off, and in all honesty, I don’t want to. This side of Will is a surprise, but one I’m eager to explore. He tastes like coffee and sugar, and I find myself ravenous for more of his delicious mouth.
Our tongues tangle as each of us uses our lips to fight for control of the kiss. He’s owning my mouth with his, and fuck… I don’t want to stop him. Grabbing a fistful of his hair in one hand and reaching behind me with the other, I twist the handle to my apartment door and push it open.
Will is a private man, and even with him as caught up in this moment as I am, someone coming along and seeing us could make him run again. Not to mention, in here I have him all to myself, and there is no chance of someone coming along and interrupting our moment. I just hope he doesn’t change his mind, because I’m not sure I would be able to let him run after this.
Making our way through the apartment toward my bedroom, I kick the door open and push him down onto my bed, leaning in to keep our lips together. Will’s breathing begins to get shallower, and I break away from his mouth to allow him to recover, but I don’t stop kissing him. His head falls back and I make my way down his neck, biting and sucking on his hot skin; I nip at his collarbone and shoulder before slowly working my way back up.
The low groan rumbling in his throat vibrates against my lips, and I want nothing more than to hear it again. His fingers trail up my arms and the back of my neck to twist in my hair, and he lifts my face until our eyes are locked together.
Fierce longing tugs at my heart and kicks my desire into high gear. I’m so fucking hard for him and the teeth of the zipper on my pants is digging painfully into my cock, but I ignore it as best I can. I focus on Will because I want to take care of him before I even think of alleviating the ache he’s created in me.
“Drew,” he says quietly, and his husky voice sends hot sparks of lust shooting downward.
“I’m not sure I can do this with you,” he admits slowly, and I feel his words stab into me like small knives, and I can’t help flinching.
I turn away, breathing deeply as I fight for composure and to calm my racing heart. Will’s hand pulls on my hair, forcing me to face him again, and the flash of want burns brightly in his eyes before quickly fading until it’s barely a flicker.
“I want to explore and lose myself with you, but I’m fucking terrified of drowning in you,” he gasps, the tell-tale wheeze escaping his parted lips.
“I promise I’ll keep you above the water so you can breathe, Will,” I tell him, and my fucking heart is in my throat while I wait for him to say something else.
It’s on his face, plain as day, this is painful for him, and I know what I need to do is take a step back and allow him to breathe rather than suffocate him. But there’s something between us: it’s intense, and I can see how hard he’s fighting against it. I can see how even now he’s fighting to control himself, so he doesn’t get worked up into a panic.
“Deep breaths,” I order him, and he scowls.
Will struggles to take slow, measured breaths. He’s fighting so hard for it, and I know immediately what I need to do.
“Give me your key. I’ll be right back,” I say, and he looks at me sharply but hands it over.
Darting out of my apartment, I make my way across the hall and insert the key into the lock. The key sticks and I have to jiggle it around to release it, but once free, I open the door and enter. I flit through his apartment to locate his bedroom and go over to his bedside table, knowing that if I needed medicine like he does, I’d keep it close to hand. Relief floods through me when I open the top drawer, and it holds what I’m searching for.
There are two inhalers sitting in the drawer: one brown, and one blue. I’m not sure which he needs, so I grab both and hurry back to my apartment, and to Will who is now sitting on the edge of the bed. Handing him the inhalers, I watch to see what he does. He looks at me pointedly with his eyebrows raised, and I look away, giving him some privacy.
His wheezing breaths scare me, but when the sounds I heard the night of the power outage reach my ears, I know he’s taking his medicine. Keeping my eyes averted, I wait for him to finish because now I understand he feels self-conscious about using them in front of me.
“You don’t have to be ashamed of using them. I don’t think any less of you for having asthma, Will. It’s just another part of you, and it doesn’t change the fact I want you,” I tell him, the words coming easily.
Chapter Seven
Will
Drew’s words resonate in my mind while I concentrate on regulating my breaths, now I’m able to actually do so. The breathing exercises, in through my nose, out through my mouth, help, and after a few moments, I’m breathing more evenly and normally, but I’m still feeling the strain on my chest. I jump when Drew sits next to me on the bed and starts rubbing my back.
I’m not used to having someone who accepts this side of me so easily. Drew isn’t looking at me like he thinks I’m weak or pathetic; his expression is full of concern, but there’s also a layer of want just beneath the surface. He doesn’t seem to care I’m fucking broken, and I’ll never be a fully functioning man who doesn’t choke on oxygen nearly every day.
I’ve been burned before, and I’m reluctant to put myself in that position again, but he’s already working his way under my skin. Looking away, I close my eyes, and inhale a deep, shuddery breath. I’m relieved to feel my chest expand as it should after taking the medicine, and the oxygen now flooding to my brain clears my fuzzy head.
I initiated the kiss between us, but I think it would have happened regardless. My attempts to dodge him over the last week have only intensified the magnetism between us. When Drew cornered me in the hallway, he threw gasoline on the fire that was already starting to burn inside me.
Drew isn’t easily swayed, and I think that’s what has made the biggest impact. He met me at my weakest, gave as good as he got when I was being an asshole, and he still came back swinging, ready for more.
I twist my head to look at him, and I let out a short laugh when I think about how determined he’s been, and how his whole face lights up with a gr
in when I smile at him. I must be crazy for doing this, but for the first time in years, I’m feeling like there’s someone worth the risk of getting hurt for.
Drew runs his fingers up my back, and the sensation sends an involuntary shiver down my spine, and I can’t stop the shudder. Drew smiles smugly at my reaction and continues until his fingers are threaded through my hair just like I did to him moments before.
This time, he’s the one to lean forward and kiss me, but like before, neither of us is willing to give up the control. The heat that spikes between us steals my breath, in the best way possible.
Drew pulls my hair, tugging me even closer to him until our bodies are pressed together, and the heat between us slowly builds into an inferno. My mind is spinning; the way Drew feels beneath my mouth and hands with his hard body flush against mine, it’s impossible to think of anything else…even breathing.
He holds me tightly to him, and our mouths mold together. I groan when he bites my lip, sucking it into his mouth, and then he chuckles, his breath puffing warmly against my face.
When the hand that Drew doesn’t currently have fisted in my hair slips down between us, landing on the bulge in my pants, my heart jumps and I falter.
“I want to touch you,” Drew murmurs against my lips, and I inhale sharply, then moan deeply when he strokes over the denim pulled taut over my cock.
I feel him smile, and I shiver when he applies more pressure while maneuvering us around, so I’m lying beneath him on the bed, and he’s leaning over me. My heart is racing, and I open my eyes, wanting to see what he’s going to do next.