Guys on Top (12 page)

Doug ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. Yeah, sounds good.”

“See you soon.”

It was only a drink. Some conversation. Harmless.
Yeah, right.

Technicalities aside, Stewart was pretty much defying Corey’s wishes to meet with him. And Doug had agreed to it. Regardless of his dislike for Corey, it felt wrong, like Doug was becoming everything he hated. But it also felt...exciting. Like a secret meeting, something forbidden, and Doug was stunned by the thrill that gave him. So much for his moral high ground.

He tried to feel guilty, but was too wound up about seeing Stewart. So he got up, left Wyatt a note, and headed out.

Chapter Eight

For the first time since moving into the apartment house, Doug climbed the wooden staircase to the second floor, and knocked on Stewart’s door. Stewart opened the door smiling, in jeans with a long sleeved, blue cotton jersey that matched his gorgeous eyes. Doug couldn’t speak for a moment, his overpowering attraction to this man tightening his throat.

“Hey, just let me grab my keys.”

Stewart disappeared into the kitchen and Doug stepped just inside the doorway, his eyes darting around the living room. The layout of the apartment was identical to his, but that’s where the similarities ended. Walls a soothing pale green, lots of bamboo decorations, brown leather furniture and healthy looking plants, it was like walking into a spa. And it was immaculately clean, the wood floor gleaming. Doug wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but with all the parties he’d heard taking place up here, he supposed he’d though he’d find more of a frat house atmosphere. But everything was stylish and crisp and calm, the scent of eucalyptus hanging in the air.

Stewart came out of the kitchen. “Okay, ready?”

“Yeah.”

It was a nice night, spring breeze cool but soft as they made the trek down to the bar. Stewart seemed in a good mood, whistling periodically as they walked. “Where’s Corey tonight?” Doug asked.

“Oh, a friend of his is having a hard time, so Corey’s staying over there, trying to help out.”

“Helping him find his bliss?” Doug asked, sarcasm bubbling up before he could stop it.

Stewart glanced at him as they walked. “It’s a
her
. And her mother just died. So I doubt they’ll be any bliss involved.”

“Oh, shit,” Doug said. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

Stewart laughed. “It’s okay. Corey’s been giving you a hard time, I get it. But he does have a compassionate side, you just haven’t seen it.”

Doug nodded, but decided to keep his big mouth shut.

“Can I ask a favor?” Stewart said as they approached the front door of Bernie’s Brew Pub.

“Yeah, sure.”

Stewart stopped and faced Doug. “Can we not talk about Corey tonight?”

Doug nodded. “Yeah. Of course. No Corey talk. I promise.”

“Good.” Stewart’s delicious smile returned, and he opened the heavy wooden door, waving Doug in ahead of him.

While there were a lot of people inside, the bar wasn’t nearly as crowded as it had been Friday night, lots of empty tables now. There was no band, but festive music played over the sound system. A man and woman immediately approached and greeted Stewart with hugs and handshakes. Her hair was long and twisted into dreadlocks, the man tall and lanky. “Where’s Corey?” the woman asked, then her eyes darted to Doug.

“This is my neighbor, Doug,” Stewart said, making introductions.

“Hi.” Doug shook each of their hands, feeling awkward.

“We’re gonna grab a table, nice to see you guys.”

“You too, Stewart,” the guy said. “Nice to meet, you, Doug.”

“Same here.”

Doug followed Stewart to a table in a darkened corner, which pleased him. He’d been disappointed when the couple approached, thinking he wouldn’t get Stewart to himself. It didn’t go unnoticed to him that Stewart ignored their question about where Corey was.

As Doug sat down, Stewart said “What do you want to drink?”

“I can get it,” Doug said, rising from his chair. “You bought me a drink last time I came here.”

“I did a lot of things last time you came here,” Stewart said with a gleam in his eye. “Sit. I’ll get it.”

Doug laughed. “Ah, okay.” He sat back down. “Beer then. Whatever kind you’re getting. Surprise me.”

Stewart left the table and returned shortly after with two draft beers, setting them down. He took his seat and looked across the table at Doug, blue eyes soft. “I’m glad you called.”

“I’m glad you didn’t mind. I was afraid you’d think I was stalking you.”

Stewart grinned. “You know where I live. If you wanted to stalk me, you wouldn’t have to call.”

Doug nodded, grinning. “Speaking of, I saw you leave early this morning while I was getting ready for my run. You had to work?”

“Yeah,” Stewart said. “Plumbing job. I work a lot of weekends.”

“You like the work?”

“Yeah, I do, actually.” Stewart smiled at him. “I like looking at a problem and figuring out how to solve it, put it all back together again to make it work. Even if it’s just pipes and valves, I find it satisfying.”

“I get that,” Doug said. “What I do is similar in a way.” He took a sip of beer, growing comfortable. This felt good. Talking with Stewart about normal, life stuff.

Yeah, like friends
, his mind taunted. But okay, if they were to be only friends, so be it. He’d take what he could get. Just being in Stewart’s presence made him happy. And eventually...maybe...the flaming, heart-stopping heat he felt when he looked at Stewart would lessen.

“Tell me,” Stewart said. “About your job. How it’s similar.”

Doug shrugged. “Oh well, let me see. Like for instance, we’re working on a new safety valve, to keep oil away from the high-temperature zone in an engine cavity.  That’s easy enough, but the pistons need at least some oil to stay lubricated, but not too much that it’ll combust. I have to figure out how to make that work.”

“So you’ve got brains to go with that beautiful face.” Stewart laughed, giving Doug’s shoulder a playful shove.

Doug grinned, focusing on his beer. While the comment warmed him, he almost wished Stewart would
not
flirt with him. It was confusing.

A handsome, fresh faced guy with a brunette buzz cut approached, leaning over and resting his palms on the table. “Hey, Stewart.”

Stewart looked up at him. “Hey, Zach.”

Doug looked him over. He was young, early twenties with a lean physique, well defined biceps straining against a blue, nylon ribbed tee shirt. Doug felt a tickle of envy—not because the guy was talking to Stewart, but because he possessed that glowing, effortless beauty of youth, a spring blossom that had years to go before it would show any signs of wilting. While Doug only had maybe five or six years on the kid, that smooth, unlined face was a biting reminder of the budding crow’s feet Doug saw when he looked in the mirror every morning. 

“Where’s Corey?” the kid asked.

Stewart gave him a look that was not altogether friendly. “Not here.”

“But where is he?”

“Not here,” Stewart repeated.

“Okay,
fine
.” The kid straightened up, removing his hands from the table. “Just asking.” He turned abruptly and walked away.

Stewart muttered a curse under his breath, and took a sip of beer.

“Who’s that?” Doug asked.

Stewart shook his head. “Zach. One of Corey’s fan club.” He met Doug’s eyes. “This is why I didn’t want to talk about Corey tonight. I get fucking tired of everyone trying to go through me to get to him. And when you told me you talked to your brother about him...” He shrugged, looking down. “I don’t know.”

Doug leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

Stewart looked up. “Corey wins everyone over eventually. I guess I liked the idea that with you...with you, for once it seemed to be only about me.”

“Hold on,” Doug said. “You don’t think I’m into Corey, do you?”

Stewart held his eyes. “I won’t hold it against you if you are. He did come onto you today. And he’s hard to resist.”

Doug laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, Stewart. You couldn’t be any more wrong. I’m not into Corey.” He took a deep breath. “To be honest...” He shook his head, second guessing what he was about to say.

“To be honest, what?” Stewart said, his hand drifting across the table, stopping just before touching Doug’s.

Heat and arousal climbed through Doug, muddying his brain. Stewart’s blue eyes studied him, expectant. “To be honest,” Doug said, “I kind of wish there wasn’t a Corey. I was...I
am
all about you.” He shrugged. “I wish you were single. There. I said it.” He looked away, picking up his beer, afraid to see what was in Stewart’s eyes.

He looked back when Stewart uttered a soft groan. Stewart leaned back in his chair, raking his fingers over his face. He focused back on Doug. “Well, this is a fine mess.”

“No,” Doug said. “I don’t wanna be anyone’s mess. I can be your friend. I can try, anyway.”

“I’m the one who wanted the open relationship,” Stewart blurted out.

Doug’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You...
you
wanted it?”

“You probably figured it was Corey’s idea, right?”

“That’s exactly what I thought. Do you…want to talk about it?”

Shaking his head, Stewart sighed. “I said I didn’t want to talk about him tonight, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you said that. I don’t mind if you do, though. He’s part of your life. I get it.”

Stewart gave Doug’s hand a squeeze. “You’re awesome. I don’t deserve you.”

“You don’t
have
me,” Doug said with a wry grin.

“Thanks for the reminder. Getting ahead of myself.”

Another lurch of excitement welled up in Doug, and he cursed himself for it. He couldn’t get his hopes up here. Getting his hopes up could, and likely would, lead to disaster. Stewart had a boyfriend, for fuck sakes. He lived with him.

Determined to sober his arousal, he looked away from Stewart’s gorgeous face for a moment, pulling his hand back. “Tell me about you and Corey,” he said. “I want to know.”

Stewart twisted his beer glass in a circle as he spoke. “I told you I left England when I was a kid. Fifteen. I had grown up in a kind of rough old coal mining town. I was always getting in fights. My parents had four other kids, and not a lot of money, so they didn’t have much patience with me getting dragged home by the cops with black eyes and bloody knuckles every other week.” He smiled slightly. “So they shipped me off to America to live with my Uncle Tony and his wife in Nebraska. A
very
small town.”

“How was that?” Doug asked.

“
Boring
. But my aunt and uncle were great. Tony taught me the plumbing trade. I liked it, so I studied and advanced and got older, as people do. I was able to get my own business started. But I was still out of my mind bored. There was nothing to do where I lived, one bar, a lot of corn, and not much else. The only gay people in town seemed to be the creepy old guys that hung out at the rest area. I had to get the fuck out. So three years ago, after saving some money, I picked up and moved to Boston.”

“And that’s when you met Corey.”

“Ha, yeah.” Stewart nodded, smiling. “I met Corey the first
week
I was in Boston. My uncle had hooked me up with some friends of his here in the city to help me get on my feet and find a place and all. They wanted to show me a good time, so they took me to a play at The Huntington Theater.
As You Like It
by William Shakespeare. I thought it was gonna be boring as hell. I’d never even been to a play before.”

“But it wasn’t?”

Stewart chuckled. “There was this gorgeous blond guy playing
Orlando
, and I was fucking mesmerized.”

Doug’s jaw fell. “Corey?”

Stewart nodded.

“Corey was an actor?”

“Corey dabbles in everything for a little while until he gets tired of it. He did some local theater for a bit after he left med school. I met him during that time. You can imagine. Here I am, sheltered guy from Nebraska. And here’s Corey, this larger than life presence. I got up my courage to approach him after the play, and he invited me to a party. We started dating, and my life changed.” Stewart smiled, looking distant. “He showed me this whole other world. I was blown away. It was all fun and parties and weird, eccentric people, just the opposite of where I’d come from. It was just what I’d been hoping to find. Better than I could have imagined.”

Shit
, Doug thought. His previous thoughts of stealing Stewart from Corey drifted away on a cloud of dust. He felt a bit foolish, thinking he could compete with Corey. Corey was
Corey
. Beefcake model. Actor. Messiah of the magic hands.

And Doug was just Doug.

“So you fell head over heels in love,” Doug said.

Stewart’s eyelids lowered as he looked down, twisting his beer glass. “I thought I did.” His lashes fluttered as he blinked, and looked up at Doug. “But I think it was more infatuation. Of course, who knows the difference? But everyone wanted Corey. And Corey picked
me
. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t give me a little charge. That I was the guy who won him.”

“I can see the allure,” Doug said. “Were you two...monogamous?”

“At first,” Stewart said. “We moved in together after dating for eight months. We were monogamous for another six months after that. Then he cheated on me.”

Doug went still. “He did?”

Stewart nodded, then his dimpled grin appeared. “Like I said. Corey dabbles in everything for a while. Until he gets tired of it. It was the same with monogamy I guess.”

“So you...what, caught him?”

“No,” Stewart said. “He told me. That’s Corey. Mr. Honesty. He said he was sorry, that he loved me, and wanted me to forgive him. But there had been something else going on with me at the time. The buzz had worn off.” He looked up at Doug. “The spell of Corey had already started to wane. I was falling out of love, I guess. Or infatuation. You know, people say when that initial, new relationship excitement wears off, it gets replaced with something deeper, right? Something quieter, but better.”