Guys on Top (20 page)

But the damn guy was still dominating his thoughts. He’d even dreamed last night about making love with Stewart in a hotel room, and had woken up with the taste of his breath on his lips for a few moments before it faded. His mood tried to sink the more he allowed thoughts of Stewart to bounce around in his head.
It’s just a crush. It will pass. They always pass.

When he got home, a pickup truck sat in the driveway, a pair of kayaks strapped onto the bed. He spotted Corey and Dewey in the garage, peering into the open hood of the Fiat. The two of them glanced over as Doug parked.

“Hey, how’s it going, man?” Dewey said as Doug stepped out of his car.

“Good, you guys going kayaking?”

“Just got back,” Dewey said.

“Hey Corey,” Doug said.

Corey glanced at Doug, grunted, and went back to whatever held his interest under the hood.

Okay, then
. Doug got his bags out of the car and headed inside. He went into the bedroom and put away his purchases, troubled by Corey’s coldness. It seemed Corey was a lot more pissed off at Doug than he’d realized. It was possible of course that something else was bothering Corey, but Doug sensed that he was at least part of it. He glanced out the window when he heard the pickup truck start, and watched Dewey leave. Corey shut the hood of his car, then wandered back into the house, slamming the door.

Doug tried to brush it off. Maybe Corey’s gruff behavior had nothing to do with hearing Doug call him a hooker, among other things. But what if it did? Wyatt was right, Doug wasn’t usually that rude to people. Had he crossed the line with Corey? Should he try to apologize again? They shared a yard and a garage, he was bound to run into him again and again. He didn’t want to have to tip toe around the guy and feel anxious every time their paths crossed.

After a lot of conflicting thoughts and attempts to talk himself out of it, he finally decided to go upstairs and clear the air. Take the high road. He left his apartment and climbed the stairs.

Corey answered moments after Doug knocked, looking cozy and handsome in jeans and a green and white striped rugby shirt. His pale eyes widened when he saw Doug, then he frowned. “Stewart’s not here.”

“I know. I came to talk to you. If you have a minute.”

“Why?”

Doug rolled his eyes. “Can I just come in for a minute, Corey? This won’t take long.”

Corey looked him over, scowling. Finally he stepped back, opening the door. “Okay. Come in.”

He followed Corey into the living room. Again Doug got that sense of calm stepping into the apartment, Celtic music playing softly, the scent of eucalyptus, the pale green walls. Corey sat on the floor in front of his sofa. He picked up a carton of frozen yogurt off the coffee table and dug the spoon in. “So what do you want?” he asked without looking at Doug.

Doug sat on the floor on the other side of the table, mirroring his position. “I want to apologize in person for the other day, after I hurt my back. I might be wrong, but I feel like you’re still mad at me. Are you?”

Corey glanced up at him, then set his yogurt down. He leaned against the couch and looked at Doug. “The morning we first met, when I came to your apartment, you asked me to show you respect. You remember that?”

Doug nodded.

“I’ve tried to do that. My methods might be unconventional, but I’ve tried. I’ve tried talking to you. Being nice. I took you out drinking with me and Stewart. I didn’t have to do that. But I did. And after all that, I find you talking shit about me behind my back.”

“I know,” Doug said. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“So why did you? Really, what have I done to you that’s so bad you have to call me names, talk shit about me to Stewart, of all people?”

“Nothing,” Doug said. He grew anxious, but decided to be honest. This was about clearing the slate, as Wyatt had put it. “I was jealous of you. It was immature and childish, but I was on painkillers. You have to cut me
some
slack.”

Corey shook his head. “Why were you jealous?”

“Because of Stewart.”

Corey stared back at him, then looked down, nodding. “Because of Stewart.” He glanced back at Doug. “Are you still sleeping with him?”

“No!” He shook his head. “No. I’m moving on, I’m dating other people. I said I
was
jealous. I’m human. I was on painkillers, and it just came out. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Who are you dating?” Corey asked.

Doug laughed. “So far, nobody I’d want to date again.” He groaned, rubbing his temples. “God, last night was a disaster. But I’m trying to get back on the horse after a bad breakup, so...” He shrugged. “I’m going out tonight. We’ll see.”

Corey grinned slightly, and Doug was relieved to see his stony demeanor soften a bit. “Dating is hard,” Corey said. “Even for me.”

Doug laughed. “Even for you, huh?”

“Yeah, me. The crazy egomaniac.”

“So do you accept my apology?”

Corey shrugged. “I don’t see that I need to. We barely know each other. It’s not like we’re friends.”

Doug’s eyebrows rose. “You said you wanted to be friends.”

“Yeah,” Corey said, perking up. “So maybe your bad energy would change.”

“Still with that?”

“You don’t even know what you’re doing,” Corey said. “But I can see it, all these negative webs coming out of you, affecting
everything
. Even me.”

“Oh, come on. You aren’t serious about all that, are you? I mean, really. You’re just fucking with me.”

Corey climbed to his feet. “I need to pack, are we done here?”

Doug shrugged, then stood. “Going on a trip?”

Corey turned away, hands on his hips. “Going to Long Island to see my parents.”

“You have parents?” Doug asked.

Corey turned around and smirked at him. “Is that so hard to believe?”

Doug chuckled. “I figured you were grown in a lab or something. Do you see your folks often? Or is it a special occasion?”

“No,” Corey said. He studied Doug for a moment, his expression conflicted. “Be thankful you weren’t home last night. You would have heard a lot of shouting. Stewart and I are dealing with some issues, so we’re taking a few days off from each other.”

Doug went still. “Oh,” he said softly.

Corey shrugged. He looked forlorn, his usual spark faded. A sliver of guilt tried to emerge, but Doug pushed it down. He wasn’t responsible for Stewart and Corey’s problems. At least he didn’t think so. But he couldn’t help wondering what was going on with them.

“It’ll work itself out one way or another,” Corey said. “Just need some space to figure things out. Reevaluate.”

“Well, I’m...I’m sorry to hear that.”

Corey chuckled. “But you wouldn’t cry into your pillow if we broke up, would you?”

Doug didn’t respond to that. He didn’t want to lie and say he truly hoped they’d work things out. But he did feel bad for Corey. The guy seemed genuinely bummed out. “So am I forgiven, or what? You going to keep grunting every time you see me?”

“Whatever, Doug.”

“Come on, there must be something I can do to make amends.”

“Just...” Corey waved a hand at him. “Just forget about it. It’s not important. You’re not the first person to call me a whore, believe me.”

Doug nodded. “So that’s it. You can storm into my apartment and call me names, slam my doors, throw a tantrum, eat my ice cream, but you can’t get past one thing I said while under the influence of narcotics.”

He smirked at Doug. “Unless you’re willing to let me purge your bad energy. That’ll make me feel better. Then maybe we’d get some peace back around here.”

Doug laughed. “What does that entail, exactly?”

Corey froze, one eyebrow cocked. “Are you interested?”

“Call it curious.”

“It’s like a massage, for the most part,” Corey said, moving to sit on the sofa. “I start at your head, then work my way down...” He gave Doug a sour face. “Why do you already look freaked out? I’m not gonna bad-touch you. Very few people carry negative energy in their cock, Doug. And contrary to the opinions of some in this room, I’m not a prostitute. No happy endings, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Doug laughed. “No, but I mean, what is it you think you do? To...purge the energy.”

“What I
know
I do is work my way down from your head to your toes, to find wherever the blockage is hiding. Once I sense it, I bring it to the surface and release it.”

“How?”

“I can’t explain
how
. I just do it.”

“Will it hurt?”

He was joking, but Corey held a serious expression. “You may feel a bit of discomfort once I locate it. But it only lasts a few seconds, usually. After that you’ll feel fine.”

Doug took a deep breath and let it out. He didn’t buy a word of it, but just discussing it had put the light back in Corey’s eyes. This, his
work
, clearly made him happy. 

“Fine,” Doug said. “I’ll do it.”

Corey’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Sure. What the hell.”

Corey’s eyes narrowed. “You’re only agreeing to this because you feel bad for me. How patronizing.”

“Hey,” Doug said. “If you don’t want to do it, I’ll just leave. I won’t offer again. Going once...going twice...”

“Okay, okay.” Corey stood. “Come on.”

****

Doug stripped to his boxers and lay on the meditation table in Corey’s spare room, a sheet draped over his midsection. Soft, tinkling music came from somewhere unseen, and a ceiling fan churned slowly overhead. Corey stood behind him and rested hands on either side of his head. “Do you get headaches?” he asked, his fingers dragging along the underside of Doug’s ears, eliciting shivers of pleasure down through his spine.

“No,” Doug said. “Not often.”

 Corey combed his fingers upward from his back to the base of his skull. Doug sighed, closing his eyes. Fingers drifted around and massaged his jawline with small circles. “What about chest pain?”

“No.”

Corey continued up his jawline and around behind his ears, and Doug nearly groaned it felt so good. He kept at it until Doug’s breathing became slow and calm, then moved up to his face, using his thumbs to smooth the midline of his forehead out to the sides.

“Any stomach problems?”

“Heartburn sometimes,” Doug said. “Nothing major.”

“What about your bowels. Any constipation?”

Doug tilted his head back and grimaced up at Corey. “Are these questions really necessary for a massage?”

Corey pressed his head back down. “Lie still.”

Corey’s gentle massage continued, hooking his fingers under Doug’s hairline and gently pulling. His hands moved down, kneading his neck, then sliding over his shoulders, around his deltoids. Doug let out an involuntary sigh. His awkwardness reemerged. It felt wrong somehow, lying on a bed silently while Corey touched him. The hands giving Doug pleasure belonged to Stewart. The thought made him anxious. “Any bad juju yet?” he quipped, feeling the need to make conversation.

“Nothing yet,” Corey said. “And don’t be a wiseass.”

Doug shivered at Corey’s touch, which glided over his shoulders with a slight pressure that sent tendrils of bliss deep into his muscles.
Damn
, it felt good. After a while, Corey moved to the side of the table and began massaging Doug’s right arm. He worked from the shoulder down to the wrist, then kneaded his palm and fingers. He moved to the other side and did his other arm. Doug felt amazing, relaxed the way he did during meditation, but also warm and tingly. “You feel okay?” Corey asked.

Doug nodded. He didn’t dare speak, afraid his voice would come out breathy. He didn’t believe Corey had any magical gifts, but he gave damn good massage, and Doug wasn’t surprised people paid for his touch. 

“Good. Here’s where it gets a little unconventional. I’m going to touch your chest now and then gradually move down toward your abdomen. I have to move the sheet, so don’t freak out. I won’t touch your precious knob.”

 Doug snickered, but fell silent as Corey’s palms glided over his pectoral muscles. Gooseflesh rose and his nipples hardened. This went on for some time, fingers kneading, expertly working every angle of his chest. The drag of Corey’s warm hands, swirling across his peaked nipples threatened to make Doug’s dick hard. He bit the inside of his lip to distract himself.

Corey’s warm hands left Doug’s chest suddenly, pressing down on either side of his jaw. “Stop that,” he said softly.

“Stop what?”

“Clenching or biting or whatever you’re doing.”

A flush heated Doug’s cheeks. He wasn’t sure how Corey knew, but rather than address the issue, he relaxed his mouth, staying silent. Corey’s hands left his jaw. Blessedly, his nipples were bypassed this time and the touch moved on to his stomach.

Doug breathed deeply. His ribs and stomach weren’t quite as sensitive as other parts, so he was able to enjoy Corey’s touch without fear of popping a boner. Gradually, Corey’s hands moved to the center of his stomach, ignoring the ribs more and more as he rubbed in a circular rhythm into the middle. His hands glided a bit lower and Doug flinched, afraid he’d go down
too
low.

“Relax,” Corey said, fingers dragging gently across his lower belly. Suddenly the motion stopped and he pressed down slightly. He kept his hands there, still.

The lack of movement made Doug open his eyes. “What are you doing?”

Corey held a hand up. “Shhh.” He brought it back down and both hands began to move in a small circle, drifting upward inch by inch, then he stopped again above Doug’s navel. After another long pause, the movement resumed, smoothing a concentrated circle at the center of Doug’s stomach.

Doug grew slightly frustrated. This wasn’t nearly as pleasant as the touch on the other parts of his body. He wanted Corey to move on, to do his legs, or ask him to turn over so he could do his back.

“
There
you are,” Corey whispered, fingers probing Doug’s flesh.

Doug blinked. “What?”

“Easy, Doug. Relax.”

A sudden, sharp pain pierced his stomach and he jolted up, gasping. “What the fuck are you doing?”