by Avery Ford
“I’m working this afternoon, and before that I have a few companies I need to contact about potential positions. I get off at six. We should watch a movie tonight together. Do you have any kind in particular you like?” Henry’s voice was open, almost hopeful.
Caleb turned off the burner heating their hash and stepped over to the sink, dodging Henry’s invitation. If Henry was trying to take pity on him, Caleb didn’t want it.
“I’ll pass, thanks.”
“Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be in the living room at about seven or so. You’re free to join me.”
Henry was cute even when he made small talk. Caleb washed his hands well, then moved back to the stove and portioned the food out onto plates. The kettle began to whistle, and as it did, Henry prepared the French press with fresh coffee grounds. Once it was ready, he poured the water over it and let it brew.
“Going to take a shower after this,” Henry said brightly. “That won’t be a problem, right? It looks like you’re already well into your day.”
Caleb had wanted a shower of his own, but he could wait. He nodded. “That’s fine.”
“Great.”
“Just hang your towel up when you’re done.”
Henry looked over his shoulder at Caleb, startled. Caleb could only look at him momentarily before he had to look away. His heart raced, and his pulse sped up. Taking in an attractive man had been a mistake. It was too painful.
“What?” Henry asked.
“Hang your towel over the curtain rod instead of leaving it balled in the sink. It’ll only dry thoroughly if you hang it.”
“Oh.” Caleb felt Henry’s eyes looking him over from behind, and his pulse refused to slow. “Well, okay. Sorry. I wasn’t even thinking about it, if I’m being honest. I’m so scatterbrained most days. If there’s anything else, let me know.”
The socks in the living room and the dishes Henry always left undone still had to be addressed, but Caleb couldn’t bring himself to mention them. Right now he was focused on the thought of Henry in the shower, and how he liked to sing while he washed. Most days, Henry showered late at night after Caleb went to bed, and every time he sang, Caleb jolted awake. Five years spent working twenty-four hour shifts meant that he slept lightly, even when he was exhausted. By all rights, Caleb should have been irritated.
Instead, he thought that it was kind of cute. Henry had a good voice, and Caleb enjoyed listening to it, even if it meant he woke up cranky the next day.
“You’re fine.”
“Don’t feel bad if you have to set me straight.” Henry strained the grounds down to the bottom of the French press and poured them two mugs of coffee. He left space for creamer in one. “I’ve never lived with a roommate before. I was living at home before this, and then I lived in a small apartment my parents paid for while I was in college. I mean, I did live with my boyfriend for a few years, but um…”
Caleb watched as Henry set the French press down, then stood frozen as he recalled the memory. As sad as he looked, Caleb couldn’t help but feel thrilled. Henry had lived with a boyfriend? “Yeah, I mean, I wouldn’t really call that living with a roommate too much. It wasn’t… normal.”
There was more to Henry’s story, but Caleb didn’t push to learn more. If Henry wanted to talk to him, he’d come forward eventually. Until then, it was none of Caleb’s business, no matter how badly he wanted to know what the pain in Henry’s eyes meant.
Henry added creamer to one of the coffees, stirred it, and pressed it into Caleb’s hand. “So don’t hold back to spare my feelings, okay? I appreciate what you’re doing for me, and I want us to get along the best we can. I know I’ve got some growing up to do, so help me out and I’ll get to it.”
What would it be like to touch Henry’s soft lips? Caleb longed to see his soft brown eyes overcome by desire. He ducked his head. “Okay.”
Caleb passed Henry a plate, then took one for himself. While Henry headed to the dining room to sit, Caleb made his way to the stairs.
“Are you not going to eat downstairs?” Henry called after him as he left.
“Going to eat in my room,” Caleb called back. “Don’t worry about washing your dish. I’ll take care of everything after your shower.”
Caleb climbed the stairs and shut himself in his room. Maybe he couldn’t have Henry, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t dream. From his bedroom, he’d have front row seats to Henry’s next concert. With his eyes closed and his mind free to wander, it was easy to pretend that they were more than just roommates.
Henry
Henry fell back onto the bed and groaned, covering his eyes with one hand. The old bed that had come with the room squeaked beneath his weight. The room was a little dusty and looked like it had been neglected for a while. Yellowed sheer curtains hung over its windows, and there were a few old paintings hung on the wall, but otherwise there were few things that made it feel like home.
Henry missed the posters on his wall back home, and the familiar smell of his room. The water pressure in the Anders’ household left a lot to be desired, and the kitchen was small when two people tried to use it at once. Moving out had been fantastically liberating, but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d been too hasty.
Henry had thought that Caleb would open up after a few days, but so far, he hadn’t. Caleb was still the closed off, moody guy that Henry had been introduced to at Crossroads. Would it always be strained and distant between them? Henry wanted to know.
It didn’t help that his mother had been calling almost every day, following up with him and subtly asking him to come back home. On one hand, she desperately wanted him to be independent. On the other, Henry knew that she was too shallow to risk ruining her reputation because her son had run off with a disfigured man. The town was gossiping about his failed relationship with Pritchard just as much as it was gossiping about what had happened to Caleb. Henry had no idea if Caleb was gay or not, but the town knew that Henry was. It was easy to get the wrong idea when gossip spread so easily.
Maybe it’s better to go home?
With a sigh, Henry rolled over. The towel on his hips shifted and threatened to fall, but his door was shut, so he didn’t care if it did. If he went home, he’d be giving up his independence and validating his parents’ horrible prejudices. No matter how he felt about the house, he couldn’t give up just yet. Change always took a little while to get accustomed to. If he stuck to it and endured, Henry was sure it would get better.
Life always got better. Even the worst situations resolved themselves with enough effort and time.
Henry sat up and stripped the towel from around his waist. He tossed it to the bed and hummed as he padded across the floor to his duffle bag. He’d need to get a dresser at some point. He made a mental note to scan the local online postings later to see if anyone was looking to unload one. Until then, he’d be living out of his bag.
Henry chose a shirt and a pair of pants and tossed them onto the bed. He rooted around for some boxer briefs and a pair of socks, then returned to the bedside and started to dress. Putting in effort meant that he was going to have to go with his gut. Learning about Caleb was necessary. If Henry was going to keep living with him, he needed to know why Caleb was acting the way he was. If he was naturally this uptight, maybe they wouldn’t be as good a fit as Henry had hoped.
Henry put on his underwear, then his socks. His pants came next, and he zipped them up and tightened his belt as he considered his options. Getting Caleb to open up was impossible. Henry couldn’t even get him to sit down long enough to watch a movie. If he wanted to know more, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.
The only thing Henry could think to do was consult the man who’d introduced them.
Kota worked full-time at the police department in town, and Henry wasn’t sure if he’d be in the office or on patrol. But it wouldn’t hurt to walk to the police department to check. Besides, the exercise would help him burn off some of his energy before wo
rk.
Henry shrugged into his shirt and smoothed it down his chest. His hair was drying, but it wouldn’t be completely dry before he headed outside. Before he left, he snagged a winter hat from his belongings and fitted it over his head. It wasn’t perfect, but it would be better than nothing.
Caleb was still in his room as Henry made his way downstairs, so he didn’t bother to let him know that he was leaving. At the door, Henry pulled on his boots and slipped into his coat. Zipped up and snug, he stepped out into the cold and headed toward the main strip. The police department was eight blocks away.
Blue Mountain Police Department occupied a corner lot on the intersection of Lincoln and Sycamore. The cold, gray concrete it was made from was imposing and sterile, and Henry had always considered it a bit of an eyesore. For a town located amongst natural beauty, it stuck out.
He headed through the modern glass doors and to the woman sitting at dispatch. Vaguely, Henry recognized her as one of Mrs. Turner’s daughters. Mrs. Turner knew everyone in town, and she always seemed to know what was happening. Having a daughter who worked dispatch explained some of her omniscience.
“Welcome to Blue Mountain Police Department,” the woman at the desk said. A computer was set up in front of her, and she had been typing until Henry came in. “Can I help you?”
“Um, maybe.” Henry glanced around the reception area, taking it all in. It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d last been here, but the details of the room were harsher in his memory. “I’m looking for Officer Dakota Owens. Does he happen to be in?”
“He is, but Officer Owens doesn’t take calls in his office. If you’d like, you can file a report with me and I’ll make sure that he sees it.”
“Oh, no, um, I’m not here to report a crime.” Henry laughed. “I’d just like to see him for a minute. I’m sure if you called him and told him that Henry Weston was here to see him, he’d let me come back.”
The woman scrunched up her nose in disdain, but she picked up the phone on her desk and made the call, anyway. Cradling the receiver against her ear with her shoulder, she typed furiously on her keyboard as she waited for an answer.
Kota would see him. Their friendship was recent, but Henry knew that Kota was a good guy. Both sensitive and hilarious, he’d been the pillar of strength Henry needed when his world felt like it was falling to pieces.
“Hi Kota,” the dispatcher said, her eyes brightening as the call connected. “Sorry to bother you, I know you’re trying to get some paperwork done. There’s a young male in reception who’s asking to see you, says his name is Henry Weston?” Her gaze flitted over to Henry. “You want me to send him back there? Well, if you insist…”
Henry grinned, feeling victorious. The woman rose from her seat and gestured for him to follow. Then, working the kinks out of her back, she led Henry through a secured door and into a short hallway. One of the doors was left ajar, and she gestured toward it. “Officer Owens is through there. Please be brief, and leave immediately once you’re finished with your visit. We’re not technically allowed to let members of the public beyond this point.”
“Thank you,” Henry said earnestly. “I really do appreciate it.”
He pushed open the door to Kota’s office and found Kota sitting at his desk. A stack of paperwork was piled in front of him, and he teased a pen between his thumb, index, and middle fingers.
“Hi Henry,” Kota said as Henry entered. Kota ran his unoccupied hand through his hair and sat up a little straighter in his chair. “Is there something happening? You’re not feeling unsafe again, are you?”
“No.” Henry shook his head. “Nothing like that. I’m sorry to interrupt you while you’re on the job, but I wanted to ask you some questions, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” Kota was always easy-going and good-natured, and Henry instantly felt at ease. “Why don’t you pull up a chair from that wall there and take a seat? I’ll take any chance I can get if it means avoiding paperwork even for a little longer.”
They shared a laugh and Henry pulled up one of the three chairs lined against the wall of Kota’s office and sat on the other side of Kota’s desk so they were face to face.
“So,” Kota said, “what’s happening?”
“I wanted to talk to you a little bit about Caleb.” Henry drummed his fingers on his thighs, anxious. Talking to Caleb’s best friend would reveal more about his character and hopefully allow Henry to get to the bottom of his emotional distance. The man Henry glimpsed within him from time to time had to be real. “I was hoping that he’d start to open up to me more once I moved in, but he’s been… distant. I try to talk to him and include him in what I’m doing, but he pretends he’s never interested.”
Kota laughed. “Yup. Sounds about right. You just need to give him some time.”
“You mean that’s normal for him?” Henry asked. “Does he always treat people like he’d rather be anywhere else but where they are? I keep seeing little glimmers of someone else inside of him, someone compassionate and fun and, well, open.”
“He’s been through a lot,” Kota said simply. “He’s not himself right now. It’s going to take him some time to adjust to his new life back in Blue Mountain.”
“Is this because of his injury?” Henry asked. “The um, the scars all along his right side? What happened to him?”
Kota’s expression hardened and he sat back in his chair. The look on his face told Henry that he’d asked the wrong question, and Henry realized a few seconds too late how insensitive he’d just been. Gossiping behind Caleb’s back wasn’t going to help anything. Asking Kota about Caleb’s well-being wasn’t bad, but asking for details about his injury made him just as lowly as any of the townsfolk.
He tried to backpedal. “Oh god, Kota, I’m—”
“It’s not my place to say, Henry, but I’ll tell you that Caleb was a firefighter. He was in an accident on the job, and that he needs time to recover.” Kota didn’t waste Henry another glance, and Henry just knew he was disappointed. “Anything more, Caleb will tell you himself - if and when he chooses.”
Silently, Henry rose from his chair. He knew when he was no longer welcome.
“And Henry?” There was no more love for him in Kota’s voice. “If I find out you’ve done anything to hurt or slander Caleb, I will see to it myself that you are removed from the premises, if not as an officer, then as his best friend.”
“Chill, Kota.” Henry drew his brows together. “I didn’t come here to cause any trouble.”
Kota exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Henry. I don’t mean to sound like such an ass. I guess I can’t help being overprotective of him.”
Henry smiled, the tension between them evaporating. “I understand.” He walked to the door. “I’ll see you around.”
Caleb
Henry sat on the foot of his bed, legs pretzeled beneath him and palms flush with the mattress. He leaned forward just a little, his soft brown eyes traveling the length of Caleb’s chest.
“Hey,” Henry said quietly, his words twisted with something delightfully wicked. Caleb’s cock stirred at the sound of it. He recognized the intonation — Henry was trying to seduce him. “So I was thinking maybe that, you know, what I’m paying you isn’t enough.”
“Why’s that?” Caleb asked. He knew that he was hard, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. A small part of him knew that he was naked and lying across the bed for Henry to see, anyway. There was no point in covering himself up now.
“Because, I mean, this place is just so big, and everything you do for me is wonderful. I’ve been noticing, you know, how you’ve been washing my dishes and cleaning up after my messes. I love that you’re taking care of me like that.”
If Caleb’s cock wasn’t hard before, it was hard now. He propped himself up on his elbows to get a better view of Caleb, and as he did, Caleb noticed that the right side of his body wasn’t red and raw with scars. He lifted his right hand and looked at it. T
he damage was gone, and full functionality had returned. Hell, he was even seeing things right. Both of his eyes were working perfectly.
“So what? You want to pay more rent?”
“Yeah.” Henry’s fingers squeezed at the blanket. “Only, um, I was thinking maybe we could work out other terms, until I’m working again, you know?”
Caleb knew exactly where this was going. His heart thudded against his ribcage as if it was trying to escape. “Like what?” he asked, playing coy.
“I don’t know.” Henry’s fingers released the bedding, and he trailed a hand across the bed and brushed against Henry’s leg. “I was thinking maybe I could give you something you really want. You’re lonely, right? I could make you not lonely. I think I’d be really good at that.”
Caleb shuddered. His jaw fell slack as the sensation passed through him like ripples across a pond. With a devilish grin, Henry crawled forward and nuzzled against Caleb’s thigh. Caleb’s breath hitched in his throat, and he watched in awe as Henry pressed his lips to his skin he’d once caressed.
“Yeah.” Caleb wasn’t sure if he said the word, or if it was a desperate thought. “Oh yeah, I want that. Want it so bad.”
Henry looked up at him, one brow hitched, before he moved inward and nuzzled at Caleb’s cock. Caleb choked out a breath and tried to control himself, but it was difficult when Henry’s touch felt so good.
When the wet length of Henry’s tongue traced its way up Caleb’s shaft, Caleb couldn’t help himself anymore. He moaned and lifted his hips, eager for more contact between them. He wanted to feel Henry’s mouth and know how plush his lips were. Henry was gorgeous, so crushingly gorgeous, and Caleb couldn’t believe that Henry wanted him.
It had to be because his scars had healed and he was whole again. The hair on his head wasn’t singed and patchy from the fire, and his lungs and throat no longer felt like they were lined with gravel. Henry wanted him because he was able. It felt so good.
“So demanding,” Henry whispered against his length. He lapped again, slowly, letting Caleb enjoy every second. “You want me to suck it, Caleb? I want to so bad. Can I?”
