Chance at the Impossible

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Chance at the Impossible Page 6

by J. M. Dabney


  He loved his little man's body—the delicateness of it against his harder and bulkier frame. He still remembered the smoothness of Miller's skin. It was so soft under the calloused planes of his hands. His boy was absolute perfection.

  “Is this a mid-life crisis?”

  “Why the fuck would you ask that?”

  “I've never seen you with…you've never dated men before.”

  “I haven't dated all that many women either. Does it bother you I never came out as bisexual? I never felt I needed to. Settling down didn't interest me either way.”

  “Are you—”

  “Boy, I've never known you to be shy.”

  “Would I be someone you might want to settle down with?”

  “No way would I have taken you to my bed if I didn't. This isn't about some mid-life crisis or experimenting. I want to take you on dates, prove to you that even though I find you sexy as fuck, this isn't only about sex. You're worth way more than that. And if I didn't think this would go anywhere, I would never have touched you. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Good boy, now, let's go have food. You're coming home with me tonight for a movie, and then you're sleeping next to me. Is that acceptable, boy?”

  “Uh huh.”

  He gave Miller one more kiss and resisted taking it further. He lowered Miller slowly to his feet just to savor that trim, little body sliding along his. He'd waited years, denied his feelings, well, didn't deny it, he hadn't confessed because he refused to have his boy mourn him beyond being a friend and maybe father figure. The fear of getting sick again was still there, and they'd have to discuss it at some point, but not tonight. It was time for them to learn about each other as partners or boyfriends, instead of the friendship they'd had going the last few years.

  His gaze didn't leave Miller as his boy put on his jacket, then came back to him and he shook his head as Miller slipped his phone and keys into Brent's inside pocket. Miller hated carrying shit around. He'd forgotten how many times he was in charge of his boy's phone. Unless he was on call, he forgot his cell in his truck.

  He twisted to open the door, placed his free hand on Miller's lower back and led him out of the apartment. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of the freedom of showing his boy how he felt about him.

  When they reached his truck, he helped Miller inside, then made sure he was all buckled in and safe. He jogged around to the driver's side and hopped onto the seat. The drive to the pub didn't take long, but he kept his hand rested on Miller's thigh, his fingers tucked between his legs.

  He found an empty spot in a back row. In the time it took for them to go inside, wait, then be seated, he refused to let his boy get away from him. They ordered drinks, and the server walked away.

  “First date in a while?”

  “Well, first date really.”

  “Come on, you've dated—”

  “Not really. In college, before Troy, I was so busy with classes and Brenda was a friend, someone I studied with. We mainly hung out. Brenda and me saw other people…it wasn't love. She went out with women and me men. Then after Troy came and everything changed, it was all work and Troy. When he was older and had sleepovers, I'd hit the bars. It was a fun, but not fulfilling life. With that said, I don't have complaints.”

  “You shouldn't.”

  “What about you? Porter your last date?”

  “A few blind dates. Porter was my last, I guess, relationship. It wasn't a good one, so, it shouldn't count.”

  “Did he hurt you?” He reached across the table and took Miller's hand, stroked his thumb over his boy's knuckles.

  “Don't take this the wrong way…I thought I may have found the one to help me get over you, ya know?”

  “Did you want to get over me?”

  “No, you were always the constant. You never judged me and always wanted me happy. Yet, when you were diagnosed, it killed me to know I was losing you and I never took the chance. A few years would've been so much better than none. I opened my mouth to tell you so many times and it—nothing.”

  He was thankful when the server came back, and because they weren’t both particular about food, it was easy enough to order. He didn't want the mood taken down.

  “Maybe it wasn't the time, baby. I don't want you sad.”

  “I know, but it's a real concern.”

  “I've never been healthier.”

  Miller chuckled. “Yeah, I know. I always get the first update.”

  “You do, never tell Troy that.”

  “I don't have a death wish, Daddy. I pretend it's all news to me when he calls to tell me what you said. Can I ask you something about the batting cages?”

  “You want to know why I was so mad that night.” It wasn't a question, but Miller nodded at him. “There's no excuse for how I treated you. I was sitting at that bar on the way to drowning my feelings in beer, and that bastard was sitting beside me. Never once have you introduced me to someone you're dating, hell, I don't think you mentioned dating, Troy was always the one to say you were out.” He paused and took a draw on his pint. “Then he was talking about you, bragging and all I wanted to do was take his head off. I was so pissed at myself for losing control, and I took it out on you.”

  “After the kiss at the party, I couldn't imagine letting anyone else touch me.”

  “I wanted to repeat that kiss when we'd gotten home, but I was scared as fuck that I'd ruined our friendship.”

  “Not a chance.”

  The conversation continued through food and more drinks, and he cut himself off after his second pint. He had to make sure his boy made it home safe. When they got home, he'd gotten the goriest movie for Miller. A night of cuddling on the couch and then his boy would sleep in his bed, right where Miller belonged. He smiled at the thought and caught Miller's shy smile as their gazes met. He finally had his little man right where he wanted him, and he was going to make sure he kept him.

  9

  Gertrude rambled on, and he was only catching every other word. He felt like he was that teenage boy with a crush on the hot quarterback. His phone was unlocked on his desk, and the wallpaper was a selfie he'd taken when he'd woken up the morning after their first date. Brent was spooned around him, the older man's face buried against his throat and strong arms like a steel band around his chest. As soon as he'd clicked the picture, he'd noticed Brent's eyes were open, and he was grinning.

  They'd had a heavy make-out session, and his Daddy got him off, then kissed him hard before going to make breakfast. Sunday Brent had an emergency call in, and they hadn't seen each other since. That didn't mean they didn't talk or text several times a day. He was quite fond of bedtime calls. His man was an expert at phone sex.

  His Daddy was one sexy bastard. When talking to Troy, he hadn’t joked about Brent liking when he called the older man Daddy. He was a little nervous about what his best friend would say about the change in Brent and his relationship. Troy had been his first and last best friend until he’d gotten older and became friends with Brent. He didn’t want to lose Troy.

  “Miller, are you even listening to me?”

  “Sorry.”

  “What are you looking at?”

  He almost hid his phone so she couldn’t see, but she was spry and looked at his screen.

  “Wow, no wonder you’re distracted. I didn’t know you had finally gotten the balls to claim your man.”

  He rested his chin on his upraised hand and smirked at her. “We’re dating.”

  “Miller, Miller, Miller, did you make it out on a date?”

  “Barely.”

  Gertrude wasn’t just his boss but his friend. She’d listened to him talk about Brent a lot over the seven years he’d worked for her. He enjoyed his job as her personal assistant. He was a Jack of all Trades. Planned parties, vetted her appointments, and whatever else she needed him to do. He couldn’t even complain about the salary. When she took her trips, he housesat for her. Some would say he should find a real jo
b, but he was good at what he did.

  “That’s the Miller I know and love. How long have you been keeping this a secret?”

  “Not long, barely a week. It’s still new, and I’m, well, I’m nervous.”

  She grabbed one of the uncomfortable chairs that people only bought for decoration and sat it beside him. She folded her elegant form onto it. Gertrude had the grace of a dancer and her bearing announced to everyone who looked at her that she was a lady. Although, he knew she could destroy someone with a mere look and he wouldn’t want to be on her bad side.

  “Talk it out, honey.”

  “He’s my best friend’s dad. And I don’t want to lose Troy over this or make things strained between Brent and his son. I don’t want to lose either of them and not being able to see Bella would kill me inside. Do you know she calls me Papa because she’s always thought Brent and I were together?”

  “I saw that kiss y’all shared at the party and the chemistry between you two couldn’t be mistaken by anyone in sight of y’all. The two of you just gravitate toward each other. I saw your devastation when Brent became ill. You nearly ran yourself into the ground.”

  “Did I ever tell you how much I appreciate all the personal time you let me take? I wasn’t really doing a great job that year.”

  He’d barely kept it together existing on little to no sleep day in and day out. The only times he slept well were when he’d curl up against Brent’s side and listen to his heart. Counting beats and the breaths that ruffled his hair. He’d nearly quit to take care of Brent twenty-four, seven. One time on an exceptionally stressful day, he had given Gertrude his two-week notice, but she’d told him not to be stupid and ordered him to take a few days off.

  “Honey, your man was sick. Hell, even if it was just a friend, I would’ve given you all the time in the world. But it was Brent, and I knew how much you cared...how much you loved him.”

  “All those months I prepared for the moment I’d have to say goodbye, just grateful when he was alive when I woke up. All I thought about was maybe he’d be gone by the time I got off work. You had every right to fire me.”

  “Never happen. You’re amazing at your job, and I don’t have to supervise you every minute of the day. Have you talked to Brent about any of your concerns?”

  “Not really, but I’m sure he has them too. It wasn’t like I didn’t hint all over the place. Troy always knew I had a thing for Brent, but…”

  “Yes, but reality is different. Are you scared of him being diagnosed again?”

  “I’ve thought about it. The more time that passes I’m sure the tension will ease somewhat, but the only thing I can do is be there a second time. I’d rather have limited time with him than not have spent my life with him at all.”

  “I know. Have you thought about surprising your man at work?”

  “Thought about it, but they’re short-staffed, and Brent is really hands-on with the business. He won’t tell his guys to do something he wouldn’t.”

  He knew Brent was normally on calls most of the morning and spent afternoons in the office, but he didn’t know what people would say about him just showing up. Win would leak it back to Troy. He hadn’t made it a habit of visiting Brent at work.

  “You do have a good man, and”—she tapped his screen—“definitely sexy. Now if I could find a man half that good-looking, I might give up a bit of freedom.”

  She’d never been married but had been on just about every eligible bachelors’ arm over the years. At almost sixty, she could pass for her forties. She ate right. Worked out daily. She’d always been obsessive about her appearance, but not in that narcissistic way some people carried themselves. Both her parents died young, and she didn’t want to repeat that.

  “Like you’ll give up the freedom to play with all those pretty boys you like.”

  “Okay, there is that. Ready to get back to work? Focus a few more hours, and I’ll set you free. We have to get this fundraiser all planned out for the LGBT center.”

  “Yes, ma’am. My attention is all yours.”

  He made it through the next three hours with only a few glances at his phone even when he received text notifications. Brent wouldn’t get cranky over waiting. The older man knew he was working. The only other person who would text him would be Troy. They hadn’t spoken since the night his friend showed up at his apartment. He hated that there seemed to be a distance between them lately. Most of it was his fault.

  Jealousy wasn’t an emotion he was used to, and he hadn’t handled it well. He hadn’t lied to Troy when he said that he was envious of the relationship he had with Win. The family they’d created. Since they’d met, him and Troy never went a day without talking or seeing each other. Lately, sometimes a week went by, and he didn’t like it. He needed to fix it and soon.

  He tilted his head to the side to allow Gertrude to kiss his cheek and he packed up his things. As soon he was outside and walking to his car, he called Brent.

  “Hey, baby.”

  “Hi. I was working and didn’t get your messages.”

  “I knew you were working. Did you read them?”

  Brent’s voice went all low and husky, the one the man used when he was talking dirty to him while they got ready for bed.

  “Were they dirty?”

  “Unfortunately, no. I didn’t want to deal with a hard cock while trying to talk with customers.”

  He laughed as he tossed his backpack on the hood and turned around to lean back on the driver’s door. The more they talked like that, the quicker he was becoming addicted to his Daddy. He knew Brent dealt with customers and he wouldn’t blame some of them for having a look at his man. Brent was sexy in his toolbelt low on his hips and jeans that molded to his muscular thighs and ass. Brent still ran and worked out every day in his basement gym.

  “Maybe get you some good tips. It’s rather impressive.”

  “That’s only for you, boy.”

  “I like the sound of that, Daddy.”

  “Behave, I’m still working.”

  “If I must, if you didn’t send me texts about all the dirty things you want to do to your boy what was on your mind?”

  “I invited Troy and Win to the house tonight for dinner.”

  “Oh.” It was like Brent had read his thoughts, but did he want to deal with it tonight? He didn’t want his life to go ass up and not in that fun getting pounded way.

  “Baby, don’t sound like that. I don’t want to sneak around with you. It isn’t fair to you or me. We’re not fucking around. We’re also adults. I’d like for my son to know I’m happy.”

  He liked knowing he made Brent happy and he didn’t want to hide Miller. He was flighty and snarky, didn’t always make the best decisions in life, but Brent wanted him, annoying quirks and all.

  “I’m just worried about losing him.”

  “I promise you it will be fine. Just remember we get to see our beautiful granddaughter in a few hours.”

  “It seems like forever and not a few days since we’ve seen her.”

  “I knew that would get you. You going to be at home when I get there?”

  And he knew exactly where his man meant—Brent’s place had always been home. The first night he’d walked through the door it was a sense of calm and belonging, never once had he felt out of place.

  “Yeah, I’ll start prep so my Daddy can make me dinner.”

  “See you then, baby.”

  He said goodbye and disconnected the call. He’d head home, shower and change, prepare for tonight and pack an overnight bag so he could leave for work from Brent’s house. He had no illusions his man would let him go back to his apartment once he was there. He wasn’t going to complain because he’d already gotten used to sleeping in his Daddy’s bed.

  10

  He might have played a good game when he’d called Miller earlier, but he was terrified of how his son would take the news. Miller had told him Troy had known Miller had a crush on him. He couldn’t move forward without his so
n knowing and if it was up to him, Miller would move in soon. How could three nights completely ruin him for sleeping alone? He’d lost count of the times he’d reached out for his boy when he’d woken up in the middle of the night.

  Falling in love with Miller had been easy. It seemed the natural progression of their friendship. Miller never hesitated to come to him for comfort or just a cuddle and horror-fest. He’d never denied his boy anything. He thought he’d fallen long before he’d gotten sick, but that year of hell just made him admit it to himself.

  Other than his son and granddaughter, Miller was everything to him. He wouldn’t take his boy without acknowledging him and announcing they were together. That wouldn’t be fair to his boy. He snorted as he put the finishing touches on dinner and listened to Miller and Troy arguing behind him. Win was gruffly chuckling, used to the chaos that was Troy and Miller’s friendship.

  “Do I need to start answering the phone Miller’s Shoulder to Weep Upon again?” Miller asked.

  “Ha, ha. Why are we friends again?”

  “Because no one else wants to put up with you and, well, I see it as my civic duty. I might need good Karma…my halo disintegrated into dust.”

  “You had a halo?”

  “It went with my sexy wings I wear at Pride.”

  Brent snorted remembering the last Pride they went to and then a picture of Miller in his wings and halo with nothing else almost caused his mind to wander.

  “You’re a one-man Pride Parade twenty-four, seven,” Troy said.

  “Thank you. I do what I can.”

  He darted a look over his shoulder to catch his pretty, blond boy batting his lashes. He nearly groaned at that innocent look, and again the wings popped into his head. To keep his mind out of the gutter until him and Miller were alone, he finished filling the serving dishes. Slim arms came around him from behind, and he barely controlled the rumble in his chest as teasing fingers danced over his semi-hard dick.

  “Behave, or you’ll only get punished and not played with tonight.”

 

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