Princes of the Universe

by Serene Franklin

  Mac scooted closer and stroked the back of my hair before letting his arm drop around my shoulder. We had always been pretty touchy-feely, but this was new, intimate territory for us. He was comforting me, and I needed it.

  “I know you do. Admitting it is the first step.”

  I snorted and dropped my head, worried that I might cry if I kept looking at him.

  “I mean it, you dick. I’m proud of you, even if you do drive me crazy. You’ll figure out the rest.”

  The rest? I just sighed and leaned into his touch, wondering what Eli was up to.

  In bed that night, I couldn’t relax. I missed Eli too damn much, and Mac’s cryptic words left me feeling unsettled. I reached for my phone to check the time and saw that it was just after midnight—too late to call Eli. What would I have said anyway? Nothing that couldn’t wait until a reasonable hour, so I wouldn’t look like a psycho stalker.

  I gave it half an hour before I caved and texted him. YouTube and porn failed to distract me, and I texted him like the pathetic mess of a man I was, half worked up thanks to the latter. I wasn’t expecting a reply and jumped when one came through right away.

  E: Yes, I’m awake

  B: What’re you up to?

  Ugh. I might as well have asked him what he was wearing and been done with it.

  E: I just got out of the shower and am in bed now

  E: What about you? Prince and I missed seeing you tonight

  He missed me too? I had no hope of falling asleep after reading that. Forget about the fact that he was fresh from the shower and smelling like the ocean and maybe naked.

  Jesus Christ.

  B: I’m in bed too. Utterly drained. I missed you guys tonight too.

  B: If you’re free tomorrow, wanna grab some lunch? There’s a new Vietnamese place that opened up a couple blocks from my place

  E: No

  No? Aww, shit. My stomach churned, and my panic went from zero to one hundred in half a second. Was it rational? Absolutely not. Did it matter at the time? Nope. My fingers were typing out a frantic reply asking what I did wrong and apologizing when a new message came through.

  E: Ugh. Sorry. Prince bumped me and the message sent before I finished typing

  E: No to trying the new place tomorrow. I’d much rather have your cooking, if you don’t mind

  Relief washed over me, though it didn’t quite quell the burn in my cheeks from having overreacted so quickly. I wasn’t the kind of person who jumped to sweeping conclusions like that, but Eli had me all fucked up in every way.

  B: OK. What do you want me to make?

  E: Will you laugh at me if I say spaghetti?

  B: I won’t lie. I am smiling, but I’d never laugh at you

  B: Oh! There was something else. Mac wanted to go out and celebrate the bakery’s three month anni

  B: IDK if that’s a real thing or not, but it’s an excuse to celebrate so I won’t take that away from him. Wanna come?

  E: Would you be mad if I take a pass this time?

  B: Of course not

  E: I do want to celebrate with you, though. I just don’t think I’m up for another two-day hangover

  B: Hahaha, that’s understandable

  E: I’ll make it up to you. You can pick whatever you want and I’ll do it. I promise

  Whatever I wanted? Nope—not going to let my mind run away with that one.

  B: Deal. You’ll regret those words

  Fifteen

  Eli

  When I promised Bryan I’d do anything, I didn’t really know what to expect. I meant it, but it just kind of came out in the spur of the moment. I couldn’t see his face, and I hadn’t wanted him to be sad or upset with me.

  What I didn’t expect was to find myself sitting in the middle of a packed karaoke bar on a Saturday night. A couple had just finished a duet of “Ring of Fire” and were met with applause before the chatter of all of the tables filled the room with what was almost a buzz. I sat next to Bryan at a small round table for two—it was the only way to hear him and it helped aid me in not freaking the fuck out.

  We shared pitchers of beer and various finger-food appetizers while enjoying the ever-amusing amateur singers. Some people were skilled enough to be professionals while some were rather terrible but had a good time. I had a lot of respect for anyone brave enough to walk up there in front of a bar full of strangers, let alone do that and sing.

  Bryan offered me the last mozzarella stick, which I broke in half for us to share. I popped it in my mouth and used a napkin to wipe my fingers clean of crumbs and grease. Bryan had done the same and finished his glass of beer. He raised his brows, and gave me a roguish grin.

  “Wanna try it with me?” he asked.

  “Uh… try what?”

  He nodded his head toward the small stage, smile growing wider when my eyes went wide. “Fuck no. Are you crazy? I could never—”

  Bryan’s laughter cut off my tirade. He wasn’t just laughing, no; it was that side-clenching laughing that couldn’t be contained. I crossed my arms and waited him out, hoping I wore my best unimpressed pout.

  “I’m glad you’re so amused. I thought you said you’d never laugh at me?”

  He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself and raised a brow at me critically. “Oh, come on. This doesn’t count. You just caught me off guard with how adamantly you were against it. I figured you’d say no, but not quite with such enthusiasm.”

  “I can’t think of anything worse at the moment,” I mumbled.

  “Would you be terribly opposed to me doing a song?”

  Huh? “You sing?” I must have sounded far more skeptical than I thought because he snorted and laughed again.

  Bryan shrugged noncommittally. “Would you like to find out?”

  I nodded, and he went up to choose a song. He smiled from ear to ear when he found his pick and stepped up on the small stage. The few seconds of silence before the song played were long enough for me to realize that I didn’t need to be up there to feel like the room was going to collapse in on me. Bryan looked unaffected, but my secondhand anxiety ran wild until he sang the first note of a song that started without any backing music. Oh, it was a song I knew—and everyone else in the place based on the happy cheers.

  The opening notes of Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls” had most of the bar singing along as Bryan strutted around the stage like he’d been there his whole life. Seeing him thrive and be cheered on quelled my anxiety, and I watched in wonder as he gave a part of himself up for the room that I hadn’t seen before. He oozed charisma and sex appeal—he always did, but this was another level.

  When he locked eyes with me, I felt a wave of something warm sweep through my body again. Adoration, perhaps? I certainly did adore him. He made me feel like I was the only person in the room, like I had all of his focus and he was singing just to please me. The thought made me indescribably happy.

  The song came to an end, and everyone cheered and clapped for him. A rowdy table of women near the stage shouted for more and a few others followed suit. Bryan looked to me with a lip-biting half smile, almost like he was seeking my permission. No—that’s exactly what he was doing.

  I nodded at him, and he picked another crowd-pleasing favorite: “Another One Bites the Dust.” He sang five songs in total—all Queen—and continued to look my way, making me feel like no one else existed.

  We took Prince out for a run when we got back to my place. And by run I meant drunken sprint. Bryan took her off-leash and let her chase him around on the empty grass in front of my apartment building. He was so uncoordinated and clumsy; watching her pull on his pant legs and trip him up had me in tears. He protested helplessly as she assaulted his face with sloppy kisses, tail wagging nonstop. Seeing Bryan being so silly with Prince always brought me joy. He fit so perfectly into every part of my life—not that there were many facets, but that wasn’t the point.

  I’d thought I was content before, but Bryan was so very clearly the missing compone
nt in my existence. I couldn’t picture being without him, whether he was being silly with my dog or comforting me when I was on the brink of losing my shit. Fuck, just sitting beside him felt good. I felt his absence when he was gone. Painting worked as a nice distraction, though it didn’t remotely replace him. When he texted me late last Friday night I couldn’t stop smiling. I knew it was silly, but just knowing he was thinking about me as well had settled me for the night.

  “Eli, help! She’s relentless,” he cried, half laughing.

  I walked over to the mess of them on the ground and called Prince over. She came immediately and sat at my feet, allowing Bryan to stand and wipe his face on his sweater. We looked at each other for a few moments and burst out laughing. I nearly tripped myself and fell over, but Bryan managed to close the distance between us and steady me. The cool air disappeared when he touched me, replaced by his immeasurable heat.

  We went upstairs and collapsed on the couch after I refreshed Prince’s water and Bryan washed his face.

  “Puppy kisses are great, but they are fuckin’ messy,” he said.

  “You might be her new favorite. She’s crazy for you.”

  Bryan sank into the couch with his arms resting along the back. “Nah. You’re still her favorite. She listens to you. I think she thinks I’m one of her toys, to be honest. That’s okay, though.” He let his head drop back onto the cushion. “I don’t mind.”

  The couch felt so good after the excitement from downstairs, but I wanted more; I wanted to be closer. I leaned on Bryan like I normally would, though his arm was up, so I ended up on his chest. I wondered if he’d say something, comment on how strange he thought it was. He didn’t. I settled against his chest, breathing in his sweet vanilla and citrus scent, while a flash of familiarity crept up on me. We hadn’t done this before, but I felt almost nostalgic, as if we had.

  “I can’t believe you like Queen.”

  “Correction: I love Queen. They’re my favorite band.” I couldn’t see it, but I heard the smile in his voice.

  “I didn’t know you could sing either.” Bryan’s singing voice was higher than his speaking one. He was well suited to Queen’s music, and I honestly could have listened to him sing all night.

  “I love to sing. I forgot how much so. I used to sing Mac’s little sister to sleep when we’d visit his family. And… no. Never mind.”

  I craned my neck up and got an eyeful of his scruffy chin. “What? You can’t just stop like that.”

  “Fair enough.” Bryan sighed and giggled to himself. “I used to sing to my horse. And the calves. I swear, it calmed them before they went to sleep.”

  The thought of him singing to his animals brought a smile to my face. He truly was the best. “My mom used to do that for me. God, I’d forgotten all about that. She sang ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ and this one Al Green song a lot. Something about a broken heart. I don’t remember, it’s been so long.”

  Bryan was quiet a moment then began humming a song I instantly recognized as the one I’d forgotten the name to. “That one?” he asked. I nodded against his chest. “It’s a great one. ‘How Can You Mend a Broken Heart.’”

  Fragments of memories of my mom played before my eyes. Her stroking my hair behind my ear when I was sad, her holding me while I cried after being made fun of at school, her singing me to sleep.

  “I can sing for you sometime… if you want,” Bryan offered. “I really don’t mind.”

  I snorted and smirked. “Where have you been my entire life?”

  “I waited for you, you know,” he said, after a few beats of silence.

  “Hmm? What?”

  “After the shoot. We’d agreed to go out after, so I could meet your dog. You were so cute, and I was so eager to see you again outside of work. So I waited for you. In the parking lot with my keys in my hand. When some of the other performers came out, I asked if they’d seen you and a girl said she saw you heading toward the back exit in a hurry.”

  “I’m really sorry about that, Bryan. I—”

  “S’okay. Really. I’m just glad you ended up being okay. I worried about what might have happened to you; if maybe you got a call about your dog and you had to jet. Occasionally I wondered about you. Over the years, I mean. I only had your first name, so I couldn’t find you. So I just wondered. I imagined what you might be doing and hoped that you and your dog were happy. Isn’t that strange?” Bryan laughed to himself, but there was no humor in it. “Then I saw you again after all these years, and it felt like it was a sign—sort of a second chance for me that I missed out on back then. Shit, I should stop rambling. In fact, I’m going to go home.” He stood, careful not to jar me too much, then headed straight for the door.

  “Why are you leaving?” I got up and went after him. He already had his boots on when I reached him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just—I need to go home right now. It’s late, and I’m drunk and saying stupid shit. It’s better if I leave now. I’ll text you tomorrow.” He opened the door and left without a backward glance.

  I stood there completely still, trying to figure out where the hell things went wrong. Why would he react like that? He looked almost scared before he left.

  I should go after him. And say what? I didn’t understand what had upset him, and I didn’t want to make things worse. I paced the open space in my entryway, going over what Bryan had said to me. I remembered that we made plans to hang out, but I was such a mess after the shoot that I couldn’t stand the thought of him, or anyone else who knew what I’d done, seeing me. I’d fled to my car down the street, cash in my pocket, and cried, full of shame and self-loathing.

  I hadn’t spared a thought for Rhett Ryder and the idea that he might be waiting to see me. But he had. He’d thought about me, too. Why would he? Second chance. I looked at Prince, who’d followed us to the door.

  “What did he mean by that? A second chance for what?” Why did he have so much fear in his eyes when he left? It was a look I recognized because it was what I felt when I looked at him. Fear of change, fear of rejection. Why would he fear that? Unless—

  No, he couldn’t. But what if he did? A hundred different emotions and urges pulled me in all directions, yet one pull was stronger than the others. I opened the door and ran out into the hall, only to skid to a stop when I saw Bryan standing with his forehead resting against the wall outside of my apartment.

  He lifted his head at the ruckus I made, but before he could get a word out, I stepped into his space, closed my eyes, and pressed my trembling lips to his. My uncertainty melted away once I felt his lips on mine and everything felt right. When he put his hands on my waist and kissed me back, I felt whole. He’d been what was missing this whole time, and I was too stupid to notice it.

  His tongue swept into my mouth and skimmed the roof of my mouth, making me moan. He growled into my mouth and tightened his grip in response, and my dick took notice. I pulled back before I embarrassed myself by doing something stupid like jizzing in my fucking pants. Taking a deep breath, I took another step back from Bryan until I was out of his grasp. I breathed in and out a couple of times to reorient myself, blinking the stupor out of my eyes.

  “Why?” Bryan asked. His forehead creased with confusion. I wanted to kiss him again and erase that look from his face.

  I looked around the empty hallway and asked if he’d come back inside. Once we had some privacy, the weight of what I’d just done hit me and a flush crept up my chest and neck.

  “Eli—”

  “No. I should probably talk first.” Since I did just throw myself at you. “Um. So, I kissed you.” I dropped my eyes and focused on Prince dancing around Bryan’s feet, trying to get his attention. He gave in and reached down to pet her.

  “Maybe we should go sit down and talk about this?”

  I nodded and mechanically marched over to the couch, plunking down in the middle. Bryan took his usual spot. “I kissed you. And I was going to apologize for not asking, but it just dawned on me that y
ou kissed me back. Like, a lot.”

  Bryan smiled nervously. “I did.”

  “So, you’re not mad?” I needed to hear it. At that point it was pretty obvious, but I needed him to say it.

  “I’m not remotely mad, Eli. I’m happy, though I’m a little confused.”

  I huffed out a laugh. “Believe me, I am too. I’m just so relieved you’re not angry with me.”

  “I’m so fucking far from angry—you have no idea.”

  “I hope you’ll tell me when I’m done talking. To put it frankly, I think I’m in love with you.” Bryan’s eyes were saucers, and he just stared at me, unblinking. “Should I not have said that?”

  “No, you just surprised me. I don’t know why, I wouldn’t have expected that kind of confession to come any other way from you. Then again, I never thought I’d hear those words from you. Are you sure?”

  “I’m pretty damn sure. I’ve never been in love before, but if it means thinking about someone for nearly every waking hour, wanting to see them… wanting to touch them, then it’s safe to say that I do. Love you, I mean. I thought it was admiration, and perhaps it was in the beginning. You were this new, exciting person who somehow gave a shit about me. I don’t know when exactly those feelings changed, but they did. And now I can’t stop thinking about you.” I licked my dry lips and swallowed to try and wet my throat. “I wondered what you might taste like, and now I’m glad I know.

  “You’re my best friend, Bryan. You’ve given me so much and helped me grow more than I ever thought was possible. We’ve done so much together, but now I want more. I want you. These feelings confused me when they first started, but I’m not confused anymore. I understand that this is probably a lot to just lay on you, and I’m sorry about that. I felt like I needed to say it.”

  “I don’t fucking believe this,” Bryan said, almost breathlessly. “I’ve wanted you since the day we met. Since the very first damn day. I’ve been in love with you for months. I—” He stopped himself and balled his fist on his thigh. “Is this really happening?”