4. Darius
Chapter four
Darius
Darius watched his best friend disappear into the house, worry making him want to follow even though he knew Luis wouldn’t want that, especially with Rosa hot on his heels.
Fucking Andrés. Whenever his name came up, Luis got weird. Even when Gabriella first brought Andrés around, Luis had been wary of the guy, but after the incident with the X, he refused to be anywhere near him. Darius supposed that made sense, especially since he still wanted to hit Andrés in his perfectly cut jaw for what he’d pulled back then and for all the times he’d tried to corner Luis since then. And showing up at the condo in, what? hours after he got out of jail? He always seemed to be playing some kind of game with Luis, but Darius had no clue what it was. Just Andrés being a dick, most likely, and using Luis’ discomfort as a way to get money out of him.
Beside him, Ricky let out a frustrated breath. “Fuck,” he said and put his phone facedown on the picnic table when Darius turned to look at him.
“Anything wrong?”
Shaking his head, Ricky scooped up some more of the picadillo with a bit of tortilla and popped it into his mouth. “This is so good. Seriously, why isn’t Rosa running a restaurant? This is better than any of the taquerias I’ve eaten at.”
“Because it takes a lot of money to open a restaurant,” Darius answered. He nodded to the neighboring houses. The street wasn’t fancy, and people kept their houses up as best they could, but it was still older-model cars parked in front and multiple generations sharing inside. “People here don’t really have that kind of extra cash. Luis’ dad runs a painting crew, and one family business with a feast-or-famine bottom line’s enough to deal with. Rosa works as a healthcare aide to keep a steady income, and Luis and his older sister help out.”
On the table between them, Ricky’s phone vibrated with an alert, but he ignored it.
“You going to get that?” Darius asked.
Ricky shook his head. “Just more of the same.”
Raising an eyebrow, Darius shrugged. “?Kay.”
The phone vibrated again. “Fuck. This is ridiculous.” Ricky picked up the phone and grimaced at what he saw on the screen, then raised a hand to his forehead, where a bruise was still visible. He looked at Darius and shook his head again. “Someone uploaded a video of me getting clocked with that soda can on the flight, and it went viral, but now there are memes, and my friends keep sending them to me.” Ricky turned his phone around so Darius could see.
“Shit,” Darius said. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure it would be funny if it had happened to someone else, but—”
“It wouldn’t. That asshole could have seriously hurt you or another passenger. There’s no excuse for that behavior, and it’s worse because everyone has a phone now. As soon as something happens, they all whip them out, hoping for something like this. No one thinks about the fact that you’re a real person.”
Ricky grimaced, then raised the bottle to his lips and finished off his beer. It was clear he wanted the conversation to move on as he nodded toward the house. “Do you think he’s okay?”
Several minutes had passed since Luis disappeared into the house. “I hope so,” Darius said.
“You want to go check on him?”
“Yeah. You mind?” Darius asked, but he was already standing.
“Go on. I’ll be fine out here with my asshole friends reminding me every five seconds of the most humiliating thing that’s ever happened to me.” Even though his voice was sharp, Ricky was trying to smile. “Go. Take care of Luis.”
Darius hated letting the moment go because it was the first time Ricky had opened up about what was going on for him, but his worry for Luis outweighed his desire to talk to Ricky.
Following Luis’ path into the house, Darius heard him and Rosa arguing as soon as he stepped inside the kitchen. It was rare for Luis to get angry with his mother, even rarer for Rosa to raise her voice. She preferred to use stony silence to let her children know when she didn’t approve of something they’d done. Both of them had their tempers up, and Darius didn’t know whether he should remain where he was, intercede, or go back outside and hope they didn’t notice he’d overheard them. It wasn’t until he heard Andrés’ name that he made up his mind to stay right where he was.
“I raised you to be forgiving,” Rosa said. “Love the sinner, not the sin.”
“Some people don’t deserve forgiveness, Ma.”
“I don’t understand why you don’t like him. If you told me—”
“And I’ve said I don’t want to talk about it.”
“He’s family.”
“Not mine.”
“Luis Roberto Herrera—”
“I am done with this conversation.”
The coldness and venom in Luis’ voice was unlike anything he’d ever heard from his friend. Darius barely registered that Luis was on the move before a door slammed shut, and Rosa returned to the kitchen, muttering rapid-fire Spanish under her breath. She stopped short when she saw him, the tension in her face instantly dissolving into her usual expression of mild amusement, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Whatever had happened between mother and son was still at the forefront of her mind.
“Ay. That one has always been so stubborn,” she said to Darius, trying to make light of what he’d overheard. “Do you know why there’s this thing between him and Andrés?”
Darius shook his head. If Luis hadn’t shared what Andrés had done with his mother, it wasn’t his place to do it. “I think Andrés bullied him when we were younger,” he said, hoping that would appease her. It was the truth, just not the whole truth.
Rosa began cleaning the already spotless kitchen, still muttering under her breath, and it took Darius a moment to realize she wasn’t angry at Luis. She was worried, and that just about killed him because he was worried, too.
“I’m gonna go check on him,” Darius said.
“Please.” Rosa nodded. “He listens to you. See if you can talk some sense into him.”
Doubtful that was possible and dubious about what kind of sense Rosa meant, Darius made his way through the living room and down that hall to the bedrooms. God . How many times had he done this exact same thing since he and Luis were eight? Coming over day after day, the two of them running through the house, begging Rosa for cookies and other treats, her half-hearted threats when they tracked dirt across her floors or found snakes to bring home. So many versions of Luis and himself accompanied him to the door of Luis’ bedroom.
“Chico?” Darius asked as he rapped lightly on the door with his knuckles. “I’m coming in.” He waited a moment, but when Luis didn’t tell him not to, he turned the knob and opened the door slowly.
The first thing he saw was Luis curled on his bed, and it hit him how much this reminded him of the night of Marissa’s party. Like that night twelve years before, the shades were drawn on the windows, and the room was dim. Luis lay on his side, his back to the door, but he moved over a bit to make space for Darius.
“What’s going on, chico?” Darius asked as he sat on the mattress. Luis scooted over a bit more, and Darius took it as an indication that he wanted Darius to lie down and hold him, something he was very willing to do. He gathered Luis into his arms and curved his larger body around Luis’ smaller one. It was a tighter fit than it used to be, but Darius didn’t mind the need to snuggle in close.
Luis took a deep breath as he settled against Darius’ chest. “How angry is she?” he asked, his voice dull.
“She’s more worried than angry. Confused, too.” Darius paused. “Just like I am. Are you going to tell me what you were arguing about?”
“Same old Andrés bullshit. I don’t get how the whole family is so blind. They all love him. Even if I told them about the money, they’d tell me that’s what family’s supposed to do. It’s frustrating. The fucking asshole drugged me!” Luis shuddered and shrank back against Darius as if he were trying to make himself as small as possible. “And I don’t know if they’d believe that if I told them that. They’d probably make up some bullshit excuse.”
Tightening his arms around his best friend, Darius kissed the top of his head. “Is that all it is?” he asked.
Darius didn’t miss the way Luis went rigid.
“Of course it is. God. I thought coming here would be nice and relaxing. Fun. We’d get a good meal. I’d let Ma fawn over me. I didn’t think it was going to be a shit visit. And Ricky…fuck, the first time he hangs out with us, and I flip out. He must think I’m an idiot.”
“I doubt that. He’s dealing with some of his own stuff right now, too.” Darius let Luis’ deflection go. He wasn’t going to push, even though he could tell Luis wasn’t telling him the whole truth. This wasn’t the first time it crossed his mind that Luis’ anger at Andrés was out of proportion for what had happened. Yes, it had been an asshole thing to do, and a betrayal, but Luis hadn’t gotten hurt, and as far as Darius knew, Andrés hadn’t pulled anything like that again. But all these years later, Luis couldn’t let it go.
“Why don’t we get your ma to pack up some leftovers and head home?”
A couple of hours later, they were back at the condo with only remnants of the picadillo con papas and arroz rojo left clinging to the containers Rosa had packed for them. As soon as they were done eating, Ricky retreated to his room. He hadn’t said much on the drive home. Neither had Luis, for that matter, leaving Darius to stew in his thoughts as he navigated the LA traffic back to West Hollywood.
Luis patted his stomach, then heaved himself off the couch. “I’m going to make margaritas,” he said as he headed for the kitchen. “Do you want one?”
With a sigh, Darius got off the couch and followed Luis. “Don’t you have an early flight tomorrow?” he asked.
Pausing as he reached for the margarita mix, Luis turned and all but glared at Darius. “I do. And?”
“Nothing.” Darius put his hands up. “Just a question.”
With a shake of his head, Luis turned back toward the counter and continued mixing his drink. “I can feel you staring at me.”
Darius walked over, put his arms around Luis’ waist, and rested his chin on Luis’ shoulder. “I’m concerned about you, chico.”
“Because I’m making margaritas? I do this all the time.”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
Luis nodded and stilled. “Can we not do this right now? Please?”
“Whatever you need as long as you promise you’re all right.”
“I am. I just…” The shudder that rippled through Luis’ body felt as if it carried all the way into Darius’ bones.
Darius turned Luis so they were now face-to-face, chest-to-chest. His arms were still draped around Luis’ neck, and he lowered his head to kiss Luis lightly on the lips. “I love you, chico. You’re my alma gemela, my soul twin. When you hurt, I hurt.”
Luis put his arms around Darius’ waist and gave him the first real smile he’d seen since returning home. “Thank you.”
They spent the rest of the evening watching a movie, and Darius was distracted by the feel of Luis leaning against him, the warmth of his body, the way his muscles shifted as he reached for his drink or found a more comfortable position. Luis had always been free with his body, always willing to snuggle, caress, kiss, even jerk off with Darius. But it wasn’t Luis’ body that Darius craved. He wanted Luis’ heart.
It was the bitterness of knowing he didn’t have it that kept their relationship firmly in the friend zone and made it possible for Darius to curl up on the couch with Luis and keep any feelings of arousal at bay. Even when Luis’ hand crept under his shirt and idly caressed the bare skin of his stomach, Darius didn’t flinch and kept his attention on the movie.
When Luis tried to stifle his third yawn in less than ten minutes, Darius knew it was time to get him to bed. Luis needed to wake up at five so he could get to LAX on time for his flight, and it was already past his bedtime. Darius suspected he was putting it off as long as he could and was probably going to plead his early morning to get out of explaining today’s meltdown. If that was how Luis wanted to play it, Darius was willing, but he’d much rather know what was going on with his friend.
A fourth yawn cracked Luis’s jaw, and Darius nudged him with a knee. “Come on, chico, time for sleep.”
“I am,” Luis said and made to snuggle closer to Darius.
“Bed. Or else you’re going to be pissy tomorrow.”
Luis groaned, sounding every inch like the petulant teenager he used to be. “I hate being a grown-up.”
“Yeah. I know. It sucks.”
They untangled their legs, and Luis let go of Darius, lifted himself off Darius’ chest and sat up. Darius missed the weight and warmth immediately, but he consoled himself with the sight of Luis stretching his arms overhead. The cropped T-shirt he wore pulled up, exposing his flat stomach and making Darius’ fingers ache to touch the soft, bronze skin much like Luis had been doing to him. He lost himself in a fantasy of kneeling before Luis, trailing kisses across those firm abs, pushing Luis’ shorts down to release his cock, and—
“Sorry?” he asked. Luis had said something.
Luis laughed and got up from the couch. “Guess I’m not the only one who needs to go to bed.”
With a sheepish shrug, he held his hand out, let Luis pull him to his feet, then followed his best friend down the hallway to the bathroom. Side by side, they brushed their teeth, the action familiar from years of repetition, but Darius was still acutely aware of this thing hanging between them and the tension it had created. That awareness made every brush of Luis’ arm against his, every bump of their hips, send a jolt through Darius’ body, and he found himself staring at Luis in the mirror. He loved the way they looked together, how Luis’ body curved perfectly against his own, his shoulders at the perfect height for Darius to put an arm around him, his forehead in the right place for Darius to place kisses along his hairline.
The prospect of a day without Luis at home wasn’t something Darius wanted to think about, and he hadn’t checked to see if Luis was in the condo alone after he returned.
“Everyone needs to redo the flight schedule on the fridge,” Darius said as he rinsed off his toothbrush and put it in its charging base. He pumped a couple of beads of moisturizer into his palm and then smoothed it over his face while Luis turned on the shower because he wouldn’t have time for one in the morning.
“I know. Everyone’s gotten delayed or switched, and Greg’s all over the place, depending on where Holden is.” Luis stuck an arm into the shower spray. “How long do you think we’ve got before we need to look for someone new?”
Darius shook his head. “No idea, but probably sooner rather than later.” He tried not to look in the mirror as Luis stripped, but it was no use. His gaze was drawn to the sight of Luis’ smooth back, deliciously pert ass, and trim legs like a moth to a flame, and he leaned against the top of the vanity to stave off the ache he felt between his legs. There wasn’t anything he could do about the one in his heart.
“Maybe we should think about not bringing in a fourth,” Luis said as he stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain shut.
Darius continued his nighttime routine, conditioning and oiling his hair and wrapping it in a silk scarf, then moisturizing his body with a sweet-smelling shea butter Luis said reminded him of the cookies his abuela made at Christmas. The whole time Luis’ comment turned around in his head.
Unlike when Luis had first inherited the condo from an uncle, they made enough now to pay all their bills, and they both had money put aside. Flying wasn’t going to be a forever thing for either of them, and they’d saved with that thought in mind. They hadn’t talked about their plans for life after they left the industry in some time, Darius realized. Years, maybe? He knew Luis dreamed of owning a vintage shop full of pretty things from the latter half of the twentieth century, but Darius still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. He hadn’t known after four years of college and a degree in history either, which was why he’d followed Luis and become a flight attendant.
Luis was still in the shower when Darius returned to their bedroom and changed into a tank top and briefs. He loved their room from the dark green walls to the mid-century his-and-hers bedroom set Luis had found at an estate sale in Palm Springs to the art prints they’d discovered at a weekend market.
Turning down the covers, Darius got into bed and waited for Luis to join him. He picked up his phone and scrolled through social media until Luis walked through the doorway with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Dropping the towel on the end of the bed, Luis rummaged through his dresser while Darius prayed for his body to keep calm. When Luis bent over and presented Darius with a prime view of his ass, Darius gave up the battle. He got up from the bed, scooped Luis’ towel up, said he was going to hang it up in the bathroom, and got the hell out of the bedroom.
Luis was casual about his nakedness around Darius, the same as he was about touching and cuddling. Darius believed it was born out of their early friendship and the amount of time they spent with each other as children. Hot days in LA were often spent running naked through the sprinklers in either his yard or Luis’. That freeness with their bodies had developed into the intimacy of two boys discovering their physicality and sexuality while not admitting to each other who and what they really wanted for fear it would ruin their friendship. They pretended to be straight, wrestled and tussled the way they saw the straight boys do those things, and surreptitiously studied each other’s changing bodies as they grew into teens, still sharing a bed in each other’s houses the same way they had at eight because neither of them wanted to give up that closeness.
Together, they’d discovered how to jerk off and the intense pleasure of an orgasm. If Darius’ were often the product of fantasies about taking his best friend’s cock in his own hands or his mouth or his body, he thought he did a good job hiding his true feelings. Even now, Darius was sure Luis would never guess how much he craved to be more than best friends.
By the time he returned to the bedroom, Luis was under the covers. Darius turned off the lights and got into bed, unsurprised when Luis snuggled up against him. Turning on his side, Darius wrapped Luis in his arms and smiled when Luis let out a sigh.
“Better, chico?” Darius asked.
“Always,” Luis answered and wiggled his ass against Darius.
Darius put his hand on Luis’ hip to stop his movement. He let his hand rest there, resisting the urge to caress Luis’ smooth skin, to outline the jut of his hip bone, and…Darius cut off his train of thought. Those thoughts led only to frustration and heartache.
“I wish I didn’t have to fly out in the morning,” Luis said.
Although he had suspicions about why Luis had said that, Darius decided to play it cool. “Why?” he asked.
Luis shifted, creating a bit of space between their bodies. “I hate arguing with my mom. And I hate leaving without a chance to say I’m sorry.”
“Text her in the morning and let her know.” Darius nudged Luis with his knee. “Anything else, chico?” The way Luis curled in on himself confirmed what Darius suspected. Luis’ blowup with Rosa hadn’t just been about Andrés. “You know you can tell me anything, and I’ll still love you.”
“I know.”
With a huge sigh, Luis rolled over and faced Darius. He raised a hand to Darius’ face and traced the lines of his cheekbones, his lips. Luis’ fingers stroked the side of Darius’ neck, pressed into the hollow where Darius’ shoulder and collarbone met. Darius closed his eyes because the intensity of Luis’ gaze scared him. Not because of what he feared Luis would say but because of what he might. Luis’ emotions were right on the surface, and they’d brought the need to protect and defend him to the forefront for Darius. His friend was hurting, and he’d do anything he could to make that pain go away.
Luis snuggled into Darius again, this time facing him, and tangled their legs together. “I’m good, though, Dar. I promise.”
“Okay.”
They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms just like they had on so many other nights. And just like so many other nights, Darius was woken by Luis mumbling and whimpering in his sleep. He wasn’t having a full-blown nightmare, but he was clearly in distress. Darius rolled him onto his back, then gathered Luis into his arms.
“I’ve got you, chico,” he whispered and kissed the top of Luis’ head. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Darius tried to relax, tried to let his mind quiet, but he couldn’t. He held Luis, hands lightly caressing, soothing, comforting as he listened to Luis’ breathing grow steady again as he drifted into a deeper sleep. Gradually, he started to drift off as well, but it was just at the moment that sleep was descending that Darius heard Luis whisper something that sounded like “Andrés” and was instantly awake again.
Propping himself on one elbow, Darius stared down at Luis’ sleeping face, willing him to repeat whatever he’d just said, but of course, he didn’t. Moreover, Luis looked fully relaxed, his mouth curved into a smile. Darius’ heart pounded so hard he was afraid Luis would hear it and wake, but Luis only shifted closer, his body moving into the space Darius had created as he’d shifted positions.
“Love you, Drés,” Luis whispered.
Darius’ heart pounded even harder as he replayed the sounds in his head. No, he hadn’t heard his own name. Luis called him “Dar,” not “Drés.” A horrible thought blinded Darius with its sudden intensity. All these years, he’d thought Luis’ animosity toward Andrés stemmed from what had happened at Marissa’s party, that he was angry about being drugged and—though Darius had always shoved the possibility to the back of his mind because he couldn’t bear the thought of it—even assaulted.
The events of that night and Luis’ subsequent actions scrolled through his memory, and Darius started seeing them in a new light. Their kisses, followed by Luis crying in the bathroom. The way Luis had told him to go home and refused to talk about what had happened later. Luis’ anger whenever his family talked about his cousin’s boyfriend and the way it had come bubbling to the surface when Rosa mentioned Andrés’ release from prison.
Was it possible Darius had been wrong all these years? Had Luis’ tears that night been because he wanted Andrés and not Darius? That thought stabbed through Darius’ heart like a knife and refused to let him fall back asleep. He lay awake for most of the night, feigning sleep when Luis’ alarm went off, only emerging from the bedroom after he heard the front door close with Luis’ departure at five.
In the kitchen, Darius tossed a pod into the Keurig and pressed the button to start it brewing. He’d only gotten a few hours of sleep and felt like shit, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep any better now that the day had started. Though he’d intended to run some errands today, Darius decided to take it easy. Sitting out on the balcony, watching all the pretty boys play in the pool, sipping a steady stream of mimosas, and listening to an audiobook sounded like the perfect day. It would give him time to consider everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. As if more time might make things clearer to him.
When his coffee was done, Darius added creamer, then headed to the table, where he waited for the liquid to cool enough to take his first sip. His mind was still on Luis— what else was new? —but now, it was only spinning in circles with the same questions and thoughts on endless repeat. His stomach and chest were a tangled mess of hurt and bewilderment, and his entire body ached with longing for Luis. Who was—Darius checked the time on his phone—just about to board the plane and start the preflight prep. Any answers Darius might be able to get from him were going to have to wait.
Darius reached out for the next best thing and texted Greg.
When are you coming home?
Greg: Why?
Darius: I need someone to talk to.
Greg: What did Luis do now?
Trying hard not to smile, Darius texted back: Why would you think this has anything to do with Luis?
His phone rang almost immediately with a FaceTime call from Greg. When he answered it, he was met by a close-up of Greg’s face and his raised, skeptical eyebrow. Beyond Greg’s shoulder, Darius caught sight of his silver fox boyfriend, Holden. They were apparently sitting on the couch, and Darius was relieved he hadn’t interrupted anything intimate. He’d meant his text to be more of a joke than the call for help Greg had apparently taken it to be.
“Talk to me,” Greg said.
“I’m being stupid,” Darius told him.
“Of course you are. And I’d bet Luis is, too. Doesn’t mean there isn’t something going on.”
“Yeah.” Darius looked away from his phone and stared out the window. The sun was starting to come up, and the world was beginning to take on its normal shapes and colors. It was strange how the dark always made things unfamiliar. Even less tangible things like memories became something different in the middle of the night.
“Come on, Darius. Tell me what’s going on.”
And Darius did, spilling the whole story from growing up with Luis, realizing he was gay and in love with his best friend, then the party and its aftermath, Luis’ coming out and how he’d still been in the friend zone, and the way in which Darius had learned to live with the ache in his heart even while he was able to hold Luis in his arms. He tried to stay away from saying anything that was too much a part of Luis’ story, but there were things he had to tell Greg in order to explain where they were now. Like Andrés.
When he was finished, Greg remained silent, which didn’t surprise Darius. Of all their roommates, Greg was the most reserved and preferred to think before he spoke. Darius got up from the table and made himself another cup of coffee.
“That’s a lot,” Greg finally said.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Oh, my God,” Ricky said as he entered the kitchen, obviously having overheard most if not all of Darius’ conversation with Greg. “What is with you people? No one is worth waiting decades for, if you ask me. There is no way I would do what you and Micah have done, Darius. Twenty years for him? Twelve for you? No fucking thank you.”
“And how’s that working out for you, sweetheart?” Greg asked.
“Just fine, if you want to know. I’d rather it be like you and your silver fox because when you know, you know, right? None of this pining and mooning and angst in the middle of the night.”
“It’s six thirty in the morning,” Darius said.
“And you know what I mean. If I have to wait around for someone to get his head out of his ass…” Ricky rolled his eyes. “Why put myself through that?” He shrugged. “At least I finally know what’s going on with you and Luis.”
Ricky’s phone buzzed at that moment, sparing either Darius or Greg the need to respond to his outburst. One look at his phone, and Ricky cursed. He picked up his mug and gave Darius a thin-lipped smile. “While I’d love to stick around and listen to the drama, I’ve got somewhere to be. Don’t wait up for me.” With that, Ricky turned and exited the kitchen.
“What was that all about?” Greg asked.
“No idea.” Darius shook his head. “Anyway…”
“Yeah. Anyway. I don’t know what to tell you except you’re going to have to talk it out with Luis. And I know that’s not what you want to hear, but…”
Darius nodded. “But…”
The front door slammed as Ricky exited the condo.
“He’s still a weird one,” Greg said.
“I know. He loosened up a bit yesterday when Luis and I took him shopping, but then we got home, and he holed up in his room.”
They chatted a bit more about Ricky and work and when Greg might be back in LA. When they said goodbye half an hour later, Darius felt relaxed enough to take a nap. But he took it on the couch because he couldn’t face sleeping in his bed alone.