Chapter Twenty-Five
“Up, up, up,” Dylan said, knocking on doors.
He’d prepared an outing this morning with a few of the residents as they lazily meandered around the house, their first day of winter vacation.
“Y’all wanted lunch, part of that involves actually getting out of your bed.”
“They don’t even open until the afternoon,” Yazmin said with a yawn as she stepped out of her bedroom.
“You do way too much.” Chelsea squeezed by Yazmin, then made her way into the bathroom.
Dylan clapped enthusiastically, parading around the teens until they begrudgingly got dressed and ready.
As the only juniors in the house, Dylan planned a little getaway for them since he’d been so preoccupied with setting up for the upcoming fundraiser.
Jasmine prioritized talks with several of the teens about to age out of the system.
It wasn’t like she wouldn’t provide them a safety net if they needed it, but she preferred to work with them toward a goal, a plan for their future.
Since she was going to use the bulk of the vacation days to work with the seniors on their plans for their final semester of high school, Dylan figured it’d be a good time to remind the juniors they weren’t forgotten.
Plus, he could delicately pry for any details on where their minds were leaning toward for life after high school.
Life after Dorothy’s Home. Something Dylan himself never figured out, since he sort of wrapped himself up in keeping the house running.
Although that in itself seemed to be quite a goal to set.
Dylan was proud of his decision to keep his home standing strong.
“Let’s get this over with so I can eat,” Miguel said with a huff.
The teens followed Dylan out to his car and lounged quietly on the drive over to a nearby hiking trail.
Dylan didn’t pry anyone for conversation during the walk.
Oh no, he smiled as they complained about the bright sun.
He stayed silent as they cursed about the cold air.
He stifled a few chuckles as they swore with nearly every step.
But it kept them active, woke them up, and helped them bond as they collectively decided Dylan was the worst human on the planet to force them to walk this very breezy two-mile trek to earn their lunch.
By the time they left the trail, the sun had moved high in the sky and warmed everyone’s frozen faces. Dylan cranked the heat up, ensuring hands and feet would thaw on the drive over to the steakhouse.
Dylan would’ve preferred a cheaper lunch outing, but he’d allowed the teens to pick, and since they knew they’d have to suffer through a nature trail for their food, they decided to ensure Dylan’s wallet also felt the pain.
Once they got inside and placed their orders, the mood quickly shifted.
“Who you texting?”
“No one,” Miguel replied, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I made the mistake of befriending some of the AP girlies, and they’re already planning ACT study groups.”
There was a snarky lilt in Miguel’s voice, clearly annoyed at the idea of using his break for schoolwork.
“Already preparing for ACTs, huh?” Dylan asked with an approving nod. “That’s exciting. Big step.”
“Well, I don’t plan on living with Jailor Jazzy my entire life,” Miguel said with a sigh. “The idea of helping stupid children all day sounds miserable.”
“It can be pretty rewarding, too.”
Miguel rolled his eyes.
“We’ve been considering the college,” Chelsea added. “I mean, since it’s right there.”
She gestured, indicating that the campus was practically everyone in town, which was true.
“Well, we are,” Chelsea continued, pointing to herself and Miguel. “Yaz is probably going to end up somewhere halfway across the country.”
“Doubtful.” Yazmin picked at her food. “Scouts today could mean nothing next year. They’re always chasing the next big athlete, so who’s to say they’ll give a shit about me next year?”
“How many colleges have approached you?” Dylan asked.
Yazmin shrugged. “None I’m really interested in, so it doesn’t matter.”
“You know, if you end up picking some place close, we could get a big ass apartment and really live it up,” Miguel said, nudging Yazmin and grinning at Chelsea.
“Yes, college is going to be so nice. No rules, no bullshit busy work,” Chelsea added. “Though, pretty sure your itty bitty short king will finally graduate by the time you enroll.”
Dylan quirked a brow but didn’t say anything about their casual commentary on Rus. If he added something, chances were he’d only fan the flames.
“Blegh, I’m so over him,” Miguel said with a twisted frown. “The terrible wardrobe I could work with, but the bad taste in men is simply a dealbreaker.”
“Ouch,” Dylan replied with a small smile.
It hadn’t taken long for everyone at the house to piece together Dylan’s somewhat confusing relationship status. Though no one really batted an eye at the fact that he had two boyfriends, other than to suggest they were surprised he managed to land one boyfriend.
“Oh, sweetie, it’s not your fault.” Miguel mockingly patted Dylan on the shoulder. “You were born this way. It can’t be helped.”
“I’m not exactly sure why I’m being insulted, but okay?”
“Just Miguel saving face,” Chelsea said with a wicked grin.
“Gotta pretend you didn’t steal his crush by acting so above it,” Yazmin added.
“Shut up,” Miguel hissed. “I got so many men knocking at my door, I don’t have time to look down at someone else’s leftovers.”
Yazmin and Chelsea burst into laughter, much to Miguel’s aggravation. He started swearing at them in Spanish. It didn’t take long for the three of them to lose themselves in conversation, casual insults, and playful barbs as they ate.
Dylan smiled, listening intently as they enjoyed their lunch.
In the days leading up to the fundraiser, Dylan was a wreck. He always overextended himself and got a little lost on the perfect details nobody else could do. Mainly, because he so rarely trusted someone else to handle those details.
“Relax.” Kaiden pressed a hand to the small of Dylan’s back, centering him, pulling him back down to earth.
Kaiden always managed to soothe Dylan in the simplest ways. With a quick reminder, Kaiden went over the checklist with Dylan, he texted Rus, and they did a run-through on the performances planned for the evening.
Okay, maybe Dylan did trust some people to help with those pesky perfect details.
Kaiden never let him down, and Rus turned out to be quite the talent for wrangling performers.
There was a slight hiccup when Daysha called earlier about some of her Pride Club members falling through, but Rus ran interference.
According to the texts, all had been resolved.
“What do you think he did?”
“Probably punched somebody,” Kaiden joked.
“Oh, don’t say that.” Dylan chuckled, then contemplated. “You don’t think he actually punched them, right? I don’t want any of the performers to have black eyes or bloody noses.”
“Please, black eyes would take days to show up, and a bloody nose is an easy fix.” Kaiden rubbed Dylan’s shoulders, grinning at him with this goading expression. “Relax. Rus knows how to behave.”
“Right, right.” Dylan rushed off to attend to the last touches before potential patrons showed up.
Despite his typical day-of stress, everything went quite well.
Guests enjoyed the food, cocktails, and entertainment.
Kaiden and Rus skirted away any headaches before they came in Dylan’s direction—doing so in a way that they assumed Dylan wouldn’t register.
Of course, he noticed. He noticed every tiny detail, but he breathed easily, knowing he could entrust his boyfriends to handle any last-minute hiccups without causing a scene.
It allowed Dylan to bask in the fundraiser and enjoy the performances while chatting up donors between sets.
“It’s such a lovely event,” Jasmine said, joining Dylan at the edge of the audience as the latest singer finished their set.
“Thank you.” Dylan smiled. “I try.”
“You always put together such splendid parties,” Jasmine continued. “I might let you continue organizing these group festivities in the future. Working with the organizations takes it out of me.”
“I totally get that.” Dylan chuckled. “I’ll gladly keep working on these and any others for as long as you’ll have me. Anything to make the world a little safer, a little happier.”
Jasmine didn’t reply, but her eyes studied him curiously, so Dylan elaborated.
“I talked with Kaiden and Rus,” he explained, then found his mind wandering to ways to shorthand their names.
Rus was already clearly a nickname, just Dylan had no inkling for what.
Shortening Kaiden seemed odd. Kai or Den or just K didn’t fit him well.
Then he contemplated just referring to them as his boyfriends, but that seemed generic, and they were anything but. “Maybe Raiden or Kus.”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, thinking aloud. Overthinking, perhaps,” Dylan said. “Or underthinking. I forgot to combine my name in there, too.”
“Excuse me?” Jasmine stared quite perplexed.
“My bad.” Dylan scratched the back of his head, laughing a bit at himself. “I talked with my boyfriends about our future. Who really knows where things will lead, but we’re all excited for wherever that might be. We’re in it together.”
“That’s lovely.”
“But that doesn’t mean I plan on stepping away from Dorothy’s Home any time soon,” Dylan added. “In fact, I’d stay forever if you’d keep me around.”
“What about your relationship?”
“What about it?” Dylan shrugged. “They know my home is important to me, my family. They don’t expect me to put it on pause just because that’s conventional.
We’re happy just the way we are, and if things shift in the future, we’ll talk about it.
Me and them. And obviously, me and you. But I don’t foresee changing careers or putting anything on hold just because things are getting a bit serious romantically. ”
Dylan’s hands got sweaty from nerves, and he wiped them on his dress pants, stealthy but not nearly stealthy enough to escape Jasmine’s notice.
“And yeah, I suppose this is a bit presumptuous. Assuming you want to keep me around for the long haul.” Dylan laughed awkwardly. “Heck, maybe you were hoping I’d get a boyfriend and move out and start…I don’t know. And here I went and got two and somehow still managed to refuse to take a hint.”
“No hints were ever dropped, sweetie.” Jasmine smiled at him in a way that always brought Dylan comfort, a way that said she saw him and loved him and supported him. “I just want you to follow your heart and do what makes you happy.”
“Helping you, helping the home, that’s what makes me happy.”
“Well, then, maybe we should start discussing you taking on more responsibilities.”
“More?” Dylan quirked a brow. “Like what exactly?”
“More like seeing how the home is really run,” Jasmine replied, discussing things like how to network, negotiate, and navigate in a world where homes like hers were mostly unwanted.
“I’m talking about balancing the books, learning how to process truckloads of paperwork, file appeals to fuck all bureaucrats who don’t give a damn if you fail again and again and again. ”
“Wow.” Dylan gave a nervous smile.
He’d worked alongside Jasmine for years, learning little things here and there, but he’d never really done the heavy lifting.
The more she spoke, the more he realized just how little he knew when it came to keeping them afloat day in and day out.
Jasmine was practically a superhero, refusing to let their home or anyone in it sink.
“Who knows, maybe one day you could learn the ropes so well you end up taking over.” Jasmine laughed a bit, friendly and inviting. “Then I could retire. And by retire, I mean find something new to meddle with. There’s easily a thousand more things to cross off my list one of these days.”
“That’d be something for sure.” Dylan’s smile eased into something genuine.
He’d never considered running Dorothy’s Home.
That was easily a million years away, and perhaps only a sliver of a possibility.
Dylan certainly didn’t feel mature enough to handle the house.
Not really. Not at this stage in his life.
Then again, Jasmine was barely in her thirties when she founded the home.
That was practically a blink away for Dylan. A few short years at most.
“But just a heads up that this work can put a strain on relationships,” Jasmine said, once again reminding Dylan of the price that came with giving his all to Dorothy’s Home.
This time her words didn’t create a sinking pit in his gut or a chilling quiver of doubt running over his skin. No, this time Dylan basked in the cool confidence he had maintained since the last conversation with his boyfriends.
Dylan eyed Rus and Kaiden, who’d wandered toward the edge of the party. Based on Rus’ antsy stance, he was in desperate need of a cigarette. Having them here to help made a world of difference. Having them here in his life made his world all the brighter.
“I’m not too worried about that,” Dylan replied to Jasmine’s comment. “Our relationship is a bit outside the box, so we should be able to weather any strain along the way.”
Dylan truly believed that, believed he could have it all with Kaiden and Rus. Though he didn’t know what having it all looked like or what it’d entail for them down the road, he was still eager to walk that path with them on either side.