Chapter 34
Trent
Magnus wants us to date? Or is he calling me out on turning this into dating without telling him. Did I do that? I wouldn’t consider it dating when—
“I don’t think it’s dating if both parties don’t agree that it’s a date. You never agreed to go on a date with me, so it was just us hanging out as friends and pretending to be two guys who didn’t know they were dating. We aren’t actually two guys who didn’t know we were dating.” Are we?
Magnus frowns, wrinkling his brow. “No, I think we’re friends who didn’t realize they were dating, don’t you?
We’ve been on a romantic track since we agreed to do this.
Not just a pretend one, but we’re having sex for us now.
That’s intimacy. We’re friends, but we’re exclusive with each other and we’re lovers. I think that makes us boyfriends.”
I give that a moment of thought, heart racing with some combination of nervousness and excitement.
“I really think the difference here is that boyfriends have had the talk about being boyfriends—why am I arguing about this? Yes. We are dating, and yes, we are boyfriends. That’s what I want. Is that what you want?”
Magnus smiles and it lights up my entire life. “Yes, I want that.”
“Fuck, yeah, you do.” I lift my hand to his face and try to get my excited, turned on heart to stop pounding like it’s going to gallop out of my chest. “Does this mean I can finally kiss you?”
Magnus’s breath hitches. “Yes, please.”
I close the distance between us and press my lips to his.
So soft.
Breathless, I part my mouth; he moves with me, and when I slot my mouth over his, he opens like that’s what he was made to do.
The first taste of him causes my softened cock to twitch and fill.
My entire body ignites with fire for him.
Fuck. He’s perfect. Mine. I get to keep him; I knew we were bound to meet the future together, but now—stars, supernova, blinding light. Mine.
Magnus whimpers and shifts. I move with him, crawling on top of him as he lies back on the sofa, and I nestle between his legs right where I belong.
Our tongues dance, tangled together as our hips grind against each other.
He’s as hard as I am and just as eager. As passionate and sexy as he always is.
I break the kiss to suck in some air. I could suffocate from kissing him, but I don’t want to die, because then I wouldn’t get to kiss him again. “Fuck, yes,” I growl, leaning up to grab our dicks in one hand.
“Yes, yes. That. Frotting. Make me come,” he begs, grabbing me around the neck and holding on like he might fly away if he lets go.
I shuttle my hand over our cocks, rocking into it with my hips.
Magnus leans up, retaking my mouth, and I dive into his kiss again, jacking us off while letting the meeting of our mouths push us into the oblivion of pleasure.
Magnus’s noises drive me crazy, and before I know it, I’m panting into his mouth, ready to explode again.
“Come for me,” I rasp, needing us both to get there together.
Magnus whimpers and his back arches. I thrust three more times against his cock, and it’s done for me. I look down, watching my cock explode, but microseconds later Magnus’s does too. The sight of us coming together sends a straight shot of lust to my dick, and it’s like I get two orgasms in one.
“Fuck!” The word erupts from me as I cover us both in jizz and he does the same. It’s absolutely fucking glorious.
It takes several moments before I can force myself to unclench my fingers, and then another moment to flop onto my back on the floor.
Magnus immediately joins me, cuddling in close, unconcerned about the mess on our bodies.
I wipe my hand on my bare thigh and pull him in.
We can shower later. Right now, we’re going to stay connected in this intimate moment, as Magnus would say.
“I love you,” I murmur, reminding him, as I always do, that he’s firmly in my heart.
Magnus hums sleepily. “I love you, but I don’t know if it’s appropriate to say that to a boyfriend you’ve had for a whole minute.”
I laugh, kissing his hair. “I’ve been saying it for months. I’m not going to stop because we decided to up the stakes. You’re mine, I’m yours, and I love you.”
Magnus sighs happily. “Yeah. I like that.”
Me, too.
***
While I took the car into the shop for a tire repair, Magnus decided to do some research, and now he’s driving, I’m holding the camera, and we’re pretending we aren’t boyfriends for an audience who already suspects we are or hopes we will be.
“Tell me what we’re doing?” I instruct Magnus from behind the camera.
Magnus glances at the camera, shakes his head, and shoots me a mischievous smile. “No, thanks. I think it should be a surprise.”
“We’re in a neighborhood. Are we meeting someone?” Magnus is winding through a quiet, uptown suburban neighborhood, so we’re either meeting a professor, or he’s taking us on the scenic route to a park or something.
“Where we’re going, I expect there to be at least one person we will meet,” he prevaricates, smiling as he turns into a cul de sac.
“You found a dead end,” I point out, looking around.
There’s streamers and balloons in front of one of the houses.
“A birthday party?” I ask, but there’s no cars in the driveway nor in the open garage. It looks abandoned except for the…
Sign that says, “Open House.”
“An open house? Are we house hunting?” It’s happening? Are we going to find and buy a house? Together. Shit. Yes! Fuck yes! Finally.
Magnus gives the camera a self-satisfied smile. “I have a whole tour of open houses lined up. We’re going to hit five of them, and then we’re having dinner at Critter’s Crab Shack because I feel like a Cajun boil.”
“Ooh, we’re going all out for today’s bro-date.” I have to laugh at that. Bro date my ass. This is our first date as boyfriends, and we’re house hunting. That… pretty much tracks with all my goals here.
Magnus turns up a mock accent and raises his voice an octave. “Everything for you, sugarplum.”
I laugh and turn off the video. I don’t know if we can record in the house, so I’ll wait to ask before we do. Never been to an open house, and I don’t want to fuck it up just because I’m inexperienced.
We get out of the car and walk up to the open front door. The place is fully furnished but doesn’t look lived in. There’s furniture, but no personal items. On a buffet, someone’s placed brochures and refreshments; I assume it’s the older woman with red lipstick standing next to it.
She sees us and smiles, more confused than welcoming. “Hello, I’m Jacqueline Cope. Are you here for the open house?”
Magnus turns on the charm, approaching her with his teacher-confidence and his arm outstretched.
“Magnus Lancaster, and this is Trent Bressler. We’re in the market for a house and decided to spend our afternoon touring the open houses that looked like they would fit us.
My colleague, Dr. Swenson, lives three houses down and recommended this one.
I think I came here for a house party last year.
Is this Stephanie and David Cross’s house? ”
Her smile becomes more welcoming. “It is. How do you know the homeowners?”
“Stephanie and I work together. She’s one of the adjuncts in the Chinese Studies department who cross-teaches Sociology with me.
David and I met before I became a professor, though.
We have the same social circle and attend many of the same events.
His parents and mine vacation together during the winter holidays. ”
I really wish I was allowed to record this, because this woman has dollar signs floating above her head at all the name dropping.
I knew it, but it still strikes me that Magnus knows and has personal relationships with wealthy people.
Not that this house is a mansion; it’s just a large suburban home.
Bigger than we need, honestly. A family home, which is what we wanted, because we want to sell it for a profit when we’re done with it.
Magnus and Jacqueline talk for a few minutes more, then more people start arriving, and pretty soon we’re in a guided tour of the house with Magnus commenting on some things he noted when he was here for that party.
He’s selling the house almost as much as the Realtor, and by the looks on some of the people’s faces, they’re sold on it.
I’d be fine if Magnus decided he wanted it, but if another professor lives three houses down, I think I’d rather look elsewhere. I want to know our neighbors, but I don’t want to be a student of our neighbors. It’s already strange enough being my roommate’s student.
***
After three houses, I’m not as excited as I was before.
I’ve gotten some good video of Magnus, and he’s gotten some of me, but I’m losing steam, and neither of us think the houses we’ve seen so far have been right for us.
We aren’t even picky, it’s just that none of them have felt right.
I didn’t even know I’d have to feel it to be able to say, “Yes, let’s make an offer on this one. ”
When we pull up to the fourth house, I almost suggest just going to dinner, but when the front of the house registers, I have to stop and stare.
It’s hideous. Absolutely hideous. It’s painted a fading, peeling rainbow of colors, but the windows.
They’re stained glass. Every window is stained glass, and it’s gorgeous.
I slip out of the car, walking up the empty driveway, studying each window.
They’re not telling stories; they don’t have saints in them.
They’re just abstract stained glass designs.
All the woodwork outside needs a sanding and a stain, but the metalwork is beautiful wrought iron.
“The bones are good. It just needs a little TLC.” The craggy voice draws my attention to an older man in dirt stained overalls sitting in a lawn chair that I didn’t notice because of the house.
“It’s gorgeous,” I agree, turning back to the front of the house. “Are you the homeowner?”
“Sure am. Didn’t think I’d need a Realtor to sell the old girl.
The right person’s gonna see what she is, and the only thing a Realtor’d do is try to sell it to the highest bidder.
Name’s Howard King. This is the house I bought with my man, raised our family in, and the house he died in.
I ain’t selling it because I lost him; I’m selling it because he wanted me to move to where our grandkids are in Colorado, and I’m going to honor him and our love and our life until the day I join him in the afterlife. You wanna come in and see her?”
“Yes, sir, I sure do.” There’s no other answer. This is a house with a legacy, a family home, and I want it. I don’t even know what’s inside, but whatever’s there, I want it.
Magnus slips his hand into mine as we follow Howard in through the gorgeous front door.
The house is smaller than the other houses we’ve seen today.
The front room is crowded with a lifetime of things.
The walls have pictures of Howard’s family from early days with a young Howard and his young husband, to the first days with their first child, and years of birthdays, important events, and family photos.
They raised six children together, and the story of their life exists on the faded wallpaper in picture frames.
Howard sits on one of the recliners; it’s his chair, and the one next to it remains empty with just the impression of the man who lived here with him. There’s a worn in couch with two throws on it, end tables, shelves, and knickknacks.
“Have a look around. I don’t suppose you’ll be interested in stealing from me,” he states, turning on his TV.
Magnus and I walk through this man’s home and his life.
It will need some TLC, but the things that we see are just maintenance issues, like updating the carpet and tearing off the wallpaper.
We could fix it up over the summer. The appliances need to be updated and the Formica countertops could stand to be replaced.
It doesn’t need a remodel, as such, but the selling point for me is so ridiculous I’m afraid to even say it to Magnus.
“You really like this one,” Magnus says as we stand in the master bedroom that’s really not much bigger than our two dorm bedrooms combined. It’s two thirds the size of the last one we were in.
“This house is happy. Their life seeped into the walls, and it’s vibrant with their love. I want it because it’s so fucking happy here.” It’s so stupid, but there it is. “This is a home, and that’s what I want. I want to make a home with you.”
Magnus steps into my space and wraps his arms around my neck.
“It needs new carpet, new paint, new appliances, new flooring, and new countertops. We’ll have to sandblast the outside and repaint, and we’ll need to do something about the porch.
The best thing about the place is the stained glass and the garden, but neither of us has time to garden, so we’ll have to pay someone to maintain it until we get through school.
Do you really want to go through all that work? ”
“I think it’ll be worth it,” is all I can say to defend myself.
Magnus presses his lips to mine. “Alright then. Let’s go talk to Howard.”
I pull him in close and hug him tight. “Thank you,” I mutter into his hair.
Magnus kisses my shoulder. “I knew when I spotted the stained glass this was going to be your top pick, and when Howard introduced himself, it was inevitable. You wanted this place before you even stepped foot in it.”
“You are not psychic,” I remind him, even though sometimes he sounds like it.
He laughs. “No. I just know my Trent.”
He really does know his Trent.