Chapter 24
Chapter twenty-four
Rhys
Hulu and Do You? HBO Max and Climax? Prime and Naughty Time?
It feels good to be with the horses again and I hope Duncan enjoyed himself. Having him in my home, in my space, has been almost too comfortable. He makes everything light and easy.
Will it be like this in D.C.?
I can’t believe I told him I didn’t want to see him everyday. But, that’s too serious. Too involved.
I’m not moving here to become his boyfriend.
I’m doing it as a cook give-back opportunity.
That just happens to be in the city my current crush lives in. And, it’s fine for me to be crushing on him.
A crush is to be expected.
But, a relationship is not.
I’m not sure who needs the reminder more, my head, my heart, or my cock.
I’m on a relationship hiatus. I’m recovering from the damage Mike did. I’m supposed to be processing it and making music about my heartbreak.
But every lyric I’ve jotted down has felt more like Duncan Paisley than Meek Car.
I give Donkey a final pat and head back up to the house. I wonder how many rooms we can christen on his last night here?
Duncan has a country covers playlist on through the house’s speakers and the music accompanies me as I take off my boots on the patio. The door slides open and I grab a glass of water before heading back to my room to shower.
The water is refreshing and I drain the glass as Duncan emerges from the hallway looking completely at home in my space.
His hair is wet from the shower and tousled from towel drying, my sweatpants slung low on his hips.
His delectable chest is on full display.
His wide, veiny bare feet on my hardwood floor entice my gaze.
Hardwood indeed.
"How’d the shower feel?" I ask as I turn to refill my glass. I’m suddenly completely parched.
"Great. You’ve got a killer shower Charming." He says as he limps to the counter and leans his forearms on it.
"You okay?" The grimace on his face telling me he isn’t.
"My ass is on fire."
"Normally I’d say you should get that checked out but it’s from horseback riding isn’t it?"
"Yeah, Tiger was not easy on me."
I laugh and pass the glass of water over to him. I reach into another cabinet and pull out a bottle of ibuprofen.
"You’re a person who keeps pills in the kitchen?" He asks as he taps a dose into his palm.
"It’s where the water is."
"Where do you keep your first aid kit?"
"Kitchen, garage, barn, and bathroom."
He presses his lips together and nods.
"What?" I challenge.
"I like that you have four first aid kits in your house. If my place was bigger I’d have more. And, I guess if I actually cooked I’d have one in the kitchen but for me, the bathroom is enough."
"If you don’t cook for yourself what do you eat?"
"Great question Charming, do you mind if I hobble to your sofa and try to get comfortable before I answer it?"
"Of course, actually, hold that thought. I’m going to shower and then I’ll sit with you."
Each step he takes is stiff and deliberate, like he’s negotiating with each muscle before each move. "Are you going to dump me if we don’t hump tonight?" He grits out.
"No wonder you call me Charming. Hump? Seriously Duncan?"
The corners of his eyes crinkle behind his frames as he rounds the sofa. "My butt hurts too much to think of anything better. Do I get points for rhyming?"
"No. And no, I’m not going to dump you." How could I anyway? We're not dating.
"Okay, you go shower, think of me as you fondle yourself."
"Stop speaking Duncan."
"Got it."
I watch him curl up on the sofa with grunts and groans and once I hear him exhale I turn towards my room.
His scent lingers and the closer I get to the bathroom the more my head clouds. Did he bring his own products? If he used mine there’s no way I’d be able to smell him this strongly would I?
It’s this mouthwatering combination of citrus and vanilla and something smoky. It’s indescribable but it’s all Duncan.
As the water warms I strip down. My cock pulses as muscle memory takes over. Most showers for me lately have involved a hopeful fist around my cock. With Duncan just down the hall, touching myself feels even naughtier.
The spray hits my inked shoulder as I step in and I exhale the tension as I dip my head and face under the spray. A memory of Duncan spraying me with icy hose water surfaces and yes, my arousal increases, but so does this warmth in my chest.
I wash my hair and think of how good it felt to cook dinner for Duncan last night, to dry the dishes he washed, to brush our teeth next to each other. Even if I had to process him taking his front teeth, teef, out.
We fooled around before going to sleep and the moment I woke up with both of us on our stomachs and my arm slung across his ass I knew I had to make the man pancakes.
I just want to take care of him.
The thought thickens my dick and I give into the need to touch myself. Each stroke builds a sensation of simultaneously floating and falling that I can't seem to shake around Duncan.
Ever since fame found me I have been searching for someone in the industry to call mine. Someone who understands the pressures of being in the public eye. The demands of a schedule that isn’t your own. The need for space to allow creativity to flow.
But, my creative output is at an all time high because of the fun-loving hockey player in my living room.
"Fuck." I grit out as my release barrels through me.
Duncan’s teasing smile is the only thing I see before my vision tunnels and I spill onto the shower floor.
I rinse off again and step out reminding myself not to get attached. Not to make this more than it is.
We’re friends who fuck.
That’s it.
After drying off I wrap the towel around my waist and quickly run through my skincare routine. I run a bit of pomade through my hair and finally apply body lotion. With my skin, body, and hair ready I step into my closet and pull a linen blend polo and pair of flat-front shorts out to wear.
I skip the shoes but I know which ones I’ll grab if I need to.
The music is still playing through the speakers as I leave my room. I wonder what Duncan found to watch because it’s weird to also have music on too.
Except when I make it out of the hallway the TV in the living room is black. Nothing playing on the eighty inch screen.
"Duncan?" Maybe he wandered off somewhere.
He doesn’t answer but as I get closer to the sofa I find him curled up and asleep.
His face is soft and the usual smile lines he sports are barely visible. His hair is unkempt and a little frizzy. His glasses are smooshed off center from where his face presses into the pillow.
Gently his chest rises and falls and the urge to curl up with him wins as I slowly make my way around the sofa and lower on to the cushion near his head.
My W-I-L-D fingers caress the hair at his temple, slowly trailing lines between his forehead and his ear.
Duncan hums in his sleep and my hand hovers over him.
When he exhales I wait another beat and continue to touch him. His hair is soft, his body warm, and repeating this path is soothing something inside me.
The afternoon sun travels across the horizon and my mind slows as a gentle melody forms in my head. It sounds like the swish of his track pants back in Marreldir, but slower, like the pace of my fingers across his temple.
My eyes drift closed as a smile brushes my lips and Duncan stirs again.
Brown eyes blink up at me and he smiles. "Hey Charming."
"Hey."
"C’mere." I lean over and press a kiss to his lips.
I pull back and Duncan starts to turn onto his side but he hisses like he’s in an incredible amount of pain.
"Don’t you throw people into the boards for a living?" I tease as he makes it to his side.
His body is propped up on his elbow and he twists to look back at me. "I’m going to get you for that."
"Not right now you’re not." I pat my thigh and he scoots up a bit to rest his head there.
"I can hold a grudge." He grumbles as he leans against me.
"I doubt that." He’s far too kind.
"Oh so you know me so well do you?"
Instead of caving I challenge him. "If you’re such a grump, tell me about a grudge you’re holding."
"No." He pouts.
I reach down and pinch his side. He squeals and tries to tuck his legs in to protect himself but he’s so stiff he doesn’t get far. "Not fair, Charming. Stop!"
"You can’t tell me a grudge you have because you don’t have any."
"I might not have any personal ones but I hold them for others."
"Explain." My hand comes to rest on his ribs and I gently soothe where I had tickled moments before.
"Well, my best buddy, Crosby, his dad is a total dick. Ever since college I’ve hated the guy. When he gets up in Crosby’s business I’m on alert and I’m always there to make sure Crosby moves on and doesn’t dwell on it. Well, I was that guy I guess."
"What do you mean, ‘was’?"
Duncan sighs and his finger starts to trace circles on my knee. It tickles but I would never tell him to stop. "He’s got a girl now."
"Is he the one who was girl-crazy at the Fourth of July party?" I ask.
"You remember me saying that."
"I remember everything." I say quietly, admitting more than I’m supposed to.
A beat passes between us and I hate myself for being so honest and so open. Maybe there’s some value in playing relationship games and keeping things closer to the metaphorical suede fringed vest.
Duncan blinks. "Yeah, he’s the one. He and Laila got pregnant and he’s in love with her.
I’m just not sure that she’s ready to handle the brunt of his dad so I still need to be there for him.
But, if he’s got a girlfriend or, fuck, a kid, how can I be over at his place all the time, or have him come to mine to hang out?
He’s going to have better things to do. More important things to do. I’m needy but not a baby ya know?"
"I know." I answer him, even though I would give anything to have a friend like Duncan in my life. Someone to help me fight my battles. Someone to help me move through them.