Chapter 1
Chapter One
Robbie
The end of college is like an exclamation mark. A sudden loud halt to what was the first amazing chapter of my life. It leaves a vague ringing behind as I pack up my shit … and leave.
Brando and I move from the frat house into a shitty little one bedroom, and we scrape our way through internships into positions that are nothing fancy but help us keep getting by.
I’m enjoying learning everything that goes into being a political advisor, and even though I’m a bottom-rung shit kicker, it’s exciting work. There’s something about knowing I’m helping to potentially shape a better future that has me excited to go to work in the mornings.
“You awake?” Brandon croaks as he lifts his head off my chest.
One of the benefits of being poor as fuck, is that we could only afford a teeny bed, which means he can’t escape me when we’re sleeping. I know some people hate touching when they sleep, but having his body pressed against mine is calming, and I’ve never slept better in my life.
“Dream about me?” I ask.
“You wish.”
“Damn right I do.”
Brandon’s eyes shine, and he props himself up and looks down at me. “Did you dream about me?”
“Sure did. You dream cheated on me. I’m very offended. Super sad. You need to immediately make it up to me.”
He laughs because after the one time I did actually dream that, he offered to make it up to me, and the resulting blow job went a long way toward mending my tender feelings. So now, whenever I want some morning head, that’s my go-to. He did a bad thing, and now he needs to make it all better.
“That was very mean of me,” he says, voice dropping a notch. “I can’t let you go off to work all upset now, can I?”
“My soul is sobbing, babe. Help me.”
He grins evilly and slides down my body, where he makes my soul sob for an entirely different reason.
Fuck, I’m a lucky dude to have the only cock he’s ever used that mouth on.
He knows me way too well already, so it doesn’t take long for me to spill into his mouth, and then I flip us until he empties into mine.
Having a boyfriend is the best fucking decision I ever made, and if our lives stay like this forever—poor, happy, bellies full of cum—I’ll die the most satisfied man in existence.
Brandon runs his hand over my short hair. “What time are you going in today?”
“Seven. There’s a proposal I want to take a closer look at. No one will listen to anything I have to say right now, but I’m interested to know what changes they make to it down the line and if those are things I would have done too.”
“I love how excited you are by it all.”
“Hey, I’ve always been passionate and excited about things.”
He laughs. “You don’t need to tell me that. I’ve lived with you for years, man. This is probably the first time you’ve been so focused on something that won’t lead to immediate fun and shenanigans.”
“I do love the shenanigans.”
“I know that too.”
We drift into a comfortable silence because he’s right.
Even in classes, I didn’t take my work seriously, and I wondered for a while there whether I was going to flunk out.
This job is different, though. I can feel the opportunity I have to make positive changes.
To make people’s lives better. It won’t be tomorrow, or this year, or fuck, maybe even not five years from now.
But I have a lot of ideas, and the promise of being able to brainstorm events and outreach keeps me motivated.
“I’m proud of you too, you know,” I feel compelled to remind him. “You’ve gone straight into the job you’ve always said you would, and you’re already raking in the clients. Your design work is incredible.”
His smile is sheepish. “Thanks. Being a Sigma boy has helped keep my mind fresh for ideas.”
I’m not surprised, but honestly, the shit Brando comes up with?
I have no idea how he does it. I might know how to pull a good prank on someone or throw a good party, but he’s actually creative.
Every spongy surface of his brain is pulling amazing designs out of nowhere, and each time he shows me a new project he’s working on, I’m left in awe of his talent.
My boyfriend is a clever son of a bitch, that’s for sure.
He leaves after me, so I peck him goodbye while he showers and head out.
The whole suit thing is something I’m still getting used to.
Sure, we wore them after a game in college, but barely an hour later, I’d be stripping out of it again.
Brando says I look like a snack in it, which is great and all, but I’m constantly suffocating from the tie, my shoulders always ache from how restrictive it is, and if I want to lift my arms beyond shoulder height, I better be prepared to hulk out of the bad boy.
Mom and Dad even took me to a proper tailor when they visited last and treated me to a good one, but it’s still too stifling and restrictive.
Suits in the office is so not frat.
I sigh, reminding myself that it’s not supposed to be. This isn’t a frat house; it’s a worksite. A place for professionals. I’m still waiting for my professional side to show up. Especially when Brando goes and says stuff about being proud of me.
I want this to work. For him. For him to have more reasons to be proud of being with me.
It’s hard to stay focused sometimes. To not worry that I’m not giving him enough or he doesn’t deserve better, but I won’t fall into that trap. Chad’s going down that path enough for the pair of us, and if I’m going to tell him that money isn’t everything, I need to follow my own advice.
Brandon picked me. I picked him. That’s all I need to remember when the doubts start yapping at me.
The whole bus ride to work, my mind slips back to that first time I went home with him to Kilborough. To our conversation about a little house, a quiet life, lots of land. Maybe I’m in la-la land, but every day, that vision keeps on getting stronger.
Brando said he’s prepared to stay in the city for as long as my career needs it, but with how his designs are already taking off, I think he could be opening his own place in the next few years.
He’s not going to be able to do that in our current place, but we’ll take it as it comes.
I’m going to stay focused on my work, and who knows? Maybe I’ll get to the point where working from home is possible too. Or maybe there’ll be something in Hartford, which is a hell of a lot closer to the town Brandon grew up in than West Haven is.
All I know is that at some point, we’re making our dream come true. It might not be anytime soon because we’re both heads down and bums up in our careers, but it will. I refuse to be one of those people so focused on their jobs that I forget how to live.
College might not have prepared me for much, but I have that at least.