Diego #2
This wasn’t the time for a serious conversation, and they didn’t want to still be here when Brian returned, so Diego put his head down and got to work.
Almost two hours later, they had cleared out all signs of Hannah and Kayla from the home, everything neatly packed and labeled in the back of Wylie’s borrowed pick-up truck.
Wylie left Hannah’s key on the counter and locked the door behind him with finality.
He’d shown restraint the whole morning but as they left, he muttered, “Good fucking riddance,” then spat on the concrete stoop with hardly a backward glance.
“How’s she doing?” Diego asked once they were back in the cab of the truck and on their way to the Village.
“She’s sad. Blaming herself. Crying a lot. Probably depressed. When I left them, they were watching cartoons on the couch, which is good. She needs some time to heal.”
“She’s lucky to have you,” Diego said.
“Yeah, wish she’d listened to me sooner, but it seems people don’t like to take me seriously. No idea why.”
Clearly, that was in reference to the other morning.
Diego wanted to explain himself, or try to, but they were already pulling into the trailer park where there was a crew waiting to help them unload.
They stacked the boxes inside Wylie’s cramped living room then had a quick lunch that Nancy and Hannah had prepared.
Then Wylie set to packing up all of his clothes, books, and toiletries into plastic storage bins to make room for Hannah’s things.
“Where are you going to fit all this?” Diego asked as the bins began to pile up.
“So, that’s the something I wanted to tell you.
” Wylie paused there, amid the commotion of packing and people passing back and forth.
“Let’s go outside for a minute.” He grabbed a couple drinks from the fridge and dragged Diego to the side of the trailer where there was a spot in the shade.
He took out his vape and had a few puffs, his general warm-up to a serious conversation.
“Hit me with it,” Diego said, because the suspense was starting to get to him, and if Wylie was going to end it with him, he wanted it to be as quick and painless as possible.
“Okay, so, I found out yesterday that I got into UF,” Wylie said, staring at him somberly as if he were sharing the worst news ever.
The initial relief at not being dumped was palpable, followed by what felt like a punch to the gut, though it shouldn’t.
Diego knew this would happen–it had been one of his reasons for not wanting to get serious with Wylie in the first place.
Even still, it took him a moment to compose himself and put on a happy face. “That’s great, Wy. When do you start?”
“Two weeks, so I guess you were right.”
“Right about what?” Diego asked, suspicious of the man’s tone of voice.
“About it never working out between us,” Wylie said, then stared back as if to challenge him.
Diego was learning that this was a strategy of Wylie’s, to say something so outrageous that Diego might be forced to defend himself or argue with him about it.
Was this a lawyerly tactic or simply Wylie’s attempt to get at the truth?
Diego huffed out an irritated sigh and shook his head. “That’s not what I said.”
“Wasn’t it?” Wylie’s expression reflected the same pain as the other morning, a mixture of rejection and longing, but before Diego could answer, he continued, “Listen, I’m sorry if I’m being an asshole.
I don’t want to fight. I’m just stressed and a little bit mad at you, if I’m being honest. But I appreciate you helping me today. ”
This warranted a longer conversation, one that Diego didn’t want to have with the neighbors milling about and Hannah waiting on Wylie to finish packing his stuff so she could unpack her own.
“How about you come over to my place tonight and we can talk about it more?” Diego said.
He didn’t want there to be bad feelings between them, and he owed Wylie an explanation.
“You want to talk about…feelings? With me?” Wylie asked, looking somewhat incredulous.
Diego couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yes.”
“You’ve never invited me over to your place before,” Wylie said as if it had been an intentional slight against him.
“That’s because it’s a shit hole.”
Wylie took his sweet time sucking on the end of his vape while he considered it. Diego had a flashback to that mouth giving the same attention to his dick, and wondered if Wylie was drawing it out on purpose. Probably.
“I want to stay the night too,” Wylie said at last, always the negotiator. He glanced behind him at the train station that was currently his trailer. “That couch hurts my back. And besides, you owe me breakfast.”
Diego knew it was probably a bad idea, but he was too far gone for the man already, so he readily agreed. “Okay.”
“And, is there the possibility of sex? I just wanna be prepared. Might need to stretch first,” Wylie said while rolling his shoulders.
Diego grinned because the one thing he could count on was the fact that Wylie had a one-track mind when it came to satisfying his dick. “There is a strong possibility,” Diego conceded while trying not to blush.
“Then, yes, we can talk about our feelings. As long as it’s an actual conversation, and you don’t pull that condescending because-I-said-so bullshit like you’re my parent,” Wylie snapped.
Diego winced. He supposed he deserved that. “Fine, I won’t.”
Wylie stuck out his hand and Diego grabbed hold of it. Wylie’s grip was solid and strong, the handshake of a future lawyer. “Deal,” he said.
“Deal,” Diego agreed.
Soon, Wylie would be heading off to law school to pursue his bright and shining future, and Diego would become a distant memory, that one summer before his real life began when Wylie had nothing better to do than pursue the grouchy new guy working behind the counter.
But they had two more weeks together before that happened. Fourteen borrowed days of sunrises and sunsets and the opportunity to make the most of every shared moment between them.
Diego wasn’t going to waste a second.
“So, this is your place.”
Wylie stood in the middle of Diego’s small living room and surveyed their surroundings, his clever eyes darting here and there to inspect every nook and cranny.
Diego felt slightly exposed, knowing how cold and sterile it appeared.
He’d turned the main living area into his home gym with equipment he’d bought second-hand, mostly from Facebook Marketplace and Goodwill.
There was not much furniture, no artwork or photographs, no personal effects at all.
Nothing more than a place to eat, sleep, and work out. Kind of like prison.
“This is it,” Diego confirmed.
“It’s definitely giving off serial killer vibes,” Wylie said and Diego couldn’t really argue with that.
It was a mental game he played with himself.
He didn’t want to get too comfortable here, so he hadn’t invested in any furnishings or done much to make the place feel like home.
Maybe he really was just as cold and detached as his surroundings.
“I hope to not be here much longer,” Diego said. He didn’t want to continue to rely on his uncle for the discounted rent. As soon as he’d saved up enough money, he’d find a place of his own. Maybe then he’d hang a picture or two on the walls and find some second-hand furniture.
“And this is where the magic happens,” Wylie said, nodding to his bench and set of weights.
“Yeah, if you want to call it that.”
“Well, it’s clean,” Wylie reasoned.
No filter, that was Wylie. Diego always knew exactly where he stood, for better or worse.
“And there’s a shower big enough for me to reach my own ass to clean it,” Diego added, which was a dig on Wylie’s place, but the man only smiled back.
If they were teasing each other again, then it must be a good sign.
Wylie walked over to said bathroom and popped his head inside. “We could both fit in here. Want to test it out?”
Diego gave him a skeptical look. “I thought you were mad at me.”
“Yeah, but I’m also incredibly attracted to you, and I’ve been fantasizing about soaping you up in the shower and possibly sucking your dick while I’m at it.”
Diego was stubborn but he wasn’t a fool, so he reached back and yanked off his t-shirt with one tug, then unbuckled his pants and let them drop around his ankles before remembering he might need to take off his boots first. Wylie was similarly swift in removing his clothing and soon, they were both naked and crowded into the bathroom while waiting for the water to get hot.
“This must have been the selling point,” Wylie said of the somewhat spacious walk-in shower.
“The selling point was cheap rent. Now, let me kiss you.” Diego wrapped his arms around the other man and attacked his mouth. When words failed, Diego could rely on his body to express himself. He was hungry for Wylie, desperate even, especially knowing that their time together was limited.
Diego may have initiated the kiss, but Wylie took hold of his arms and backed him up slowly into the shower, pulling the glass door shut behind him.
Steam rose up all around as the water pelted against Diego’s back.
Their mouths were wet as their tongues tangled together, battling for dominance until Diego relented and let his mouth be plundered. He couldn’t get enough of this man.
“Soap,” Wylie demanded, presenting one hand.
Diego slapped the bar against his palm, then reached around to squeeze his ass for good measure.
Wylie’s dick was hard and knocked against his own as Wylie slid his soapy hands along Diego’s back, from the breadth of his shoulders and down his spine to the narrow V of its base.
“Have you been thinking about when I fucked you?” Wylie asked as his soapy fingers slid along his crack, pausing at his entrance to slowly circle there with his fingertip. Diego couldn’t help the way his hips shifted, angling his ass for easier access.
“Once or twice,” Diego admitted, a vast understatement.