Diego #4
“How do you think this could possibly work long term?” Diego asked, sitting up in bed to mirror the man’s posture. He’d always known Wylie was more courageous than him and confident to the point of recklessness.
“I don’t know all the details, but I’d like to give it a try. The first step is admitting that you even want it.”
Diego did want it, all of it—that was the hardest thing—but he was scared.
Scared of screwing up, of getting his heart broken, of ruining Wylie's life. And what happened if it didn’t work out?
Diego didn’t want his own heart shattered, didn’t trust himself to be able to pick himself up off the floor without turning to drugs again for relief, however temporary it may be.
“I’ve only ever ruined things,” Diego said quietly, revealing a side of himself that he’d rather keep hidden–the part of him that was so afraid of fucking up that he didn’t want to take any risks at all.
Wylie stilled and his expression softened as he laid a compassionate hand on his shoulder. “But that’s not who you are anymore.”
Wasn’t he? He was still the same person.
He had a little more wisdom and maturity under his belt, but at his core, Diego would always be an addict.
“Being an addict, it’s like having a shadow side that you’re always trying to keep at bay.
But there’s a part of you that worries you’ll go back to it, if things get too hard or if given the opportunity.
If circumstances are just bad enough. I think I’m stronger now, but everything’s good right now.
Level. And the last thing I want is to drag you down with me.
It’s…” He paused, remembering some of the fights he’d had with his mom and uncle.
That ugly, disrespectful asshole he’d become.
It shamed him every time he thought about how terrible he’d been to his family. “It’s hell.”
Wylie took a deep breath and let it out slowly, cataloging him the whole time. “Do you think if something goes wrong between us, you might go back to using?”
Diego lifted his head to meet the man’s searching gaze.
“I might. I don’t want to become too dependent on you, or on anyone else for that matter, because if that gets taken away from me…
” There was a hole inside of him that drugs had filled.
Diego needed to fill that hole himself, not with another person or another addiction, but with healthy habits and predictable routines.
“We all need to rely on somebody,” Wylie said. “Look at me. Look at Hannah. No man is an island. And I’m not going to abandon you.”
“Not on purpose,” Diego said.
Wylie studied him closely, trying to read between the lines. “You don’t trust me?”
“I want to but, Wy, you’re about to start this new phase of your life.
Maybe there’ll be a place for me there, maybe not.
You’re twenty-two years old with your whole future ahead of you.
I don’t think either of us is ready for any sort of commitment beyond friendship. I’m not ready,” Diego said staunchly.
That was the truth. Diego simply wasn’t ready to be in a committed relationship because he wasn’t strong enough on his own, not yet. Wylie sighed like the world was ending, then said with a mixture of sadness and regret, “Will you still be my friend?”
Diego nodded resolutely. “One hundred percent.”
“Like the kind of friend who calls and visits and we sometimes fuck?” Wylie asked with a grin that didn’t quite reach his sad eyes.
Diego felt Wylie’s disappointment like a lead weight in his gut.
Wylie was a natural-born negotiator, but Diego didn’t want to make any promises that he couldn’t honor.
“A friend who checks in to see how you’re doing.
” He wanted more than that, of course he did, and the idea of Wylie finding someone else was devastating, but maybe that would be better for them both.
“I’m sorry I can’t give you the answer you want. ”
Wylie laid a hand on his thigh and squeezed. “I can be your friend, and I can show you that I’m serious about you and about us. But that faith in yourself, that’s something you should probably work on. You deserve good things, Diego. And I’m a good thing, I hope.”
“I know you are.” Too good, Diego thought and reached over to squeeze his hand for emphasis.
“I’ve always had a difficult time with faith.
I think I’m pretty pessimistic by nature.
” He was always waiting for the bottom to drop out.
And just because things were good now, didn’t mean there wasn’t some catastrophe lurking just ahead.
“Part of your charm,” Wylie said and smiled at him with such fondness that it made his heart hurt.
“I should probably see a therapist,” Diego admitted.
“I know a guy. He’ll barter for lawn services.”
Diego nodded. “I want to do the work to be a better person and a better partner.”
Wylie smiled, a little sadly. “Thanks for being honest with me. Sorry if I’m being too pushy, again.”
“I like being pushed,” Diego admitted. It kept him from stagnating in his own insecurities and indecision. Wylie was a natural-born leader and Diego admired him for it.
“Do you like it?” Wylie asked with a playful smirk.
The flip had switched, and Diego knew from Wylie’s heated gaze that he’d gone from thinking with his head to thinking with his dick in two seconds flat.
Wylie crawled over and pushed him backward until Diego was lying flat against the mattress with the other man’s weight resting fully on top of him.
“You know I do,” Diego said while trying not to grind against him.
“Well, there is one thing you can do to make me feel better.” Wylie’s hand reached down to where Diego’s dick was still painfully, insistently hard.
He placed all five fingers around his shaft and squeezed just to the edge of pain.
Diego arched upward, feeling Wylie’s own hard length press against his hip.
Arguing with the man hadn’t dampened his arousal one bit. If anything, it had amped him up.
“What’s that?” Diego asked thickly. He felt drunk, warmth spreading low in his belly as the anticipation built in his gut.
“I want to be buried so deep inside you that your mind can’t imagine any more worst-case scenarios. And the only thing I want to hear from your lips is, yes. Yes, Wylie. More, Wylie. Fuck me deeper, Wylie–”
“Enough,” Diego said, cutting him off. The breathy, pornstar voice was completely uncalled for. “I don’t even sound like that.”
“Yes, you do. I can prove it.”
Diego licked his lips, wanting that big dick inside him more than he wanted his next breath. Was this a bad idea? Probably. But they had two weeks, and he wasn’t going to waste another minute with the man he maybe, quite possibly, more probably, loved.
How in the hell had he let this happen?